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headkiss · 1 year

Text

not just on christmas

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve’s parents are coming home for the holidays and he’s in need of a fake date. who better than you, his best friend?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: steve’s parents (derogatory), negative comments about his job, fake dating, friends to lovers, christmas themes, fluff, first kiss!

a/n: i had lots of fun with this one and i hope u guys like it!!! merry christmas and happy holidays i hope they treat u all well <33 consider this my gift to you :D

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The phone ringing forces Steve out of bed. Floors cool on his feet, the air a chill on his bare chest, he rubs his eyes lazily and picks it up.

“Hello?” He clears his throat to get rid of the sleep in his voice.

“Steve, why do you sound tired, it’s nearly noon!”

It’s no surprise that the first words aren’t asking him how he is. He’s shocked she cared enough to pick up on the tone of his voice at all. “Hi, mom.”

He doesn’t even know where she’s calling from, doesn’t know what business trip they're on. He can’t remember the last time he got a phone call that wasn’t you, or Robin, or Dustin, or anyone else other than his parents.

Steve’s not even excited to be hearing from them, because it’s a reminder that they’re not around, that they haven’t forgotten about him, they just don’t care.

He wishes you were the one that called.

“Listen, sweetie, your dad and I are coming home for Christmas this year, isn’t that great?”

He deflates, “yeah. Super.”

“There’s a business event he wants to take you to. And we’ll find you a date,” there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. “You can make some connections, maybe get out of your job at that video store soon.”

The thing is, he actually likes working at Family Video, but he knows that doesn’t matter. Then there’s the topic of the girlfriend, or lack thereof. His parents are always nagging him about when he’ll settle down, grow roots, or something.

Maybe that’s why he says, “I can get my own date. I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh! That’s fantastic! She’ll have dinner with us, won’t she? What’s her name?”

Like an idiot, he says your name. The first one that came to his mind.

You’re his best friend, and it’s easy to let his thoughts drift to you. The problem is, he has no idea how he’s going to explain this to you, how he can ask you to fake date him just to satisfy his parents for once.

If he wasn’t still on the phone, Steve would be groaning into a pillow right now.

“Okay, sweetie, your dad has a brunch we have to get to. We’ll see you soon!”

“Bye, mom. See you.”

He hangs up and sighs in relief. That feeling is quick to fade when he remembers that he had just named you his girlfriend in the midst of his phone call. He drops his face into his hands, runs them through his hair, and tries to figure out how the hell to bring up the subject with you.

To go along with that, he has to worry about his parents coming home. Though, can they really call it ‘home’ when they’ve been gone for so long? When they’ll leave again after a few days, a week at most?

Most people would be happy, excited, about their parents being around for the holidays. Steve’s not. He’d rather spend it how he has since the two of you became friends. Breakfast at your house with your family—who have become family for Steve, too—presents opened with scented candles burning and Christmas albums spun on the record player.

You went out of your way to include him, and he’s never felt so welcome in his life as he does when he’s with you.

At least, if you agree, you’ll be with him this year, too.

It’s the next day when Steve decides to bring it up. You’re at his house for movie night, which has become a weekly ritual for the two of you. He’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say since he hung up the damn phone. He’s given up and instead hopes it’ll come to him in the moment.

Today, Steve’s quiet, which is unlike him. You know something’s on his mind and you try to avoid asking him about it, trying to let him talk about it on his own time. It’s about halfway through the movie that you change your mind.

He didn’t complain when you showed up with your cheesy Christmas movie choice, he didn’t light-heartedly tease you about your outfit of choice (some festive patterned pajama pants and a sweater that’s so worn there are holes in the neckline), and the most unusual, he didn’t make a single joke or comment as the movie played.

He’s really, really quiet.

You pick up the remote and pause it, “what’s going on with you, Steve?”

He looks at you, catches your eye and sees nothing but genuine concern. Sometimes he hates the way you know him so well. He can never hide anything from you.

“What? Nothing.”

You blink at him, “come on.”

“Fine, okay. Just, don’t say anything until I’m done, please.”

“Okay,” you pretend to zip your mouth shut, ready to listen.

“My mom called yesterday and told me they’re coming home for Christmas, and that there’s this business thing they want me to go to, and that I need a date for it,” he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And you know how they’re always on my ass about me being single and stuff so I kind of told her I already had a girlfriend, and maybe I told her that girlfriend is you.”

What?

There’s a lot to process there. Mostly the fact that out of all of the names he could have chosen, he said yours. You wait for him to explain some more, but he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for a reply, so, your mouth is now unzipped.

“So, what exactly does that mean?”

He mutters a curse under his breath. “Um, so, I need you to pretend to be my actual girlfriend while they’re here.”

His use of the word ‘need’ is telling. Steve’s not one to ask for help, not even when he needs it the most but here he is, nervous and a little pink-cheeked, asking for your help.

You let the thought sit in your head for a bit. It’s not hard for you to want to agree. Steve’s your best friend, and you’d do pretty much anything for him. Though, that might also have to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with him for years.

You know more about his relationship with his parents then most do, so if you can make their visit more bearable for him in any way, why wouldn’t you?

“Okay,” you say.

“Okay? Like, you’ll do it?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m happy to help.”

That was a lot easier than Steve thought it’d be. You barely even questioned him before agreeing, and that’s not lost on him.

“Thank you so much, seriously,” he throws his arm over your shoulders, squeezes you to him in a side hug. “It’s only a few days, then we can go back to normal.”

“Easy peasy,” you say, reaching for the remote and hitting play.

Aside from your wanting to help him, to be there for him like you know he would for you, you’re also curious to see what it’s like to be with Steve that way, even if it’s fake. It’s hopeless, the way you love him, like the moon orbiting the earth around and around. Constant.

Sure, those feelings will probably only swell because of the fake relationship, but you’ve been housing them for long enough anyway.

What could go wrong?

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Robin says from the other side of a clothing rack, sifting through the pieces.

She’s the first, and only, person you told about the fake dating thing. Naturally, she decided she’d help you shop for a dress to wear to this business thing and talk about it at the same time.

The mall is decorated, garlands and lights strung, a big Christmas tree lit up in the middle of it all.

“It’s only a couple of days. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m talking about you being in love with him,” she deadpans.

“Robin, not so loud.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You know she’s being honest, and though the thought has been at the back of your mind, a whisper, you’d like to believe that you can handle a fake relationship without ruining things because of your big, big feelings.

“I spend time with him alone a bunch. It’s not that much different, okay?”

“Besides the fact that you’ll be calling him boyfriend and acting like it, too, you mean.”

Actually, you’ve been trying not to think about what exactly pretending to be his girlfriend entails. You don’t know if he’ll hold your hand, if he’ll hold you closer than he has before, if he’ll kiss you. You think it might be better to wait and see, to not let the possibilities eat at you.

“I know it sounds bad, but it’s Steve. Nothing major will happen. We’re friends and I’m helping him out.”

Robin’s in a tricky spot. She knows how you feel about Steve, obviously, and though he doesn’t see it yet himself, she knows that Steve feels the same, too. It’s taken a lot to hold herself back from speeding things along, and as much as she wishes this fake relationship plan might be a good push, things usually aren’t so easy.

She can also tell that there’s a lot you’re thinking but not saying, but instead of pushing it, she returns to looking at the dresses. It’s not long before she gasps, pulling one of the rack to show you.

“This one,” she says.

“I don’t know. That won’t look good on me.”

It’s pretty, though. You’ll give her that.

“Shut up, everything looks good on you. Will you at least try it on?” She wiggles the hanger in her hand, “for me?”

“Fine.”

You take it from her, walking back towards the fitting rooms with a grinning Robin in tow. She waits outside the door while you change into the dress.

Once it’s on, looking in the mirror, you don’t even know what to think. You’re not one to feel all that confident in what you wear, or in how you look, but this dress makes you feel pretty. Maybe you should make Robin pick out all of your clothes.

“Let me see!” Robin calls.

You step out of the changeroom, doing a shy little spin when she asks. She’s smiling proudly, like she knows she chose well (which she did). She can’t help but think of how Steve will react, because she knows he feels something for you, she can see it on his face everytime he talks about you. He’s just a dork and he doesn’t realize it. Not yet, at least.

“What do you think?” You ask.

“If Steve’s not already in love with you…”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

If she does, your brain will conjure up way too many ideas of what could possibly happen. If Steve could really feel the same. If maybe he’ll feel those same butterflies in his stomach that you do, if his heart feels bigger when you’re around. In your dreams, he does.

“I’m trying to tell you you look hot!”

December twenty-third is the day that Steve’s parents come home as well as the night of the business event. You and Steve have tried to figure out how to act like a couple, quizzing each other on things you already know, setting loose boundaries, but you figure after knowing each other for so long, being so close, it won’t feel much different than now. Besides the extra touching, the possibility of kissing.

You’re already at his house when his parents get home, your makeup and outfit for tonight sitting in Steve’s room. The two of you linger near the front door waiting for their arrival, a nervous and jittery welcoming committee.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway grabs your attention. It’s a clapperboard snapping shut, marking the scene. Action.

“You ready, babe?” He holds out his arm for you to grab, and you do.

“Time to be the best couple ever,” you reply.

Steve grins at you. He has no idea how to thank you for agreeing to do this, how to even explain to you the relief you’re sure to bring. It’s one less thing for his parents to pick and pry at.

The door opens, and you can already feel a change in Steve’s demeanor. He’s standing straighter, stiffer. You squeeze his arm, a reminder that you’re there.

“Steve, sweetie!” His mother barely greets him before moving onto you, “and this is your girlfriend?”

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.”

If it were someone else’s mother, you’d be hit with the usual ‘oh please, call me (insert name here).’ However, where the Harringtons are concerned, formality is a must. Besides Steve, of course. From what you know, the apple had fallen very, very far from the tree and you mean that as a compliment.

Even after being friends for so many years, this is the first time you’re actually meeting Steve’s parents. It’s clear that he’s never jumped at the opportunity to have his friends around when they’re home. He’s told you about them, and that’s enough for you.

“Steve! Come help me with the bags, would you?” His dad calls from outside, though he says it as a demand rather than a question.

“Yep, coming,” he replies. He kisses the side of your head before going outside, quick and sure, like he’s done it hundreds of times.

“How was your trip, Mrs. Harrington?” You fill the silence.

“Oh, just lovely, thank you,” she moves to the kitchen, expecting you to follow. “The house looks clean. Do you have something to do with that?”

Despite her trying to sound like she’s joking, you know that she truly doesn’t believe that Steve could be the one keeping the place going. As if he hasn’t been doing just that for ages.

“No, no. It’s really Steve.”

Her eyebrows raise, surprised.

Steve and his father walk in before anything else is said—thank God. You shake hands with Mr. Harrington, saying hello and wearing a tight smile. Steve’s quick to come to your side, an arm over your shoulders like a shield. Your hand moves to hold the one resting on your shoulder.

He’s even more tense when his father’s in the room, you’ve noticed. You hold his hand a bit tighter. You wish you could do something to make him feel better, and you hope that this fake relationship will do that at least a little bit.

Meanwhile Steve’s wondering how your presence could make him feel much better than he usually does with his parents around. You’re a comfort beside him, and when he gets the chance, he kisses your head again, whispering a ‘thank you’ into your hair.

The first few hours with Steve’s parents go by dreadfully slow, even with his touch on you most of the time. You’re quickly learning that as a boyfriend—even fake—Steve’s love language is easily physical touch. He has an arm around you, a hand in yours, on your leg, anything.

You’re also learning just how strained his relationship with his parents is. He’d trusted you enough to tell you most of it, but seeing them interact in front of you was different. The backhanded comments, the faces whenever he mentions his job, it makes your heart ache for him.

It’s bad enough that his parents are hardly ever around, but having them act like this when they are? You’re amazed at how good Steve has remained through it all.

When it’s time to get ready for the business party, you’re thankful for the reprieve.

“Think we’re doing a good job?” You ask Steve as he shuts the door to his room.

“They seem to be buying it. Thanks again for doing this.”

“You’ve thanked me like a hundred times, Steve. It’s okay, really.”

You want to tell him that you’re sorry these are the people he has to call family. That he shouldn’t listen to any of the shit they give him about his job or his lack of post-secondary education. That he’s the best boy you’ve ever known.

The problem is, you don’t know how to say all of that without making your feelings for him painfully obvious.

“Just gotta keep it up ‘til Christmas. That’s when they leave.”

“They’re only here for two days?” You knew the trip was going to be short, but forty-eight hours?

“Yeah, something about getting a deal on a cruise. I don’t know.”

He says it so casually, like it’s normal. You guess that for him, it is, but it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.

“Does that mean you’ll come to mine for Christmas day? Like usual?” You ask, hopefully lightening the mood.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Shut up, you’re always welcome. Think my mom likes you more than me anyway,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, then move to bring your stuff into his bathroom to start getting ready.

He leans on the doorframe, watching you set your makeup out on the counter, “she does not.”

“Steve, you have your own stocking hanging on our fireplace. And it’s bigger than mine.”

He smiles genuinely then, the first one since his parents have arrived.

He leaves you to get ready, shutting the bathroom door for when you change. You can still hear him through the door. The opening and closing of his drawers, a curse when he stubs his toe.

So far, pretending to be with Steve has been easy. You’ve acted the same save for the touches or small pecks he’s decided to keep placing on your head or your cheeks. The story you settled on was simple: you met him picking up a movie at Family Video, he asked if you needed company to watch it, the rest is history, blah blah blah.

Steve knocks on the bathroom door when you’re pretty much ready, you glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before opening it.

He stands with his tie in hand, wearing a button up and dress pants. You assume there’s a suit jacket to go along with it, and you think it might kill you. He’s so pretty, and he looks it all of the time but seeing him dressed up is really something.

“You look good, Steve,” you say. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“Thanks. You look- you too.”

Steve’s stunned. He realizes he’s never seen you in anything formal and it’s making him feel all fluttery in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s always known you’re gorgeous, in an obvious way like how the sky is blue. Now, though, it’s like he can feel it.

He clears his throat quietly and remembers the reason he knocked in the first place, “you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you?”

You’re thankful for the time you decided to learn how when you were bored one day. You take the fabric from his hands, “it’s your lucky day, Steve.”

“Thank you. Didn’t wanna have to go ask my dad.”

