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#thanks to anyone who's new or even stuck around for long!
What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)
Epilogue
As summer fades, the ghouls settle in further. New friends and relationships blossom, and a new band performs their first ritual in the local village.
Rating: M Content: possessive behavior Words: 4812
Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3
Not bad for a fic that was meant to be 5 chapters and about 15k words… this was supposed to be a quick little fic that I wrote before moving on to write the longer soulmates AU I’ve been planning since around March! 
As I think I've mentioned, this isn't the end! This was always supposed to be a Raindrop fic, and so Swissalps's story will be continued in a sequel. I'll be dropping the first chapter shortly, and I have a special invitation for it if anyone wants that in their ask box! message me or reply if you'd be interested?
I can't let myself get too sappy here or it'll end up longer than the chapter itself. But thank you to everyone who's been so lovely about this fic in replies or reblogs (especially looking at @everybodyshusband @cosmicseafoam @jazz-bazz @0-miles-away @papaslittlesunshine @ligovskaya @midnight-moth @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan and anyone who's AO3 username I haven't correlated to a tumblr blog yet!), I wouldn't have stuck with this so long without you guys 🖤🖤
Read below, or on AO3!
The weeks passed, the summer fading further every day. With the final harvests nearly all brought in and the trees painting themselves in a hundred shades of amber and gold, autumn was finally upon the Abbey. No amount of dulling of the colours of nature could dull the passion of Rain and Dew’s relationship however, even as they found themselves slipping into a routine. For the Abbey’s fire ghouls, it was all hands on deck to help keep the grain dry, yet amidst his busy schedule Dew still found ample time to luxuriate in him and his pack’s safe and comfortable new home. Most importantly though, he thought, he had time to spend with his m– Rain.  
Dew had to stop himself for the thousandth time from thinking of Rain as his mate. To him, the rituals were practically complete. Having passed on his amulet, he had opened his heart and shared his soul. For Rain though, he knew they were only at the end of the first step of the many that comprised a water ghoul's courting ritual. They had many months left before Rain would have completed his side of the tradition; the next step being gifts that were less about being pretty, and more practical gifts for their future together. Dew had no way of knowing that Rain was already hard at work on that front; taking advice from his new pod of water ghouls on the best kinds of kelp to harvest from the lake here, and the weaving patterns that would create the softest possible blankets from it. Dew was happy to wait for Rain however; even if it took millennia, he would wait for him. 
As the weeks passed for Dew and Rain and their relationship grew both deeper and stronger, Swiss and Mountain continued to dance around each other, both backing out of making the final move at the last second. Their friendship had never been stronger, and with that came the higher pressure of what was a stake if their feelings were not reciprocated. 
Aether could see straight through their – at times – comedically oblivious behaviour. He had known Mountain for so many years now, and Swiss a great number too, that he could decipher the thoughts running through their heads just like reading a book. Seeing his pack couple off like they were doing could have made him feel lonely and jealous, he supposed. Considering his thoughts however, he couldn't find a scrap of negativity towards any of them. Really, he was just happy to see his pack happy.  
He had a fulfilling life; a pack, new friends around the Abbey. Aether had always said that he was happy alone, with no desire to settle with a mate. Admittedly, Mountain had said something similar when they first met, but Swiss seemed to have been an exception there. Over the recent weeks since Cumulus had properly introduced them, Aether had especially been enjoying getting to know Cowbell. The quiet ghoul's steady, timeless attitude felt grounding amongst the recent chaos of his life, and Aether could tell they seemed as delighted to have made a new friend as he was. 
Aether’s role in the infirmary was also going better than he could have expected. Astra had quickly seen how unnecessary any training she could offer him would be, and had set him up mentoring some of the younger quintessence ghouls. To his mild amusement, he had gained a small gaggle of quintessence ghouls who followed him around the infirmary like little ducklings, hanging on his every word and keen to lap up every scrap of knowledge he imparted. Aether found he enjoyed that side of his new role more than he had expected, and looked forward to teaching the younger ghouls each shift. 
With the Harvest Festival quickly approaching, one of the main tasks of the infirmary ghouls had been to prepare a supply of tinctures and remedies for the ghouls and siblings alike who would inevitably indulge a little too heavily in the Abbey’s famous blackberry wine. Due to his extensive knowledge of medicinal plants and herbs, Astra had delegated the task of organising this to Aether, who had grasped the extra responsibilities firmly. 
Before the festival however, came the one thing that was more exciting to the pack; Swiss, and Copia’s first musical engagement in the local tavern. Sunshine and Mountain were also heavily occupied now in rehearsals for it, the three ghouls – and one human – doing an excellent job of hiding their nerves from the rest of the pack. 
The pack was something else that had grown stronger at the Abbey, thought Aether. It hadn’t taken long for the five ghouls to begin to see the ghoulettes they lived their lives in such proximity to as more than just casual friends. Dew had clearly seen them as family long before the others had, but within the span of time they had been here the other ghouls also came to see them as an interwoven part of their lives. 
The ghoulettes, Cirrus and Cumulus in particular, had been referring to the new ghouls as pack, long before they were aware of it. The Den had become so much more crowded and noisier since they arrived, but none of the ghoulettes would change it for the world. The Abbey could feel large and lonely at times, and the constant presence of at least one member of the newly extended pack made everything feel cosier.  
Indeed, the concert – Aether still found calling it a “Ritual” to be laughable, although he would be happy to be proved wrong – was to be their first true pack adventure. The nine ghouls, plus Cowbell, Copia and several Siblings of Sin, were all planning to make the journey down the hill to support their leader’s latest passion project. Cowbell had offered to drive them in the large horse and cart usually used for their monthly grocery runs to the village, and as such the event was developing quite a party-like atmosphere. 
Even amongst the ghouls not attending, most either too busy or incapable of holding an adequate glamour, the day held excitement and novelty. There was a general buzz in the air throughout the Abbey, and it was riding this high that inspired most of the ghouls to finalise their remaining chores before the harvest festival the following day. 
One ghoul in particular who seemed to be buoyed along by the jubilant environment was a young, dark-haired fire ghoul. He was comparatively new to the Abbey, arriving some years after Dew left. Swiss was hurrying back to the Den, bringing armfuls of freshly-washed clothes from the laundry when the fire ghoul strode up to him with a self-assured, almost cocky, grin. 
“Good luck for tonight,” he purred in a low voice like treacle, reaching out a muscular arm to lay a hand on Swiss’ own bicep, “I’ll be at the festival tomorrow, if you want to get a celebratory drink together?” 
Swiss stood confused: he couldn’t remember ever speaking to this ghoul before, and certainly not in a way that would cause him to be so familiar with him. He hoisted the pile of clothes further into his arms, trying to think of a polite was to ask who he was exactly. 
“I, um…” Swiss trailed off, distracted by a low noise ringing in his ears. He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge it but to no avail: if anything, it seemed to be getting louder. A dark and earthy scent suddenly assaulted his senses, and he wondered if he was falling ill, or if he had been cursed or something. It seemed the fire ghoul could feel it too though, as Swiss saw the colour drain from his face, rendering his tanned, olive skin an ashy grey. His terrified eyes were fixed on a point above and behind Swiss, and he stood frozen like a deer caught in a ranger's torchlight. Swiss cautiously turned around, half expecting to see some kind of nether-worldly monster oozing out of the wall. 
All he saw was Mountain however, stood tall and stony-faced with a dark aura emanating from him. The added height of his antler-like horns meant he cut an imposing figure. His lip curled into a snarl as he growled again, and a new wave of that woodsy, almost possessive scent washed over Swiss. As much as it seemed to be scaring the fire ghoul, Swiss thought it smelled divine. He smiled at Mountain with a questioning head-tilt, wondering where this strange behaviour was coming from so suddenly. The Earth ghoul’s eyes were fixed on the fire ghoul however, who managed to unfreeze for long enough to stutter out a disjointed sentence. 
“I’m sorry!” He looked like he was staring straight into the face of death himself. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry!” 
With a jerk of his head, Mountain dismissed him, sending the terrified fire ghoul scuttling down the hallway as fast as he could run, his tail between his legs. Once he was out of sight, Mountain seemed to calm down. His expression softened, and the air around him seemed lighter again.  
“What was all that about?” Swiss asked, confused by the earth ghoul’s sudden black mood, and the even more sudden departure of the unknown fire ghoul.  
Mountain muttered something Swiss didn’t catch and started relieving him of the large bundle of black clothes in his arms. Swiss trailed back to the Den beside him, still utterly confused by the interaction that had just taken place. 
“Was I meant to know who that was?” He mused aloud. “He acted so familiar, yet I can’t remember him from anywhere!” 
Mountain almost dropped the clothes, as he doubled over and snorted with laughter, previous aggressive attitude long behind him now that he had the multi ghoul to himself again. Was Swiss seriously that clueless about the fire ghoul’s unsubtle actions? Ever since he’d known him, Swiss had been taking advantage of the humans’ proclivity for flirting with him, often reciprocating if he thought it would secure him more work, or tips and favours. He couldn’t think what would have changed now to make him so oblivious, unless it was simply that it was another ghoul, rather than a human? 
“He was clearly flirting with you, Snapdragon!” Mountain guffawed in disbelief. “Could you really not tell?” 
Swiss’s quizzical expression suggested that no, he had not been aware of that. Adding to his confusion was Mountain’s reaction: he seemed to be finding the fire ghoul’s actions funny now, but what had the growling and – he realised what it was now – scenting been about? The bounce in the taller ghoul’s gait could only be described as victorious, and he chose to file all the hope about why that could be away until after their performance tonight. That wasn’t a distraction he would allow himself today, not when Copia was relying on him. 
Swiss had a suspicion however – one he kept to himself – about why he hadn’t grasped what the fire ghoul was really suggesting, and it had everything to do with the earth ghoul trotting slightly ahead of him. He was self-aware enough to know his feelings for Mountain bordered on infatuation, and he figured that now he had become used to the intensity of those feelings that he had forgotten what anything smaller felt like. The thrill of attraction, or of a newly developing crush felt so insignificant now that they were dwarfed by the magnitude of his feelings for the earth ghoul. He only had eyes for Mountain, and the thought of anyone else thinking they stood a chance in the battle for his heart was laughable to him. Hastening his steps to catch up with Mountain, Swiss fell into step with him to revel in being by his side once again. 
Reaching the Den just before they did was an excitable Dewdrop. He burst through the main door, and then into the room he shared with Rain, brandishing a dull metal object. 
“Look!” He exclaimed to a slightly startled Rain lounging in their nest. “A horseshoe!”  
Rain could see that, although what he couldn’t see was why Dew was quite so excited about such a mundane object. He smiled at him with a questioning tilt of his head and waited for Dew to elaborate. 
“The humans do something with them at weddings,” Dew explained as he joined Rain on the bed, still clutching the curved iron shape, “something about them catching luck? I thought we could hang it on our door!” 
He held it out for Rain to examine, demonstrating how it could look like a vessel for capturing luck when held in a U-shape. Rain took it from him, and it really was just a regular horseshoe: slightly rusted and worn down from use. More interesting than the horseshoe though, Rain realised that this was the first time Dew had ever brought back something to keep for himself. He let Dew chatter on about needing to find a hammer and some nails, if they should think about painting their door before or after mounting the horseshoe, and what colour Rain would like if so, would he like teal? Rain nodded along, only half his mind on the conversation. The other half was preoccupied celebrating this relatively large step for Dewdrop; this was yet more proof that he was finally starting to settle properly and relax, putting down roots for himself and Rain, finally feeling a sense of permanence. 
“I got it when I went to see Cowbell just now,” Dew elaborated, “to check if they’re all ready to drive the cart down to the village tonight. They were just reshoeing the mare we brought with us from the village, so that means this shoe played a part in getting us out of there! It really is lucky!” 
Rain melted further. It was becoming increasingly apparent that deep down Dew had the potential to be an incredibly sentimental ghoul, and he couldn't wait to see how that continued. 
“It seems to be working so far then,” Rain murmured, holding it up, “I've had nothing but luck since you came back for me.” 
With that, he leaned in to steal a kiss; both the horseshoe and all talk of home décor soon being forgotten. 
The day seemed both to drag and pass all too quickly at the same time. Before they knew it, Swiss, Mountain and Sunshine were all dressed, and carefully buffing the metal masks that were a part of their outfits one final time. Copia had decided they added a nice touch to their costumes; the shining horns hinting at their ghoulish nature without actually revealing it. The whole Den was alive with excitement and nerves, the fervour growing as the light outside began to fade. 
Walking out to the front courtyard to meet Cowbell with the cart, Swiss proudly led the way with his guitar strapped to his back. This felt familiar, and more importantly it felt right; doubly so with Mountain by his side. Cowbell was leaned against the wooden trailer, as human-looking as anyone could remember ever seeing them before. They were smiling softly, although slightly apprehensively, as the pack approached. Behind the pack followed the Siblings of Sin, who had initially been keen for an evening out but now seemed to be regretting their decision. Swiss could smell the waves of alarm pouring off them as they got closer, none of them used to interacting with the ancient ghoul who lived in the stables. 
“Good evening, dear ghoul!”  
Copia greeted Cowbell as he bustled forward and hoisted himself up next to them at the front of the cart. The rest of them would be travelling in the back, even though none of them were particularly keen to be sharing the space. They had no choice however, and the Siblings dutifully lined up behind the crush of ghouls that were piling in and jostling for space on the narrow wooden benches. Rain and Dew happily squeezed themselves into a corner, and Swiss settled himself into another; Mountain willingly joining him and shuffling closer until their thighs were pressed tight against each other. There was eventually space made for everyone and with a jolt, the cart set off. The sudden motion and continued bumping along the cobbles of the courtyard threw Mountain even closer into Swiss. Even once they were onto the smoother path into the village, he remained plastered along Swiss’ side as the countryside flew by.  
It really was a beautiful evening, Swiss though as he glanced out at the trees and fields around them. The orange sunset cast its glow over everything, making the whole world look like it was on fire. Most vibrant of all however was Mountain; his auburn hair glowing in the light like it was itself aflame. With his large horns glamoured away, the russet glow was all that served to make him appear as otherworldly as he did. Swiss thought that the whole world around them could truly be on fire, and he would be happy to sit and burn if only to stare at Mountain for a second longer.  
They continued rattling down the hill towards the village, and Swiss felt a pang of longing when he spotted Dew with his head leaning on Rain’s chest; held against his front by the water ghoul's long arms. He wished he could be so casually affectionate with mountain, but he dared not. He wouldn’t allow himself to dream that until he had first concluded the hard part – making sure they really were both on the same page. He didn’t deserve such a reward without the prior work, he thought.  
All too soon they were slowing to a stop outside a wide stone building that was emitting a narrow stream of smoke from its chimney: the village tavern. The Siblings practically fell out of the cart, their instincts screaming at them to put some distance between themselves and the ghouls. 
“Go, my Children, enjoy yourselves!” Copia laughed as they threw themselves towards the tavern door. 
The ghouls were only slightly more restrained as they clambered down and spilled into the building. Cowbell made no move to follow the others inside, instead staying next to the pair of horses, stroking one's nose. Aether paused, looking back at them. 
“You aren't coming in?” he asked, worried that the ghoul didn’t realise that they were welcome in too. Cowbell shook their head. They didn’t like crowds, especially human ones, as the noise and bustle were too much for their deeply ancient mind to handle. Despite that, the biggest thing stopping them now however was their appearance: Cowbell gestured to their feet, where Aether saw that their hooves were very much still visible. 
“My glamour’s incomplete,” they shrugged, “’m out of practice. It’s been centuries since I last used it.” 
One day, Aether thought, he would ask Cowbell just how old they really were. He suspected it was millennia. 
“Go inside with the others,” Cowbell smiled a wonky smile, “I’ll be happier listening out here anyway. Besides, I have company.” They stroked the second horse. Reluctantly, Aether followed after the rest of the rabble he called pack, throwing a final look back at Cowbell. They were muttering something in the horse’s ear while continuing to pet them. It sounded to Aether like they were speaking Infernal, a language only spoken in the pit, or so he thought. The horse didn’t seem perturbed though, and she whinnied happily at the attention. 
Inside the tavern, the atmosphere was jovial already. The large room was dimly lit, wood-panelled walls and supporting columns all stained dark with years of fire and tobacco smoke. Scattered across the panelling were a patchwork of lighter sections from recent and less-recent repairs. The only lighting came from lanterns that lined the walls and hung directly from the vaulted ceiling, as well as a small number of candles dotted on tables that lent a cosy and friendly air to the place.  
Better lit however, was the makeshift stage against the wall. It was slightly raised, simply built from a few wooden planks resting on crates, but it did the job. On the other side was the bar, its countertop polished as smooth as glass from generations of patrons leaning on it. Along its length were a line of stools with faded fabric covers, and the remaining floor space was filled with a hodgepodge of tables and chairs, scattering in increasingly private settings ranging from the centre of the room to corners almost entirely shrouded in darkness. 
Leaping lightly onto the stage, Copia looked resplendent in his robes, with his face painted black and white in the mimicry of a skull. Swiss thought he cut an imposing figure, when he wasn’t turning around to look at his ghouls with nerve-tinged excitement at least. The man stretched his arms out wide, the candlelight flickering off his bedazzled chasuble and truly making him look like the head of the dark church. 
Before long, the tables began to fill up with locals, intrigued by the talk of visiting musicians from the mysterious Abbey up at the top of the hill. Rain, Dew and the other ghouls not performing settled themselves at the table nearest the stage, Dew looking particularly excited and practically bouncing in his seat beside Rain. Swiss didn’t know what had overtaken him recently, but he seemed so much lighter and carefree now. He assumed it was Rain. The bustling crowd completely filled the tavern as the four musicians took their places on stage. Swiss caught Mountain’s eye once he was settled on the box he used as percussion. He saw the twin green flashes of his eyes behind his mask wink at him, silently wishing him luck. Swiss beamed back at him, his teeth glinting in the firelight through the bottom of his mask. With a final tune of his guitar, and another smile at Sunny, Swiss nodded to Copia and the man addressed the crowd. 
The ritual passed in a blur, and before Swiss knew it, they were leaving the stage to rapturous applause and cheers. As he stepped down onto the solid floor, Swiss had a large beer thrust into his hands by a grinning stranger. The jubilant atmosphere continued as the night wore on, the ghouls and their Papa swept up with the crowd, never finding their tankards dry. Even the ghouls who had not been performing seemed to be having fun, spending the local money Copia had given them to allow them to fit in and enjoy the night. The man himself was circling through the crowd, inviting anyone and everyone to the Abbey’s harvest festival the following night. His plan to spread their message was going better than any one of them could have imagined, and he had gained the interest of several curious village members.  
The noise and ruckus were proving too much for Aether however, and after a while of watching Dew and Swiss race each other to down their pints, he grabbed a pair of tankards and slipped out the door. Another musician had taken the stage, an accordion player, and Aether found Cowbell tapping along to the beat on the frame and iron wheels of the cart with two sticks like it was a drum kit. Aether chuckled as he approached. 
“Copia ought to make the band all wear floor-length robes, then you could join them!” 
Cowbell looked slightly sheepish at being caught, but their forked tongue slipped out as they smiled anyway. They joined Aether where he perched on some crates and accepted one of the beers gratefully. Apart from the rhythmic sound of one foot and one hoof tapping on the ground, they sat in a comfortable silence; two friends enjoying each other’s quiet, unhurried company. 
Back inside, Swiss could feel every drop of alcohol going to his head, and he thought Mountain must be feeling it too. The night was blurring together into a busy cacophony of singing, cheering and laughing. The one thing he could feel coherently was the constant, grounding pressure of Mountain’s hands on him. The earth ghoul had slunk across the tavern to join him, then barely let him go all evening, always keeping a hold of his waist or hip, or letting their shoulders press against each other. If their tails weren’t safely hidden away, Swiss had the feeling that they too would be braided together.  
In his fuzzy mental state, he wasn’t entirely sure what could have brought such behaviour on. The almost possessive twinge to it, like Mountain was trying to ward the humans off, was making his him feel even more floaty than the alcohol. Running on a high from the successful performance, Swiss couldn’t find the mental energy to really care about why Mountain was suddenly glued to him, he only cared that he was. He saw Rain and Dew similarly pressed together, and his inebriated mind let him convince himself that they could be the same, if just for tonight. 