He’s almost shy about wanting your help over something so small, his cheeks a little pink, his head bent. You give him a reassuring smile—or what you hope is one—and place the tie around his neck.

His eyes are on you as your hands fiddle with the fabric, doing it up for him. Your eyebrows are slightly scrunched, and he wants to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. He’s not used to having that urge.

You finish up successfully after having fumbled a little bit, adjusting the tie so it isn’t crooked.

“There you go,” you pat his chest and he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat, the way it’s quicker than normal.

He has no idea what that’s about.

“Thanks.”

“‘Course.”

He’s still standing close to you, enough that he has to keep his head tilted downwards just a little to be able to look at your face. Your eyes lock onto his, and time seems to slow. You’re so gone for him and you know it, but it almost seems like maybe he’s feeling something too. Just for a moment.

His father calling out that it’s time to go snaps you out of it.

Steve grabs his jacket, shrugging it on then offering you his hand to hold, “let’s do this, girlfriend.”

The hall is oozing Christmas when you walk in, Steve’s hand in yours. Ornaments hang down from the ceiling, warm white string lights line the top of the walls, Christmas music hums through the speakers, and an extravagant Christmas tree sits in the middle of the room.

You’ve never been to an event like it, and you have a hard time keeping your nerves at bay.

Pretending in front of Steve’s parents alone was one thing. Now, the stakes are higher. You have to be convincing and though it’s not difficult for you to pretend to be in love with Steve (you don’t have to fake that at all), you worry that you’ll slip up somehow and give yourself away. Both in the sense that the relationship is fake, and that your feelings are anything but.

It’s not long before Steve’s father gets pulled into a conversation, and his mother goes along with him. You’re left standing near the doorway with Steve, biting at the inside of your cheek.

“Relax,” he leans his head close to yours and whispers.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“We’re fine. You’re fine,” he squeezes your hand, something that’s quickly become a wordless reassurance between you. “We’ve done good so far, right?”

“I guess so.”

“Okay, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Except for the fact that I love you and that you being a really good fake boyfriend isn’t helping.

“Okay.”

He smiles and leads you further into the room. The smile he gives you is different from the one he gives the people that say hi to him, the people that stop him for a chat. For you, it’s honest. For them, it doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t mean anything.

“About time you tied someone down, Steve,” a man says to him. A coworker of his father’s, just like most men in the room.

“Think she’s the one who got me, but yeah.”

“That’s sweet. Next step is to get you a stable job, huh?”

It seems like all anyone here is concerned about is what people do, who they know. It’s no fun for you and they aren’t even speaking to you directly most of the time.

“Sure. Good to see you,” Steve excuses the both of you from the conversation.

“These people suck,” you say to him, leading him to the bar set up in a corner.

“Tell me about it.”

You order water for the both of you, something to get rid of the dryness in your throat and occupy you for a bit. You drink quietly before Steve speaks up.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

He doesn’t know why it slips out now, but it does. The thought has been on his mind since he saw you standing there in his bathroom, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore.

“You don’t have to say that, Steve. Nobody’s listening.”

“I mean it, seriously.”

“Oh,” you look down at your glass, at the condensation running down the side. The corners of your mouth lift, “thank you.”

“I know this isn’t the most fun, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admits. He’s always been sweet to you, but this feels different. You don’t know how or why, but it does.

“I am too.”

Steve’s dad interrupts your moment, pulling Steve off to meet some people. Already, there’s a guard being put up by him, a shield he saves for his father.

For those few minutes, where it was just you and Steve, you realized that he’s probably the best date you’ve ever had. He pays attention to you, he’s comforting without even trying, and he compliments you with so much honesty you could melt.

He’s the best date you’ve ever had and it’s fake. It’s becoming a mantra repeated in your head; it’s not real, it’s not real.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the boy who’s sat next to you now.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he says.

“I’m not usually at these things. I came with my boyfriend,” you tell him, unsettled by his stare.

“And where is this boyfriend now?”

“He’s out there. I just needed some water but he’ll come back soon.”

You’re trying to get him to go away, to take the hint. He won’t.

“Why don’t I keep you company in the meantime?”

You’re about to reply when someone else does it for you, “not necessary. She’s my girl.”

My girl. Steve. He stands behind you, wraps his arms around your waist. It’s like he knew you needed him then, showing up as soon as you felt like you wanted to search for him. He runs his hands over your sides, a possessive touch that has your skin tingling.

“My bad, man. Thought she was lying about the boyfriend,” the guy says.

“She wasn’t. Even if she was, maybe you should learn to tell when someone isn’t interested, yeah?”

The stranger nods and walks off.

You spin in Steve’s hold, facing him. “My hero.”

“You know me,” he shrugs.

What he doesn’t say is that seeing another guy talk to you made his gut churn, bringing something that he didn’t want to admit was jealousy. He also saw the look on your face, the discomfort, and felt his feet carry him over before his mind could think it first.

His hands are still on your waist, even with the stranger gone.

It’s not until Steve’s parents are ready that you leave. They’ve taken advantage of the champagne that sat on trays, free for the taking, as well as the opportunity to talk up their son to many, many people. It seems they’re only proud of him when there’s other people around, and even then, the praise doesn’t hold much weight.

He’s trying his best. At least he’s working. He’s got a girlfriend now. No, he doesn’t host backyard parties while we’re gone anymore.

You wish you could speak up, but you know, with this many people around, it’d cause more harm than good. It’s hard to listen to the people that raised Steve talk about him the way they do. You want so badly to shout in their faces how brilliant he is, no thanks to them. How he has the kindest soul and a sort of midas touch that makes everything shine.

At least, you think he does. You promise yourself to love him better than they ever did, even if it’s in secret.

One memory from the night overpowers the rest, luckily. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played, a slower rendition, and a slow dance ensued. You watched couples split off, and when you looked at Steve, he was already looking at you, a question on his face and a hand outstretched.

You fell into step with him quickly. It wasn’t awkward for a second. One of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, his on your waist. You swayed together, unknowingly moving closer until you were close enough to rest your head on his chest. And you did.

He rested his head atop of yours and hummed the song softly. You’ll dream about that dance, probably.

Now, you sit in the car with Steve, who’s become the driver. He drops his parents off at his house first, leaving the two of you alone for the drive to yours. He sneaks glances at you at stop signs and red lights, turning back to the road when he thinks he’s been caught.

His mind is full because he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. He sees parts of you that he was blind to before. The shape of your lips, for example. The dip of your spine and the way it feels to hold you. It’s dizzying and warm, confusing and sparkling all at once.

Once he’s pulled up to your house, he offers to walk you to the door. Ever the gentleman. A romantic no matter how much he denies it, you think. He gets misty-eyed when you watch rom-coms, opens doors for you, has bought flowers for nearly all of his dates, as far as you know.

What must it be like to receive flowers from Steve Harrington?

He faces you on your front porch, hands in his pockets, “thank you again for doing this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay. I’m happy to help you, Steve. You’re my best friend.” Who I love more than anyone.

“You’re mine, too, honey.”

It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Turns out, it was his default to use in your fake relationship. It is, however, the first time he’s said it when it’s just the two of you. It sounds sweet coming from his lips, sticky. Just like honey itself.

“What time should I be over for dinner tomorrow?” You ask. It’s the last hurdle of the fake dating.

“How ‘bout I come pick you up after I finish work?”

“Yeah, okay, that’d be great, thanks.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold of December biting your skin.

“Here,” Steve notices, of course he does, and he reaches out with his hands, rubbing them up and down your arms to warm you.

“How’re your hands still warm?” You ask.

“I'm magic.”

You smile at that. He has no idea.

He reaches up with one hand to cup your cool cheek, and you nudge your face into his touch. For the warmth, you tell yourself. That’s it. His thumb runs over your skin, once, twice.

“Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty smile?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it. You don’t, though, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in your gut because of it.

“Shut up,” you try to mask your bashfulness.

Then, just like that, his face is close to yours. So close that it looks like he might kiss you. His eyes flick from your mouth up to yours, like he’s unsure of what’s happening while he’s doing it.

You can feel his breath tickling your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. Before that can happen, he’s swerving away quickly, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. The one he isn’t holding. His mouth lingers for a second.

“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin.

“Night,” you say, dazed. And he’s walking away.

Steve’s not at all sure what’s come over him. He wanted to kiss you just then, to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you stupid. What the fuck was happening to him?

When you let your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parted slightly, like you’d let him kiss you, like you wanted it, too, he panicked. Couldn't do it.

No, he doesn’t know what just happened, why it did, or why he’s resisting the urge to go back and knock on your door and actually kiss you when you open it. What he does know is that his heart seems to be doing something funny when you’re around, and that your fake relationship has been better than any of his real ones.

He knows he needs to talk to Robin about this.

Steve had to work the next morning—Christmas Eve—which he was actually thankful for. Thankful to get away from his parents, though the comments about his job followed him out the door this morning. Especially thankful because he needs to talk to Robin and sort out the mess of his feelings that has occurred in the last twenty four hours.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you. About how his stomach was all twisty when you slow danced with him. There are so many moments playing over in his memory. Not just from yesterday, either.

He remembers the way his stomach would sink when you’d tell him about a date you had or how he’d often reach out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, or to wipe something away from the corner of your mouth.

So many things over your friendship that he never thought about are coming back to him and he’s realized he doesn’t act that way with any of his other friends. Only you.

He also realizes that he hasn’t really been pretending with you at all.

“I think I love her,” Steve blurts out while he and Robin are organizing returns, the store luckily empty.

Robin reaches into her pocket, barely fazed, and tosses a handful of confetti at Steve. Some pieces stick to his hair, some to his clothes, most of it at his feet.

“What the hell?” He shakes the flecks out of his hair, “we have to clean that now.”

“I’ve been carrying around confetti for like a year waiting for this to happen!”

“Wait, what?”

“Steve, you’ve been loving her for a long time, hate to break it to you.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” He’s no longer preoccupied with the confetti.

“I was letting you do it on your own time. You’re welcome.”

Steve had only just deduced that he’s in love with you and yet, when he thinks about you, he feels the same way he has for years. He finds it hard to believe that he’s been blind to it for that long, but he has been called an idiot enough in his lifetime for it to make sense.

Then, there’s the fact that you’re not done fake dating yet, that there’s still dinner today to get through and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep himself together.

“What am I gonna do, Robin?”

“You’re gonna tell her how you feel and I will finally know peace.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I freak her out?”

“Steve, she looks at you like sun shines from your pores,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

He picks you up after work as promised, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter, his greeting a little louder than normal. You figure he’s just nervous about dinner.

Nobody brings up the almost kiss, and you don’t plan to. Maybe you read things wrong. Maybe he was aiming for your cheek all along. Maybe he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.

It seems that your feelings for Steve are present now more than ever. Impossible to ignore. It might have something to do with the Christmas spirit floating around, the lightness of the holidays. It definitely has something to do with you being Steve’s fake girlfriend.

Because it turns out, he’s an excellent boyfriend, real or not.

He opens doors for you, even if he has to jog ahead of you to do it. He’s always got at least one hand on you, warm and sure. He looks at you with so much care, his brown eyes stuck on you.

It’s all adding up and you feel like your love for him is overflowing, pouring out of you before you can reel it in. You just hope he doesn’t notice that you’re not acting, that you never were.

Walking into Steve’s kitchen, you pause in the doorway, him behind you, “this smells great, Mrs. Harrington.”

Though Steve knows she probably bought most of the stuff and then put it in pots and pans to make it look like she cooked, he agrees, “so great, mom.”

She turns to look at you both from her spot by the stove, “thank you. Oh!” She cuts herself off with a gasp, her gaze drifting above your heads.

Oh no.

“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing.

“Look at that,” you laugh, short and awkward.

“Steve, sweetie, kiss your girlfriend for tradition's sake, won’t you.”

He kisses you on the cheek.

“A real one, son,” his father pipes up from his seat at the table.

Steve finds your gaze, his eyes wide and questioning. Are you okay with this? He’s asking without saying it. You nod, barely there, but you nod and he sees it.

He cups your cheek in his hand, flashes of last night on your porch come to you. He leans in slowly, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. Instead of doing that, you hold his wrist in your hand, squeeze it. Your silent communication.

In a blink, his lips are on yours. Pillowy and almost shy, but he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re floating, your feet off the ground and everything. He pulls away before you can even register the fact that it happened.

Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your lips still burning with the memory of his.

Steve can't believe he hasn’t kissed you before. You’re soft and you fit together so well, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place. He’s kicking himself for not doing it last night, when you were alone, when it was real. Next time he kisses you, he thinks, it will be real.

He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, “so, let’s eat.”

Just like that, he’s moving to the table, pulling out a chair for you and kissing the top of your head once you’ve sat down. Already, the extra affection he’s been giving you has been dizzying. Now, it’s dialed way up.

He helps his mom serve the food before he sits down, though all he gets as a thank you is a pat on the cheek. Next to you, you can see Steve’s leg bouncing up and down. You reach out and place a hand above his knee, stilling him and drawing his gaze to yours.

You smile, and you hope it’s enough to say it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine. He rests his hand on top of yours, fingers laced together.

“So, Steve, have you been looking for jobs?” His father speaks up. The never-ending topic.

“No, dad. I have a job,” Steve doesn’t look up from his plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with his fork.

“Well, a real job, I mean.”

At Steve’s silence, his mom adds, “we just think, especially now that you have a girlfriend to support, you should look for something… better.”

You look up when she says it, eyes wide and hand tensing on Steve’s leg. You don’t understand how they care so much about what he does and so little about how he feels. He likes his job, you know that, and he’s tried to tell them multiple times over the past couple of days.

And still.

It’s impossible for you to sit by and listen to them talk to him the way they do, like he isn’t good enough. Like the only defining thing is his job, which isn’t even a bad one. What defines him is who he is as a person and he’s the best one in your life.

“Why does it matter so much?” You ask.

His parents look at you, surprised to be questioned, it seems. Steve looks at you, too, with something more like astonishment, appreciation.

“I’m sorry,” you continue, “it’s just, you haven’t seen your son in how long? And all you guys keep bringing up is his job, which he’s told you he actually enjoys. Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”

Steve’s world is tinting pink, heart-shaped lenses over his eyes hearing you defend him. Nobody’s ever tried to go against his parents for him, and here you are. Fuck, he loves you.