Whoever was on stage currently seemed to know the audience well and was gradually convincing more and more of the tavern’s patrons to dance to the jig he played. The humans pressing close, swirling and stamping to the beat, swept the ghouls up in their fervour. Swiss soon found himself pressed closer to Mountain, dancing partners even without indenting to be, the pair clutching each other's arms for balance as they ebbed and flowed with the tide of the crowd. 
As the dance ended, Swiss fell against Mountain’s chest. The earth ghoul held him close while they both caught their breath and laughed at the exhilaration. For a while, they held each other and swayed to a slow dance only they could hear. Hearts beating in sync, Swiss looked up at Mountain to see him already staring down at him. His peridot eyes were at the centre of his vision, the only thing Swiss could focus on. They seemed to grow and expand to fill his field of view, and Swiss only realised that this was because they were getting closer together when the twin points of light blurred out of focus.  
Swiss’s eyes fluttered shut, and with his vision gone all his other senses heightened in response. He could feel Mountain’s breath against his face and could smell the sour note of beer in it, although he didn’t find that as off-putting as he supposed he should as he stretched up on his tiptoes to bring them closer still. Swiss felt rather than heard Mountain’s final sigh against him, before the soft yet insistent press of Mountain’s lips to his shook him like an earthquake. With all their prior hesitancy washed away by the free-flowing liquor, Swiss pressed back instinctually, throwing his arms around Mountain’s shoulders and holding on like his life depended on it.  
Time meant nothing to the pair as they ignored the general ruckus of the crowd around them, and the chorus of whoops and cheers that Dew was leading. It was like all the background noise had faded away leaving only them stood in a world of their own. Before long, although it was really several hours at this point, Copia was desperately trying to shepherd his sleepy, tipsy ghouls and the Siblings into the cart to head back to the Abbey. They had a busy day tomorrow, he reminded them, as he had promised all the villagers that their little band would be performing at the harvest festival too.  
Slowly, they all stumbled out into the brisk night where Aether and Cowbell were waiting, three sheets to the wind themselves. Swiss and Mountain had managed to make it over the threshold of the tavern without separating, but getting into the cart proved more difficult. Breathing their own air for the first time in a while, they unsteadily clambered into the trailer, cramming themselves into a corner to continue where they left off, despite the jeers from the ghouls around them. 
“Even we're not that bad!” Swiss thought he heard Dew crow from somewhere behind him. 
Eventually, they had made the short trip back up the hill and were all bumbling back into the Abbey, still drunk off free beer and good energy. Kiss broken, Swiss continued to hold Mountain's hand as he pulled them into the Den and their room. He kicked his boots off, uncaring where they landed as they tumbled into bed, still giggly and touchy but both too tired to do any more than that.  
“Today was fun.” Swiss purred sleepily, as he wriggled in Mountain's arms. The earth ghoul was almost asleep already as he hummed in affirmation. Quickly, they fell into a deep, contented sleep. They could think about what the events of tonight meant for them in the morning. 
To be continued... 
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little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader
“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.
“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”
“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.
“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.
derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.
“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”
emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”
three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.
he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.
“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.
before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.
“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”
“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”
“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”
“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”
“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.
“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.
“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”
all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.
spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”
“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.
with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”
“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”
“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”
“i don’t like this conversation either.”
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fashion-runways · 7 months
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hi!! new pinned post, because the last one had gotten long again-- if you want to read previous posts, here's the first one, here's the second one. the tl;dr from those is that my dad got wrongfully imprisoned abruptly, our place was raided, the cops broke a bunch of shit and took a bunch of our things and still haven't returned them, they left all the broken things for us to spend money in repairing, we had to spend money on a lawyer, trips to visit him, new clothes, medicine and food for him in jail, etc. it was a mess, way more details in both posts. he's back home now, with an ankle monitor because technically his case isn't being investigated yet, they haven't done anything about it at all, the case hasn't moved one ounce lmao it's great, always trust the judicial system and cops!! ugh, anyway!
we found a therapist for my dad who can help her deal with all the stuff he had to deal with while in prison, all the bullying, the depression, the starving, the separation, etc. he needs to get a bunch of other medical appointments, has to get surgery, among other things, but for now things are much better on that front. that being said, he did lose his job and my old redbubble account got suspended without a warning months ago, plus argentina's economy is... really bad right now. food prices rise every day, public transportation prices went up like a 200% in a couple of weeks, salaries are low and stuck there, subsidies are gone, the local peso keeps falling, we have an absolute psychopath as a president who spends more time insulting or threatening anyone who oppose him than caring about people. it's a disaster. for updates on argentina in english, this person on twitter makes very good informative threads if you're interested.
anyway, i used to make around 30/40 dollars a month in redbubble, and that used to help adding up to the donations i got here, and it got suspended, so now i make like 1/2 dollars on teepublic monthly. so... it's a huge loss. there's a lot of things me and my mom are in charge of paying-- groceries, power and water and gas, medicine (she's diabetic, i have some sort of chronic sinusitis), our dog and cat's food and medicines, wifi, phone bills, public transportation, healthcare, my dad's new therapist... so, you know, i really need anything people can donate. even if it's just a single dollar, literally any amount helps. i love fashion so much and i love this blog, i work really hard on it even when my brain says no, and i really appreciate how much you guys love it too. i love seeing people discover new styles, new designers, new things to be inspired by. so, yeah... i'm never going anywhere, but i do need help to basically stay afloat.
as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. thanks for being around and sharing and reblogging my posts, thanks for asking questions about fashion, and of course thanks for helping to the ones who can, and thanks to the ones who can't too, i know how that feels like, don't worry about it. love you 💖
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sukunas-wife · 8 months
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i just wanna start and say that i luvvv ur blog and the dad sukuna fics are giving me life (🙏🏾). plsss could i ask 4 a scenario of yuuji being a menace 4 once. like 1 of the things he and sukuna can agree on is that no one touches or speaks 2 momma without permission, but a new servant doesn't know that?
🤔 I see what’s going on you want Yuji to bite people well he NOT KINDA BRAT, he latches on and shakes his head like a feral dog 😭😭 grrr
Idk what I was doing and where my plot came from I think I just pulled it out the air 😭
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“Lady Y/n!” You turned looking over at the eunuch who had been persistently following you all week. The poor young man according to the servants and your hand maids had grown “quite fond” of you. You looked over at Yuji, he had long run into the garden, sighing when your hand maids were stuck between going after Yuji or staying by your side. You waved them off when the eunuch got closer, “Ah, feels like I’ve been seeing you a lot lately. Especially outside the Palace walls.” You looked past him and he smiled, eyes becoming lidded. Silence filled the space and you gave him a sympathetic smile, “Did you need something or did you just run all this way to greet me Kamo?” You risked your arms into your sleeves eyeing the way he fidgeted with his hands. “I guess I came here just to greet you Lady Y/n..” he looked away, the blush on his cheeks was proof enough your ladies in waiting were right… Before you could dismiss him he spoke up with a hopeful look, “would you mind if I stood by your side for today Lady Y/n?” As much as you hated the idea of letting someone who’s not your husband or son be by your side all day, you had to think about it. You should say no because it would look bad if anyone were to notice him constantly at your side. Second, you don’t want to make a bad impression on Sukuna, he was your husband and you didn’t want to make him believe the rumours running around his own Palace.
“I appreciate your eagerness but the answer is no. I’m spending today with Yuji and I’m not allowing anything to take away from his time.” You dismissed him with a wave and he still smiled, “It’s alright, thank you Lady y/n. Maybe I can join you for the next time you feel like taking a walk in the garden.” You had already turned away but he held out hope, “Thank you for the offer Kamo but you really should get back to work.” You look over your shoulder at him with a faint smile, he nodded and ran off back to place and into the Curses den. The poor kid didn’t see Lord Sukuna lurking about watching the entire scene unfold. Sukun watched as you smiled over your shoulder in his general direction making his chest swell with pride, he knew he didn’t have to worry about you. It was that fool of a eunuch who would need to be taught his place.
————-
Yuji was by your side pulling your sleeve’s, “cmmooonnn mooomm Wanna goooooo” he ended up falling and lying on the floor looking up at you. He was spread out and he huffed. “I don’t want that eunuch to come he talks too mucchhhaaaahhh” his whine turned into a scream while he shook his head back and forth on the ground, “Yuji baby get up your gonna dirty.” You tried to help him up and he just laid limp in your hold, “Are we leaving now?”
“Yes we can go before Kamo shows up if you really don’t like him THAT much.” Yuji laid there while you tried to stand him up before he got “Mkay let’s go.” Yuji took your hand guiding you to the door and right when he opened it there was the voice that made him squint over his shoulder, “NO! GO AWAY KAMO!” You were amused how Yuji stuck his tongue out at the Eunuch while trying to drag you through the door into the garden again. You didn’t fight him and let him drag you doing your best to keep up. When he finally stopped, Yuji looked around, even jumping to look over a bush, “daddy doesn’t like him, he says he tried to talk to you toooo much.” He was waving his hands around exaggerating his point, “he said next time he tried to get close to take you away or fight him!” You watch as Yuji looked up at you holding little fists, his little round face was full of determination. You could help but kneel and place your hand on his head running it over the side of his face cupping his cheek. “Yuji you don’t have to worry about fighting that poor eunuch, there is nothing I would choose over you or Ryomen.”
He shook his head back and forth vigorously “nuh uh! Daddy said you’d say that and I shouldn’t listen!” You hugged Yuji, confusing him “awww my little Yu.” He leaned against you taking in your hug. “What else did daddy tell you, hm?”
———
There you sat with your husband, dressed up in vibrant Junihitoe with over 20 layers. Sukuna wore his usual attire, you were holding onto one of his arms listening to him talk about how Yuji had done well in his own training and along those lines. It was well into spring when the days were getting hotter and becoming longer summer days. Sukuna watched how you’d fan yourself closing your eyes for a brief moment of relief before leaning your head on his arm. He could feel your heat and there was no doubt in his mind it was all those layers in your silly little robes. He had a great idea, slowly he led you inside where you found relief out of the sun but those layers were still clinging to you in uncomfortable ways. When you were going to pull away Sukuna pulled you back into his side leaning down to whisper into your ear, “Now let’s get you out of those robes, your skins burning like all those nights I spent memorising every curve of your body.” The flush on your face flared up when you held onto him tighter, burying your face in his arm, “Ryomen!” You tried to scold him while he led you to the large bathing room. He took you in kissing you once the door was closed, he spared no time in stripping himself taking a step into the pool of cold water. A second step his hands were on your waist while you held his face kissing him, he mumbled against your lips “Let’s get these off of you.” He pressed his lips against your neck grazing you with his teeth, you tried to hold in your giggles when his hands opened your robes, letting his hands run over your sides while he bit into your skin sucking and marking you with a bright red mark, grazing his teeth over your skin when he made it to your chest. Your laughed and playful whispers could be heard outside the room and it left nothing to the imagination of what could be happening. This was a sign most servants took as “Don’t interrupt Lord Sukuna and Lady Y/n.” All except for one who walked in immediately after knocking. Kamo.. he was damn lucky Sukuna was just starting to slide your robes off your shoulders, you would’ve tried to push yourself away from Sukuna but he was your husband, what did you have to hide. Sukuna was too proud of his own physique to even think about maybe committing some form of decency. There you stood in his tight hold pulling you closer to the water, he rested his chin on your shoulder looking past you right at Kamo. He was smug about his situation, staring right at the eunuch, “What is it Kamo.” He couldn’t say anything, just staring at the both of you trying to think of something before Ryomen became annoyed, “I’ve killed better people for less,” he stood up, a set of arms still holding your waist and robes in place, there was no missing that Ryomen was in fact a man gifted not once but twice. He took that to his advantage when he noticed Kamo take a second look after he stepped from around you, “Speak now or lose your life, you better have a damn good reason for interrupting MY time with MY WIFE.” Just as Kamo was going to speak up, Yuji came running “Daddy DADDDY DADDY!” He stopped seeing his dad standing there in his full glory, “naked naked naked!” He closed his eyes when he pointed and laughed at his dad who just dead panned before turning to the eunuch, “Stop staring at my wife before you lose your living privileges and bring some towels.” He sent Kamo off and Yuji was still laughing behind his hand seeing his dad naked. You closed your robes, “Now that you're here Yuji you do need a bath.” You snatched him up before he could run out the door, Sukuna rolled his eyes “Great interrupted by the Eunuch and now that he’s gone you invite the brat.” Sukuna stared unamused as Yuji stripped jumping into the water, “‘m a fish”
———
It was a few days later when you were talking to one of your ladies in waiting and Yuji saw it. The way Kamo approached you reaching out to touch you to get your attention. He went running and screaming, the three of you turned to look at him, each of you confused until you noticed Yuji wasn’t running at you. He was running at Kamo who was about to touch you without your permission. It happens in slow motion how he jumped, little legs wrapping around his knee, the way his hands were clinging to the eunuch. He opened his mouth wide, threw his head back and made an exaggerated biting sound before he latched onto Kamo’s side. Your lady in waiting was shocked and you were just as speechless watching the eunuch try to pull Yuji off only for him to bite harder. Through the yells and little growls you could hear “don toufch mhh mhmmy” and he went back to shaking his head left and right.
Finally you came to your senses and tried to help take Yuji off of him, just as you took hold of Yuji Kamo winced and managed to hit you. Yuji let go and gasped very dramatically, he slipped out of your hands when your lady in waiting ran over to you to see if you were okay. You stood up holding your cheek staring at Kamo, as much as you’d like to take blame for Yuji biting him he shouldn’t have been trying to touch in the first place. You saw Yuji with his fists up “YOU HIT MY MOMMY” he swung hitting Kamo right in his manhood.
It didn’t take long for the word to spread, before you knew it Sukuna had you sitting in your seperate room. Yuji was going to follow his dad out of the room until he gave him a silent look, making him turn around and run back to you. He stood in front of you laying his chest and arms on your lap looking up at you with a small smile, “you're so pretty mommy.”
You laughed at his words shaking your head with a smile, “Aw my little prince Yuji here to make me feel better hm?” He stretched his arms up so you’d pull him into your lap. You did and he smiled at his reflection, you were sitting in front of the vanity in your room. He pouted looking up at you, “you okay?” He started to bite his finger when you looked down at him with teary eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault in some way. “Yeah it’s just been a long day Yu.”
He hummed, swinging his legs and falling limp in your arms, “daddy said he’s gonna fix him..” you were confused there was no doubt in your mind Ryomen would kill the man on sight once he faced him.
Time passed to the point that both of you got bored of waiting and ended up on the bed listening to Yuji ramble about how he was so cool and how could beat Sukuna in a fight. One day he was gonna have his own big temple and you could live with him because there wouldn’t be nasty old eunuchs running around.
“Hey brat, that's my wife, she's not going with you to your house or anywhere at all.” Yuji was quick to jump up and run over when you slowly sat up on the bed, “Dad!” Sukuna grabbed him by the back of his shirt pulling him up and onto his shoulder giving him a little bag, Yuji opened it, looked in and closed it throwing it on the floor making a loud “eeeewww”
Sukuna looked at you, you looked back at him, he didn’t seem too happy. He walked over to you bringing his hand up, you didn’t look away when he took your face in his hand shaking his head.
“I’m alright Ryo…” his thumb rubbed your cheek, “He’s not.” Yuji shivered, leaning over on his dads head to tell you “Look in the bag.”
Sukuna side eyed Yuji who looked away, “what’s in the- the balls he had that made him think he could lift his hand.”
“But he’s a- he wasn’t, he became a eunuch a few hours ago and now he is gone.” Sukuna’s face was smug when he flipped Yuji off his shoulder and onto your bed, “Now there’s something I want to finish that he interrupted.” He nodded at the door and you felt your face heat up, “y-yeah.” Yuji was busy laughing and rolling over in your bed to notice his parents little game of bedroom eyes.😭
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hellodropbear · 19 days
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chosen.
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mapi leon x ingrid engen x daughter
isabel is finally adopted
new chapter!!!
as always, hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think (good or bad lol) and anything else you want to see :)
~~~~~~
It was something Isabel had been nagging Mapi about for months. Maybe even longer. 
Isabel wasn't stupid anymore, she knew that Mapi had not planned to be her mother. There were other people, and half of her was made of who was supposed to be her father, the man that Mapi spoke so highly of despite getting choked up every time he was brought up in conversation. 
She knew they had died right before she was born and she knew that Mapi was left with a baby that she hadn't actually asked for. 
Isabel knew Mapi stopped playing football until she was older, taking a long chunk out of what would have likely been the peak of her career. 
She knew Ingrid came along later, which is why she had grown up calling her Ingrid. 
She didn't call her Mami, she didn't call her Mama. She called her Ingrid which just seemed so wrong. 
Because Ingrid was her mother, as much as Mapi. 
Mapi had given birth to her, she was a single mother for the first two years probably, until her relationship with Ingrid started getting more serious and both Isabel and Mapi became more and more reliant on the brunette Norwegian that they had fallen in love with so quickly. 
Isabel looked like Mapi, and she carried a few of her personality traits around with her. Outgoing, funny, chatty. 
But Ingrid also raised her, which meant she carried around the Norwegian's calmness, her kindness and her emotional nature. 
She was practically a carbon copy of Mapi on the outside, but anyone who knew her on the inside would say she was the perfect blend of both women. 
So how come she only called one of them Mami? 
Why was it that if she was seriously injured, only Mapi would be called up?
And Isabel wasn't stupid, she knew that Ingrid wished she had been there from the beginning, that her name was written on all of the important documents. She knew that Ingrid wished she was called Mama. 
Not Ingrid. 
When she was younger, Isabel would call Ingrid Mama when she was tired or sad, if she wanted a hug or if she was just feeling emotional. 
It would be in those tender moments and Ingrid's heart would melt every time. It was always in the apartment, hidden away from the rest of the world and just the three of them there together. 
But it never really stuck, and Isabel continued to call her by her first name everywhere else. Her teachers would ask about Mami and they'd ask about Ingrid, her friends would get confused because who is Ingrid?
They all just had a Mami and a Papi. 
Ingrid always thought that Mami and Mama would make more sense. 
So when Mapi knocked on her bedroom door, an official looking document held securely in her hand, Isabel had a very large suspicion that she knew exactly what was in that plastic slip. 
Mapi could tell she knew, the way her eyes lit up and she immediately placed her guitar to the side, sitting up as Mapi moved to sit beside her. 
"Is it them?"
Mapi smiled, tears in her eyes. 
"Yeah, it is."
"Mami!" Isabel practically jumped on her trying to hug her, tears springing from her eyes as well. "Thank you so much!"
Mapi just shrugged. 
"She's your Mama and has been for your whole life, this just makes it official."
"We have to plan something so special! Mami, I can't wait to tell her!"
Mapi laughed softly, planting a kiss on Isabel's head and hugging her in close. 
"We'll just have to make sure she says yes! She might not want to be officially related to a little rodent like you."
Isabel laughed, whacking her mother's side in mock offence and rolling her eyes. 
They both knew that it wasn't true, that Ingrid loved Isabel more than anything else. 
"She loves me more than you, Mami, you're just jealous."
Mapi laughed, silently agreeing. 
She would never admit that though. 
"You wish."
~~~~~~
Isabel spent every minute of the next two weeks planning what would be the perfect surprise for Ingrid, only requesting advice from Mapi a few times. 
It was a photo album that she was creating, filled with just pictures of them as Isabel got older, Mapi only featuring at times that Isabel deemed it absolutely necessary.
Birthdays, christmases, family barbecues, trips to Norway. Summer holidays on the beach. 
Skating competitions, Isabel stood there proudly with the gold medal hanging round her neck, a giddy smile on her face as Ingrid had picked her up despite her rapidly growing figure. 
She had scrolled through all of Mapi's old photos, printing out the good ones and sticking them in the page with stickers and little notes until it was completely full. 
She wrote a letter, enlisting Caro to help her perfect her Norwegian, making her swear to secrecy - the contents of the note were strictly confidential. 
She came up with a plan, something she knew Ingrid would love. A walk to their park was nothing worth being suspicious of, not even when the 10 year old pulled out Bagheera’s carrier. 
It was a family affair, she told Mapi. It would be mean to leave the cat out of it just because she didn’t usually go on their walks. 
It was a nice walk and a nice picnic, planned out to the T by Isabel, down to what colour lined the paper plates and how the fruits on the fruit platter would be cut. 
Everything she did was for Ingrid and if the Norwegian had asked her, she would have been able to explain every single decision in a way that related back to how much she loved Ingrid. 
Perhaps, for that reason, it was best that the papers were forgotten at home, because Ingrid would have been inconsolable if she saw the papers, the photo album and then was explained every single little decision made by her little girl. 