They’re quiet, and you’re not finished. “Steve is the greatest person I’ve ever met, and that’s no thanks to you. I’ve known him for a long time and not once have I seen you guys around. How can you judge him so much when you don’t even take the time to know him anymore?”

The room is dead quiet. Nothing but the clinking of forks against plates for the rest of the meal. You feel lighter, after saying what you did. Though you’re also terrified that you’ve overstepped, that Steve will be upset with you for causing a scene.

As if sensing your worry, he holds your hand just a bit tighter.

It’s not until after dinner, hidden away in his room, that you talk about what happened. Not the kiss; your outburst.

He shuts his door and you’re already apologizing, “listen, Steve. I'm so sorry if I made things worse, but I couldn’t just let them shit on your job anymore. I couldn’t. You’re my best friend, you know that, and-”

His arms are around you in a blink.

“Thank you,” he breathes into your hair. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. Thank you, honey.”

“Oh,” you blink away your surprise and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Anytime.”

“You’re really special.”

Your smile spreads, spilling before you can do anything about it. You hide your face in his neck and stay that way until he lets go, a flush in his cheeks and stars in his eyes.

Steve wanted to tell you he loves you right then, but the words seem stuck in his throat. They won’t come up. He wants to be with you for real, and though it happened in a rush, it also didn’t. His brain just needed to catch up to his heart.

He doesn’t say it, but he will. As soon as he can.

“Wanna go watch a movie?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay.”

Movie night. You and him. That’s real.

Steve’s parents seem to have gone out somewhere, the car missing from the driveway. They haven’t left, though. You and Steve checked for the suitcases (they’re sitting, already packed, in their room).

Playing the movie, yet another Christmas pick that Steve couldn’t say no to, you share a blanket. There’s plenty of room on the couch, you’re the only people there, and yet, Steve still tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you to lean against his side.

Maybe he’s just doing it in case his parents come home while you’re downstairs. That’s gotta be it.

“Is it bad that I’m sort of relieved they aren’t here right now?” Steve says to you, quiet.

“Not at all. You deserve better than what they give you, Steve.”

“You think so?”

“Are you kidding? I know so.”

He lets his head lean atop of yours, and that’s that.

You want to bring up the kiss, but then again, why would you? It’s not real. It’s not real no matter how much you wish it was, no matter how much it feels that way. You knew going into this that you might end up kissing Steve, you just didn’t know it’d fuck you up so much.

Part of you hopes that mistletoe will appear above your heads yet again, just to be able to feel the way you did when he kissed you. Heart fluttering, stomach twisting, warm all over.

Though Steve’s head feels relaxed, resting on yours, it’s overflowing with thoughts. You, his parents, the way you defended him, how it felt to kiss you, how much he wants to do it again. You. The entire length of the movie, he’s trying to think of a way to tell you he loves you. The best he comes up with is to wing it.

When the screen fades, and the film ends, you remember the gift you’d left in Steve’s room, buried at the bottom of your overnight bag (you decided to sleep over, something you’ve done too many times to count, and head to your place in the morning with Steve). You sit up, only to face him.

“I have something for you. C’mon,” you tug on his hand, leading him all the way to his own bedroom.

“What?”

“Just,” you make him sit down on his bed when you’re in the room, digging through your bag and finding the present you’d wrapped last night. “Here.”

He takes it from your hand slowly, like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t open it right away, staring at the red and green patterned wrapping paper and the gold stick-on bow sitting in the middle of it.

“Open it,” you urge, shuffling nervously on your feet.

He shoots you a shy smile before tearing at the paper, revealing a scrapbook of sorts. Flipping through the pages, he finds memories upon memories. Pictures of you and him, of him and Robin, all three of you. Some with the kids or with Eddie. Most of them he doesn’t even remember taking.

And it’s more than just pictures. There’s movie tickets and receipts from random fast food dinners, confetti from a surprise party for Dustin and a piece of a plate Steve broke once.

It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him. It reminds him that he does have a family, no blood relation needed.

“Honey,” he says it quietly, his eyes watering ever so slightly. “This is- I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”

“No. I love it. It’s perfect, seriously,” he runs his finger over a picture of the two of you, your faces squished together and your smiles absolutely ridiculous. “Best gift ever.”

He means it.

“I had some help with the pictures. Everyone in that book loves you, Steve.”

Everyone in that book. That means you love him, too. He knows that you could mean it platonically, but something about the way you look at him when you say it makes him think that he has to tell you. He has to try.

He’s suddenly very glad he bought you a locket for Christmas, and that he left it unwrapped because of his lack of skills in that department.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

“Steve-”

“Please,” he trades spots with you, sitting you on the edge of his bed, “close your eyes for a minute, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you shut them tight, placing a hand over them as well, “double closed.”

He rushes to grab the locket from the bottom of one of his drawers, then grabs the tiniest bit of paper and manages to write as small as he can on it, placing the message in the necklace and closing it with a small click.

Steve reaches for the hand that isn’t covering your eyes, opening it up and placing the delicate piece of jewelry in it. “Okay, open.”

You do, glancing down to what rests in your palm. It’s gorgeous, dainty, and the corners of your mouth lift at the sight of it.

“It’s beautiful, Steve. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s a locket,” he says. His head is bent, shy and visibly nervous. “Open it, too.”

Your heartbeat picks up, like you know, subconsciously, that something big is hiding inside despite the small size of the necklace itself. You wedge your fingernail into the gap, pushing the locket open. The note inside makes your stomach drop.

In his messy, rushed writing, the words ‘I love you.’

You look at him, mouth agape and hopes way up. “Steve?”

“I mean it.”

“How-”

“I mean I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a really, really long time. I guess it took you being my fake girlfriend for me to realize it.”

“You’re not pranking me, are you?”

You’ve spent so long loving him, and convincing yourself that he could never love you the same, that it feels unreal. Hazy, like a dream.

He sits beside you, cupping your face in his hands softly to make you look at him, “I’m not pranking you. I love you.”

“Holy shit. I love you, too. For so long. I never thought I had a chance with you.”

“I think you’re the only person who’s had a real chance with me since I met you, honey.”

Right there, discarded wrapping paper on the floor, the glow of Christmas lights shining through the window, you doubt you’ll ever take that locket off once it’s on.

You can’t stop yourself from rushing forward and kissing him. A small press of your mouth against his at first, then, it’s more. It’s slow and every single thing you’ve ever wanted. His lips move with yours like they’re the only ones that know you.

This time, when you kiss, there’s no question. It’s real and it’s thawing every single worry you ever had about this. This is real, you get to think now.

Steve pulls away only when your breathing gets heavier, only when he absolutely has to. His thumb trails over your cheek, a lover’s touch. He takes the necklace from your hand, puts it on for you and kisses you again when he’s done.

“Do you think this was a Christmas miracle?” You say, teasing.

“I think this was just me being too stupid to notice how I feel about you. I know now, though.”

“Because you needed a fake girlfriend.”

“Because I needed a fake girlfriend,” he confirms. “But, I’d like a real one now.”

“I think I can manage that,” you nod, a lovesick smile on your face.

For once, Steve’s glad his parents came home. He never would have asked you to fake date him if they hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have realized his very real feelings for you, either. So, maybe it is a Christmas miracle, after all.

༄

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brooooswriting · 2 months

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hi!I was thinking of leighton xreader. leighton discovers she's a sub when r calls her baby girl and she just melts. she's insecure about it

Baby girl

Leighton wasn’t really used to being called pet names. Alicia wasn’t a fan of them, or at least she assumed that as the girl never called her any, and the dudes she “dated” before her weren’t the type to do so.

But you? You were differently, you loved using them and would do it every time you could. It started with normal ones like ‘love’ or ‘darling’, then over time it became something like ‘baby’ and ‘babe’ until the party.

Leighton, her roommates and you were at another frat party when you got separated as you and Bela volunteered to get drinks for everybody. “Damn, that’s a long as cue” the girl complained as you approached the bar and she was right. Normally there were about two to five people at the bar but right now there were about 15. You sighed before starting some small talk with the people around you. Once it was finally your turn you ordered and then quickly scurried off to find your group.

You arrived just in time to see your girlfriend insult a guy to make him back off. It was obvious that she could handle herself and you were 99% sure that he didn’t touch her as Leighton was very keen on campus and somebody would have something. Still, you hurried over to her, staying behind her in case she needed help. When she was done telling him off and he disappeared you made your presence known to her. One hand was on her waist while the other one was on her face as you examined her to make sure she was alright. “Are you okay baby girl?” You asked, watching the changes in her face.

She looked at you for a moment before pulling away from you while nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go drink” she quickly turned away so you weren’t able to see the blush that took over her face. You were confused but followed her nonetheless. You drank, you danced, you chatted but the whole time Leighton avoided eye contact with you which was weird. After a couple of hours you and the blonde were dancing together closely, her back against your front with your hands on her waist. She was wearing that black dress that you loved, which may have been on purpose.

“You look really hot in that dress baby girl” you were a little tipsy and that nickname just kept flowing out, it fit her and you liked it for her. Her body shuddered under your hands and she leaned further into you, a small smirk on your lips. You had a theory and you wanted to test it.

Leighton felt her body heat up when you repeated that name. She’s always been this tall, confident blonde woman that people just assumed was a top, so she also always assumed it. But now with you, towering over her, calling her names like that she couldn’t help but rethink about it. “We should get out of here” she decided, turning around to wrap her arms around your shoulder. You gave her a nod before intertwining your hands to pull her to your dorm.

That night was the first night Leighton let go of herself, she let you take care of her in a way you always wanted. That night your bodies melted into each other, a new connection forming between the two of you. And secretly in a way she also always wanted, there wasn’t one thought in her beautiful mind except for you. Until the next morning.

You woke up with a happy smile on your face as you couldn’t wait to look to your right and see the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen but instead you were met with nothing. Cold sheets and a cold pillow. Your heart sank at the realization that she left after the night you’ve spend together. Sitting up against the headboard you checked for phone, hoping that she had to leave due to something and left you a message but again your heart sank. No text or call. Last night was the first time you felt like the blonde let go of herself, like she trusted you with all her life to take care of her.

While you sat in your bed with a heavy heart Leighton laid in hers with a heavy heart and a full mind. Yesterday’s events constantly replaying in her head but with each replay her heart got heavier and heavier at the realization that she could still lay in your arms, now just waking up. She hated herself for being so insecure about how she let you take care of her, you seemed to enjoy it too, so why leave? The question came up every time her flashback arrived at her tiptoeing out of your room. She couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t be happy with yesterday.

Meanwhile you couldn’t figure out what you had done wrong. Leighton wasn’t answering her phone, no matter how many times you called. After nearly the whole day went by you decided that you guys had to talk about it. If there was anything, literally anything, you had done wrong you wanted to know so you could fix it. You’d do everything to make it up to her. “Hi Kimberly, is Leighton here?” You asked the brunette with a small smile when she opened the door.

“Hi, yeah. I think she’s still in her room. I haven’t really seen her today, she wasn’t in the mood to talk” she answered, stepping aside to let you in. You nodded along as you made your way towards the blondes door.

“Ok, I’ll try and talk to her. Thank you” she gave you a nod and a smile before disappearing into her own room. You waited until her door closed before your knuckles came into contact with the wood. “Leighton? Can we talk?” You asked carefully as you opened the door a small bit so she could hear you better.

“Y/n?” She said surprised, you took that as a sign to come in. You quickly closed the door behind you again, leaning against it to get some kind of support. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was small, a bare whisper leaving her lips in the dark room.

“Well, you left without saying anything and I wanted to see how you’re doing and if I did anything wrong? Because if I did, I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to force you into anything” you explained, not leaving your spot against the door. Leighton was happy about the darkness, your voice portrayed your feelings very clearly and she couldn’t imagine how you were looking right now.

“You didn’t do anything” while her voice was small you could hear that she was genuine. With a bit more confidence you moved towards her bed, sitting at her side on top of her blanket.

“Can I ask why you left then? And didn’t answer my texts? I thought something happened to you” your hand rested on one of her knees, carefully stroking her leg over the covers. You could practically feel her hesitating. “Baby girl?” You urged a bit. You knew the girl better than anyone by now and you knew the longer she was in her head the worse her thoughts got.

Her face turned red again at the nickname and she quickly looked away, trying to hide it just like yesterday. But this time her confidence build back up faster than before, she looked up at you to see you admiring her. Her mind was running miles, she couldn’t decide is she should tell you the truth or just make something up hoping that you’d believe it. But the hope and concern in your eyes as you looked down at her stopped her mind. “I am not used to this” she started, unsure of how to tell you that she was just insecure. That she leaving you in the middle of the night was just due to some stupid anxious thoughts.

Her anxious behavior was radiating off of her so bad that you could practically feel it. You nudged her a bit so she’d scutch over making room for you to lay next to her. You didn’t want to stare at her so you just laid on your back and held her hand in yours. “I’ve never let myself go like this, I’ve always been the dominant one… but with you yesterday, it was so easy, so normal. It just felt right to give control to you and that scares me” she explained, messing with your fingers. You smiled lightly at her, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“And that is completely okay. If you didn’t feel comfortable with it we don’t have to do it again. But if you’re just scared because it hasn’t been like this before it’s okay. We can do take it slow, talk about it, we can do whatever you want to make you feel comfortable with it” you told her, finally facing her to give her a comforting smile. She turned her head towards you too and gave you a small nod.

“I do want it to be like that but I think it’s just that… everybody always expected me to be the strong and dominant one. I never had the opportunity to let go and now I don’t know how to deal with it” you nodded along as she explained her worries, her brows furrowing as she kept getting in her head. As she got deeper and deeper into her thoughts you reached up and brushed your thumb over her furrowed skin.

“Well, with me you can be whatever you want as long as you’re mine” you grinned, knowing that the cheesy line would lighten the mood. She loved watching romcoms with you to make jokes about the cheesiness and since you first did it you used every opportunity to be cheesy.

“You’re an idiot” she laughed as she turned on her side, one hand stroking over your stomach while yours placed itself on her waist. “But you know what, maybe we can practice me letting go now” she leaned over and pressed several kisses to your lips. You ushered her onto your lap, her thighs around you with her hands on your neck while yours grabbed at her hips.