Isabel was disappointed, but Mapi reassured her that the Norwegian would not mind, that her reaction wouldn't change whether she was given those papers on the top of the eiffel tower or in a dump in the middle of the city. 
So the 10 year old waited until they got home and finished eating dinner, only heading up to her room to collect the file once Mapi and Ingrid were sat on the sofa, waiting for their child to return and choose something to watch. 
She couldn't help the nerves that filled up her stomach, the anxieties that began to attack her as soon as the file was in her shaking hand. She almost felt sick as she walked downstairs, spying the back of Ingrid's head, hearing their voices chatting and laughing. 
It took one last push of confidence to walk and stand in front of them, the file held tightly in her hands as she anxiously rocked back and forth on her heels. 
She took a deep breath, realising that everything she had planned to say was long forgotten, instead just brandishing the file towards Ingrid, who took it with an air of confusion as she glanced between Isabel and Mapi. 
"What's this, Is?"
Isabel cowered under her glance, suddenly full of insecurity and self doubt. Would Ingrid even want to be her mother?
She had spent so much time thinking about how much she wanted Ingrid to be her mother, that she sort of ignored the possibility that the Norwegian didn't want that. 
And that would completely break the 10 year old. 
"Just open it." Mapi smiled reassuringly at Isabel, noticing her nerves, before looking over at Ingrid who had completely frozen as soon as she read the first few words on the top of the first page. 
She immediately broke down in tears, her body racking with sobs as she realised what she had just been given.
~~~~~~
"Isabel Leon! We're going and we're going now!" Ingrid was beyond frustrated, the 8 year old not listening to a word she said. Mapi was out of town for the week so they had been left alone together and the child was experiencing a severe case of 'I miss my mum' and it was materialising as disobedience and ignorance of Ingrid. 
"No!" She slammed her door closed for effect, throwing herself on her bed and willing herself not to cry. 
"Isabel, this is important and I can't leave you here. We have to go, you can sulk in the car."
The Norwegian was stood right outside the door, her hands massaging her head in frustration at the girl. 
"No! I'm not coming."
Ingrid huffed, shoving open the bedroom door and picking the ever-growing child up from her bed. 
"Ingrid!" She screeched loudly, almost deafening the brunette. "NO! Put me down, Ingrid, NOW!"
Her words dissolved into sobs as Ingrid continued to carry her until they had exited the apartment, the door locked behind them, Isabel left with no way to get back in. 
"I want Mami, Ingrid, I miss Mami!"
She shook her head, using her hand to guide the child into the lift. 
"Well Mami's gone, so you're stuck with me for now. You're just going to have to make do."
The child lashed out at the words and the contact, flipping around and facing Ingrid as the elevator doors closed. 
"There's a reason you're not my Mami!"
Her vision was blurred by her tears so she couldn't see the hurt that flashed over the woman's face. She only realised later that night that what she said was wrong, that she had been horrible to someone she loved so much for no reason. 
And Ingrid would never admit the reason that she was in tears as Mapi called her that night, alone and wrapped up in bed. 
As she put down the phone, tears still dripping down her face. It wasn’t often that her insecurities returned, but when they did it was like wildfire, quickly spreading and destroying everything good in it’s path. 
Because Isabel was right, Ingrid wasn’t her Mami. She wasn’t her Mama either, she was just Ingrid. 
She was Isabel’s Mami’s girlfriend. 
But if she asked either of the Spaniard’s, they would assure her that she is so much more than that. 
It was with desperation that she tried to wipe her tears away as her bedroom door creaked open, Isabel creeping through the door and silently climbing up onto Mapi’s side of the bed, curling herself up in Ingrid’s side. 
The Norwegian didn’t realise she was crying until she heard the sniffle, her shoulders shuddering subtly.
“Is.” Ingrid’s voice was a whisper and Isabel turned around to face her, eyes puffy and her cheeks stained with tears. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Ingrid.”
She took a deep, shuddery breath and nestled her head into Ingrid’s chest. 
“Please don’t leave me and Mami.”
Ingrid frowned, wrapping her arms tighter around the girl. 
“Why would you think I was leaving you and your Mami?”
Isabel shrugged, her voice breaking as she replied. 
“I said that you’re not my Mami, but you are. I was naughty and you were angry and I don’t want you to leave me, Ingrid, because I love you.”
The Norwegian’s heart broke but she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and responding. 
“I will never leave you and your Mami. Never ever worry about that because I will always be here. And you were just upset today, you missed Mami and you were angry and sad and said stuff to me that you didn’t mean but it’s ok, Is, because you know it was naughty and you’ve apologised. But please, never ever worry about me leaving. I love you way too much to not see you every single day.”
~~~~~~
“Where is Ingrid, Mami?” 
She had woken up confused, her head sore and her arm in a cast. 
All she could remember was dragging Pina and Patri to the skatepark, showing off her new tricks. They were impressive, for a 9 year old and Mapi worried every day about her little girl flying around the skatepark with little to no concern about her own safety. 
When Pina and Patri had offered to babysit, she specifically told them that if they went to the skatepark, Isabel had to wear all the protective equipment that Mapi had purchased. 
Which she did, the two women making sure everything was on tight, equally as nervous as Mapi tended to be whenever she had to accompany Isabel to the skatepark. 
But whenever Pina or Patri turned their back, she would discreetly shed another protective item, embarrassed and humiliated in front of all the local skaters who wore nothing but their normal clothes and a helmet. 
They noticed, of course they did, but Isabel was too quick on her board for them to catch her and put them back on.
“Pequena!” Patri had yelled, her voice stressed and somewhat angry. “Come back here right now and put this all back on!”
It was rare Patri yelled at her, so the harsh words came as a shock to Isabel, who tried to pull off a spin at the top of the bowl so she could turn around. 
Except it was a trick she hadn’t quite mastered yet, and instead of landing it on two feet, she plummeted to the base of the bowl with a sickening crunch, immediately bursting into tears. 
Pina swore as Patri jumped down to her, scooping her up in her arms and giving her a quick once over. 
Her heart sank when she saw the wonky arm. Broken, easily. 
Pina grabbed the board and followed quickly, jumping into the drivers seat as Patri carefully slid into the back, nursing Isabel’s arm as the 9 year old sobbed in pain. 
“Please, Patri!” She had sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t tell Mami, she will be so mad at me.”
Patri sighed quietly, knowing that Mapi’s anger would be directed entirely at Pina and herself. 
She didn’t tell Isabel that, instead kissing her head and soothing her, whispering quiet Spanish in her ear until her cries weakened and she fell asleep. 
The doctors in the hospital had confirmed the broken arm, as well as a very minor concussion that required monitoring for 24 hours. 
But she woke up, her mother’s familiar tattooed hand resting on her leg, her eyes full of worry and stress as she stared down at her daughter. 
Ingrid, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.
Mapi had been so caught up in her daughter’s injuries that she hadn’t even considered where Ingrid was having not seen her since that very morning. 
“I’m so glad you’re ok, my lion cub.”
The discipline about her gear would come later. Even if Patri and Pina had disregarded it, she had told Isabel time and time again about it’s importance. Today, unfortunately, Mapi had been proven right. 
She had yelled that to the two younger Spaniards as they waited in the hallway, sending them home with their heads bowed and tears in their eyes. 
For some reason, they didn’t tell her that they had been extra careful all day, Isabel only getting hurt after they had told her to come back to replace all her knee pads. Mapi was so angry, which they had understood. 
They were just upset because she had told them they would never see the little girl again, mapi couldn’t trust two people so irresponsible.
It was dramatic, of course, but Pina and Patri had never seen Mapi so angry before. 
“Where’s Ingrid?”
Mapi sighed quietly, stroking Isabel’s hair back. 
“I’ll call Ingrid, she can come in.”
She did just that, easily dialling the Norwegian on her phone, only having to wait through two rings before she picked up. 
“Is has been asking for you, Ingrid, do you want to come over to the hospital?”
Mapi hadn’t really known where Ingrid was, but her concern about why her girlfriend wasn’t there was sort of pushed to the side as she worried about her daughter’s wellbeing. 
She didn’t expect Ingrid to sound so frustrated, so upset. 
“I’ve been here this whole time, Mapi! They won’t let me up because I’m not on her documents. You’re her mother, not me.”
The Spaniard’s heart dropped, immediately filling with guilt. 
“I’ll be right there.”
She was practically flying down the stairs, grabbing Ingrid by the arm and pulling her into the lift. 
“I’m sorry, Ingrid. I’m so sorry.”
It was hard for the Spaniard to keep her tears at bay, the emotions of her day catching up with her. But Ingrid broke down in her arms, silently crying. 
“She’s my kid too, Mapi. She’s my kid too.”
Isabel didn’t know why both Ingrid and Mapi were crying when they entered her room again, but she did finally feel at ease with them both on either side of her, swiftly falling asleep as their hands rested on her smaller form. 
~~~~~~
Her first day of school had gone well. Better than well, really, she had loved everything about it. 
Her teacher, her friends, the food, her new pencil case and backpack. 
Everything had been perfect. It was still perfect as she spied her mother standing by the gate, Baloo’s leash in her hand as the young golden retriever stood steady by her side. 
“Mamiii!” 
Her backpack was dropped on the floor as she raced towards Mapi, throwing herself into her open arms and sighing contentedly as she was picked up, her head fitting easily on Mapi’s shoulders. 
“Oh hello there!” 
Mapi smiled, walking over to the abandoned school bag and skillfully bending down to pick it up with one hand, her daughter and the dog’s leash being held securely in the other. 
“How was your day, Is?”
Her question caused the girl to burst into excited chatter, eating Mapi’s ear off with her words as she recounted every possible story from the moment she was dropped off the the moment she was reunited, her words so quick that she was all finished by the time they arrived back to the apartment. 
“I made a friend, Mami!” 
She skipped beside her mother as they walked towards the lift, a grin settled on her face. 
Mapi was impressed, but not remotely surprised. It seemed that her daughter had inherited her own chattiness and confidence, but she was also an inherently happy kid who practically radiated sunshine. 
Mapi never had to worry about the girl making friends. 
So she listened as Isabel told her all about her new friend Sofie, about how she wasn’t even from Spain. 
“She’s from the same place as Esmee, Mami!” 
Dutch, Mapi thought. She wondered what a Dutch family was doing in Barcelona.
She continued to talk about Sofie’s older brother, her mother and father. Her grandparents and her cousins. 
But a small frown settled upon her face, as she looked up at Mapi with an inquisitive gaze. 
“I told her that I have a Mami, but no Papi. She asked who else looks after me because her Mami needs her Papi’s help all the time, so I told her I have an Ingrid, but she didn’t really get it. Because Ingrid isn’t a Papi.”
Mapi sighed, unclipping Baloo from his leash and moving to unpack Isabel’s backpack.
“Come up here, Is.” She patted the kitchen bench in front of her and the girl raced over, pulling herself up onto the bench with a practised ease. 
“You don’t have a Papi, no. But you have a Mami, don’t you?” Isabel nodded her head eagerly, wriggling slightly in her spot. “And who else do you have?”
“I have an Ingrid!” 
Mapi nodded, but gave her a look that prompted her to continue. 
“And an Ale, a Frido, Esmee! Pina, Patri. Leila, even though she lives all the way in England.”
“Who else?”
“Abuela and Abuelo! And tio and tia!” 
Mapi nodded proudly, placing her hands on Isabel’s shoulders. 
“You don’t have a Papi, Is, but you do have so many people here that love you, Ingrid more than anyone. We can’t even remember life without Ingrid, can we?”
Isabel shook her head, frowning. 
“I miss her when she’s away.”
“So do I.”
It was true, the house always seemed so much more quiet whenever the Norwegian had to return to Norway, even though she made by far the least noise out of all of them. She was a popular presence and one that made life so much more enjoyable for the two of them. 
Of course on the other side, Ingrid missed them equally as much and she was absolutely devastated that her national team duties were pulling her away from Isabel as she started school, one of the biggest days yet in her short life. 
But she had missed yet another milestone, just as she was cementing her place as a mother in Isabel’s life. 
“But Is, she’s your Mami too. You know this, she’s Mama.”
Isabel nodded. 
“I don’t think Sofie knew that it was ok to have no Papi because she looked sad when I told her.”
“Well, tomorrow you can tell Sofie that you’re ok! You don’t need a Papi because you have a Mama instead. Tell Sofie that families always look different but that doesn’t mean we love each other any less.”
She grinned, her head bobbing up and down happily. 
“I love you Mami!” 
Mapi smiled, reciprocating her words without hesitation. 
“Do you want to call Ingrid and tell her the same thing?”
“Let’s call Mama!” 
Mapi smiled with pride, scooping Isabel up in her arms and walking them over to the sofa as she dialled Ingrid. 
And that is where they sat for the next couple of hours, on the phone to their Ingrid, cuddled up in each others arms. 
It was Mapi’s favourite place, only made better when the Norwegian was right there too, her soft skin providing that extra love and warmth that both Spaniards desired so deeply. 
Ingrid was family now. Irreplaceable and incomparable. 
But if you asked Mapi, she would say that Ingrid had been family from the moment she first held Isabel in her arms. 
~~~~~~
Isabel watched as Ingrid broke down, tears streaming down her face and landing with big splats on her legs. 
The Norwegian was always going to be emotional, that was expected. Both Spaniards knew how insecure she was about her place in Isabel’s life, her role in this family. The insecurities were thick, stubborn. They never went away, despite how much Isabel and Mapi tried to cut them out, to push them away. 
The truth was enough for them to withstand any pushing that the mother daughter duo attempted, the facts were all there. 
Mapi was Isabel’s mother, she was the one on the documents, the one who was called if anything happened. She was allowed in Isabel’s hospital room when she got sick and she was the one that Isabel called Mami. 
Ingrid knew she was important, she knew she was loved. 
But she had always been Ingrid, excluding those few treasured times where Isabel had tiredly reached out for Mama. She found everything out through Mapi, she wasn’t even on the email list for her school. 
But these documents changed everything. 
For Ingrid, they changed everything. 
For Isabel and Mapi they changed nothing at all. 
Ingrid’s tears were expected, they were justified. But all she needed to do was look up at Isabel for her to run into her arms, almost toppling her over from her seated position on the sofa with the shear force of her body ramming into Ingrid’s, her arms easily wrapping around her. 
The Norwegian reciprocated the hug, her tears saturating the shoulder of Isabel’s shirt. 
“Do you want to be my Mama?”
Ingrid’s sobs became more audible as she tried to respond, words failing her as she nodded. The tears continued, Baloo looking up in confusion as the Norwegian cried, as Mapi did nothing to console her, instead watching on with a wet smile, tears dripping down her face. 
She was grateful to Ingrid because without her, life would be completely different. Without Ingrid, she would likely be a single mother. She and Isabel would live alone, Bagheera there too but Baloo wouldn’t have been an option if there wasn’t another adult there. 
Ingrid was the first time Mapi ever felt true love, the first time she ever felt like she was loved completely and romantically. The Norwegian made her happy, she made Isabel happy too. 
She had changed their lives for the better. 
Mapi would never be able to thank her enough. 
She watched as Ingrid’s cries softened, as she leant back and grabbed Isabel’s shoulders, looking at her straight in the eyes. 
“I would love nothing more, Isabel.”
It wasn’t long before Isabel disappeared, racing up to her room to grab her gift. As she left, Mapi easily retook her spot beside the Norwegian, kissing away the tears that still fell from her eyes. 
“You didn’t have to do this, Maria. I can’t believe it.”
The brunette just shrugged. 
“This is what’s right. You’ve raised her with me, you’re her mother, Ingrid. I didn’t think it was necessary for such a long time but last year at the hospital… it’s important to me that you know it only took me so long because it won’t change anything for me. You have always been her mother, ever since you walked into my life.”
Ingrid nodded, ready to reply before she heard the feet thundering back down the stairs, telling Mapi that they would have this conversation later. 
Shyly, Isabel handed over a neatly folded piece of paper and the photo book, sitting down on the other side of Ingrid as they flipped through it. 
It was how they spent the rest of the night, snuggled up together on the sofa, lots of tears shed as they flipped through the book of photos. 
Isabel fell asleep once they were done, the TV turned on as all three of them were emotionally exhausted, eyes puffy and faces red. Ingrid could only smile, her hand tangling up in Isabel’s head of hair as she slept peacefully on her mother’s lap. 
“My daughter. She’s my daughter, Maria.”
~~~~~~
It was a week of happiness in the Engen-Leon household, the Norwegian radiating positivity as she adjusted to her new role in Isabel’s life. 
Nothing changed, really, except for Ingrid’s security.
It wasn’t even something you could see from the outside, but Mapi knew her well enough to understand how much happier she was, like she had finally been relieved from a weight that she’d been carrying around for so long. It was a relief for all of them. 
The letter that Isabel wrote, however, had been left unread on her bedside table. 
It was in Norwegian, that much she knew. Apparently, the 10 year old had called up Caro to ask for some help with the language, making sure it was perfect before she gave it to her mother. 
It was a bit more than a week later, her and Mapi laying in bed one evening, Isabel fast asleep in her room down the hall. The Spaniard was scrolling through her phone, her spare hand lazily carding through Ingrid’s thick locks. 
The Norwegian was holding that folded piece of paper, staring at it like it held the secrets to the world. 
“Just open it.”
Mapi chuckled as soon as she store what her Norwegian was looking at, the familiar lined paper forever etched into her brain after such a big deal had been made about it. 
“It’s in Norwegian!” Ingrid smiled, looking over at Mapi. “Caro said I should prepare my tissues, Maria!”
“You would have cried if she said ‘I hate you Ingrid I wish you weren’t my Mama’ if it was written in Norwegian.”
Ingrid rolled her eyes at Mapi chuckled at her own joke, her phone dropping into her lap. 
“It won’t say that though. It will probably be heart wrenching because our girl is smart and has a unique way with words.”
Ingrid flopped backwards onto her pillow, sighing dramatically. 
“I’m going to be sobbing, Mapi.”
The Spaniard could only shrug. 
“Probably.”
It took a few more sighs and a couple more minutes for her to open the letter, unfolding the piece of paper at a painfully slow speed, Mapi just rolling her eyes at Ingrid’s dramatics. 
But the brunette’s eyes glazed over as soon as she saw the first line, neat Norwegian printed onto the page. 
Dear Mama. 
And so the waterworks began. 
I haven’t called you Mama my whole life, but I don’t really know why. You’re my Mama, you always have been. When I talk to my friends, I’ll call you Ingrid, but I will always question why, I’ll question why I call you that. 
I know that Mami was the one who had me, that she didn’t mean to have me and was only left with me because the people who I was named after, Isabel and Luis, died. 
She always tells me not to say that she was left with me because it makes it sound like she didn’t want me, which isn’t true. 
But Mami never had the choice, even if she didn’t want me. She was left with me, a baby. I would have been a lot of work. But she loves me and I love her so it worked and I don’t have any memories of being sad. 
I don’t have any memories of that time at all, really. No memories of anything that happened before you came. 
You had the choice, Mama. You didn’t have to choose to be my Mama. You love Mami and she loves you of course, but she had a baby. You didn’t have to take me into your arms and immediately love me as much as you do. 
You could have chosen that you wanted nothing to do with me, you could have chosen to just be Mami’s girlfriend - a step mother who doesn’t really love her step-daughter. 
But you didn’t choose that. You chose to love me and I chose to love you. 
Somehow, it seems so much more special that way. 
You’ve been there for me my whole life. You took me to Norway with you, the first time I left the country without Mami. You would look after me when she was sad, take me to the park and distract me with toys and Baloo. You were the one who convinced Mami to let me on a skateboard and you were the one who realised that I didn’t like football, taking the pressure off me to succeed at the sport you both love. 
You have been to every school awards night, concert, play. You are always there and I always spot you because you always have such a big smile on your face, one that I like to think is reserved just for me and Mami. 
And I love you so much. You make me so happy and you always have. 
I can’t believe how lucky I am that you chose to love me like you do.
Lots of love,
Your daughter Is. 
The tears that had been pouring down her face were hitting her legs as she finished reading, Mapi’s arms pulling her close as she carefully folded the paper back up, putting it in the top drawer of her nightstand. 
“My daughter Is.” She whispered softly and if Mapi wasn’t right in her space, she wouldn’t have been able to hear. 
“Your daughter Is.” She confirmed, using her finger to gently wipe away her tears. “She loves you so much.”
Ingrid could only nod, words once again failing her. 
“We both love you so very much. We are both so grateful for you and everything you do to make our lives so much better.”
“I love you too, Maria.”
~~~~~~
hope you enjoyed! please let me know what you thought and send in anything you want to see :)
have a good day!
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leehoney0 · 10 months
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OK?
Female reader . suggestive . Bimbo in the apocalypse!
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Bimbo reader! Having to be dragged away from a store as she stares down a mannequin for a skirt you’ve been eyeing since before the end of the world,rick having to talk you out of it.There was no way you could take down all those walkers that invaded the store.
Bimbo reader! Going on runs with rick to help him out since everyone was so busy,rick knows you only come with him so you can look through peoples abandoned closets and you get some alone time with your favorite dilf!
Bimbo reader! Who is only allowed to wear her bright pink clothes when there at base!,rick would never risk you getting hurt so he makes sure he gives you a yes on your outfit before heading out.
Bimbo reader! Crying as you ruined one of your shirts with walker guts,Rick holding you as you cry into his chest.him having to explain to you that you should of left your good clothes at home.
Bimbo reader! always listening to ricks commands if he feels it’s too dangerous,he send you off to hide until he calls your name to come out from your hiding spot,running into his arms to make sure he’s alright.
Bimbo reader! and Rick having a code word,it being the name of your favorite brand,him and you using it since you came across the wrong guy once and he never wants that to happen again!
Bimbo reader! meeting the new recruits,not noticing how they all seem to be staring at your chest,whispering among themself if you had a boyfriend and who would get a chance with the dumb klutz who’s clothes didn’t wear appropriate clothes for an apocalypse!
Bimbo reader! who makes her cell all pink,choosing one in the corner to have more privacy,lucky you didn’t have to share.ricks rooms was next to yours,although he likes yours better.you always found nice pillows on your runs.
Bimbo reader! giving kisses to everyone she likes,thanking them by a peck on their cheek,Daryl who brings you back something knowing your gonna give him one of your peck.. Rick glaring at the interactions.
Bimbo reader! Glaring at anyone who stares at Rick,not Knowing he wouldn’t give them the light of day as he overheard them gossiping,how it wasn’t right the way you dressed,Rick keeping you close to him that night showing you off proudly!
Bimbo reader! Who Wouldn’t stop crying when they all got separated after the prison getting stuck with Maggie,your cheeks always stained with tears not knowing where Rick was or if he was even alive.
Bimbo reader! Not being able to function without Rick,he was always there to protect you.everyone wondered how you were able to survive this long,reuniting with Rick was the happiest you had ever been.
Bimbo reader! when entering Alexandria had a lot of the guys asking for your time,you had been so busy looking for Rick that you had brushed them off without even knowing what they were asking.staring at your behind of you ran off to find Rick
Bimbo reader! Not really having a job around Alexandria,they tried to find you something to do but you just couldn’t grasp much,so they just made you water the plants and crops since that was the easiest thing around.
Bimbo reader! Not liking any of the clothes they offered when you first arrived begging Rick or Daryl to take you to the nearest abandoned homes or shops go find something more appealing.more PINK
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Why can’t I just be a girl without someone telling me it goes back to the patriarchy… IKNOW let me live jeez I know!!!! Anyways enjoy inst the best but havent been writing good these past few times
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bbangtans · 6 months
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daybreak | jjk | oneshot teaser
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Summary: One of your favorite things to do when you were in your early 20s was stay up late where reflective conversations eventually blurred into nonsense as the sun rose alongside someone you thought you would spend the rest of your days with… Now you’re stuck in New York City for one night due to a delayed flight with that very person standing there in his leather jacket and guitar case in hand across from you at the airport gate. See, fate is a funny thing and Jeon Jungkook could always find the humor in anything.
pairing: rockstar!ex!jk x f!reader genre/tropes: angst, fluff, exes to ???, right person wrong time/second chances, jungkook is so romance film lead coded – charismatic and well-spoken and genuine and ughhhhh i be fawning frrrr, this takes place where both jk and reader are 28ish, jk is a lead singer in a band with tae-jimin-yoongi, and y/n is a working professional rating/warnings: M | alcohol consumption, lots of swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don’t be all willy nilly with this tho!!!), dig bick jk lmfao, oral (f receiving), heavy petting, multiple orgasms. a/n: inspired by my faaaaaave movie before sunrise bc if there’s anything namjoon and i have in common, it’s that we are yearners 🤝 word count: ~10k POSTED: link
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You cursed every cliched metaphor referencing the elusiveness of time… the grains of sand slipping through fingertips, the ticking of clock hands that echo in the back of your head, the passage of breezes, and the eventual rising of the morning sun. 
Jungkook smiled gently, wiping away a tear with his thumb which you didn’t even feel form as it fell down your cheek. “Don’t worry.”
“I just want you to know that I loved being in this moment. Sharing this night with you, that tonight it felt like New York was all ours. I could have never seen its beauty and experienced its magic the way I did with you.” Barely managing through your cries, you gasped for a breath as you tried to make out the next words. “But why did things have to turn out this way?”
The loud caws of the seagulls as they flew over the pier and the cold morning air fell onto forgotten senses as the only thing you could feel was the intensity of Jungkook’s stare on you. From your forehead that he placed a tender kiss upon, to your eyes that mirrored that silent longing his contained, the nose that he nuzzled against his, and chin that he held softly in his rough hand… It was like he was taking a picture of you at that moment. A moment where he was not rockstar Jeon Jungkook, but the Jungkook who always found a way to make you laugh and the Jungkook you dreamed of sharing matching rings with. And you were not the person living too fast for anyone to keep up with, but a person who could find the beauty in anything and the person that Jungkook could write a million and one songs about.
“Shh,” he comforted you as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. “I really can’t thank you enough for tonight… I’ve never hated to see morning as much as I do now.” He chuckled dryly at the irony of all. 
You pulled back, surprising the man who towered over you. You held his confused face in your hands and smiled. “Me, too. I hope you know that.”
“I do now…” He whispered as though louder words could break the moment before placing a chaste kiss on one of the hands that cupped his face.
“Now what?” Your hands fell from his face and rested on his chest. 
Jungkook sighed in contemplation as he peered past you into the blossoming orange horizon before recentering his eyes on you and grin losing its warmth and being replaced with sadness. “Good morning, I guess.”
The gravity of the situation settled upon you both silently.
“None of that dramatic ‘goodbye’ shit in the morning!” You tipsily pointed at Jungkook with your beer who only laughed at your theatrics as some foam spilled.
Between chuckles, Jungkook was barely able to let out. “Okay, then what do we say at the end? When it’s morning?”
“What people always say at that time – ‘good morning’ and not goodbye. Let’s make it a nice ending for us, I feel like that would do us both justice.” Your gaze was too hazy to see the seriousness that lined his face but he shook it off and plastered his signature smile despite the storm in his heart. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but I don’t want to be sad in those last minutes with you.”
“Okay, we’ll bid each other ‘good morning’ when dawn comes then we go on with the rest of our lives. No sad stuff.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise.”
“Good morning, Jungkook.” No matter how dazzling your smile was, Jungkook could never be distracted from the tears that lined your gorgeous eyes. 
No physical closeness could ever combat the weight of what daybreak meant for you both.
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kusakiguzen · 3 months
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Yandere One Piece x Reader
A/N: just fic that i wrote when i was board! Hope you enjoy reading it as much i enjoyed writing it.
Imagine the Straw Hats being annoyed with Cultivator Reader who gets sea sick alot but was also clingy. Almost always in choppers office during storms or when there are big waves. Chewing on Lemon Grass, Cloves or just licking some salt to help with it since you don't want to bother chopper much.
It had gotten worse ever since you entered the new world, The unpredictable weather makes you feel worried that you hold the crew back. The crew on the other hand were very understanding at first but soon they started to get annoyed, even Sanji and Chopper. You felt so bad about it that you always had a clove in your mouth so even if the weather changes it won't affect you that much.
But one day... You over heard them saying how you shouldn't have joined the crew if you get so sea sick since, pirates literally travel through the sea on top of that you never leave anyone alone! Always stay with someone, stuck to them. To sum it up... they didn't want you here....
You immediately ran to the crows nest and cried for a good hour. You had never felt so humiliated in your life!! Your familiars came out to comfort you and you fell asleep on them.
Zoro was asked to fetch you, He went to your room where you'd usually be, but he was met with emptiness. H serched the whole ship annoyed but finally found you in the nest sleeping comfortably. He was kinda annoyed since he was shouting for you but you gave no response, since you were sleeping, its fine.
They were going to get off on the next island to restock on supplies. You joined them but to your horror it looked like you home town.... Your home town was destroyed because Marines deemed it dangerous. So how come this town looks so much alike? You immediately got off and excused yourself, the straw hats thought you felt sick hence went to find a restroom or a secluded area to vomit, But no... You were trying to find a familiar face, any face. Since all cultivators lived in harmony, and it was a small island, you knew almost every one.
You entered the closest weapon shop and to your surprise, found the old man who used to work there, when you were in the village. You called out to him and his eyes widened. He ran and hugged you crying saying how everyone thought you were dead. You started crying saying how you thought everyone was dead, since you went back to the village and it was completely destroyed.
He told you that they escaped by faking all their deaths, so that tragedy won't happen again. You were so glad to find them. The old man ran out the shop to tell everyone you were back and alive. They all started hugging you while crying, saying how glad they were. This commotion was seen by Robin and Brook who were confused as to why these people were coddling you so much.
You told the villagers how you were saved by the Straw hats and you joined their crew. The village called for celebration to thank the Straw hats, who were surprises to find out this was your home.
Then you met him again, your childhood sweet heart, Lóng Fēi. How long had it been? you can't remember. You just ran in his arms, falling in the process. Shoving your head in his shoulder, soft sobs escaping your lips. Fēi Immediately picked you up like a baby and took you to the forest since he knows you hate being seen weak. When in the woods, he plopped you on his lap, holding you close, kissing your tears away. After you calmed down, He picked you up again and you guys went on a walk around the forest, catching up about life. Out of nowhere , Fēi asked if you would mind if he joined the crew with you. You immediately said you don't mind and he should join since Fēi was strong.
Luffy agreed without hesitation, since more the merier right....? Wrong, your atittude towards the crew changed. You no longer cuddle with Zoro while he naps, you no longer sit behind Sanji while he cooks, you no longer stay with Nami and try to read her maps in secrete, you no longer read with Robin, you no longer play or sing with Brook, no longer help Frankie, you stopped going to Chopper to talk about medicine from your home. Finally, You never again asked Luffy to sit with you on the head of the sunny. All the thing you used to do with the Straw hats, Now yo do with Fēi, Everything. it was like you changed into a completely different person.
They Straw hats were relived that you left them alone, but soon realised you weren't paying attention to them at all. They tried asking you to do stuff with them but you politely turned them down saying you don't want to bother them. Your blunt favoritism hurt them. Do you not like them anymore? Is it something they did? (kinda)
Soon they started to lose it, draging you with the to spend time like you used to but Fēi still tagged along. Can't he see?? He is not wanted!!!
If this continued they just might kill Fēi. Or Fēi would kill them. I mean if there was an accident that killed them but you and Fēi survived, no one would be suspicious....... Right?
Well lets see who survives then?
A/N: A small imagine that was on top of my head. I have another one piece fic in my mind which i'll write.
Stay Safe, Healthy And Hydrated
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piningforstan · 21 days
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I just recently found your page and love your work!!
can you write an angsty Stan fic where reader and Stan are still dancing around their feelings and reader finally gets the courage to confess to Stan but maybe overhears a conversation with him and Ford out of context saying he won’t date them and r is crushed? Then cue r trying to move on and jealous!Stan and then they get together somehow?
Thank you!!💕
I ended up placing this fic when Stan and Ford are still in high school before their falling out. I apologize if the timeline with Carla isn’t canon, I just wanted to include her. Also, reader is mentioned as a female a few times but this can easily be read as gender neutral.
I hope you like it!
You loved alcohol as much as you loved getting bamboo shoots shoved under your nail beds. But Carla “Hotpants” McCorkle had just broken up with Stan, and it was your duty as his best friend to support him. And if that meant drinking cheap beer on the beach with his brother, then so be it.
“I thought she was the one,” Stan grumbled. He crunched his empty beer can, belched, then reached for another.
You rolled your eyes. “You say that about every girl. Even that one you saw in a dream.”
You knew because you kept a detailed record of Stan’s revolving door of women, each declaration of love another stake in your heart. Secretly, you were pleased that Carla ended things with Stan. You could never date him in fear of ruining your friendship, but that didn’t mean you liked to see him with other girls. Especially not stuck-up bitches like Carla.
“I just dunno what she sees in this new guy.”
“He doesn’t litter?” Ford answered. He nudged the growing pile of discarded cans with his foot. Stan’s brother never drank, but he certainly lamented about how much the two of you did.
Stan continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “So what he can play guitar. Anyone can do that.”
“Can you?”
“No.” Stan angrily kicked up sand. “But I would learn if I thought I had a chance of winning her back.”
“You don’t need her,” you told him. The beer in you warmed you from the inside out, initiating the familiar tingling sensation in your legs that happened when you drank. “You’re Stan motherfucking Pines.”
Stan grinned at you. “You’re right. I don’t need her.” After slurping down the rest of his beer, Stan grabbed the bottom of your chair and pulled you closer. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple.
It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to — Stan happened to be very affectionate, even worse when he was drunk — but it still sent your pulse skyrocketing.
“I got the only girl I need right here,” Stan said, slinging an arm around your shoulders.
Your insides turned molten. Of course, you loved when Stan called you “his girl” but the sting of the words were especially painful in the wake of his breakup. You would never actually be his girl in the way that it mattered.
You could never jeopardize your friendship with Stan, or Ford. You had been inseparable since you were children, when Stan received a particularly nasty note about you in class and instead of passing it on promptly ate it. You took a likening to him immediately. And, since Stan was never without his brother for very long, Ford became the reasonable cornerstone of your friendship.
It wasn’t until a few years ago that you realized you saw Stan as much more of a friend. To be specific, when he successfully grew out his mullet and you fawned over it instead of throwing up in your mouth. On anyone else you might’ve. But it weirdly fit Stan, who you’d watched go from a weird, skinned-knee little boy to a weird, broad-shouldered man with dark curls that you desperately wanted to run your hands through.
Ford shattered the moment. “Why don’t you guys just date then?”
You’d both been asked the question before. It was expected, when a boy and girl were friends. Parents, nosy teachers, old ladies peering at you from wiry glasses. Usually the two of you fielded the question with various degrees of hilarity — “he gave me an STD” or “that’s my sister!” — but tonight it felt profoundly different.
Perhaps it was because you were so close, physically. Or perhaps because you had confided in Ford the secret crush you harbored on his brother. You trusted him not to tell but to hear it now, spelled out in the air, made you stiffen.
“She knows all my disgusting habits,” Stan finally said to break the silence, “I couldn’t trick her into it.”
He grinned at you in your peripheral, a certain softness in the corners of his mouth that weren’t usually there. You rallied your best grin back,
“Yeah, it would be weird. Right?” You chuckled nervously.
Stan, with unprecedented exuberance, nodded in agreement. “S’weird. I’ve seen you in your retainer. Could never fool around with you after that.”
Ouch. You pretended it didn’t feel like a blow to the stomach. “And you smoke too much. It would be like kissing an exhaust pipe.”
“See? It could never work.” Stan tore another beer off the plastic rings, drained it, then announced he was going on a walk. You watched his retreating form until you were sure that he could no longer hear you.
You whipped around. “Ford! What was that?”
“I’m sick of you two dancing around the subject. If you just dated I wouldn’t have to sit out here every few months when you inevitably get dumped because you’re with the wrong person.”
You groaned and slid down in the lawn chair, covering your face with your hands. You actually liked the smoke that clung to Stan’s clothes, the deft flick of his thumb striking up the lighter. Why did you tell him you didn’t?
You’re a coward, your inner voice accused. You panicked. It wasn’t like you could exactly agree with Ford, especially not after what Stan said about your retainer. Did he mean that?
If he did, that was worse than anything else. Not only did he not harbor a secret attraction, but he was repulsed at the idea of you together.
Stan stumbled back down the beach a few minutes later, to your chagrin. It was much easier not to think of him when he wasn’t in front of you; even like this, swaying on his feet and looking slightly green.
“Stan, are you —?”
He lurched and fell face forward into the sand.
Ford glared at you like it was your fault. “This is the last time.”
“Sure. Just get his other side.”
“Thank you again, hun.” Caryn Pines smiled sweetly at you. The small kitchen smelled profusely of her perfume and cigarette smoke, wrapping around you like an embrace.
“Yeah, of course. No big deal.”
Caryn looked at you strangely, in that way that adults did sometimes. “You’re always takin’ care of my Stanley. I know he ‘ppreciates it, even if he doesn’t say it.”
“I couldn’t leave him on the beach.” You took a bite of the babka that Stan’s Ma put out, chewing thoughtfully. “Again.”
Caryn always tried to feed you when you came over, no matter how fleeting of a visit. You had seen her sneak the food out of packages and container and pass it off as her own, but you didn’t care. It encompassed her parenting abilities — well-meaning but slightly manufactured, a desire to be the mother that she wanted to be but not exactly the drive to put in the work.
Either way, you knew she loved you like her own.
“Ya know, I see the way he looks at you. And you look at him. It doesn’t take a psychic to figure it out,” Caryn said.
Your face warmed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He’s crazy ‘bout you. I know my Stanley.”
“But what if…what if we broke-up ? I can’t lose him in my life.” Tears strained your voice. Here you were, admitting your feelings to another Pines family member except for the one who actually needed to hear it.
Caryn clicked her tongue and edged around the island, pulling you into a hug. “But what if it’s great? What if it’s everything you imagined?”
“Maybe,” you said, muffled in her side.
Caryn gave you a final squeeze. “I could only pray for someone like you for my son. Say, you don’t happen to have a sibling for Ford, do ya?”
You shook your head. Caryn made a gesture like too bad then fiddled with the coffee machine.
“Here.” Caryn shoved a steaming mug in your direction, then wiped her hands on her dress. “Take this upstairs for me, will ya? I’ve gotta check on Shermie.”
You stood rooted in place for an embarrassing amount of time, mulling over what she had said. What if it was great? Your heart jumped. Maybe she was right. You would tell Stan.
Emboldened, you crept down the hall and past the living room. The TV flickered ghostly blue lights over the couch where Filbrick snored, and you were careful to avoid the creaky stairs. It wasn’t ever said aloud but everyone knew in the house not to disturb Pa after work. He wasn’t abusive, that you could tell, but somewhere on the verge of it.
Stan and Ford’s voice drifted from their shared bedroom — Stan’s gruff, drunken mumbles and Ford’s clever quips lined with affection.
You were going to tell him. You loved him.
A hitch of agitation in Stan’s voice made you pause at the first step, just out of earshot, a silver of light falling across you from the cracked door.
The delirious, bubbly feeling of excitement in your chest fluttered uncertainly.
“Oh, would give it a rest, Sixer?”
“Stan, I just think —”
“You know how I feel about her,” Stan interrupted. From your vantage point you could see him sprawled out on his bed, one hand over his face.
Her? Meaning you?
Your grip tightened on the mug. Here it was, the universe delivering you a sign that Caryn was right. That you were right.
The view didn’t offer any insight on Ford but you could hear his desk chair squeaking as he leaned backwards, contemplative. “And how do you feel about her?”
A beat of silence, the covers rustling as Stan lifted himself onto his elbows. “She’s my best friend.”
“Uh huh.”
“And-And of course I love her.”
“Uh huh.”
“But I could never date her.”
Your blood turned cold. What? Didn’t he just say that he loved you? Whatever brief, sweet bliss you had went plummeting into the ground. You turned away, coffee in hand, unable to listen to more.
Stan stared up at the ceiling, at the water stain that looked like an elephant. Sometimes when he tried to get his feelings out, the words would run circles around and around in his head until he chased them down. It didn’t help that he had drank so much.
Towards the end it wasn’t even really about Carla anymore, but you. You, with your dumb perfect face and laugh. The way that you stuck around despite knowing everything about him, about his family, leaving him feeling raw and infested like an overturned rock.
His stomach churned. Stan waited for the nausea to pass, pinning down his words before eking out, “I would fuck things up with her. It ain’t worth it. Losin’ her. Ya know?”
God he hoped he was making sense. The room was spinning and the elephant was now doing summersaults.