“Whatever you want baby girl” you rasped out, by now knowing that the nickname did something to her. As soon as the nickname left your mouth, she whined and ground her hips down. You chuckled at her neediness before starting to leave marks on your neck.

The next morning you woke up with Leighton in your arms, her back pressed against your front as she held the hand that was over her waist. You smiled and pressed some kisses to her shoulder to lightly wake her up adding a “good morning baby girl”. You immediately heard a whine and felt how she turned in your arms with a smile.

“If you ever wanna leave this bed again you have to stop with that nickname” she said, quickly looking over to see that Bela wasn’t there. Her smile turning into a smirk.

You’d happily stay in that bed forever.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #leighton murray x reader #renee rapp x reader #tslocg x reader

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cultofdixon · 2 months

Text

Secrets kept for another’s safety, until you lose it

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Some Saviors just can’t let go and go for what’s important to Daryl Dixon. But little did he know about more than losing his partner. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Injuries / Anxiety Attacks / Blood loss

Requested by: Anon

Just because the Saviors War is over, doesn’t mean it’s completely dealt with. People have their vendettas and everyone will forever be scarred by the actions of Negan, apart of the Saviors or not.

When Negan was taken to prison instead of hell, the group decided that it would be best to have shifts of their people to watch The Sanctuary until they’ve fixed everything. Or until they put someone in there for a more permanent position.

After a month in and it was Daryl and Y/N’s turn to watch the place. Both having their own imprisonment to the place because of Negan. So they weren’t all too happy to be back. But the night gave them time to themselves.

Which led them on the roof this night…

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Daryl asks, putting the joint back to his lips watching Y/N finish putting up the last of their clothes on the clothesline. “You haven’t talked in a bit”

“Am I really that talkative?” She laughs softly, tossing the extra pins in the empty laundry basket. “I’m just enjoying the night with my husband. What else more could I ask for?”

“Could go dark on yea and say for Negan to be dead”

“Well you’re not the only one wanting that” Y/N sat on the stool while Daryl laid on a mattress they had brought up there. Neither of them want to live inside the walls anymore. “Can we just think toward the future?”

“We can” Daryl pushed himself to sit up, offering the joint to her as she shook her head. He stared a bit confused before shrugging it off. “Again, sunshine…what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

Y/N fell silent once more before looking out toward the woods trying to find a good start to what she wants to talk about.

“You remember when you first held Judith?”

“Lil’ Ass kicker, yeah?”

“Do you remember what you told me afterward? When you handed her off to Hershel?”

The confused look on his face gave her answer.

“You said I don’t think I’d be cut out for this if I were Rick.”

“Why are yea bringing that up now? Are you—-“

“No!…No…” Y/N visibly slumped. “It’s just. The threat is gone. We have a home that is ours. Walls to protect us from the dead…we could. Do it. Have a child. Have that future…”

Give Daryl some credit when he has thought about this before. Having a child with his wife…all of their love put into a single human being. But all the anxieties that came with that thought flooded his mind.

“I don’t wanna lose you like Rick lost Lori” For something that happened years ago, it still haunted him. Especially with the scares they’ve had before a true moment of peace came.

“Daryl…that…that was going to happen to Lori regardless…she had a c-section with Carl, any baby after that was bound to come out the same way. This would be a first for me. We could prevent the possibility of needing a c-section”

“But there’s still a chance. I…” Daryl stopped himself to avoid her eyes and hang his head not ever wanting to think about that possibility. But then again…what was he going to do? “I just can’t” he whispers which led Y/N to bring herself to his level and coax his gaze back onto her. “I can’t lose you…I…I’ve lost enough and everything about how I’d be a terrible father aside I won’t be able to raise our child alone if I lost you…I will always need you”

As much as it broke Y/N’s heart to know his feelings and to have to push aside hers because the last thing she would want is to lose or hurt her husband…the tears fell from her eyes as she presses her forehead against his.

“Okay. Okay…You won’t lose me. Ever. I’m here…just me” Y/N brought her arms around his shoulders bringing her face into the crook of his neck as Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around her holding her close.

The things you do for love will always be something…that will always be changing

About four months later…

Y/N finally emerges from the basement living she and Daryl live in under the Grimes’s residence. She gave a smile to Michonne who said “good morning” in her arrival watching her friend join her and Judith at the kitchen island.

“Think you can handle breakfast?”

“Yes, I think I finally got over that ill spell” Y/N took a seat at one of the barstools smiling to Judith beside her before drawing her attention to the quick footsteps making their descend down the stairs.

“Hey! You’re up here, how yea feeling? Yknow Daryl—-“

“Has been having you ask every day since I came back from the Sanctuary not feeling well. I’m doing okay. Better than before”

“Great to hear that, I’ll tell Daryl in person when I make my rounds to the other communities” Rick smiles approaching Judith who was happy to see her dad. “First thing, take this little one to the teacher to watch her while we’re all out”

Michonne gave Y/N a confused look as she tiredly turned to her lifting her head from her hand.

“I’m gonna work in the pantry. So I don’t feel entirely useless”

“You’re allowed to take it easy” Michonne was stern with her words which brought the confusion out of Rick’s expression while he picked up Judith heading toward the door.

“I think I’ll be fine” Y/N shot a stern look at her friend as Michonne instantly waited for the front door to close, ultimately for Rick to leave. “The baby will be fine”

“Y/N, when are you going to tell Daryl so this doesn’t have been a secret between you and I? You’ve mentioned about a conversation you had with him that doesn’t quite add up to the fact that you didn’t——“

“He doesn’t want to have a baby.” Y/N frowns forming fists as she had the habit of digging her nails into her flesh to avoid the crying. “He doesn’t want to have a baby with him and I promised I wouldn’t. But I still got knocked up. Now he’s going to lose me or I’m going to lose him” the tears came anyway as the frustration was obvious in the discomfort in her face which led Michonne to maneuver around the island to bring herself beside her friend letting her rest her head on her shoulder as her arms caged her. “All I wanted was a family with the man that I love but the factors of being good enough or dying unexpectedly just floods that man’s mind and hell I can’t blame him for any of it. But now I’m plagued with it while I carry his child”

The two didn’t hear the click of the door finally closing. All that mattered was Michonne comforting her friend until it was time for the day to get started.

“I’ll be helping Gabriel rebuild his chapel with a few Saviors we have taken in for rehabilitation to show they can do something good. We are thinking of making it also the leading to the farm” Michonne stated as she walked Y/N to the pantry. “So I will be around if you need me. I’ll also keep an eye on the saviors. I know what some of them have been saying but we haven’t come across one angry with Rick or Daryl or literally any one of us”

“Are you really trying to say you’re watching out for my safety when I’m gonna be confined to a chair and a notepad for the most part”

“Yes, yes I am. Plus…the infirmary is right next door and I know Siddiq is doing his inventory and preparing shipment of medical supplies we’ve found on the runs we had recently.”

“Michonne”

“Yes?”

“You’re rambling” Y/N laughs opening the door to let herself in. “I’ll holler if I need anything” she says halfway inside when Michonne quickly reminded her about the no heavy lifting which got a scoff out of the woman.

About an hour or two has passed and Y/N groans out of boredom while sitting on the stool in the pantry. She stared out the window watching people walk passed or the few groups carrying wood and metal around for the walls and new buildings. Inventory was done, restock of what they have was done, and she was about to get started on the shipment for the Kingdom when she heard the door open.

“Michonne I really don’t need you watching—-“ Y/N stopped speaking when she watched the unfamiliar man step in quietly, assessing the environment. “Uhm. Can I help you with anything?”

“I was told by that scary priest that we hold the extra building supplies in here on occasion when the shed ain’t organized” He stepped around the pantry looking for himself before looking at Y/N as she couldn’t shake this familiar feeling. “You’ve got nails? Maybe a better hammer than this shit?” The hammer she didn’t notice before only confused her on where he pulled it out from. But asides from that, Y/N got off the chair and went to grab such for him.

“How’s the construction going?”

“It’s going. That Rick guy has us doing a lot just has his woman bossing us around” He scoffs looking at the jarred goods they have while Y/N knelt down to carefully go through a box for a smaller box of nails. “How can you even do what Rick asks y’all to do?”

“Have you even met Rick? He does the right thing, most of the time” Keeping Negan alive was the wrong one.

As Y/N rose to her feet with the box of nails she watched the man pull off the Polaroids that were stuck to the window. Just for a better look but it made her uneasy thinking he was going to get rid of them.

“Family?” He questions lifting up the ones with Glenn and Maggie, watching Y/N nod as he fixated on one with her and Daryl before putting them back. “Find’em?”

“Yeah, here” She handed off the box hearing him thank her before stepping out. But before she could even straighten out the pictures and take a seat, Y/N didn’t hear the door close entirely.

It didn’t take long for what to happen, happen.

The second she rounded the corner…Y/N flinched slightly being up close to the man without a name. She looked down to find a few nails shoved deep into her side. The shock made the pain not come right away and she was still experiencing it while he drove them to the point he couldn’t.

“You are just as dumb as you were back when you were his wife.” He glares into the deep pits of her soul as Y/N lifted her head from watching the blood spill from her side. Her mind racing to one thing. “Rick shoulda killed him. Your bitch dog of a man shoulda killed him. Maybe even the sword lady. Anybody. Then you all would’ve been seen as stronger instead of weak ass beings.”

“I-…I—-“ Y/N felt the tears spill and he grabbed her face to make her force eye contact.

“Let me take you away from everybody and I’ll watch them suffer” then the man quickly removed his hand when he heard voices outside. He pushed her aside but the blood loss led it to be a bit more dramatic as she fell to her knees.

As he made his escape through the back, Y/N slumped against the wall hesitant to touch her side. But they weren’t in prime condition, they could have some traces of rust and she can’t afford an infection if she wants any chance of that surviving.

A few were hard to pull out and one was embedded deep that Y/N contemplated letting it stay in but she was already this far.

Baby.

…

Daryl… Y/N sobbed as she used her knife to cut into her to pull out the last nail that was embedded deep. She had to stop the bleeding so she could go get help and knew she had towels in the other room out of the foyer. But the blood loss was too much that when her weak body crawled about halfway there, it gave out.

“Daryl”

“I know this shithole sucks but yea said you’d be here earlier” Daryl clearly was in a mood while working on his bike, and with Rick only crossing his arms with an annoyed expression after his words. He knew he shouldn’t have expressed all of that. “Sorry. I’m frustrated.”

“Did something happen?”

“No…” Daryl frowns fiddling with a tool in hand. “Y/N hasn’t radio’d me today. Michonne was gonna give hers to my girl so I can check up on her but nothin’”

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for that. Plus I’ve got uh…an update of my own regarding your wife” Now he had to be careful. He did hear everything in the kitchen that morning but Rick isn’t the best at de-escalating the situation.

But it felt like fate for him to be interrupted by his radio in that exact moment.

“Rick—-Are you with Daryl?”

“Gabriel? Yes, why?”

“Michonne—-Hilltop” his end was cutting out and the urgency only stressed the retired sheriff and huntsman. “Bleeding—-Stopped—-Other reasons—-Y/N”

“Gabriel. Who’s injured?!” Rick shouts annoyed as the silence grew for a moment.

“Y/N was found bleeding—-Attacked—-Go to Hilltop”

“Load up. Forget the bike” Rick stated even though the second Daryl heard it was confirmed to be Y/N, he went right into the driver’s seat of Rick’s truck. Rick quickly got in the passengers and didn’t wait another minute to tell Daryl.

The accident happened a few hours ago before Gabriel radio’d Rick. He only comm’d him as per request from Michonne to update him and to get Daryl on their current actions of getting Y/N to the Hilltop. For their ultrasound machine. The one from the Sanctuary got moved to the Kingdom to be repaired by a retired technician.

Y/N sat up in bed in the medical trailer not liking the feeling of the IV in her arm and the antibiotics Siddiq had her on. Made the sick feeling return and the nausea meds never worked on her.

“Daryl is on his way” Michonne frowns sitting in the chair beside her as Maggie sat at the edge of the bed with her hand rested on her calf. Both being protective of her in her current state.

“I didn’t get a name of the guy…”

“Hun we don’t have to do that now” Maggie assured her. “Aaron and Rosita are looking for the guy back home with the description you gave before they moved you here. We don’t have to talk about it at all and focus on you staying alive and healthy”

The tears returned as Y/N pulled her hand away so she could hide her face in them. As she sobbed she didn’t hear the sound outside of 1. The car stopping in front of the trailer. 2. Daryl shouting at a few people. And 3. The sound of a Hilltop resident screaming after Daryl shoved them out of his way to get inside the trailer. The second the door opened and his worry expelled from him, Michonne and Maggie got up from their spots moving so he could get close to his wife.

Michonne motioned for Maggie to leave with her as she instantly went to Rick to talk about the guy that attacked Y/N.

Daryl instantly wrapped his arms around her feeling her grab fists full of his vest, making him want to squeeze her but he instantly pulled away when she winced. He started to check her person himself even if Siddiq does a great job with his assessment after dealing with the main problem. He even checked her bandages watching the discomfort grow on her face along with a few tears still falling.

“Are you okay? What did that bastard do to yea? Is the peanut okay?”

“What?”

“Is the baby okay?” Daryl’s voice cracked when asking that question as it only made Y/N cry even more giving him mixed signals.

Someone told him she thought and as much as that brought relief, it brought a lot of regret and pain that she didn’t tell him herself.

As she pulls from his touch, Daryl watches her reach for the table beside the bed grabbing a piece of paper before returning and giving it to him. He carefully took it into his hands looking at the picture of the peanut that was very much still there. He exhales relieved, feeling his own tears spill and the softness of her hands gently wipe them away.

“I’m sorry—-“

“No.” Daryl cut her off setting the photo in her lap so he could take her hands into his. “I…I shouldn’t have said what I said months ago…I didn’t want to push you away ever if this were to happen. Cuz let’s be honest with ourselves, we fuck like bunnies. It was bound to happen” he broke out in a smile listening to Y/N laugh to his words. He planted a kiss on her cheek as she kept that smile of hers. “We…we can die to anythin’ and that shouldn’t stop us from living.”

“Daryl…”

“Let’s go home, sunshine. Let me protect the both of yea”

Daryl helped Y/N get in the car before approaching the small group that was fixated on the woman.