“I wouldn’t let you,” Ford quietly replied. “I know you love her. I’d stop you from fucking up.”
Stan laughed, dry and brittle. “No one can stop me. I’m a one man fuck-up.”
“You’ve never been one man.”
Stan curbed his nausea enough to look at his brother. Really look at him. Any other given day and he might’ve kicked him for saying something like that. His throat bobbed. “Yeah. Yer right.”
A moment passed between them, one of those brotherly, twin moments that he hadn’t felt since they were kids. Ford clapped his hands together.
“My first declaration of not letting you fuck up is to tell her tomorrow how you feel.”
“What? Tomorrow! No way.”
Ford narrowed his eyes. Stan waved a hand and flopped back down onto the bed, resigned. “Fine, fine. Hey, can you tell that elephant to stop moving? He’s bein’ a real dick.”
After that night, you avoided the Pines family like the plague, dodging after-class visits and letting calls go to the answering machine. Your parents asked where your “boyfriend” was, as they lovingly referred to him, but it only felt like salt in the wound. Stan would never be your boyfriend. He said it himself — he could never date you.
You hated the heavy grayness that clung to you, and most importantly, you hated that the one person you wanted to talk to about Stan was…Stan. And you couldn’t. How mortifying it would be to confess something so life altering for him to say that he only saw you as a friend.
Stan left message after message, wondering what he had done and if you could. But you couldn’t bear to see him. You ate lunch in the girl’s bathroom and nearly sprinted to your car after school, peeling out of the lot as soon as the final bell rang. He tried to come by your house, too. Your parents, loyal to you no matter how much they loved Stan, told him you weren’t there.
It was safe to say that, after a month of this, they were relieved when you stepped out of your room in actual clothes. Your mother actually clutched her pearls. “You look amazing. Where are you going? Did you make up with Stanley?”
You ignored that line of inquiry. “I have a date. Not with Stan,” you added, well aware that was the follow up question.
“Oh.” Your mother’s happiness faltered slightly. “Who with?”
“Just someone from school. I’ll make sure they drop me off before curfew.” You pretended to be oblivious to their probing stares, kissing them each on the cheek before striding out the front door to the idled car in the drive.
A dark shape shot out of the driver’s seat and scrambled to open up your door. Eugene glanced nervously at your house as you climbed in. “Are you sure you don’t want me to meet your folks?”
“I’m sure,” you said, monotone.
Eugene had been interested in you for a while now, but you always hedged your answers, not wanting to commit. Last week you finally said yes. You needed to get over Stan — even though the first thing you thought of was how he would laugh at Eugene for opening your door. You could just hear his rasping, seething laugh. Pussy, he would call Eugene, and you would punch him.
Throat thickening with tears, you forced yourself to admire Eugene in the glow of the streetlights that passed by. He was classically handsome. Smart, kind. A musician. Everything that, on paper, would make the perfect boyfriend. It was incredibly sweet that he wanted to meet your parents and open your car door.
Yet all you could think about was Stan: his untamed mullet and cauliflower ears from boxing, the nose slightly too large for his face that was crooked from all the fights he instigated. The braying sound of his laugh and how he thought it was funny to snap your bra strap. The fact that, beneath the jokes and the crude humor, he was soft and compassionate and an excellent artist. He always made you laugh. He was a million things that Eugene would never be.
But Eugene was one thing Stan wasn’t.
Interested in you.
You shoved all of that down by the time Eugene pulled up to your date, flashing him your most winning smile. A drive-in movie seemed innocent enough. You were confident that Eugene wouldn’t try to make any moves, but you still directed him to park near a minivan of children.
“Want to steal some candy from them?” You asked.
Eugene’s expression shifted as if you’d suggested something morally offensive. “What? From the kids?”
“I was just teasing,” you said. You hadn’t been.
Stan would’ve happily jumped at the offer, distracting the family with one of his wild stories while you snuck a pack of candy. The two of you would then share whatever snack and giggle the rest of the movie over your cleverness.
You felt like throwing up. Why couldn’t you stop thinking about Stan?
Abruptly you shoved open the door. “I’ll just go get snacks then.”
“Wait!” Eugene’s voice was muffled, you had already shot out of the car and nearly closed the door. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I’ll pay,” Eugene said.
“It’s fine.”
You needed to get out. Needed to get away. Without waiting for any further questions, you slammed the door shut and stalked off towards the concessions. The night air was uncharacteristically cool, brushing over your flushed skin.
“Okay, calm down, you’re okay. You’re on a date with a nice guy,” you coached yourself.
“You’re on a date?”
You wheeled on your heel. Stan stood a few feet away, brow furrowed. His fur-lined jacket bulged with hidden contraband. “Stan?”
“You’re on a date?” He repeated, the timbre of his voice sinking dangerously low.
“Yes.” You raised your chin.
His jaw feathered. “I haven’t spoken to you in, like, a month. You’ve been dodgin’ my calls and avoidin’ me. What’s goin’ on? Now you’re on a date?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you bit back.
“You don’t?” Stan barked out a scathing laugh. “You just stopped talkin’ to me without any s’planation. What am I supposed to think?”
You stepped into line at concessions. “I don’t know, Stan.”
“Talk to me.” Your name on his tongue was a prayer. “Please. I can’t take this.”
A knot formed in your stomach. You ordered for you and Eugene then brushed past Stan, ignoring his protests. He followed you to Eugene’s car. You wretched open the door, intending to fling yourself inside, but Stan stopped it. He leaned down to peer at your date.
“Eugene? Really? This guy?”
Eugene sputtered. You gritted out, “Stan. Go. Away.”
Stan’s dark gaze bounced from you to Eugene, then back to you. The look on his face was unreadable. “Fine.”
The door shut with a resounding thud. It took all of your strength not to watch him walk away. You tore off the top of a box of M&M’s and shoveled the candies into your mouth.
“Was that Stan Pines? I thought you guys were, like, friends,” Eugene finally said.
“Not anymore.” The candies slid down your throat, suddenly dry and pasty.
“Oh.” Eugene pretended to fiddle with the radio, switching through stations. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Mercifully, the movie screen flickered to life and saved you from more awkward conversation. You kept putting handfuls of candy in your mouth to keep from talking or interacting with Eugene at all. Frankly, you just wanted this date to end.
Eugene respected your space, too, which only worsened your conflicting emotions of shame and regret. You wished you could apologize to him but you couldn’t form the words.
You were jerked from your self-loathing when a huge shadow played across the screen, disrupting the movie. Yells of outrage sounded from across the grassy knoll, until the dark shape on the screen split apart. The candy in your stomach threatened to come up. The profile was unmistakably Stan’s, confirming your theory when you twisted around to spot him in front of the projector, entangled with Carla McCorkle.
He grabbed her hand, smirking at the enraged onlookers, and ran off.
Carla? Again?
Eugene examined you. “Do you…want to go somewhere else?”
“Yes. Please.”
He took you to get Dairy Queen, then dropped you back off at home. The passing shadows in the window told you that your parents had anxiously been awaiting your arrival. Eugene moved to get out, to open your door again, but you laid a hand on his arm.
“I’m really sorry. About tonight,” you choked out.
Eugene smiled sadly. “It’s okay.”
You kissed his cheek and climbed out of the car, up the stairs to your house. Eugene waited until you were safely inside before pulling away.
School sucked. You were forced to see Stan with any number of girls. In fact, it seemed as if he was going out of his way to flaunt them, the lingering touches and kisses. It burned you inside.
He preferred anyone but you.
Another month passed, each day growing more and more unbearable without your best friend, without Ford, the reliable foundation of your friendship. With the end of school approaching, so was college, the awaiting jaws of a monster threatening to swallow you whole. You couldn’t even tell them that you got accepted into your dream school.
When a hand grabbed your arm, the familiar face following, you were struck with a swell of emotions. But it wasn’t Stan. The body was all wrong, the measured expression never once belonging to him but his brother. Ford’s eyes were pleading. “We need to talk.”
“Stan can’t know about this,” you said after consideration. Ford nodded.
He brought you into a deserted classroom. You lingered near the door, not sure what to say after all of this time.
“Stan is falling apart,” Ford said without preamble. “I don’t know what happened, but neither of you can continue like this.” A flicker of vulnerability crossed his features. “I can’t.”
You inhaled. It wasn’t fair to drag Ford into this, but it was hard not to. You could never make him side against Stan. “I just…I can’t do it.”
“Do what?”
You turned your face from him, ashamed. “I heard him. That night after we brought Stan home from the beach. He said…he said he could never date me.”
Ford’s face shutters closed. “Is that all you heard?”
“I didn’t need to stick around to hear about how abhorrent the thought of dating me is,” you replied, tone bitter.
Ford flipped open his messenger bag and rifled through it, muttering something that sounded a lot like “two idiots” before finding what he needed. He handed you a folded flyer. “Stan is throwing a party here this weekend.”
“And you’re telling me this because…?”
“You should go.”
You glanced at the paper. The address stated a beach not far from your usual haunt, promising alcohol and a good time. Leave it to Stan to make invitations to a party like this, complete with crude renditions of women in bikinis. You clutched the paper. “I’ll think about it.”
Ford was halfway out the door when he stopped. “He really misses you.”
The words resonated with you the rest of the day. Sometime between meeting with Ford and that weekend, you decided you would go. Eugene told you he couldn’t go, he had to study, so you informed your parents you were going out and that was that. They let you without complaint, probably because you had been moping around the house the last two months.
Tonight you donned your best dress, black and sparkling and totally inappropriate for a beach party but when you bought it, at the mall with the twins, Stan hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you. There had been no reason to wear it until now and you secretly hoped he had forgotten about it so you could shock him all over again.
By the time you arrived, sweat had gathered at the base of your neck and dampened your hair. You regretted wearing the dress upon seeing the other girls in their bikinis and hotpants, and made a beeline for the keg to soothe your nerves.
The beer was sticky and warm. You sipped it, wishing that instead of being here with people you didn’t know (or care about) you were with Stan and Ford on lawn chairs. The usual. Instead you gazed out upon the rest of the party and found Ford, trapping someone into listening to his theories most likely, and Stan presiding over a beer pong games.
Almost as if your gaze was a beacon, Stan looked up immediately as you spotted him. A cord of familiarity, of affection, tied you together and you could feel its tug behind your navel.
Stan stormed over to you, kicking up sand in his wake. “What are you doing here?”
“Ford invited me.”
“He did?” Stan searched for his brother, who had conveniently found somewhere else to be. “Why are you here?”
“I got invited, remember?”
“Where’s Eugene? Is he here, too?”
“No.” You didn’t feel like giving him an explanation, didn’t need to. You especially didn’t want to tell Stan that it was because you were still in love with him.
His dark eyes hardened. “Where is he?”
“What does it matter to you?”
Stan’s mouth moved as if he was biting back a retort, debating whether to say it. He raked a hand through his hair. He spit. “It doesn’t.”
You spent the rest of the party drifting from place to place, never lingering long. The bonfire funneled smoke into the air, as inconsistent and tangible as you, a ghost on the outskirts. You’re not sure why you came, why Ford invited, why you were still here. The beer had given you a nice buzz, a certain looseness in your limbs, and you decided that was enough. You started up the sandy dunes, shoes in hand, when you heard the sand behind you being displaced by footsteps.
Stan followed you, silhouetted by the fire in an orange haze. “What do you want?”
“I’m walking you home.”
“No. You’re not.” You marched off.
He trailed behind. You thought that he might get bored or fed up and leave you alone but he persisted. Only once you hit the sidewalk did you furiously spin around. “What do you want?”
“I ain’t lettin’ you walk home by yourself,” he replied.
“I walked here by myself. I’m fine.”
Stan took a few steps toward you. “Just let me do this, okay?”
“It’s your party, you shouldn’t leave,” you replied.
“Exactly. My party. I can do what I want.” Stan drew to his full height, shoulders back, reminding you that without his rounded posture he cut an intimidating figure. But it wasn’t intimidation he sought, but protection — protection of you.
Your back molars gritted together. “Fine.”
It actually felt nice, relieving, actually, to walk side by side with him. He maintained a step or two behind you, undoubtedly sensing your anger, but you didn’t correct him. You stayed like that, your strange, wordless dance all the way to your house. When Stan moved as if to follow you inside, what he would’ve done before, you barred him from the door.
“You shouldn’t,” you told him softly.
His brow furrowed and Stan shoved his hands in the pocket of his jacket. The porch awning cast him half in shadows. “What did I do? I know you’re punishin’ me but what I can’t figure out is why.”
“I’m not…I’m not punishing you.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.
“Then what? Is it your new boyfriend?”
“Who, Eugene?” You shook your head. “No, this isn’t because of him. And he’s not my boyfriend.”
“He’s not?”
“No.”
“What ‘bout yer date?”
“It was just one time. And it was a mistake,” you admitted.
“Tell me what’s goin’ on.”
Stan’s infuriatingly handsome features were set in determination. You wanted to go to him, bury yourself in his chest and let him envelope you. But that same feeling twisted, grew sharp teeth that latched on and refused to let go.
“Why? What do you care?” You fired back. “You’ve been so busy with your tongue down every girl’s throat that I’m surprised you even noticed I wasn’t around.”
Something shifted in Stan, a spark igniting into an inferno. “You’ve been avoidin’ me and ignorin’ my calls, refusin’ to speak to me without telling me why. I don’t get it. If you’re so against me, then why do you care what I do?”
You hissed back, “I don’t. But it’s hard to miss when you’re dry humping your flavor of the week in front of the whole school.”
“How do you think I felt when I saw you with Eugene?”
You paused, his words soaking into your skin. The fist of anger in your stomach loosened at the pain in those words, if only slightly. “I didn’t know you were going to be there, Stan. And I didn’t think it would matter even if you were. You could never date me.”
“What?” Stan’s entire body stiffened.
“You said it yourself,” you said. You were loathed to say the words aloud, which made you cry, which only made you angry to be crying. “You could never date me.”
“When did I ever say that?”
“I heard you,” you said. You explained to him how you had overheard the conversation between him and Ford that night. He listened the entire time, quiet and unmoving.
Stan rubbed a hand over his face. “You didn’t stick around to find out why?”
“Sorry if I didn’t want to hear how repulsive and horrible I was,” you snapped.
“I told Ford that I couldn’t date you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. The last few months have been hell, doll. Going without you every day has been…unbearable.” Stan brushed his knuckles over your cheek, tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Please don’t make me go through that again.”
You leaned into his touch, eyes swimming with tears. “I’m sorry, Stan. I only did it because I couldn’t stand to be around you if you didn’t feel the same way.”
“Same way?” Stan’s mouth morphed into a tired, wistful smile. “I’ve loved you since that first day in class. Since you saw them passin’ that note and instead of bein’ upset you raised your chin.”
You faltered. “You love me?”
“Of course I love you.” Such a simple, genuine statement.
“Stan, I love you too. I’m so sorry —”
“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just told you how I feel. I’m an idiot.”
You touched his arm. “No, you’re not. Well, you are, but not because of that. I was scared too. And I hurt you.”
“I’m tough.” Stan lifted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. In his face you saw a whole lifetime of memories, of laughter. “But you gotta promise me not to ignore me again. Messed me up so bad that Ford said he saw me stare at a wall for two days straight without sayin’ a word.”
“You? Not talking?”
“I know.” Stan shuddered. His composure softened a bit, examining you as if seeing you for the first time. “When I told you that you were my girl, I meant it. You’re the only girl for me.”
In way of reply, you grabbed the front of his jacket and pressed your lips to his.
You had kissed before, in middle school, just to get the first one over with. It had been brief and awkward, his front tooth clashing off yours. This kiss maintained the same level of comfort, of familiarity and safety, but charged with a current of passion. He kissed you like he had been waiting his whole life to do it again, pulling you into him in a frenzied manner.
Stan’s tongue ran over the seam of your lips, parting them so that he could slip inside, invited by your breath of surprise. You melted into him. Everything about him, this moment, felt right. Perfect. His hands in your hair and roving over the form-fitting dress you had worn for him, sighing and muttering praises on your flushed skin.
You didn’t stop until the porchlight flickered on and the front door ensnared you in its beam. Stan still held you to him, lips bruised, frozen. Your mother took one look at you entangled together on the porch and then sighed in relief.
“Well, finally.”
239 notes · View notes
rainylana · 5 months
Text
“Don’t cry.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.
requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!
warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??
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Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?
One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.
Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.
But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.
You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.
Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.
“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”
“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”
“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.
The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.
“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”
He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.
“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”
“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”
You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.
“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”
You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”
He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.
“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”
“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”
You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”
He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.
“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.
“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”
You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”
“Yes, you do.”
It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.
You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.
“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.
“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”
Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”
“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”
Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”
“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”
Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”
“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”
“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”
“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”
“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.
“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”
He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.
“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.
“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.
“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”
“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”
Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.
He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.
“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”
You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.
“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.
“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”
You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”
He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”
You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.
“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”
It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.
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inuyashaluver · 6 months
Note
Hey I absolutely adore your fics you are my favourite writer i was wondering if you could write a fic where reader has autism and there comfort person has always been there sister leah and best friend jen and nobody has figured out how to get through to them and they dont like meeting new people but thats until alessia arrives
she’s different - alessia russo
alessia russo x reader
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description: in which your sister notices a complete shift in you when a certain blondie makes their way into your heart
warnings: a little long! swearing, timelines don’t make sense but i am just a girl
a/n: hiya, lovely! thank you for all the love and request, it truly means so much to hear i’m your fav, what an absolute honour!! i hope i did this justice, please let me know if anything needs to be changed or altered, i’ll do it in a heartbeat! much love to you, gorgeous, enjoy ❤️
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you and your girlfriend, alessia, had a very special relationship. the two of you forming a bond that no one could have suspected. the people closest to you were even shocked with how much you and alessia stuck together from early on.
you were a sports photographer, and a good one at that. you’d always had love for taking photos, one of your main subjects being your sister, leah who was always more than willing to let you take photos of her while she trained, or during games.
while both of your siblings were sporty, you always resorted to academics. you were incredibly intelligent, excelling in school, your whole family was extremely proud of you.
photography started as a hobby in the side of your studies but you grew a love for it when people assured you your pictures were extremely good.
you experienced the world a little differently. from a young age, you struggled to connect to the people around you that weren’t your parents, brother or especially your sister.
you always found social situations and connections confusing, your siblings knew you inside and out so why would you need anyone else?
you often found social situations overwhelming if you weren’t with someone you knew, struggling to make friends.
the simple things that came easily to people were often a struggle to you, like maintaining eye contact or understanding body language occasionally when you were under stress.
these things were a constant anxiety and frustration for you in the beginning, feeling like something was wrong with you.
and so, when you were 13, you were taken to a specialist and were diagnosed with autism. it was from then on, the world began to make sense. the amount of love and support your family offered you helped you through the challenges of growing up diverse.
you could solace in familiarity, not really liking to step out of your comfort zone without easing into it slowly. one of the people that understood this well was leah, leah was your rock, your backbone.
she offered you stability, comfort and support even if she was just sitting next to you in silence. leah made you feel safe and understood, never really pressuring you into anything you didn’t want to.
when you were in university, you were working part time with both arsenal and england as a member of their media teams.
being apart of both media teams was comfortable for you, leah introducing them to you and being relieved when you got along with them. though this was hard to do, you were an absolute sweetheart.
they understood that sometimes you just needed to work in silence, letting you do what you did best and it really showed through your photos and videos. so much so, as soon as you graduated, they both hired you full time with a permanent position in both teams.
you absolutely loved it, having the opportunity to do what you loved and not feel judged. during the time you worked with arsenal, you were introduced to jen through your sister.
jen understood you like leah, not pressuring you and actually making an effort to understand you. you got along with all of leah’s friends but jen was the one that stuck.
though it didn’t come easily, pretty much everyone you were introduced to required some patience to see the real you. but once they did, it was worth it.
you’d met alessia through your sister of course, not offering her much more than a hello and small talk about the weather or how you wanted her to pose for campaign pictures for england.
alessia always had a special appreciation for you, she not only found you absolutely beautiful but she really appreciated how genuine you were.
from the short conversations you had together, alessia always felt a little more at ease. when she knew she was getting photographed which was often uncomfortable for her, she was relieved if you were the one taking the picture.
you thought alessia was gorgeous and it was one of the reasons you distanced yourself from her. she was close with leah so you’d talk to her if you had to, blushing without even realising.
she was also one of your favourite canvases, always listening to your instructions with a soft smile.
your sister didn’t even know you found the girl attractive, the one time she wasn’t able to read you completely. everything changed when alessia transferred from manchester united to arsenal.
you’d just moved out from living with leah into your own flat, one of the scariest things you’ve ever had to do but leah and jen, before she moved helped you through it.
when jen got her new contract, your heart absolutely broke, you’d cried in leah’s arms for days after she moved and you decided you needed a change, that’s why you moved out.
this didn’t mean you didn’t see leah all the time, you did at work but she’d always rock up to your house with snacks in hand for a movie marathon or just to sit and chat.
you often called and facetimed but nothing beat seeing her in person. leah found it cute how happy and excited you got seeing her every morning, always making her feel special.
“hi, bunny!” leah smiled brightly (a nickname she gave you after your childhood bunny toy that you absolutely loved). she pulled you into a hug and you felt yourself go limp in her arms, she lifts you off the ground and you laugh brightly.
she hugs you tightly just the way you loved it, one of your stims that she knew calmed you down easily.
“morning, lee” you giggle when she swung you side to side for a moment before placing you on the ground with a quick kiss to your forehead.
“so miss photographer, what are your plans today?” leah asks you, hands on her hips as she looked down at you.
“well, we have a new transfer i have to shoot for, photos and videos” you smile, making leah smile too knowing how much you loved your job. “oo, do you know who it is yet?” leah says excitedly, hearing rumours of a transfer but not knowing who it was.
“no, not yet” you sigh, slightly nervous knowing you had to introduce yourself to a potentially new person.
“do you need me to come with you?” leah questions, her hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “no i’m okay,” you smile appreciatively, “my little sissy is growing too fast” she coos, pinching your cheek that you quickly slapped away with a scowl.
“leah, i’m 24” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as she continued to tease you. you both chatted back and forth before you got called by your coworker, gaining a little shove from leah towards her that you sent another glare at, making your older sister send you an exaggerated air kiss.
you and your coworker discussed the basics of the shoot until you finally reached the set, seeing a blonde getting fitted in the iconic arsenal kit.
“uh, hi, i’m (y/n), i’ll be shooting with you today” you say gently as you approached the girl, not wanting to scare her, the blonde turned quickly at the sound of your voice.
“(y/n)!” your eyes widen when she turns, “alessia?” you breathe out, the girl beams at you brightly, pulling you into a quick hug that made you tense a little until a comforting smell of caramel and vanilla easily made you feel at home.
you hadn’t seen alessia in a few months, that didn’t mean your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest when the girl locked eyes with you that you were quick to divert away.
you weren’t completely comfortable with her yet, so prolonged eye contact was out of the question.
“i’m so happy to see you, how have you been?” she grins, you nod at her, “i’m good thank you, and you?” sounding a little rehearsed, and it was, alessia made you shy.
she chuckles lightly, “really good, thank you, happy to be here” her smile was infectious, you couldn’t help the little grin playing at the corners of your lips.
you both lightly conversed as you prepared for the shoot, feeling yourself feel more comfortable around her in a way that surprised you, and alessia.
when you walked alessia into the gym talking and laughing softly, leah’s eyes were wide with shock. one, seeing alessia. two, seeing you laugh with alessia. three, both of you blushing like you’d just gone for a run, which she knew you didn’t.
leah scrambled up towards the both of you, pulling you into a headlock, “see you’re finally on the right side, less?” leah grins, smiling as you struggle in her grasp.
“leah! get off man!” you groan, alessia chuckles at your struggle, her hand gently grabbing your forearm, managing to pull you out of leah’s headlock.
her hand lingered for a moment before she let go, you sent her an appreciative smile before giving leah a shove on the shoulder.
“needed a change” alessia sighed, her and leah engaging in small talk while you just observed, looking back and forth between the two blondes and they laughed along with each other.
“so, did my sister treat you well?” leah teases, her arm wounding around your shoulder, you roll your eyes at leah, alessia sends you a soft smile.
“she always does” your cheeks go a little pink at that, feeling yourself cower a little further into leah that didn’t go unnoticed.
leah looked down at you challengingly but chose to dismiss it for now, you’d had romantic partners in the past but none of them really stuck. she’d seen you all shy and blushy before but never like this.
as the days and weeks went by, alessia was able to chip away at barriers you’d carefully constructed for years. she didn’t even know she was doing it, but what she did notice was you becoming more chatty with her, actually holding eye contact a little more than you usually do.
leah was completely shocked, in a good way, of course. all she wanted for her little sister was to be happy and from the looks of it, you were getting that.
“morning, lessi” you wave at her, alessia is quick to send you the wave back as she entered the doors at the arsenal training grounds, she pulled you into a quick hug,
“morning, (y/n/n)” she giggled as she pulled away, both of you falling into conversation as you walked alongside each other, you were photographing their training session today for socials.
when you both made it outside, you let in a sharp inhale, it was colder than you thought, alessia observed as your body shook lightly from the crisp air, shaking her head lightly at how you’d only worn a thin jacket.
she was quick to shrug hers off, draping it around your shoulders without a second thought. “lessi, no” you protest, trying to push the jacket back in her hands but alessia was quick to slip your arms through it and zip it up. “lessi, yes” she chuckles,
you pout at her slightly, “now you’ll be cold, lessi,” alessia smiles at you softly, “i’ll be running around, silly, i’ll be warm in no time” her arm around your shoulder as you still continued to protest her jacket, though you had to admit, having the smell of alessia flooding your senses was comforting.
“you really are a williamson, so stubborn” she teased, you laugh at that, nudging her with your shoulder as you both giggled.
leah watched the entire interaction with a soft smile, waving at you slightly and watching as you perked up at seeing her.
you run over to leah as she hoists you up in another hug, “so you have a sister?” leah teases, “uh, yeah, you?” you say a little confused, leah laughs loudly, pinching your cheek at your cluelessness.
“i know, bunny, i’m teasing you” she grins, “you and less have gotten really close?” your cheeks go pink at that, shifting the weight between your feet as you looked down, “she’s my friend” you say shyly, “are you sure?” leah whispers, dipping her head to look at you properly.
“i-i don’t know” you say softly, your sister pulls you into another tight hug, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “it’s okay, you’ll figure it out” you nod into her shoulder, moving away to set up your camera.
throughout training, you took photos of everyone, your photos always a favourite in the media since they always felt like more than just a photo, feeling like you always captured the person rather than the action.
you were sitting outside while editing the photos before alessia pulled up next to you. “hi, pretty girl, what’re you up to?” alessia watched as you tensed for a minute, glancing over at her quickly with a nervous expression that had her heart beating rapidly.
“oh, i’m editing” you clear your throat, getting nervous when alessia scoots a little closer to you to look at your computer screen.
she noticed you were editing a photo of her, and the sidebar was almost full of her pictures. her heart fluttered at the thought of you focusing on her, swallowing before glancing at you quickly.
“you look pretty in this one” you blurt out, immediately regretting it and pinching your nose bridge out of embarrassment.
alessia’s face was burning, muttering out a thank you as you both sat quietly for a minute before you both sparked another conversation to ease the tension.
“hi, gorgeous” alessia grinned as she arrived to england camp, sending you a little wink, “hi, lessi” you smile brightly, this time pulling her into a hug by yourself. she was pleasantly surprised, hugging you tightly and feeling you melt into her embrace.
“did you get here okay?” she says softly in your ear, pulling away with a hand placed on the small of your back as she walks with you.
“yeah, i came with leah” you smile at her, making the blonde smile back at you gently, “did you get here okay?” you ask back, she nods, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “mhm, better now that you’re here” she smiles, your cheeks dusting with pink as alessia’s eyes met yours.
“lee, i think alessia broke your sister” keira grins walking behind the two of you with leah and georgia next to her. leah chuckles fondly, “i think she’s got a little crush” leah whispers, georgia and keira make eye contact and smile,
“well alessia definitely feels the same, why hasn’t anything happened yet?” georgia questions, leah shrugs before giving them a warning glare, “let my sister figure this out herself, please” the two girls huff but nod, knowing you needed a little more time to come to grasp your feelings.
alessia’s arm wounds around your waist before she had to go to her room to unpack, “you know, we should do something just us two, we're in spain after all”
you look at her confused, “don’t you want to spend time with ella? you haven’t seen her in a while” alessia chuckles affectionately, shaking her head as she looked at you.
“you’re a little clueless aren’t you?” alessia grins, your face flushing, worried you just missed out on a social cue, a potentially important one.
you recounted the entire interaction between the two of you, picking it apart to see what you missed before alessia brought you out of your head.
“(y/n)” she said, leaning a little closer to you, “when i said just us two, i meant like a date, beautiful” she smiles, you were completely silent, mouth a little agape in the hotel lobby.
you were shocked, the thought of alessia returning your feelings making you extremely nervous. due to your prolonged silence, alessia grew nervous, her grip on you loosening.
“hey, if you’re not interested, that’s completely okay” she utters, “i won’t pressure you into anything you don’t want to do” she affirms,
“no! no! i’m very interested” you stumble on your words, “ i’d love to do something with you” you say softly, feeling like your body was on fire.
you began fiddling with the ends of your clothes, alessia’s hand moving it to hold your hand instead, smiling fondly at you.
“great, i’ll text you the time and meet me down here later?” you nod as she moved a loose strand of hair off your face, kissing your cheek quickly.
“okay,” you breathe out, her hand giving you a gentle squeeze before she moved towards the elevators making sure to smile at you another time before she really walks off.
“holy shit” you say in shock, running off frantically to try and find your sister, realising she was watching from the other side of the lobby.
“leah, help me!” you gasp, leah effectively calming you down while reminding you to breathe, “hey, slowly, what happened?” leah places both hands on your shoulders,
“alessia just asked me on a date” you whisper shouted, leah gives you the biggest, cheesiest smile, it made you feel a little uneasy.
“aren’t you supposed to be all protective right now, telling me she’s not good for me or something?” you remark, only making leah laugh, both of you knowing alessia was perfect.
“bunny, she’s perfect for you” leah admits, watching you shy away from her slightly, “really?” leah nods, giving you an encouraging expression that truly made everything feel okay.
“lessi has been flirting with you for weeks now” leah chuckles when your eyes grow wide, internally cursing yourself for not noticing the signs.
leah talked you through it, making sure you were completely comfortable before you went on the date.
you went on the date with alessia and to say you fell in love with her more every couple of seconds was an understatement. alessia was so gentle and genuine with you, patient and kind.
you had this girl in a chokehold and it was very much the same with you. alessia loved that she got to learn more about you, and she wanted to for the rest of her life so to speak.
for a couple of weeks, you and alessia went on dates every other day. the two of you growing so close, it truly surprised everyone around you. she asked you to be her girlfriend about a month later and giggled at how enthusiastically you agreed.
you’d been dating for about a year and things couldn’t have been better. everyone saw a new side of both you and alessia and it was incredibly endearing to see how in love you were with each other.
“bunny, alessia’s not the only one on the team you know?” leah teased as your lens was focused on alessia with an affectionate smile. “fuck off, lee” you laugh, taking a photo of leah flipping you off with a grin.
alessia laughed at the interaction between the two of you, jogging up to stand in front of you with a bright smile.
“baby” she grinned, her hand cupping your cheek as she pressed a sweet kiss on your lips, “babe, i’m working” you giggle as alessia continued to press kisses to your lips and cheeks,
“keep working then” she chuckles, moving to stand behind you, her arms wrapped around your waist as her head rested on your shoulder.
you smile as you continue to take photos of the england girls, only lasting for a couple of seconds before leah had to physically drag alessia away from you.
“i love you both but star girl needs to train” leah mocks, flicking your forehead with her arm wrapped tightly around alessia to drag her off,
“lee, wait!” you stop her, smiling before pressing a quick kiss to alessia’s lips, your sister dry retching as alessia sent heart eyes your way.
“okay, you can take her” you say cheekily, laughing as you hear leah scolding alessia for ‘corrupting’ her sweet sister while alessia shook her head in amusement.
alessia made you laugh like no one else, alessia made you feel more comfortable as yourself like you’d never experienced.
you and alessia loved each other more than anyone. even leah was willing to be a close second to your girlfriend.
although in the beginning you left alessia at a distance, you were so grateful for her persistence in breaking down your barriers, even if it took you a while.
you both knew it was a forever kind of thing. and so did everyone else.
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alessia: always the photographer xx
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yourname: i know a pretty canvas when i see one
↳ alessia: such a flirt, baby!
↳ yourname: your fault
leahwilliamsonn: sister stealer
↳ yourname: you literally told me to go on the date
↳ leahwilliamsonn: hush, bunny, i’m talking
↳ alessia: lunch tomorrow?
↳ leahwilliamsonn: you’re paying.
↳ alessia: deal
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cupcakeinat0r · 7 months
Text
A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class.
pt.3
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Prof. O’Hara who now tutors you on certain weekdays. You two have grown close, not afraid to exchange little glances here and there throughout class. Nothing wrong with this, right? Just a wholesome friendship, something Miguel and you remind yourselves all too often…
And when he tutors you, he’ll sometimes migrate to the back of your seat while you practice formulas, and he’d rake his thick fingers through your scalp lovingly. You’d close your eyes, leaning into him, his belly acting as your pillow as he messaged your head and finger-brushed your hair. He’s speaking softly to you, going on and on about genetic variations and whatnot but you aren’t getting a single word, yet you hum ‘mhm’ occasionally just so that he feels like you’re listening.
Granted, if someone were to walk in and see you two like this, it would surely end in a mess, but truthfully, it was an innocent act. It was intimate, yes, but he didn’t think there was any harm in playing with your hair while he tutored. He just wanted to make sure his fav girl was relaxed while learning.
After he took you out to grab a snack when you broke down, you started bringing little treats with you to school so that you could leave them with him after a class or tutoring session. Claiming it was to ‘repay him for his generosity that day’ was only half of it, the other being that you had it so bad for your adorable genetics professor. You find that his guilty pleasure is sweet treats, so that’s how that started.
What you don’t know is that, really, it’s you. You’re his guilty pleasure. He gets so ruffled anytime you leave a little pastry wrapped in a cute bow on his desk. He’d look at the tiny gift as if it were a specimen, unable to do or say anything except clear his throat and fix his glasses as he blurts out a measly “t-thank you, hun.”
Miguel never knew what to do with himself with this new sweet gesture of yours (except maybe pump himself in his office just from the mere fact that you gave him something). It was silly, really. You had this serious grump flustered over pastries.
And you knew he’d surely lose his job if you made any monumental advances, and leaving him treats was the most innocent thing you could afford to do in public, so you settled for this. Besides, it’ll all contribute to his ass DadBod, so it’s a win win.
On the other hand, Miguel didn’t know for how long he’d be able to settle for this or how much longer he can play with your hair. It felt like as the days go by, you become prettier, smarter, lovelier, kinder, sexier…. It was all too much. He had an itch.
One day, the class had a quiz. You had finished earlier than everyone else, and began online shopping while you waited for the others to finish. Miguel was walking around the hall in case anyone needed help, and he noticed you were looking at a certain skirt and top.
He took a mental note of it.
You come into his office the next day for tutoring and find a pink gift bag on his desk adorned by more pink tissue paper.
“Just uh… a little something for all your hard work, mama.” He muttered, the most adorable, shy smile on his flushed face.
You were thrilled to find the skirt and top you were looking at just the day before. You instantly go to hug him, the second time you two would hug. Miguel feels a little more prepared for this one, and this time, even peppers the tiniest kiss on top of your head, your body engulfed in his fluffy arms and soft belly.
That was the first of many gifts to come, and you’d find a gift bag in every tutoring session you had with him from then on.
<3
You’d walk into class wearing the things he’d buy you, inflicting the hardest boner on him when you do. He was like a sick puppy when looking at you, sporting your new necklace, for example. He would get stuck in a dream-like state imagining how it would look dangling, swinging with each pound of his slow thrusting into your tight pussy.
It would be slow. He wanted to treasure you, savor you. An angel like you deserved princess treatment, and he’d make sure that’s what you received. He’d worship you. He’d press a trail of kisses from your sternum down to your pelvic, looking up at you through his bifocals as he does, then removing them just before he makes dinner of your cunt. You’d cum multiple times before he even thinks about fucking you with his own cock, putting your pleasure before his. He wouldn’t be able to stop blabbering about how pretty you look like this, under him. Or on top. He doesn’t care. Either way, he’d babble about how beautiful you are. How good you are for him. How much he wants, no… needs you. He’d be such a loser, but he’d be your loser. All yours.
His fantasies are shooed away, as well as his dazed smile when he sees someone approach you. A boy.
He seems to really like you. He’s a good looking boy. He was closer to your age. He was very fit. Miguel wants to be upset. He wants to be jealous, but… he technically can’t. You aren’t his. Far from it. and maybe it should stay that way. The boy would be good for you. Miguel sees you smile back at him. Sweet girl. You two would make the cute couple. You probably deserve him. Yea…
What was he thinking that he, some science professor who had let himself go, would have a chance with you, the most beautiful girl in the entire world?
A/n: sorry not sorry that I keep edging y’all, Mwheheheheheheh <3 Still, I hope u like it <3
Also, @little-lovelace , looking for this, luv??? <3
Next part (head canons)
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!!
Gna start taggin cuties, lmk if u wanna b tagged 4 next one <3
@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive
@faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi
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faeriekit · 6 months
Text
Snow Day
SO IT TURNS OUT @tourettesdog also had a far-frozen based Phic Phight prompt so here's a sister fic of Snowdrift Sanctuary from yesterday okay please and thank you
Tundra peeked around the pillar of ice. Again.
The human was still there.
…Tundra peeked left. Tundra peeked right. No one else had seen them yet.
The human, in a big coat and big boots was squatting in the snow, drawing shapes Tundra couldn’t make out with their finger.
Tundra’s tail wagged. Well. He didn’t have a very long tail, so he mostly butt-wiggled. There’d never been a human at the Far Frozen before!! Tundra had heard of humans — he’d seen depictions and heard stories, sure. But now a human was here. And they lived here.
That was so cool.
So, maybe Tundra wanted to say hi! So what? Mama had said that he should be nice to the human, since they needed help and shelter that the Chief would provide, but they were also new and interesting and they hardly ever had anyone stay with them who wasn’t a yeti ever!! Maybe they’d let Tundra play with them while they were here?
So Tundra got down on his haunches. He crawled over the snowbank, wriggling as he went, taking advantage of his coat that blended into the terrain.
The human didn’t see him at all.
Tundra bared his teeth in a play grin, eyes squinting, tongue caught between his teeth. The human was so close. He crouched down as far as he could. He waited until the human wasn’t looking.
Tundra pounced.
And then there was a flash of green burning through the air, hot and bright and loud. Tundra startled.
He landed in the snow, dazed and off-balance. He could feel a hot spot in his fur—putting his paw to it, Tundra could feel where his fur was burnt to singed ends, the tips of each hair bulbous with char.
There was a steaming hole in the snow behind him.
…Oh.
“HOLY SH—are you okay?? Did I hurt you?? I’m sorry!!” someone shouted. Someone gently turned Tundra’s head, careful not to move him too harshly or too quickly. “Is your head okay? Are you bleeding? Is—“
“…Cool.” Tundra muttered, eyes still stuck to the hole in the snow. That was so strong. Even Avalanche wasn’t that strong, and she beat everyone in the tournament last season. No wonder the chief was in charge of the human ghost, even if there were lots of adults willing to help.  
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the human apologized again, hands on their flat, pink face. Huh. Their hair was white now. When did that happen? “Usually when ghosts sneak up on me, they’re, uh… they’re not usually playing.”
Tundra looked at the human’s flat face and frowned. They got attacked? For real, and not for playing? “That’s mean. I hope you got them.”
The human made a strangled noise. Super weird! “Yeah…yeah. I did.”
“Good,” Tundra decided, back straightening straight up. The human was about as tall as he was, but humans were smaller in general. They were probably older. “If anyone attacks you now, you should get the Chief to eat them, and then they won’t attack you anymore.”
The human made another choked noise. Tundra assumed it was a laugh. He grinned back, pleased with the response, and wriggled back upright. “I’m Tundra! Mama says that you’re older than me even though we’re just as tall as each other! Are you a boy human, or a girl human? Or neither? Or both?!”
“…I’m a boy,” the human said, voice weak. Tundra peered in close at him, trying to see if he’d been injured too, but no; he looked fine, and he got his black hair back too.
“Cool,” said Tunda. “So am I. Arctic is too, but he’s big already, so he doesn’t want to play all the time. Do you like hunting?”
“I’ve…never hunted before.”