“There’s a lead”

“You know I’m not gonna hesitate to kill that guy” Daryl stated and instead of receiving the usual Rick talk about no need to go far he was genuinely confused. “What”

“I’m going to help you get the son of a bitch. He does want to take us out because of Negan”

“You’re willing to be bait?”

“If Rick gets hurt, your ass is next” Michonne threats with a smile before joining Y/N in the car giving them a bit more time to discuss then joining their partners.

The day progresses into the night and Daryl found the right moment to slip away from his spot beside his wife so he could leave the house to take care of business.

As the man climbs over the wall after hiding out until night, he stumbled on his landing and when he straightened up he was face to face with Rick.

“Seriously. Just let me go”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen”

“Like you of all people will pull the trigger” He scoffs, making the mistake of reaching for his weapon because that led to a bolt piercing him in the side of the skull.

Rick watches the body fall limp to the floor before turning to Daryl emerging from the shadows.

“There’s gonna be more like him” Rick stated. “We won’t kill them all”

“Anybody, and I fucking mean anybody…who comes near my pregnant wife the way that guy did? Will meet the same fate”

And on that note, he returned back to his spot beside Y/N who instantly rolled over to face him and bring herself close.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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jgracie · 24 days

Text

🔥 DATING LEO VALDEZ

masterlist | rules

percy's version | jason's version | frank's version | travis' version | luke's version

in which you want to wear his initial on a chain 'round your neck (because he really knows you)

pairing leo valdez x reader

warnings none

an this is lowkey based off of the reader from leo and y/n's garage but she isn't a daughter of athena in this!!

Ever since you met Leo Valdez, you hated him. When he and his two friends arrived at camp, he was the first to get claimed and so you were given the task of showing him around camp. Not too bad, right?

Wrong. As you walked him around camp, you clenched your jaw in annoyance as all he seemed to be capable of doing was making jokes.

You weren’t a super serious person, but there was a time and place for jokes and it definitely wasn’t now, with Percy Jackson missing

Life sucked at that moment and his insensitivity was just making it worse. You knew he didn’t know any better, but you still couldn’t help but be upset

The Fates clearly enjoyed winding you up, since they had decided to make you part of a quest with none other than Valdez himself (as well as Jason and Piper)

During it, you got to know the three demigods more and became really good friends with Jason and Piper. Leo, however, not so much. He insisted on annoying you whenever he got the chance, and no matter how much you tried avoiding him, he'd find his way back

After the quest, you planned to keep your distance from him. Just because you were part of the eight demigods from the great prophecy, didn’t mean you had to be around Leo

Instead, you chose to stick to Annabeth, who was learning as much as she could about Roman mythology for your trip to Camp Jupiter

“Y/N, you like mechanics, don’t you?” Annabeth had asked you when you walked into Cabin 6 one day. You did like mechanics. It was something not a lot of people knew about you, since you weren’t a Hephaestus kid, but you’ve always had an affinity for machines

Sitting on her bed, you replied, “yeah, why?”

If you could go back and change your answer, you would. Putting her book down, Annabeth said, “could you go help Leo with the ship? I think there’s something up with it but he’s too stubborn to tell any of us, and you’re the only one who’d be able to tell just by looking at it.”

Begrudgingly, you got up and left, heading for Bunker 9. If anyone other than Annabeth had asked you, you would’ve disagreed, but you didn’t want to put her through any more stress

You knocked on the door of Bunker 9. No answer. Maybe this was your lucky day. Just as you were about turn away, the door opened, revealing the bane of your existence himself

“Hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” He asked. Your eyebrows furrowed at the tone of his voice. Usually, it was teasing and made you want to rip your hair out. Today, it seemed almost sad

Letting yourself in, you said, “Annabeth thinks there’s something wrong with your ship, so I’m here to check,” you made your way to the incomplete ship, despite his protests

It took you one look to notice what was wrong. The issue was really minor, and you were surprised Leo hadn’t noticed it earlier. You grabbed a nearby screwdriver and began working, unaware of Leo’s watchful eyes pinned on you

“Okay, try it now,” you said, stepping back. Leo tried the mechanism, and it worked

He grinned, clearly relieved, “thanks a lot, Y/N, I was really worried I’d disappoint everyone,” The last part he mumbled to himself, but you heard it. You never pinned Leo as the type to care about other people’s opinions. If he cared about other people’s opinions, he would’ve left you alone a long time ago

“You won’t disappoint anyone, Leo, stop saying dumb things. You’re not perfect, none of us are, that’s why the prophecy says there are eight of us and not just one.”

After that day, Leo got less irritating, and you found yourself gravitating towards him more. You’d forgotten how much you enjoyed working with machines until you helped him fix the ship, and as the two of you continued to work together on the Argo II, you got closer

When Gaia had taken over Leo’s body and made him fire on Camp Jupiter, you were the first person to defend him, telling the others he’d do no such thing consciously

And when you happened to have a particularly bad nightmare, Leo was the first person you went to for comfort. He’d whisper comforting words in your ears, sometimes in English, sometimes in Spanish, and tell you stories about his days before camp to make you feel better

You sniffled as you lay on Leo’s bed. The boy in question sat at his desk, tinkering with a piece of metal. When you showed up at his door, he claimed he hadn’t been sleeping anyway, but you were starting to doubt that. Still, he insisted he was fine

“It’s just that Annabeth and Percy have been some of my best friends for years,” you said, your voice a tell-tale sign that you’d been crying, “and now they’re stuck in Tartarus and I can’t do anything about it.”

Leo turned to look at you, and his heart ached at the sight of your eyes starting to well up with tears again, “it’ll be okay, I promise. They’re two of the strongest people I’ve ever met, if any two people could survive Tartarus, it’d definitely be Annabeth and Percy”

He made his way over to where you were sitting and started gently stroking your back as you leaned your head on his shoulder, “thanks Leo, you’re the best,” you said

When you received no reply, you looked up at him, confused, “are you alright?”

“Y/N, do you like me? As more than a friend, because friends don’t do stuff like this,” he asked, shocking you. The truth was you did like him, but you were too shy to tell him. All those days building things together made you grow really fond of him. Speechless, you simply nodded

“I like you too, Y/N.”

Ok now actual dating hcs :)

Leo’s such a sweet boyfriend. He’d do anything to make sure you’re living life as the princess you are. His love languages are acts of service and gift giving so best believe he’s making random things just to make your life more comfortable

(Check @/relatable_laura’s hubby home improvements folder on tiktok. That’s basically what Leo does for you)

He LOVES wearing t-shirts like the ones I put at the top of this post. At first, he bought them as a joke but eventually he got known for them in camp and began wearing them all the time

You actually gifted him the “big dick is back in town” one and he wears it religiously. The best compliment he’s ever received

Leo also teaches you morse code, and once you finally get the hang of it you guys are tapping messages to each other all the time

A lot of the time it’s really random stuff like “I’m craving pizza right now” and you just do it because you like having a language that’s just spoken between the two of you

You spend so much time in Bunker 9 people have started joking about it being the 21st cabin: the Leo and Y/N cabin

Leo also talks about you a lot. Whenever a new demigod arrives and he happens to be in charge of them, he’s always talking about you. It’s worse if they’re one of his siblings, since he insists they must know everything about their sister-in-law

You’re literally his media naranja: the other half of his orange, his better half

“I have a very special surprise for you,” Leo said as he walked into your cabin, hands behind his back. You smiled when you saw him, as he always managed to make your days better just by being there

“Close your eyes and put your hands out,” you did as you were told, your smile growing in size. When he told you to open them, you did, and found a gold necklace with the letters L and V dangling off of it

“Oh my Gods, Leo! You got me a Louis Vuitton necklace? I can’t believe it!” You fought the urge to laugh as you watched his facial expression go from pride to disappointment

He grabbed the necklace from your hands, pouting as he looked down at it and realised he shared initials with the renowned company, “no, baby, this isn’t Louis Vuitton, it’s Leo Valdez, it’s so much better! Turn around so I can put it on you.”

You turned, still giggling, and he did the clasp of the necklace. It was a perfect fit. You went to look in a mirror and gasped when you saw it in the reflection, “Leo, this is so beautiful,” you mumbled. On your chest, it sparkled with the love you and Leo shared

You’d wear this necklace for the rest of your life. Not because he owns you, but because he really knows you. (I had to guys)

#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez #leo valdez x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez headcannons #cynwrites

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amorchai · 4 months

Note

OMG IM IN LOVE WITH UR JESS MARIANO FICCS!! can i request a jess mariano x reader? the reader is a naturally loud and bubbly person. reader is talking to jess abt something they're excited abt, but realize that theyve been talking the entire time and jess hasnt said anything, reader automatically shuts down and stops themselves bc they're always told that theyre too loud and talk to much. i need the comfort fics😢😢 <3

jess assures you when you're insecure.

pairings: jess mariano x reader

words: 466

warning(s): insecurity ( r thinks they talk too much )

you had been mid-rant, jess fresh on break with a tea towel over his shoulder and hair tousled from the aftermath of mid-afternoon rush in luke’s café. when you had entered, the chaos of people leaving, jess breathed a sigh of relief and his uncle granted him his break.

you were talking about your long day at college – filled with dramatic students and unsympathetic professors, jess was sitting across from you, head perched on his palm staring at you.

“… i didn’t do one of the readings because i used that time to see you instead, god forbid i have a social life because he didn’t care… he just looked right at me and said that i should’ve known the answer.”

jess quirks a smile, a simple ‘how was your day?’ turning into a ramble that he didn’t dare interrupt. he knew you were interested in him, you just needed to offload and then you’d ask how his day was – even though his was significantly more boring than yours.

“anyways, i met paris for a bit during our free periods – she drove down and we grabbed some lunch. so that made me feel better, oh they had the best black coffee! paris loved it! i should take you sometime-”

you take notice into how jess is staring at you, your energy yields as you take it for boredom rather than admiration, the relationship was still fairly new in your defence.

“i would love that, baby,” jess replies.

your eyebrows furrow, your finger that previously runs across jess’ free palm stops. jess matches your expression, hand cupping yours with a small, “what’s just happened?” confused by the sudden silence and change of energy.

“no, sorry, was just rambling. i haven’t even asked you how your day was…” you trail off, looking down to your hands to avoid eye contact in case you might cry. jess tries to meet your gaze, head lobbing down, “it’s okay, i like listening to you talk.”

you look at him, eyes wide and confused, “you do?” jess’ heart throbs in his chest, unsure if you’ve been called out on being talkative or upbeat before, but a topic he’ll bring up another time. “’course, baby.”

your biting your lip anxiously, the need to kiss him very much sitting in your heart, if only you weren’t in the company of small-town eyes – babette sitting across the room. “how was your day?” you ask jess, smiling happily when he takes both your hands in his.

“alright, kirk saying this, dean annoying the living the hell outta me. but tell me more about the café. we could go on friday after your college class, yeah?”

you couldn’t help following your heart in leaning over and kissing jess, even if it was only for a few seconds.

my masterlist . my taglist

#— ꒰꒰ ➵ my works ｡˚ ꒱꒱#gilmore girls┊ ➶ ˚⊹ jess mariano ⊹#jess mariano #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x you #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano fanfic #gilmore girls #gilmore girls imagine #gilmore girls fanfiction

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andreafmn · 8 months

Text

Speak | Chapter 14

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

A/N: this chapter is way longer than I thought it would be and all I'm saying about it is that the next couple of chapters are gonna be a shitshow 🤭🤭 Also, tried to keep the taglist as it was and to add people, but Tumblr won't let me post the chapter with how many there are. TAGLIST CLOSED

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Not seeing Jacob for almost three weeks had not been as catastrophic as (Y/N) had thought it would be. It had been odd, she couldn’t lie. She had gotten used to seeing him at least once or twice in a week and coming home to an empty house had been unusual. Still, it had not sent her into the comatose whirlwind her sister had fallen into after her boyfriend had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth.

Charlie hadn’t questioned it at first. Mostly because (Y/N) didn’t seem any different, and she still talked to someone on the phone most days. Nothing was amiss in the eyes of the household.

Until a switch flipped inside Bella. Halfway through (Y/N)’s Jacob detox, her older sister started to disappear a couple of times a week. She didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing, but she was happy that Bella seemed to be doing better. Whether it had been because of their father’s ultimatum or because she genuinely was starting to move on didn’t matter. (Y/N) was simply happy that her sister seemed content.

Her mind was also occupied with a certain boy and what he had done to make sure she was okay. In the days after the accident, he called her every morning and every night, reminding her to change her bandages and apply antibiotic ointment. He always asked how her bruise was doing and made sure she remembered to ice it every night. He had made her feel cared for, and he had made sure she knew that someone out there was watching out for her well-being.

The feelings that fluttered in (Y/N)’s heart were still unclear to her. She couldn’t deny the magnetism that pulled her toward Paul, and the more she got to know him, the more she understood her gravitation toward him. Just not what had spurred it on.

“Hey, (Y/N), I’m going out soon,” Bella called out. “I left some breakfast done in the microwave.”

“Where are you going?” (Y/N) asked, peering her head down the stairs.

“On a hike.”

“By yourself again?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m trying to get used to being there by myself again.”

“If you give me a couple of minutes to get ready, I could go with you. Make sure you don’t fall this time,” the younger girl offered. “I wouldn’t mind some sisterly bonding..”

“Uh, well... you know, maybe next time?” Bella stammered. “I’m kind of short on time, and I have a shift at Newton’s soon after.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Just be careful, then. Wouldn’t want another ER visit.”

“Right,” she chuckled dryly. “I’ll see you later, (Y/N).”

“Yeah. See you.”

Much like the past weeks, even if she was doing well, Bella seemed to be avoiding her sister. And it felt no different than when she wouldn’t speak at all. At least at that point, she would at least meet (Y/N)’s eyeline. It had sent her down a spiral as she wondered what she had done for her sister to spend as little time as she could with her.

But she had no time to dwell on her sister’s rejection. She didn’t want to. Instead, she packed a backpack full of art supplies –paints, brushes, and a canvas notebook. The items were coated with a layer of dust, left abandoned and untouched for many years.

(Y/N) had grown up loving everything artistic. It was a side Bella was not in tune with, and it had made her feel closer to her mother because of it. When they had been on the road, many a time did Renée and her youngest daughter stop by a creek or a clearing to paint the scenery before them. If they didn’t paint, they would prop up a couple of chairs and spend hours knitting or crocheting. Those were the moments she thought there would be a possibility that she and Bella could be on equal footing.

As she got ready to go, she realized there was no way she had no way of getting anywhere near the place she had in mind without a set of wheels. Her father had promised that as soon as he could, he would get her a car, but for the time being, she was stuck hitching rides with her sister to school and depending on others to drive her anywhere. She never realized how inconvenient it was to not have a car now that she was… single?

(Y/N) walked to the phone in the kitchen, dialed the number she had unknowingly memorized, and waited for a response. “Hey,” she smiled as the call was picked up. “Are you, by chance, doing anything right now?”

“Not really,” Paul said through the phone. “I should be doing homework, but I am up for anything that gets me out of it.”

“Well, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could pick me up? I was in the mood of painting in the woods, somewhere by the trailhead off the one-ten, but I have no way of getting there.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you have something to do.”

“It’s absolutely no problem, (Y/N),” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

After he hung up the phone, (Y/N) went ahead and finished packing the rest of the supplies she would need, as well as food and drinks for the trip. If she was going to make him make the trip to and from Forks, she could at least make it worth his while. In a lunchbox cooler, she placed the remaining slices of a cake she had made the week before, BLT sandwiches she quickly put together, and anything else she could find in the fridge and around the kitchen that would be good to snack on –crackers and cheese, some assorted vegetables and fruits, chips, and bottles of water and a couple of cans of soda.

By the time Paul reached her front door, she was carrying a full backpack on her back and a couple of bags in her arms. “Are you moving to the forest?” he chuckled the moment he saw her reaching for the heaviest ones. “I didn’t think this outing would be so life-changing.”

“Well, my things are on my back,” she explained. “The lunchbox is filled to the top with food and drinks, then that bag has a blanket and some other dry snacks. I might be forcing you to make this long trip, so I thought I would at least feed you in exchange.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” Paul smiled softly. “But I appreciate the food. I may have also brought along some things to eat.”

“Great minds think alike, it seems,” she returned his grin. “Then, thank you for driving me. I’m sure there are a million other ways you would rather spend a Saturday.”

“Not really,” he shrugged as he opened the passenger door for (Y/N) after placing all of the bags in the back. “You honestly saved me from a very boring English paper on The Great Gatsby.”

“I actually read that book last year,” she added as Paul turned the truck on. “It’s really good once you get into the story.”

“How have you already read it? I thought you were a sophomore.”

“I didn’t read it for school,” she chuckled. “Surprisingly enough, you can read things without being graded on them and like them. It’s actually one of my favorites.”

“Then I guess I will just have to give it a fair chance,” he said. His eyes snapped to hers for a quick second before focusing on the road once more, and she couldn’t help the rush that it sent through her. “If it’s one of your favorites, then it must have some type of redeeming quality.”

“I’m sure you’ll like it,” (Y/N) smiled. “As long as you give it a chance.”

As soon as they reached the end of the dirt road that took them to the trailhead, Paul took hold of all of the bags before opening the door for (Y/N) and helping her out. And the second she went for a bag, he started walking.

“I just want to help carry something,” she called out with a chuckle as he put distance between them. “I brought most of the things.”

“Why would you have to carry anything when I’m right here?”

“Because I want to help.”

“You’d have to catch up to me to do that,” he smirked, walking backward through the trail. “Which is impossible, so I guess I’m carrying the bags.”

“I don’t even know where we should go,” she laughed, taking off in a small trot to reach him. “This is as far as I thought.”

“Good thing you have the best guide then. I’m as good at moving through the woods as I am at carrying bags.”

“Lead the way then,” (Y/N) smiled.

Paul allowed (Y/N) to catch up to him once she renounced the idea of carrying anything. She followed every step he made, wondering what destination he had in mind. The last time she had even come close to being in the midst of the trees of Washington had been when she was a child. Too many times, little (Y/N), Bella, and the Black children would escape to the woods even when Billy and Charlie had warned them many times not to.

Those were the moments she missed the most. When the only thing they were worried about was having fun and keeping their escapades from their parents. There were no complicated feelings or uncertainty in their relationships. There was no confusion or pain. No ill will or misguided intentions. They were just kids trying their best to make the most out of their summer.

When Paul finally came to a stop, (Y/N) felt a sense that she had been in that very spot before. From the rays that peeked through the treetops that reached each other to create a covering to the flat expanse of grass; from the quiet pond to the rocks that bordered its shore. She could bet almost everything she had on the fact that, if she hadn’t been there, she had seen it before.

“This is perfect,” she found herself muttering. “How did you know about this place?”

“I told you I was the best guide for these woods,” he smirked. “I know all of the best spots in these woods.”

They settled close to the pond, one of the only places the sun shined onto. In the cold of February, the warmth made that place that much more perfect. She straightened the blanket onto the ground, setting the food in one corner and the paint supplies in another, leaving the center empty for them.

(Y/N) sat first, pulling item after item from her backpack, setting them in between her and where Paul sat after. He watched her every move, curiosity filling his eyes. Especially as she handed him a piece of canvas paper and a set of brushes.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked as he eyed the items in his hands. “I can’t paint.”

“You don’t have to know how to paint to just have fun painting,” she offered. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just get very quiet and in my own head when I paint, so I thought it’d be good for you to have something to do while I basically disappear for a while.”

“I’ll give it a try then,” Paul smiled, taking back the items (Y/N) had reached for. “But you have to promise you won’t laugh at it.”

“I promise.”

The younger Swan had not been lying when she said she got quiet. As soon as her brush hit the canvas and she felt inspiration rush through her, it was as though she was by herself. Her hand moved before thoughts could fill her head. She couldn’t see or hear anything but what was coming to life in front of her. Stroke after stroke, color after color, her painting was the only thing she could think of.

Before (Y/N) knew it, an hour and a half had passed, and her painting was done. As she slowly came back into the present, she looked up for the first time since she had sat down. Paul was staring at her with something in his eyes that was there every time he looked at her. Even if she didn’t know what it was, she knew that it made her feel good.

“Hi there,” he said with a slight chuckle. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d disappear.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, growing red with embarrassment. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Nah, you’re good. It was honestly fascinating,” Paul smiled. His brown eyes looked like they were on fire under the orange sun, drawing her in like nothing ever before. “What were you working on?”

“Show me what you did first,” (Y/N) responded, shielding the canvas from his line of sight.

“It will definitely not be as good,” he frowned. “I was not blessed with this kind of artistic talent.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. Show me.”

He turned his canvas paper slowly, revealing a painting that was amateurish at its best but still adorable. It seemed he had drawn the view before him. A striking blue pond with vibrant green grass, fluffy trees that met by their branches with thick dark trunks, and what seemed to be the shape of a girl looking down at a piece of paper. Anyone would have thought that a child had done it, but it made (Y/N) smile so hard it made her cheeks hurt.

“Please don’t laugh,” he said sheepishly. “I told you I’m not good at this.”

“No, it’s cute. I love it. I don’t know how, but it’s very you.”

“Very me? You mean painfully childish?”

“Oh god, no!” (Y/N) quickly corrected. “It’s fun, it’s vibrant, it’s… it’s present. Sure, I can tell it’s by a beginner, but it still speaks to the way you view the world. And it’s beautiful.”

“Woah, well, I never thought of it that way. Much less that you could say so much of such a basis painting.” A smile spread across his face as he looked at his work with different eyes. They were kinder now, appreciative of the art he had made. “Now, let’s see yours.”

Once he asked again, she turned the notebook, careful not to smear whatever parts were still wet. Paul’s eyes opened big, and his mouth fell open in amazement. On the sheet, a dark grey wolf howled back at him. Its fur was completed with a mix of yellows and oranges to give it dimension, and its head was raised to the sky as it called out. She didn’t know how she had such a vivid image of a wolf in her mind, but she loved how it had turned out.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing!” Paul exclaimed as he took the notebook to inspect the art closer. “I knew you could paint, but I didn’t know you could paint like a professional.”

“I would hardly call myself a professional,” (Y/N) smiled. “And it’s been years since I’ve actually painted anything. But weirdly enough, I have been able to get the image of this wolf out of my head since I got to Forks.”

“That is weird,” he coughed awkwardly. “But it’s a beautiful painting, (Y/N).”

“Keep it,” she offered. “I will probably paint many more if it’s the only source of inspiration I’ve gotten in a long time.”

“I couldn’t. It’s your work.”

“And I want you to have it,” she insisted. “Please.”

“You’re twisting my hand, but fine,” he said with fake nonchalance. “It’s really good, though, (Y/N). You’re really talented.”

“Thank you, Paul. I’m just glad it’s something that ties me to my mother.”

“What do you mean?”

(Y/N) sighed before she answered. It was a topic she had never brought up to anyone. She had never felt like she could. Not to anyone close to her, at least. “I don’t know,” she breathed. “I guess I’ve always felt like I’ve needed to fight for people’s attention. Especially my parents. Everyone just seems to gravitate toward Bella, and I’m always left in her shadow. As we grew older, I found anything artistic came easy to me, and it’s one of the only things I have over my sister.

“And I know it sounds bad, but it made me feel good that she was bad at it. My mom would always go through some moments when all she wanted to do was paint or knit or whatever, and she’d always look for me when that happened. So, I made sure I would always practice so that she would keep asking me to join her.” (Y/N) could feel tears prickling in her eyes, threatening to spill as she finally said out loud what she had been keeping inside for years. Her head fell as she stared at her fingers, her attention falling on a little piece of skin that had lifted on her thumb. “With my dad, it’s a bit more difficult though. I feel like we get along well, but right now, he’s worried about Bella, and that takes up a lot of space in his mind. And somehow, I just keep falling through the cracks.”

“You should never have to beg for anyone’s attention, (Y/N),” Paul said, wiping away a tear she had not felt fall. “Have you ever told them about this?”

“No,” she answered sheepishly. “And right now, it’s not the best time. Bella seems to be getting better, and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize it.”

“But…”

“It’s okay, Paul. Really. I’m used to it by now,” she smiled as she dismissed the topic. “Now, let’s open up that lunchbox. I’m getting kind of hungry.”

She handed Paul one of the sandwiches as she placed the rest of the food and drinks between them. Not many words were exchanged between them as they ate, the boy downing most of the items at a surprising speed.

“So, tell me about your Great Gatsby assignment,” (Y/N) said, breaking the silence. “Maybe I could help you with it.”

“Well, I’m supposed to pick a central theme in the book and write how it’s presented in the story. But I’ve only gotten as far as the cover page, and the paper is due Monday.”

“Paul! You should be at home working on it! You made it sound like you had a lot more time to finish it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Okay, well, I could tell you one of my favorite themes. But I don’t know how interested you’ll be in writing about it.”

“Can’t be any worse than I already have,” he shrugged. “So, go ahead. Tell me about The Great Gatsby.”

“Well, I’ve always found the use of love and romance in the book very interesting,” she started, setting her food down on her lap as she got into what she was saying. “There’s this big debate on whether Daisy actually loved Gatsby, but I don’t think that’s the right question. What we are looking for in the story is whether Daisy loves Gatsby more than she loves wealth and status. Which, spoiler alert, she does not. Regardless of how Tom treats her, she stays with him because of what he can give her. She may have been infatuated with Gatsby, but the second something better came along, she forgot all about him. Until he shows up with money, and suddenly he’s at the top of her list. But new money can never be as strong as old money.

“Now, there’s the question of whether Gatsby is in love with Daisy, which is a completely different side of the same coin,” (Y/N) continued, settling more into her position. “I would say he isn’t. He is in love with this idea of Daisy that she simply is not. She’s cold and materialistic, and she’s only driven by what others can give her. She wants an easy life that she knows she will never get from Gatsby. Sure, he would never hurt her or cheat on her like Tom has, but she can never part with the simplicity she gets by staying with Tom. The Great Gatsby is painted as this unfortunate romance, filled with forbidden love and circumstantial obstacles, but truly it’s about a cunning woman that loves money and excitement more than she loves the men in her life.”

At that moment, (Y/N) didn’t note the irony of the story and how closely it related to her own situation. She didn’t feel like a Gatsby or a Daisy, much less did she see how she had her own version of Tom. But Paul drank each of her words like they were honey spilling from her lips. Not because he particularly cared about the story but because she loved it.

“You know what, you’ve actually convinced me to read the book,” he smiled before taking the last bite of his sandwich. “Don’t know if I’ll finish it by Monday, but I will definitely try.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh as a dollop of mayonnaise smeared on his cheek. She tried to point out where it was, but his comically outstretched tongue could not get to where it was. “Here,” she chuckled. She pulled a napkin out of the bag and wiped away the stain as they laughed. “Much bet…”

Suddenly, a rustling startled them, followed by laughter. For a moment, (Y/N) had forgotten that she was in the middle of the woods and that anyone could walk by at any moment. The pair got up on their feet, cautiously following where the sound came from while shielding themselves from view. But nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see.

Bella and Jacob were coming down the trail, walking side by side as they talked and laughed. They had no idea they were being watched at that moment, and they were acting as much. Jake offered Bella his arm after she buckled in her step, and she gladly took it. And all she could think of was how that should have been her; that Bella should not have been the one to be holding onto Jake.

At that point, (Y/N) couldn’t hold her tears back anymore. It seemed that Jacob had decided that their relationship was over, and he was gladly moving on with the person that was closest to her. It made her heart wrench inside of her chest, shattering whatever hope still remained inside her. She didn’t know when it had happened, but her knees gave up on her, and she could only stay up by the hold Paul had on her.

But she couldn’t blame her sister. Not entirely, at least. (Y/N) hadn’t confided in her sister about any of the problems she’d had with Jake, and they had been friends long before (Y/N) had come back to Forks. Still, she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the fact that her sister would lie to her about spending time with her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend?

Paul made a move to walk toward them, possibly to try and confront them, but (Y/N) stopped him, pleading with her eyes to wait until they were gone. “Why didn’t you let me go after them?” the boy asked the second the others were out of view. “Don’t you want to know why he’s been avoiding you and why the hell your sister is with him?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she sniffled. “Jake made it clear that he didn’t want to be with me if I couldn’t get Embry to leave you guys, and he’s just making good on his promise. And Bella doesn’t even know about all of that. He definitely didn’t tell her.”