Not ever? Tundra gasped. “We can play chase, then, and then the chief can teach you how to hunt! And then we can hunt together!” Tundra scrambled to his feet, excited. “Do you want to stalk Avalanche with me?! She always throws me off, and then we can wrestle!”
The human hesitated.
“Or,” Tundra amended, because the human was still kind of small, “You can watch me stalk Avalanche, and watch us wrestle, and then I can teach you to stalk the chief so that you can wrestle with someone you know is safe.”
The human snorted, the fur cuff from his sleeve hiding his face. “I don’t know…isn’t he busy? You know, being the chief and all…””
“You’re supposed to wrestle your parents,” Tundra assured him, chest fur puffing up with pride. “I used to chew on Mama’s ears all the time when I was a cub. Now Avalanche and Arctic and everyone else can wrestle with me because they’re big enough to know how to stop playing before they squash me flat.”
The human laughed, openly and brightly, and it sounded nice.
Tundra stood so that could he could launch himself back towards the settled part of their little patch of the Infinite Realms. “Come on!!” he shouted, more than eager to play. “Last one there doesn’t get any fish eyes!”
There was a moment of silence—and then they were both rolling in the snow, the human having decided to launch into him!! This was great!! Tundra whooped, feigning bites and wriggling while the human pushed him further into the depths of the snow. The human’s grin was kind of wide and weird without a muzzle, but that wasn’t his fault, and he was having fun!! And so was Tundra!!
And the human-ghost could fly, and Tundra couldn’t, so chasing after him was super fun. They made it all the way back to the settlement in no time flat, dodging other kith and kin—
And running into Mama and Chief Advisor Pritla on accident was worth how much trouble he got into later.
Whoops!
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minus-plus-zer0 · 29 days
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Stuck Inside From the Rain
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♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up (This was supposed to be short u-u)
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You couldn't go home, not in this weather.
You had only planned to drop off a video game you borrowed from Bakugou, but the rain had hit so suddenly that there was no way you were going anywhere now.
What's worse, it was getting pretty dark out. At least Bakugou had a nice couch to sleep on...
"Oi!" Bakugou called out from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"
Bakugou had fetched some extra ingredients so he could make food for the both of you. You both sat down at his dinner table, with your grilled chicken and peppers in front of you.
"Thank you so, so much for doing this, bestie!" you said. "I think this is the first time we've eaten together in your new home."
"That's not my fault. I invited you over last week. But you were busy with Kirishima..."
You scoffed at how he chewed his food angrily. "He's just a friend, Bakugou. I actually totally forgot about that until now. Are you jealous?"
"Why would I be jealous of some guy with shitty hair?! He's got nothing on me!"
"Then don't bring him up?"
"Don't go blowing me off for Kirishima and then I won't bring him up! How about that?"
"I'll be sure to give you all the attention you want this time, okay?"
Bakugou looked frustrated, but a bit pleased. "You better."
True to your words, you ranted and raved to Bakugou about the food, as always. Bakugou knew that if there was one way to get you to focus on him, it was through his cooking. He looked cocky as you basically monologued to him about your 5-star Yelp review of his food. He offered you the rest to take home as leftovers, because unlike that traitorous rat Kirishima, he found himself to be a considerate and compassionate soul who would never let you starve.
You wanted to help with the dishes, but Bakugou wouldn't let you lift a finger to do chores. The guy was treating you like a guest he personally invited, but you felt a little bit like a burden who invaded his evening out of nowhere (even though you knew he wanted you here).
The night grew colder as it went on, and you could tell even Bakugou was starting to get affected. You attached yourself to his side to warm him up, holding onto him because you knew he hated the cold. He let himself get a little lost in that moment, which was easy to do since nobody was here except for you.
"You're such a koala," he said. "How long are you gonna steal my arm for?"
"Bakugou, if you keep complaining I'm gonna let go."
"Fine, fine! Just walk a little faster with me, I need to get something from the living room."
Bakugou wanted to watch a movie with you, but first he fetched an extra blanket, hoping to drape it over the two of you while you sat on the couch.
"You didn't get your own blanket?" you asked.
"This was all I had! Don't hog the stuff, alright?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a burden. I'm just cold..."
"You're not a burden. Just get over here so we can share it. Properly."
He drags the blanket around both of your shoulders, bringing you two hip-to-hip.
"It's like we're kids again, huh?" you laughed. "If you had extra pillows, I would've made us a pillow fort."
"I'm too big for that and you know it. It'd just fall over."
"You're no fun. Did anyone ever tell you that you act like such a grandpa?"
"You've probably told me that at least 5 times now, yeah."
You two watched a movie together, some old action flick from long ago. You rested your head on Bakugou's shoulder, and over time he ended up curling one of his arms around you. You're engrossed in the movie, you thought it wouldn't be your style but the movements are mesmerizing! However, Bakugou's glancing over at you repeatedly, gauging your reaction.
As the movie continued, the night grows even colder, and you're retreating into Bakugou's chest for any semblance of warmth. It's easy to do since his Quirk keeps his body working like an oven. Bakugou's tensing up now, stiff and janky in his movements.
You yawned for the 15th time this hour. "Bakugou... I'm sleeeeepy..."
Your heart rate slowed and your eyes felt heavy, and you almost dozed off to sleep with the sound of the rain rushing down outside. Bakugou looked distressed, knowing that you two might fall asleep together for the first time. But you didn't want him distressed, you wanted him happy, because he was your Bakugou, even if it wasn't official yet...
In your sleepy state, you gave him a tiny kiss him on the cheek and then curled up to sleep against him. You heard him swearing up a storm under his breath, and he really went through the entire curse word dictionary as if you couldn't hear him at all.
Then, he kissed you on the forehead right back.
"Night, dummy," he said, his voice very quiet.
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240 notes · View notes
turtletaubwrites · 8 months
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Sweet Abduction ~ Part 1
Thank you anon for this super cute request! I loved the idea, and I hope you enjoy the fic!
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Pairings: Charlotte Katakuri x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4084
Ao3 Link
Summary: Times are tough, and you're afraid you'll have to give up the family business, until you find people who cherish your work. Who knew making doughnuts would gain you the attention of an Emperor of the Sea, and her second son? Will your new life be as sweet as it seemed?
Rating/Warnings: SFW, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Grief, (reader's dad has passed and she thinks about him a lot), Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Kidnapping, Minor Violence (hardly anything, just being grabbed by the arms briefly), Kissing, No Smut, Human/Monster Romance, He's freaking 16 ft tall, Reader is too sweet for this world
A/N: Turns out Katakuri is over 16 ft tall. I stuck with canon, hope you don't mind! Please heed the tags! This is very sweet romance type fluff, but there is some kidnapping and shit, so be wary 😅
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Your body naturally woke you in the quiet, early morning light, but you still felt like you were in a bad dream.
After all your years of struggling to get by, of trying to make a living off the only skills you had, you still had nothing. You had kept your dad’s shop running, learning all you could, trying to honor his memory. But now that he’s gone, prepping these early mornings alone felt like losing him all over again.
Especially since hardly anyone in this town could afford to waste their berries on sweets.
Even buying ingredients for one day's batch was brutal.
I’m sorry, dad. I don’t want to sell your shop. Please, I wish you were here to tell me what to do.
You blinked back your tears as you started frying the morning's first batch of doughnuts.
Falling into your rhythm, you glazed and displayed each doughnut with care. Still taking pride in your work, you treated each pastry with love, even though they would probably be wasted. 
You gave a little yelp as the tiny bell on the shop’s door chimed.
Your mouth hung wide as you looked at the two potential customers. Shaking yourself, you greeted them, turning on your customer service charm.
‘The best way to keep a customer is to show them you really care.’
Your dad’s sweet voice filled your mind, and you smiled, genuinely hoping that these people would have a wonderful day. And that if they tried your doughnuts, it might make their day even brighter. 
The two strangers made their way to the display case, reviewing the little menu above the counter, and they asked you detailed questions that surprised you. 
You had been too busy trying to make sense of the colorful, almost outrageous way they dressed, that it took you a second to realize how excited they seemed to be here. 
They can’t be from around here. Everyone here is too poor to be that colorful.
You pinched your wrist at the sour thought, reminding yourself of your dad’s view of the world. He’d tell you to focus on the good things happening right now.
The two customers ordered four doughnuts each, and you carried their plates to the dingy little table in the corner, filling their cups with coffee.
The urge to stare was almost too powerful. It had been so long since someone new came to enjoy your work. 
They smacked their lips, and licked their fingers, and their bright eyes warmed your heart. 
‘There’s nothing better than watching someone enjoy the work you put your heart into.’ 
You cleared your throat, turning away from them as you wiped away a tear at your dad’s words in your mind.
“Ooh, Mama’s gonna enjoy this,” the taller one hissed in a mock whisper.
“Excuse me,” the other patron called, waving you over. 
You wiped flour off your hands, grabbing the pot of coffee. You felt their eyes on you, feeling examined as you refilled their cups.
“Is there anythi–”
“How would you like a sponsorship to open a shop in the sweetest capital of the world?”
“... I’m sorry. What did you–”
The tall one grabbed your wrist, eyes almost manic as he leaned toward you.
“We’re scouts, you see. We’re from Totto Land, and we’ve been looking for someone with your talents. Everything will be taken care of. We already have a doughnut shop that's just waiting for an artist like you.”
Your eyes were so wide it was almost painful, and part of you told you to run from these strangers. 
‘Don’t fight miracles, sweetheart. Sometimes good people really do get good things.’
“Okay,” you stuttered, following your dad’s advice one more time. 
You had heard the name Big Mom before, seen her wanted poster. She didn’t seem like a real person when you were struggling in your run down town. 
And you thought that Emperors of the Sea were meant to be terrifying, almost demonic. 
But here you were on her archipelago, her myriad of islands filled with so many happy people. So many people who love what you do.
It's surreal! 
You’d been given a doughnut shop on Komugi Island, along with a beautiful apartment above the shop. You wanted to explore and meet people, but you couldn’t think of closing the shop for even a day. 
All the ingredients you could dream of, equipment that you’d never seen before, and a dining area inside and outside with plenty of tables so you could enjoy the happy noises people made when they ate your doughnuts and pastries. 
It was heaven. It felt like your dad was there with you, kneading the dough, pouring the coffee. You could almost hear his laugh, his silly songs that he used to hum.
It felt like home.
After a few days, you noticed that the shop cleared out a little before lunchtime. You had been having a steady stream of customers all day since the day you opened, but now it was empty. You tried to remind yourself that things wouldn’t always be that busy, and that it didn’t mean anything.
I guess I’m just worried, dad. I want to do well here. I want to stay.
You had a pile of plates in one hand as you wiped down a table outside.
“Good afternoon,” boomed a deep voice from above, and your ankle shifted against the stone tiles.
You were slipping, trying and failing to keep a grip on the porcelain plates.
Then a huge, warm hand held you steady, and your mouth gaped at the sight of another gloved hand catching the plates before they fell.
“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, heart racing.
Shifting away to look at your new patron, you steadied yourself, pressing your palm against the warmth beside you.
Your breath hitched as your hand touched firm leather. You stumbled back a step, and he grabbed your shoulder to steady you, before setting the dishes on the table, and towering over you.
“I apologize. I should have waited until you set down the plates.”
The deep, measured voice made you shiver as you looked up at the man it belonged to. 
He was so tall. Insanely tall.
Is he a giant?
He sat down beside the shop on what you just now realized was a bench, made for someone his size.
Realizing how rude you were being, you cleared your throat, giving him a smile.
“No need to apologize. Thank you so much for saving my plates!”
You dipped your head, letting your eyes go wide as you looked at the ground after getting a better look at him. 
He had deep crimson hair, with eyes to match. Those intense eyes were framed with arched brows, and eyelashes so dark and thick that you could see them from where you were.
You brought your head back up to meet those eyes, and you bobbed on your toes as you tried not to gape at the rest of him. 
You’d never seen anyone like him before. He wore a layered scarf that draped around his shoulders, covering his neck, and the lower half of his face. 
Below the scarf was an expanse of muscle, pink tattoos accentuating his chiseled abs. His leather vest covered nothing, but it matched the leather across the rest of his body, belts, straps, and spikes giving you so much to look at.
Then you looked back at his eyes, and realized you’d been staring.
“I–I am so sorry. I’m new here, and my head is a little off still. Would you like me to bring you a menu?”
He hardly spoke while he was there, but his gaze felt heavy and warm. Thankfully, no one else came by to witness you making a fool out of yourself. 
He made a huge order, and you packed three large boxes to the brim.
Your dad would have been so happy in that moment. You could picture his smile. Practically hear his voice.
‘Look, sweetheart. Your love is gonna touch all those people that eat your sweets. Isn’t that just lovely?’
“Are you afraid?”
“What,” you choked out, quickly brushing a tear from your eye as you thought of your father.
He’d taken the boxes from you after paying, but now his brows were furrowed as he looked down at you.
“Oh my– oh no! I’m sorry,” you panicked, realizing what he meant.
“I wasn’t crying because of– I was just thinking about my dad. He would have been really happy with your order. You picked all his favorites!”
He stiffened, one of his gloved hands flexing on his knee.
Clearing his throat, he stood, his height leaving you speechless again. 
“Thank you, miss. Have a pleasant day.”
“... Th-Thank you! Please, come again soon!”
You were waving at his back, and he froze for a moment at your words. But he kept walking, finally leaving your sight. 
Slumping into one of the chairs, you felt the blood rushing through your body, your head feeling fuzzy after all of that. 
Then a line of customers started trickling back in, and you poured yourself into work. 
What an interesting place this is. 
~
He came back again. And again. And you always forgot to ask for his name. 
He never said much. He always ordered at least three boxes. And you always spaced out as you stared at him at least once before he left. 
Luckily he always seemed to come during a slow hour, catching you cleaning with no other customers to attend to.
You wanted to ask if he liked them. If he liked your dad’s favorite recipes. It seemed like a silly question, since he ordered so many every time.
But you liked his voice, and you thought it would sound really nice if he said it. 
You caught yourself grinning in the mirror at the thought as you got ready for the day.
I think I like it here.
“Good morning, miss Y/N!”
You had just stepped downstairs, morning light still not quite touching the world, but your shop was full of people.
“I… I’m sorry. The shop’s not open yet. But I’m happy to share my pot of coffee with you if you’re willing to wait on the doughnuts!”
You felt extra grateful that you’d dressed for the day before coming downstairs.
“Thank you dear, but you’ll be coming with us.”
A tall, thin woman moved toward you, a rough scar bisecting her face, and you clenched your fist to stop yourself from recoiling. It was too damn early for someone who looked like a gnarled old witch to break in and threaten you.
Is she threatening me?
“Sorry, uh,” you said awkwardly as you moved behind the counter. “I’ve got a lot of doughnuts to get started for the day.”
“Not today, sweetie,” the witch-like woman said, her reddish nose bobbing as she shook her head.
“I don’t– Did I do something wrong?”
You shrank back against the wall as guards moved against you, gripping your arms.
“Not at all,” the woman nearly shrieked, failing to sound comforting. “In fact, you are being granted the highest of honors. You are about to become part of Big Mom’s family!”
You had been squirming only slightly, not really fighting against the men holding and moving you. But now you slumped, confusion hurting your brain too much to keep steady.
“What do you mean? What’s happening,” you asked, panic building in your throat the closer they got you to the door. 
“You have been chosen to wed the shining star of the Charlotte family. Our strongest warrior, a man whose back has never touched the ground. My perfect big brother, Charlotte Katakuri!”
Your mouth hung open as she continued, her voice manic, louder with each word. She may as well have been speaking another language. 
She pointed a long, twig-like arm at you, and you tried to clear your head to understand.
“You can call me Brulee, sister in law. Tomorrow you will become Charlotte Y/N.” 
You stood, frozen and dizzy.
“Come now, lots to do, sister,” she tutted, snapping her fingers.
“But why? Why me?”
She reared on you, her red nose inches from yours.
“You’re special, of course. You were chosen. And you’d better learn not to question Mama.”
“Please,” you pleaded, twisting against the guard's hold. “I don’t–”
“Don’t question mama! And don’t even think about refusing her.”
The guards tightened their grip, leading you toward the door.
“Wait!”
“Don’t res—”
“Please change the sign! Please let my customers know I’ll be gone, I don’t want them to wait out there for me.”
Brulee frowned at you, but had one of the guards write a note, hanging it on the door.
“Thank you,” you sighed with relief, giving her a grateful smile.
She frowned again.
You didn’t resist, and the guards let you walk freely. You felt the stares of citizens on you, and watched a group of onlookers waving as the ship departed for the main island. 
Whole Cake Island. 
It was incredible. The sounds, the colors, the smells! Excited locals rushing around, as if preparing for something big. 
Like a wedding.
Brulee spent the travel time regaling you with stories of her brother. 
The second son of the Big Mom Pirates. One of the Three Sweet Commanders. The Minister of Flour who governs over your new home, Komugi Island.
“When he was born he stood straight up, and slept on a chair. His back has never touched the ground. He’s never laid down, and never been knocked down either.”
“That sounds tiring,” you muttered under your breath, but she turned, grasping your wrist.
“Not to my brother. He’s more than strong. He’s superhuman. He’s noble, and cool-headed. And you are going to be the perfect wife for my perfect brother. Got it?”
“I-I got it.”
She released your arm, and you tried to fight your nerves, but you couldn’t stop shaking. 
You were led through a massive castle that looked like, or was it a cake? The ceilings were so massive, you had to crane your neck to see them.
Brulee left the guards outside, leading you into a gorgeous bedroom, with an extravagant bathroom, and at least ten servants carrying all sorts of fabrics, powders, shoes, and more. 
You felt like you were in a whirlwind, just staying still and letting these strangers touch you, pamper you, fit the white dress to your body.
Now and then you’d pay attention to what they were saying between their giggles and demands. 
“She’s so lucky.” 
“I wish I could join the family.”
“I wonder if his children will be as perfect as he is?”
Finally, you were freed from their hands. Dinner was brought to your guarded room, and you watched the night fall.
You curled up in the luxurious bed, and sobbed silently. You caught yourself whispering under the blankets, eyes burning as you tried to make sense of it all.
“Dad, I’m sorry. I’m trying to see the good here. But I’m scared. I love this place. I love making people smile. But what if this man… What if my husband is a bad person? What if he’s mean? What if he doesn’t like me?”
Visions of terror filled your mind. If they could kidnap you for this, could they really be good people? This land seems so happy and prosperous, could this marriage be a good thing?
“Is this a miracle, dad? Should I let it happen, and hope for the best?” 
“Will they kill me if I try to run?” 
“I’m scared, dad. I wish you were here.”
Finally, your quiet sobs fell into slow breaths as sleep pulled you under.
Morning arrived, and the servants were buzzing with excitement as they prepared you for the wedding. You felt empty, hollow. They kept pinching your cheeks lightly, trying to wake you up, to convince you to be happy.
All you could manage was a weak smile as you looked at your reflection.
“You look beautiful, sister,” Brulee praised, patting your hand. “It’s almost time.”
She led you to a massive stone room, guiding you to a small bench before leaning over you. 
“Just wait here. It won't be long.”
She left, and you didn't turn to watch her go. You thought about running. There were no guards in this chamber. 
You bit your lip to keep from crying, afraid of what might happen to you if you ruined your makeup.
“Y/N…”
A choked gasp left your throat as you turned, looking for the owner of that deep voice.
Your favorite customer was there, his height looking almost normal in this massive room. He sat along the wall on a giant bench, leaning toward you.
“Oh, hello,” you practically squeaked, throat caught with unshed tears. “What are you doing here? I’m sorry I couldn’t make your order today!”
“Please,” he stopped you, holding out his gloved hands. You blinked at him, noticing that his normally black attire was white, somehow making his hair and tattoos stand out even more.
“What are you…”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have let this happen.” 
“Let what happen,” you asked, your mind moving so fast it felt like it was tripping over itself. You stood without meaning to, walking closer.
“You were brought to my island as a gift. For me.”
His dark eyes poured over you as you stood, silently waiting.
“I shouldn’t have told mama that I liked you. I tried to convince her to stop, but there’s no way to stop this without violence now. And I cannot hurt my family.”
Violence? 
Your heart beat in your chest like a bird, wings flapping desperately to escape a cage. 
“Mama is a decisive woman. When she makes her mind up on something, it will happen. I am usually the one to make it happen. Most of my siblings have their marriages arranged. I didn't…”
Regret tinged his voice, and you met his eyes.
“Why me?”
He looked away, sighing as he leaned back against the wall.
“My siblings brought you to my island because they thought I would enjoy your doughnuts. I happened to mention how much I’ve enjoyed your work, and your… company. So Mama has decided that you’ll be joining the family. That you and I will marry. In less than an hour.”
You’d never heard him say so many words at once, and his voice rolled over you while you tried to comprehend everything. Your mouth hung open as you stared at him.
“You must be frightened.”
He shifted on the bench, looking almost uncomfortable before he caught himself. He adjusted the movement, making it look deliberate. But you noticed.
He’s just a person.
“I think having a first date might have been nice,” you teased with a small smile. 
He stared down at you for a long moment, before his brows furrowed.
“You shouldn’t have to marry a monster.” 
“What do you mean,” you questioned, starting to feel lightheaded from everything.
“When we kiss, it will be over…”
“We’ll be married?” 
“No.”
You hadn’t thought his eyes could get any more intense, but they sure did. You stood, still as a statue, waiting for him to explain. 
“There’s something I have to show you.” 
Katakuri unraveled his scarf, slowly revealing the lower half of his face.
Your eyes went wide at the sight of his large mouth, scars stretching from ear to ear. Sharp teeth or fangs jutted out at the edges of his lips. 
Your first thought was that he did look like a monster.
‘You can’t tell somebody’s heart from the outside, sweetheart. Always give people a chance.’
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, after you stood there too long, thinking of your dad’s voice.
You watched those huge hands start to drape the scarf, looking away from you as he covered his scars.
“Wait,” you commanded, voice almost too loud in the echoing room. You reached up to put your hand on his knee, shoving aside a brief thought about how things would work with his height.
“Will you be kind to me?” 
He paused his movements, face still uncovered. Your whole body rolled with warm shivers as he laid his hand on yours.
“I will be kind to you. And I will protect you.” 
“And you’ll tell me how much you like my doughnuts?”
An almost surprised huff left him, and you were pleasantly shocked to see his wide lips twitch up, a hint of a smile there. 
“I love your doughnuts. They make me very happy.” 
Your toes curled in your shoes as you grinned up at him
“Okay,” you nodded, dread shifting to excitement. “I guess we’re getting married then? Please, promise to be kind.” 
“I promise,” he agreed, head tilted as he looked at you, before wrapping his scarf back around. 
You were practically bouncing on your feet now, and your words came out high and fast.
“So, your name is Katakuri?”
“Yes.”
“Is it true you never lie on your back?”
“We’ll learn a lot of interesting things about each other later,” he promised, voice low as he patted you on the head.
“Right now we have somewhere to be.”
There were so many people. So much food, so many sweets. 
Big Mom was enormous, even taller than Katakuri. All of her children looked so different, so interesting. 
Everyone seemed happy.
I’ll choose to be happy too, dad. I just wish you were here with me.
The ceremony and vows flew by, and luckily you remembered what to say. Then the end arrived, and you realized that you didn’t know what to do.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may start your marriage with a kiss!”
How am I supposed to kiss him?
Your question was answered as his large hand scooped down beside you. Looking into his face, you could have sworn he was smiling by the slight crinkling of his eyes.
A giggle left your lips as you nodded, and you gasped as he grabbed you gently around the waist, lifting you up.
You heard the cheers of his family as he turned away from the crowd, keeping his face from their sight.
“I am sorry, Y/N.”
His whisper made your heart ache for this strange man. He seemed so lonely, even with all of his family looking up to him. 
Maybe neither of us have to be lonely anymore.
You touched a hand to his cheekbone, and he seemed to freeze.
“Don’t be sorry, Katakuri. Let’s just be good to each other.”
You felt a hum move through him before he carefully pulled his scarf down, just enough, just for you.
He’s so big!
That thought hit you again, but you’d already decided. You were already his. You leaned forward, and kissed him between the sharp fangs at the edges of his mouth.
His lips were warm, and soft, and sweet.
You let out a hum of contentment, wiggling slightly in his grasp. He pulled back, covering his face, then he stared at you. 
“Hi,” you said softly, feeling your skin flush as you felt suddenly shy.
“Oh mama, mama,” Big Mom laughed, making him turn to face the party.
“My family is getting bigger and bigger! What a wonderful day. Let’s start with the cake!”
~
Katakuri didn’t join in on the fun, sitting on the edge as if keeping watch over his own wedding. Everytime you tried to talk to him, new in-laws would drag you away, light conversations and laughter hogging the day. 
Finally, you were ushered away, waving back at the crowd as your husband joined you. 
Instead of a carriage, you were carried away from your wedding on Katakuri’s shoulder, adjusting the scarf so that it would stay in place. 
A procession of onlookers applauded, calling his name. You even heard your own name once or twice. It felt like the entire island was cheering for you, and you were caught in the chaos of a world you never could have imagined. 
Your mind started racing as the wedding was over, the real world starting to return. A million questions tore through you, and you didn’t know where to start, until one came tumbling out.
“How are we going to sleep if you never lay on your back?”
He let out a sound that could have been a laugh as he kept moving toward your new home. 
“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll show you.”
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Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: Once again, I'm so happy to take requests! I probably wouldn't have thought to write for this big guy, but now I love this lil doughnut man. He's so sweet 😭😭 (Let me know if I should write the honeymoon... 😳)
Tag List: @shewrites02
Part 2
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golden-cherry · 1 year
Text
deal - cl16 (11/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The dinner is in full swing. And friends sharing a dessert is pretty normal - right?
Warnings: FLIRTING, PINING (you've been warned!), Charles is sweet, a bit of angst (at the end, beware)
Word Count: 3.5k
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A/N: if my story is tooooo slow burn, feel free to tell me! feedback is appreciated! love ya.
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According to Google, cold water on the wrists helps against heat, because the blood circulating in the body is cooled there quickly and thus the body temperature should drop. 
So why the hell are you getting hotter?
About five minutes ago, you fled the table after Charles sat down next to you and your brain stopped working and before you could sweat through your clothes. Charles had looked at you with a concerned look after he made room for you to get up from the bench, but you had just smiled at him kindly and once the table was out of sight you were able to take a decent breath. 
About four minutes ago you were frantically googling for a way to get rid of the heat Charles was causing inside you, and since you don't have lukewarm showers here at the restaurant, nor do you have any essential oils with you, the only solution was cold water on your wrists. 
And for about three minutes you've been standing here, letting water run over your skin, and as long as you don't have to think about Charles and his touch, your body seems to cool down as well. But how could you not think about him when he is all your thoughts revolve around?
How silky his hair must be? Or how soft his skin? Or how gentle his touch? 
You lean your forehead against the cold tiles on the wall, though you would have preferred to bang your head against them. 
You can't think that way about Charles. About your roommate. Your friend. And especially not after two days together. You two don't even really know each other. So why can't your thoughts stop spinning around him?
Before you can actually bang your skull against the wall, the door to the ladies' room opens. 
"Are you okay?" asks Kika, leaning against the wall opposite you. She glances at your hands, which you're still holding under running water, and then looks at you with raised brows. 
You clear your throat before turning off the water and reaching for a paper towel to dry yourself off. "I'm fine."
Your new friend reaches out her hand, and you hand her the paper so she can toss it into the trash can beside her. "You can talk to me, Y/N. You know that, right? There is nothing you confide in me that I would ever tell anyone." When you raise an eyebrow, she nods slightly. "Not even Pierre."
You lick your tongue over your teeth once. "I appreciate that. Thank you."
Kika smiles. "I mean it. You can call any time of the day or night. I promise I'll always be there for you. Even if we've only known each other for a short time."
"I'll keep that in mind." You move toward the door. "But then don't complain if I really do call in the middle of the night and wake you up."
She pushes off the wall and puts an arm around your shoulder. "As long as you don't make me get up at six in the morning, this is going to be a super friendship." She gives you a quick squeeze before dropping her arm. "You ready?"
Together, you walk back to the table, where the guys have their noses stuck in the menus. Charles is still sitting in the seat next to yours, a fresh beer in front of him, and as you girls approach the table, he looks up. His look is more unsettled than concerned as he gets up so you two can sit down again. This time, however, he leaves some space between you, for which you are very grateful. 
"Is everything okay?" he asks quietly, so that only you can understand him. 
You nod. "Everything's fine." Seeing that he doesn't believe you, you come clean. Well, part of the truth. "I was just a little warm. It's okay, I promise."
He seems to buy that a little bit more, because he slides the menu on the table so you can both look at it. "We were going to order dessert before we leave. Would you like some?"
You take a look at the map and have to concentrate on every single letter so that you can ignore Charles' gaze on you. But that's easier said than done, because out of the corner of your eye you can see how his gaze drifts from your eyes, over your nose and further down, before he licks his lips and also turns back to the card. 
You think you read something about tiramisu somewhere on the menu, which is why you suggest just that. When you find it, you put your finger on the card. "This." Your finger follows the letters and finally gets stuck on the price, which is pretty high for a dessert. You draw air through your teeth. "Or maybe not."
Charles leans back and runs a hand through his hair once. "The tiramisu is actually meant for two people." He points to the heading above some of the dessert offerings. "Look. Dessert pour deux."
And indeed. The dessert menu is divided into individual servings of ice cream, panna cotta and chocolate souflée, and desserts for two like a moist slice of chocolate cake and dumplings filled with pureed fruit. And tiramisu. 
"Then I'll have something else," you answer him, but before you can say anything, Charles leans forward. 
"If you want, we can share the tiramisu." His voice is low, but deep. 
You don't even dare look at his face, because then you'd have to disappear right back to the bathroom to cool off. How can the suggestion of sharing a dessert sound so seductive? And why doesn't your heart realize that it doesn't have to beat so fast because of it? After all, friends can share dessert without ulterior motives. Or longing. Or anything else. 
You smile at him. "I'd love to.""
When the waitress comes back to the table to take orders, Charles orders the tiramisu with two spoons. As she disappears, he turns back to you. 
"So, what do you think of my friends?" he asks, taking a sip of his beer, which you only now see is non-alcoholic. 
"They're all pretty awful. Hardly bearable," you answer him. He almost chokes on his drink as he lets out a snort. "How can you be friends with them?"
He puts the bottle back on the table. "Good question. They were just there at some point and I guess I missed the time when I could have gotten rid of them. I guess it's just too late now."
"If you want to get rid of us," Kika straddles the conversation, "all you have to do is say so." She scoots closer to you and reaches for your hand to intertwine your fingers. "But you do realize that we're definitely keeping Y/N."
"Ouch." Charles spins on the bench and puts his knee on the cushion, mere inches from your thigh. "So you already like her better than me?" His gaze shifts to you. "Nothing against you, of course. You know how much I like you."
You don't have a second to think about his words before Kika pulls you against her so that your back is against her front. "But of course! We're both going to be best friends eventually! Besides, you can't tell me she didn't immediately captivate you too with her beautiful smile and charm."
You lightly slap Kika's forearm and try to squirm out of her embrace, but she won't let go. Which is why you can only look straight ahead, directly at Charles, whose gaze is gentle and loving. Dimples bore into his cheeks as he smiles. "She did."
Kika lets go of you and you turn to her briefly, giving her an evil look that's meant to express "What was that all about?" as several waiters come to the table and place various plates and bowls with all variations of desserts in front of you. Charles puts a spoon down for you and places the plate with the huge piece of tiramisu between you so that you can both eat from it comfortably.
He smiles at you and points his own spoon at the dessert. "Ladies first."
Gratefully, you smile at him before using the spoon to cut off a piece and shove it into your mouth. On your tongue, the tiramisu seems to explode and your eyes roll back and you can muster just enough strength to keep from moaning out in pleasure. In all your life, you've never eaten dessert so delicious. 
"That good?" asks Charles, who also slips a piece between his lips. A bit of cream sticks to the corner of his mouth and as he licks it away with his tongue, you have to swallow. 
"It's perfect," you reply, taking another bite so you don't have to look at Charles. 
"Don't be in such a hurry," Charles says, pressing his spoon down on yours as you go to take a third piece so you can't move it. "I thought we were sharing the tiramisu."
You jiggle your spoon a little to pull it out from under his, then point it at him. "You're already using my brush. I think I should get a bigger piece of this." You're about to dig the spoon back into the dessert when Charles pulls the plate away. "Hey!"
"So that's how we play, huh?" You can't even react as quickly as he's shoveling in the tiramisu. One bite after another, he pops it into his mouth before you can lean over and grab the plate to pull it away. As he goes to take another piece, you swat his spoon away with yours. 
"You've already eaten half!" you scold him affectionately. "Leave some for me, too, you glutton!"
"First come, first served," he responds, already holding out his spoon, but you grab the plate and turn your back to Charles so he'd have to reach around you to get to dessert. That way you would still be able to take a few bites in peace without having to fight for it, because for sure Charles wouldn't come that close to you for dessert. 
You feel the heat even before you can follow through with your plan. 
Charles moves close to you so he can snake his arm around you. His chest presses against your back as he leans in to look over your shoulder, so he can just find the tiramisu he's so desperate for. His hot breath is on your ear, on your neck, and you're glad there's a sweater and blouse between you, because if you were touching - really touching - you'd have a heart attack, you're sure of it. 
"Come on, just a little bit more," he breathes. 
Your body freezes and you tear your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost. Your grip on the plate tightens, your fingers almost clench around the china, and Charles's scent in your nose fogs your brain. 
Why does Charles have such an effect on you?
"Stop it," Kika intervenes, taking the plate from your hand. "You're arguing like an old married couple." 
"We're not," counters Charles, who now also snakes his second arm around you to get at the plate Kika has placed in front of him. But it's a little too short, so he slides a little closer to you. "If we were fighting properly, this would definitely end differently." His fingers get a grip on the edge of the plate, and you're too frozen to do anything about it. He moves away from you, moving back to his seat and shoving two more bites between his jaws before pushing the rest in your direction. "I'm willing to share with you."
Kika nudges you, bringing you out of your stupor. You turn to face him. "And what do you want in return?"
Charles smiles at you. "Just your friendship."
You return his smile, not even noticing the slight twinge in your chest. "Deal."
"This is where deals are made?" asks Lando as he sits down in the empty seat in front of you - Charles' old seat. "How much money are we talking about?"
"It's not about money," Charles replies, his tone sounding somehow cold, very different from just a few moments ago. 
You nod in agreement. "It's about something much more important." You point to the last bite of tiramisu in front of you, "It's about tiramisu."
Lando's gaze moves from your face to the dessert, then back to you. "That's actually very important. I know a pâtisserie in Nice that serves the best tiramisu in the whole world. Maybe we can go there together sometime?"
Before you can answer, the waitress comes to the table with the bill. As you are about to pay, Charles gives you a scowl. "I invited you, so I'm paying for you."
You roll your eyes. "You don't have to pay for me."
"I'd like to, though. I owe you that, as badly as I treated you today."
Since you can't argue with him on that, you let it happen and when all the bills are paid, the small group stands outside the restaurant. The wind has gotten even colder and inside you are scolding yourself for not taking a thick jacket. You blame it on Charles and his mood swings. 
As you wrap your arms around yourself to get a little warmer, Charles hands you his jacket. "My sweater is thick. And I don't get cold easily."
Hesitantly, you slip the jacket on and are immediately enveloped by his scent. The fabric is heavy but feels comfortable on you and you have to suppress the urge to smell it. You feel warm and would like to snuggle into the jacket. You stifle a yawn and smile at him. "Thanks."
"So," Pierre props an arm on Kika's shoulder. "What club do we want to go to now?"
"The Jimmy'z is about to open," Lando suggests, looking at his wristwatch. "Or La Rascasse. There's supposed to be a cool DJ there today."
The clubs tell you something, but from stories you know how expensive the drinks are there. And since you don't want Charles to pay for you all night and you can't afford Monaco's nightlife, your evening is declared over, for better or worse. 
Kika raises her hands. "I'm afraid I have to get up early tomorrow, which is why it's time for me to go to bed."
You're glad she's the first to get out. "I'm pretty tired. So I'm not in either," you fib, curling your lips into a thin, apologetic smile. 
Charles head jerks in your direction. "Shall we go home then?" he offers. 
"It's fine, you go party," you reply, moving a little closer to him. "Your day has been pretty lousy. So go get drunk with your friends. But call if you want to be picked up. Then I'll come get you."
"Are you sure?" he asks, unsure. "I don't have to go with the others either."
You wave it off. "I'm sure." 
"Do you still want me to walk you to the car?" He hands you the car keys. "It's around the corner."
"I'll be fine, Charles," you smile, "I'm a big girl."
"I didn't doubt that," he assures you, but still seems undecided about whether to drive home with you or go with his friends. "Would you really be okay with me going?"
"If you ask me again, I'll punch you."
Charles smiles. "Will you let me know when you get home?"
"I will."
Charles seems satisfied with your answers, so he gives the boys a thumbs up. "Can I get a ride with you, Pierre?" When the latter nods, he turns to you. His smile is affectionate and gentle. "I'll see you at home."
The sentence sends warmth coursing through your body. "I'll see you at home."
Lando stands next to you, "My car is also around the corner. We can just walk the bit together," he offers and you nod gratefully before Kika wraps her arms around you. 
"Well, you have my number. You can get in touch if you like," she says, giving you a hug. "And if you don't, I'll be very mad at you." Her grin is wide and she pokes you in the side before returning to the other boys. "Don't be a stranger!"
"Don't worry, I won't," you reply, nodding goodbye to Pierre and Max before your gaze drifts to Charles. You raise your hand and wave at him, which he returns. Then you turn and start walking. Lando walks alongside you. 
"So, how about that tiramisu in Nice?" he asks, his hands buried in his pockets. 
You laugh out loud. "You're not letting up, are you?"
He shakes his head and grins. "No way. Unless you want me to, in which case I'd let it go, of course. I'm not a stalker, after all." He looks down at you. 
"Well, it wasn't on my shopping list," you retort, collecting a slight nudge in return. "What? It was meant to be nice!"
"You better believe it." 
You both turn the corner and your Renault enters your field of vision. "I've never been to Nice before. So for all I care, we can go there." 
"Great." He takes a deep breath. "Then wouldn't it be better if I had your phone number? Then we could set up a day to go there."
You raise an eyebrow. "You already have my Instagram, isn't that enough? Not that you'll actually turn into a stalker," you joke.
"Okay, wow." He grins. "If you don't want to, of course I can understand. After all, we've only known each other since today."
"It's all good, Lando. Don't worry about it," you reassure him, telling him your number so he can type it into his cell phone. Then he calls you so you have his number as well. 
"Thanks."
"No problem."
You come to a stop in front of your car, Lando looking at you confused. "Is this your car?" When you nod, he looks like a light's gone on. "I thought you guys came in the Ferrari. Had me wondering why he'd let someone else drive his Pista."
You try not to let the confusion show. "Um, no. We took mine." You unlock the car and open the door. "Thank you for a lovely evening and for walking me to my car."
He glances sideways for a moment. His jawline is so sharp it could certainly cut paper. "You're welcome." He wraps his arms around you and squeezes. "And about Nice, I'll text you." He breaks away from you and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "Get home safe, okay?"
"I'll do my best," you smile and get in the car. As you drive off, you see Lando waving in your rearview mirror. 
You can't help but think of his statement. Charles has a Ferrari? Those cars must cost hundreds of thousands of euros. How can he afford such a thing? Do people in the car business really earn so much that they can just buy a Ferrari?
And why does he insist on driving your rickety old Renault when he apparently has a super car at his disposal? Is he hiding something from you? And if so, then what is it?
Suddenly you realize how little you actually know about him. But surely he will have reasons for not telling you - right? You decide not to push him to tell you about his car or his job, but to wait for him to tell you on his own. Friends don't push each other to do that. And you are patient enough to wait for him. 
Before you can think about it further, you turn onto the street where your apartment is and immediately slam on the brakes. 
Across the street, directly across from your apartment, is a green Nissan with a license plate you are very familiar with. Your hands start to sweat. What does he want here? How long has he been waiting for you? There doesn't seem to be anyone in the car. So where is he? 
You turn a little on the seat to get a better view of the street, but it is deserted. Not a soul is on the road, you are all alone. And for sure you're not stupid enough to go home now, where he's surely waiting for you. 
You grab your phone and dial a number. It beeps a few times before the person on the other end picks up. "Y/N? Are you okay?"
You bite your bottom lip and feel your heart pounding in your chest. "No," you answer, and your eyes dart around, trying to spot anything out there. To spot him. But you can't see anything. Which makes you feel even more anxious than you already are. 
"Nothing's okay."
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