“Then, why didn’t you expose him to her? Don’t you want her to know what he did?”

“(Y/N)…”

“Just take me home, please?” she asked. Her eyes were filling with new tears, and her lips quivered as she tried with all her might not to let them fall. “I just want to go home.”

“Alright,” Paul conceded.

They packed everything in silence, the air around them shifting and thickening. Long gone was the comfortable sunny day, now replaced with a coldness that seeped through their bones. All (Y/N) wanted now was to go back home and sink into her bed sheets. Seeing Jacob and Bella together had hurt her a lot more than not seeing him at all.

Next ->

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libraryraccoon · 1 month

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Kk so I am too lazy to write on my own but I have come up with a pretty good day dream scenario that you can write for ( I might also do it but maybe not).

But a police officer with a strong sense of justice goes to hell and starts trying to organize after spawning in one of the worst areas in hell, even the overlords are hesitant to go in there. But as they gain more and more power the area to clean up expands.

Their really not a bad person , one of the only reasons their there is because they had premarital sex . ( They banged someone's wife when drunk).

Was killed by the husband by a shot in the chest. Now resemble a fox because of their wit and inganuty.

( in sry if it's too specific but you can cut out anything u don't want)

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message from Raccoon : I try to write a police officer!reader, but i'm pretty sure it's bad.

TW : Reader is in Hell 2 years before the series, 🟣 (one time mentionned), violence.

General Headcanon

In your lifetime you were a police officer, and a good one at that.

But unfortunately, one day you died and arrived in hell.

The person you loved was cheating on their partner with you. They didn't like it and killed you.

You are now in Hell.

Hell sorely lacked justice, but it's okay, you will rectify it.. :)

Vox didn't like you. Like, really.

He heard about you after you nearly beat Valentino to death.

Why did you beat Valentino ? Because he was a 🟣, forcing people to prostitute themselves, and more.

You also beat Velvette a bit because she created the love potions.

So yes, he didn't like you.

He start to hate you when you broke his head/tv when you saw him manipulating people..

It's hell ! What did you expect ?! Everyone manipulates !

A violent police officer. This is what you were.

You killed everyone who did things against your morals... in one month you killed more than the exterminators ever did.

Adam sees you as a sort of rival/person on his level.

Alastor find you entertained.

You were the only one in Hell with a moral, so you were interesting.

He also finds it very interesting that you manage to beat 3 Overlords and that 2 Overlords (Carmilla and Zestial) consider you their equal.

He wanted to come talk to you, but he decided not to after seeing you kill a demon with an angelic weapon because they were cannibals.

Compared to what you might think, he have a sense of self-preservation.

When you arrived at the hotel, as part of security, Alastor was a little scared..

Especially when you pointed your gun at his forehead, where the hunter had shot, killing him when he was alived.

Bonus point if you are a dog demon, he is really scared and wonders if you want to reproduce his death.

Husk love you and love the fact that you can scared Alastor, he live for seeing that man being your victim.

Niffty love you, she think you are a real bad boy ! RIP

You and Vaggie get along well, you both know that not everyone can be redeemed (looking at Alastor from a distance) and you know how fucked up Hell is.

But you help Charlie because some still have a chance to redeem themselves (looking discreetly at Sir Pentious).

Sir Pentious was afraid of you at first, but in the end he start to like you.

You always get him out of the worst situations, I can imagine that you saw Vox try to use his power on Sir Pentious when he was a 'spy', and you directly destroyed the watch by throwing a knife at it.

Sir Pentious didn't even notice you were here-

After that, a long conversation followed about why we should not harm the Hotel and its residents and avoid the Vees.

Sir Pentious thanked you very much for that by the way.

After that Vox received a little visit from you..

If it wasn't for Charlie stopping you from killing him, he would have died instead of just being injured/broken.

Vox spent a week in repair/hospital.

Angel Dust adores you.

Every time you accompany him to work, strangely Valentino gives him the day off..

Yeah, he takes you with him whenever you can.

Even if you hate the Overlords, you are one of them.

Overlord D/N (demon name), the Police Officer of Hell.

Carmilla loves it when you are at meetings, the other Overlords (*cough* Vees *coughs*) are always calm when you are here.

You 🤝 break into Lucifer's house.

Yeah, because well before the hotel, 3 days after your arrival, you break into Lucifer's house.

Why ? Because you found unacceptable that he didn't manage Hell and let the demons do all they want.

You didn't expect to find yourself faced with a depressed father whose wife left 5 years ago and who he no longer really has contact with his daughter.

You had to play therapist and friend.

Literally you were giving him therapy sessions in exchange of him letting you stay at his house.

You don't even have a degree in therapy.

Lucifer considers you as his lifeline. He clings to you for dear life, metaphorically and literally.

Hurt this man and the next day you will find his corpse-

Is this a healthy friendship ? No, but are you going to ignore this fact and pretend everything is normal ? Yes.

You have changed his point of view on demons, in the sense that some, not all but some, can be redeemed.

I headcanon that you repaired Charlie and Lucifer's relationship, and that before the series.

Greatest dad didn't happen, sorry everyone.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel vaggie #vox hazbin hotel #valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #husk #husker #niffty #alastor #angel dust #hazbin hotel adam #Raccoon is writing

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 6 months

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you do historical au right? So how about a Villainess who actually is a regresser but she saw too much hardships in her previous life that this time she's all set on herself (you can add revenge or not if you don't want). A tyrant disguised saw her real self which is extremely kind to general public (she built orphanage, hospital and schools for her people) (she's the heir but got scammed in previous life, so she used all that knowledge to get even more riches with beneficial businesses so she's practically richest aristocrat). She's evil and rude on the looks (because she hates limelight and does all good will anonymously). So yeah. The tyrant is real deal evil and he's obsessed with our Villainess now. Oh dear. What a plight..

Sorry for the request being all over the place, i didn't know how to put it better :(

Yandere! Villain x Regressor! AFAB! Villainess! Reader

Anon, you know how to capture my attention. And the request is comprehensive, don't worry!

Another historical AU for the roster. This time, rather than starting off with the villain, let's start of with the MC/you! (Because most of the time it doesn't really focus on the ML now, does it? Hope you don't mind.)

Yandere! Villain name: Eros

You don't remember how you got here, except for dying by a stupid woman who can't aim for jack shit.

You just got home from a grueling day's work. Always getting ahead of yourself and working yourself to the bone just to please your boss who's a major asshat, and loves when his employees curry favors with him.

It's a dog eats dog world, so you curried favors with him.

You're his favorite employee. Always giving you snacks and an extra day for your vacations. But that meant working harder than what's needed. Overtime, going home late, it drained you. But hey, it's worth it.

Yet, this wouldn't happen, and you would still be living like a young princess if it weren't for the damn mistress your fiance, the crown prince, has.

Elysia, a daughter of the baron, spent the night with the crown prince, Yuno. Earning the affection of the prince since...

Actually, you don't remember how Yuno became infatuated with Elysia.

Is the fuck really that good that Yuno neglected his fiancee?

And you, the daughter of the second Ducal household (who's not related to the royal family, of course) was blinded by rage and betrayal that you made Elysia's life a living hell.

Erm, why not the crown prince's too, then?

Remembering your past life made your head hurt. From the cliche love story down to the way you were treated made you scream to the oblivion.

After all, after Yuno figured out how you treated Elysia, he made your family kick you out. Powerless against the royal family, they had no choice but to exile you.

You got employed by your employer by then, an eccentric man who spoke of other worlds called 'Earth' and is bringing 'modern day capitalism' here. Whatever that means. But hey, he developed these things called 'cellphones' that made him skyrocket with money.

He's a weirdo, but at least he's easy to please.

But the bitch Elysia "accidentally" blasted light magic to your way, killing you instead of an assassin. Great.

But, then, you're only the minor villainess. The main villain was someone named Eros. The other Ducal household and your father's rival.

As young as 16, he already conquered the ducal household he's in and then, 6 years later, he had wealth rivalring that of the royal family's. Heck, maybe even surpassing it.

"Hello? Where's the checks and balances of this world?" That's what you usually ask yourself.

You never saw him outright, since he's always been so busy. But you clearly remembered when you're in and out of a coma back then after you got struck with the magic, a war broke out due to him.

Fortunately, you regressed into a baby still, so you could avoid being engaged to Yuno, and being involved with Elysia.

Growing up again with your mature mind was weird. Unlike last life, you weren't a brat, but a proper, cold, and an unattainable standard of what a noble woman should be. Well, if you exclude the coldness and the bitchy attitude sometimes.

In all honesty, your family loved you dearly. A clear contrast from your last life. You're a role model, perfect in every way. Beautiful, smart, talented, and shows clear interest in politics and business.

The previous life, you were only a mouth to feed with a pretty face and a political pawn to integrate yourself into the royal family.

And as usual, you got engaged to the crown prince, much to your dismay.

Yuno was easy to read. He doesn't like clingy women, and he likes the chase. He's dumb, and only knows how to spend money.

"Ah, he's worthless."

What did you saw in him in the previous life, really?

Since you were unattainable to Yuno, he became attached to you. Wanting to conquer you.

And you always returned his advances with a flick of your fan and covering your face with a glare with your sharp eyes.

You're the thorned Rose of the Kingdom. Beautiful, yet prickly. It brought you to the limelight, but also, not. Due to you being closed off, news of you rarely get out.

So in the free time you had, you always disguised yourself with your dark magic and filled up your own coffers with the help of your knowledge of business last life (from your employer.)

You built hospitals, made schooling accessible... You were basically the saintess rather than Elysia.

Oh, did I mention that Elysia, with light magic, was the saintess, and you with dark magic was the prophesied Villainess? It's complicated.

But right now, with Elysia failing to bed Yuno in his crown prince coronation, due to him being only attached to you, you were free to do what you want while thinking of your next plan.

What you didn't know is that a certain pair of crystal blue eyes followed you.

You walked along the street of the outskirts of the Kingdom, inspecting the newly built school.

You just got out of the ducal household and immediately went here after being confronted by Elysia once more, who "accidentally" stumbled into the chateau and into you and Yuno. Can she get more obvious, really?

You never used your dark magic here in the outskirts since you felt safe in the people's arms. They never judged you, nor used you for your money. They're just glad more and more accessible facilities are being erected by the young lady.

While walking around, you got into the councilor's office who's busy with enrolling the children. He's the chief of the town, and is one of the few people who graduated fully back in the capital.

He graciously accepted the position of being the councilor after you approached him, since you genuinely wanted to help the outskirts.

You saw children happily playing around while the parents lined up, excitedly talking to one another.

When they saw you, they immediately curtsied and said hi.

"My lady! Hello!"

G-greetings my lady..."

"Oh my stars! It's the lady!"

"Look over here, my lady!"

You giggled and decided to mingle with them more, talking about mundane things in life and what other facilities can you put here.

"Okay, so a shopping center, huh? Okay, that's noted. Also, I think a gymnasium would work well also, so that there will be a place where all of you can have meetings, and also have children play."

They all excitedly nodded and bid you goodbye as you went out.

You felt like yourself here in the outskirts.

Maybe you can convince your father to give you this part of the territory, and your brother can manage the main household?

Your thoughts were interrupted by children pulling your skirt to play, cheekily grinning and playfully pushing a ball up to your arms. You grinned and chased them around, roaring loudly like a monster and pretending like you're a dragon.

The giggles and screams of delight of the children filled the lively streets, along the chatter of the townspeople.

"Sir? Are you okay? What are you looking at?"

"..."

Eros' eyes widened, then softened as he saw you, chasing the children around, playing with them and not minding the dirt clinging to your outfit.

He gulped, suddenly feeling his heartrate pick up as he cleared his throat. Red flushed his cheeks, as foreign yet also the familiar feeling of infatuation filled his heart.

The noise that surrounded him faded into the background, and somehow, everything seems so bright and colorful. All he could see is you, and you, and you...

You...

Beautiful, thorned you.

Eros.

The name itself sends shiver down the spine of people.

Of fear? Love? Or arousal?

He's a man of few words, only letting his actions talk to other people.

Such an otherwordly beauty like him garnered unwanted attention since he was a child.

Other than being extremely handsome, he's also very talented with politics and business, also with physical activities like horse riding and hunting.

Due to this, his mother developed a twisted inferiority complex, and also an almost incestious relationship with him.

She always hurled words that hurt his soul and emotions.

Then she'll hug him while saying sorry.

This cycle would continue on and on until he's 16.

It was supposed to be a joyous day, not until his mother forced himself on him.

Disgust, fear, and rage filled his body that time, and all he remembered is awakening his dark magic and consuming his mother.

After that, he was knocked out cold.

When he woke up, he remembered his past life on Earth.

He's a business man of such a high position, CEO.

He clawed out of his way from poverty. Stealing, investing, selling, he did everything just to get out of the clutches of being a plebian.

And, when he struck gold when his stationery business thrived, his genius made it possible for him to talk to investors and convinced them to invest in his work.

God, he's rich.

And once he reached the age of 24, he's a rich man.

Then he died due to being assassinated by his rival.

With now his previous life in his roster, he became a formidable business man. Eccentric even.

By some weird cheat, he developed cellphones.

Something so revolutionary was first met with skepticism, but it boomed in popularity when his friend, the crown prince Yuno, bought and used it.

it was weird, really. Yuno approached him to employ his ex fiancee in his company and take care of her.

Eros, who didn't mind, employed you.

Sweet, lovable you.

It was funny seeing you struggle to curry favor with him. Not used being the one who had to try to get close with him. The way you struggled to hide a frown when he mentioned over time, the way you hide your disdain when he talks about extra work...

God, you're so cute.

He spoiled you in the best he could do. Extra vacation days, snacks, all he could do without being too obvious.

Then you died.

You... Died.

By the hands of his friend, well, ex-friend's mistress.

Elysia.

That damn bitch doesn't know her place.

Then and there, his eccentricity died down, and all he knows is revenge back then.

You were in and out of coma, and seeing you swim between life and death made his heart roar out in pain.

He felt so helpless seeing you pale and vegetative, something that wasn't you.

So, with a soft promise leaving his lips, he waged war in your honor.

He fought blood, sweat, and tears in your name.

All he could think is you.

All he could see is you.

And as he ignored Yuno's plea, he beheaded Elysia.

The damn bitch raised the notion that dark magic users are evil, despite dark magic being only an another element.

She turned the tides on you.

Why should she live?

Yuno also. He betrayed you.

Once the royal family was dead, he brought your comatose body to the throne, and killed himself with you at the throne.

He made you ingest poison, something that doesn't cause pain to your already pained body.

Meanwhile, he killed himself by striking a sword down to his chest, and to his heart. The very same heart that loved you dearly.

Then he woke up,

a child again.

Back in time.

Getting away from the busy bustle of the ball, you got out to the garden and sighed. Letting the cold air bite into your skin.

Dread filled your heart as you realized once more that Elysia was nowhere to be found, and so did Yuno.

Your nerves got to you and you left the scene, overthinking the worse of the worst.

Did Elysia actually bed Yuno successfully?

Albeit just a bit late?

You covered your mouth, shaking dreadfully. The pain of your last life was getting to you once more. Trauma trembling you to the core.

"My Lady? Are you okay?"

A deep voice broke you out of your reverie. Something so silky, smooth, and familiar.

You turned around, your heart pounding as you saw your employer, Eros. He's dressed in noble clothes, gold, black, and blue.

He looks more uptight and strict this time around. What happened? Why does he look like that?

You never connected the dots, since you thought your employer and Eros were two different people.

But this?

Your heart trembled.

"G-greetings, your lordship." You curtsied, fighting back a frown just like how you did with him last life.

"You're still the same as ever."

"What is it?"

"Oh nothing." Eros waved his hand.

This life, Eros was more brutal than the previous life. He exposed his mother, a pedophile who touched him and stole money from the household, letting her get beheaded by a rusty axe in the middle of the colosseum. After that, he joined the interkingdom war, and won it much earlier than before.

He's basically a warlord. A tyrant to his territory who imposed such strict rules that you doubted yourself if this was the same Eros you knew.

You both silently stood in front of each other before he took off his coat and gently draped it on your shoulders.

"It's cold out here, my lady." He whispered. His long eyelashes fluttering as he blinked.

He inhaled your scent, his lips trembling.

He missed you so much.

His precious rose.

He gently brought your hand to his lips, kissing it softly and lingering there, with his eyes screaming obsession.

His grip was strong yet also loving.

It made you blush.

"My Lady, if my friend, Yuno, hurt you, approach me."

Your eyes widened.

"Approach you?"

Eros smiled. His handsome face blinding you momentarily.

"Yes, i'll help you take revenge."

Eros eyes swiftly looked at the balcony up above.

"Like this."

Eros swiftly dipped you and kissed your lips.

God, you tasted so divine upon his lips.

His tongue delved into your mouth, sweeping and tangling with your much more timid ones. He cupped your cheeks, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

His eyes were glaring at Yuno back at the balcony, who was naked on their bottom half with Elysia, shielding you from the scene.

Yuno's eyes widened, and he hastily dressed up, his eyes boring into Eros', and you.

This life, he'll protect you from pain.

He'll protect you from Yuno and Elysia.

He'll burn down the ground for you.

Just say the word.

---------

Hmm, twist upon twists. I love it. HEHEHEHE

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

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dawndelion-winery · 2 years

Text

Hear Me Out

They try hint at their crush on you

Ft. Arlecchino, Capitano, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone

Arlecchino:

She does it from the moment she confirms that her feelings for you are genuine and not just some passing fancy

Which means she's very serious about it and does take slight offence that you're not responding accordingly

Do you not like her back? Are you ignoring her hints to avoid hurting her feelings?

The definition of "please reject me so I can move on"

Is it because you heard the orphans calling her "mum" and got the wrong idea?

Please she's dying to know, she's been bringing you flowers like every other day

Lends you her jacket and hopes you forget to return it so she has an excuse to see you again

Columbina awkwardly patting her back when she stares into empty space in agony when you brush off yet another of her flirting attempts as being friendly

At some point she does ask you to just outright reject her so she can move on

Lowkey wants to go apeshit when she finds out you actually like her too and were just too nervous to flirt back

Capitano:

He has a good rep, so he hopes that improves his dateability in your eyes

He'll bring you cute trinkets he comes across from wherever he goes!!

Would also keep a matching piece for himself so he can imagine that y'all are dating

Also has someone help him take pictures of him should he ever go anywhere scenic and have it made into a sort of postcard for you

He wonders if you ever end up looking at him instead of the view (he hopes you do)

He subtly sneaks glances at you, but not so subtle so that there's a chance you'll catch him and possibly tell him that you're into him too

Ok in all honesty his flirting game probably sucks ass and he'd probably tell you your eyes are like his dog's as a compliment

Please just give him a chance his colleagues are getting sick of his silent brooding when you don't notice how he polished his helmet extra shiny just for you

Childe:

The most obvious of them all please he's clinging to you like he's obsessed

So many terrible jokes that aren't even jokes

"Wouldn't it be funny if we kissed- no? Not even once? Ok haha, no I'm not upset I was kidding."

Unlike Arlecchino, he knows rejection isn't going to make him move on

So he hovers like a dog off the streets that just picked you as its new master

Makes a point to tell you everything he succeeds at, even if it's mundane

Stuff like "hey I made really good waffles, I could cook for you y'know?" Or "Yeah I fixed that door all on my own I'm really handy around the house."

Like Capitano, he brings you trinkets

Unlike Capitano, they aren't always wholesome and may come from the people and monsters he beat up/killed

Brings them to you like a cat presenting their hunt

Dottore:

Makes synthetic human parts that are as identical to yours as possible and compliment them in front of you without telling you they're based on you

"What do you think about these eyes?"

"...yes, they're very...eye-like?"

"They're a lovely pair of eyes, wouldn't you agree? Look at how they-"

Yes, he absolutely will point out how they function to you. Yes, he thinks he's being romantic

So he doesn't get why you don't seem to catch on that he's into you

Did you not realise those were your organs he complimented?

In a way it gives him some weird satisfaction that he knows you more intimately than even you

But he does want you to realise eventually

So he'll walk up behind you under the guise of "monitoring your work" and inhale your scent like the lunatic he is (another trait of yours he'll make sure to remember)

Pantalone:

Isn't it obvious? He spoils you

He lets you use his wallet like a subscription trial

Enjoy it? Consider dating him to extend the privilege duration

He makes it very clear cut to you: he's into you, and he'll take care of you for as long as you're his beloved

He also makes his interest in you very clear to everyone else, so chances are, there's no one else who's dare approach you unless it's another harbinger

And be very clear on this: once you say yes to him, there's no backing out

Even before you start dating, he acts as though you already are

He wouldn't pressure you into anything you're uncomfortable with, but expect an arm around your waist to hold you close to him

Like I said, very clear cut, there's no way you could mistake his affection

Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @ineshapanda

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daisygirlwrites · 1 year

Text

Rookie Mistake

Summary: Alternative title, How You Got Your Call Sign

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, minor character death

Pairing(s): Task Force 141 x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Note: No use of (Y/N). Only description of the reader is that she’s short

a/n: hey there! first and foremost, big thanks to @einno-arko for editing it! please check out her page! it has been a long time since i’ve written a fanfic so do forgive me for how rough this is. it is also 3 in the morning as im typing, woops. also, would love to hear feedback so i can make improvements in future works. thank y’all!

Being short has its advantages at times. For your job as a sniper, you could be placed anywhere without being seen. During your basic and special forces training, where most people are at least a head taller than you, you were taught techniques for someone only your size can pull off.

The man in front of you is probably the tallest person you’ve seen on the field. At least two feet taller than you and all muscle. ‘Tank’, his teammates call him. Truly matches the description. You try not to think about how one of his hands can wrap around your neck and squeeze the life out of you.

Instead, you pull out your knife and charge towards him. He runs towards you, arms up and ready to take a swing. Expecting a punch, you lean your upper body forward, keeping your head low. On your last step, you push upwards with your foot. Tank misses you, his stance uneven and his legs still wide open.

For a millisecond, you thought about slicing the area between his thighs, making things easier for you in the long run. Instead, you stick with the training that’s been engraved into your head. Diving in the open space between his legs, you run your knife through his inner thigh, hoping it’s deep enough to at least damage the femoral artery.

Tank lets out a scream and staggers forward as you slide down on the floor. With his back to you, you push your body up and sprint towards him. The ideal situation is for you to get to him and pull his head back enough to slice his throat. But life isn’t always ideal.

To your shock, he quickly gets up onto his feet and turns around, facing you. As if his strength doubled, he knocks the knife out of your hand and, for a split second, your eyes follow the knife as it flies across the room. That was all Tank needed, grabbing both of your arms and lifting you up. Yeah, you should have just sliced his dick.

It was at this time that the rest of the team entered the room. The sight was almost comical; you being held up, legs dangling like a rag doll. Tank casts a quick glance from the corner of his eye. All four men with their rifles up, pointing towards the two of you, but it was the one with a skull mask that made his body break out into a cold sweat. Four against one are really bad odds, especially with an injured leg.

Tank still has you held out, practically using you as a human shield for the upper half of his body. But with your insistent wiggling and attempts at kicking him, it becomes more difficult for him to keep a grip on you.

He knows that he probably won’t leave this room alive, and he’d rather die than to surrender. Tank goes through his options, looking at the small soldier in his hands. ‘Should have grabbed them by the neck.’ As soon as he makes a move, the men in front of him will too.

“Just drop them mate!” A heavy Scottish accent is heard throughout the room.

Tank stays silent, eyes darting around the room, trying to find the means of escape. His train of thought became illogical. As he looks around his environment, he tries to avoid meeting the eyes of the man with the skull mask. ‘Ghost’ is his name. His dark eyes never leave Tank’s.

If he’s going to Hell, he won’t be going alone. Spotting the window to his right, his body moved before his brain could process what was happening. Tank twists his upper body and, with the last of his strength, he hurls you through the glass

During your time with the team, which was about six months when you first joined, you’ve kept quiet. Never raising your voice and only talking when you’re addressed. So, when they hear you yelp and let out a high-pitched scream as they watch your body crash through the window, they would have laughed if the circumstances were different.

As soon as your body stopped shielding him, Ghost took the shot. He watched as the large man slammed down to his knees, blood running down his face from the bullet hole on his head, before finally falling forward.

Getting thrown out the window sounds fun, besides landing on the glass and the very high chance of death. Any other person would have a couple of broken bones, but it seems like you had lady luck on your side today. For one, the warehouse is only one story high, and you’re all padded up. Without your gear and helmet, there would have been more puncture points from the shards. But the impact from hitting the ground doesn’t leave you unscathed. Something is probably broken, sprained, if not bruised. You don’t feel it now but it’s going to suck ass later. Laying on your side, you look around, trying to not move your body in the process. There are probably hundreds, maybe even thousands, of glass shards surrounding you.

“ROOKIE!” Soap comes running towards you.

You open your mouth, wanting to tell him to be careful but Ghost’s rough voice cuts you off. “Dammnit Johnny, watch out for the fuckin’ glass!”

Soap slows his movements, making calculated hops to avoid the sharp shards. “Heya lassie, how ya feeling?”

Not having the energy for a filter, you responded. “Felt like I got thrown out a window. Fuckin’ hell, Soap, what do you think?!”

Seeing his eyes widen, you immediately regret the words that came out of your mouth. “Holy shit, Soap. I am so sorry.”

He lets out a hearty laugh as he stops before you. He gives you a look over, trying to find any visibly large shards of glass embedded in your body. Seeing as there isn’t any visible, Soap sticks his hand out. Surprised to find how badly your arm is shaking, he gently grabs your forearm and pulls you up.

“You really are Ghost’s mini-me,” he chuckles.

“Huh?”

“Already picking up his humor and stealing his catchphrase.”

“Oh!” You look down, thanking your balaclava for hiding your flushed face.

With his arm under yours, you lean on him, slowly limping your way towards the rest of the team. Price took another look at you, spotting at least a dozen little glass shards that punctured your jacket and pants. “Best to have the med team take them out of you. The heli will be here in five.”

You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning holes into your head. You realize that during your next training sessions, he’s going to roast the ever living fuck out of you about what happened today. Dread begins to sink in.

—

With your left arm bare and the interior of the heli cold, you try to minimize your shivering so that the medic can properly do their job. You guessed that the guys would at least wait until you get back to base before they made jokes, but you were very wrong.

“Rookie, you literally got yeeted out the window.” Gaz was the first to break the silence.

“Yes, Gaz, I know.”

“We should have a contest to see how far each of us can throw her.” Soap barked out, joining in on the teasing.

“I would prefer not, Soap.”

And it went on for a little while longer, and you, again, were thankful for having your balaclava on so they wouldn’t see that you’re dying on the inside.

“Probably gonna stop calling you Rookie now.” Much to everyone’s surprise, they turn to Ghost.

You tilt your head, confused, before he continues. He stares at you, the heli quiet besides the hum of the wings. A beat later he speaks up again, “I think I’ll call you Crash.”

You follow with an immediate, “Oh hell no.”

At this point, Soap and Gaz are giggling like schoolgirls. Price turns away, lips pulled tight but his shoulders shaking up and down in muffled laughter. Ghost’s eyes narrow, but you can tell he has a smug grin under his mask.

“Crash it is then!”

“Don’t encourage him, Soap!”

“Sorry lassie, it’s law now, we outrank you.” He smiles at you.

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you let out a quiet chuckle. Lifting your head up from your hand, you quietly say, “Fine. Just don’t tell anyone about this”

You watch Soap nod and Gaz give you a thumbs up before you pull down your balaclava, giving them a smile.

#daisygirlwrites #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #price x reader

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reveluving · 4 months

Text

mother knows best ; phillip graves x reader x jeff sadecki

summary: mama knows love when she sees one. or three.

warnings: mostly Phil & Jeff’s mom’s POV, mentions of angst (teen!Jeff cheating but not on you, family fights, parents passing away), very tiny allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), loads of fluff towards the end, Mama Denise is yours and her boys’ number one fan 🩷

a/n: thought I’d use this chance to write this after this ask! this is based on this lil' post! I know Jeff’s mom is named Linda but this is about him and Phil, a.k.a. my mind, so say hello to Mama Denise! pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» interested in more of the series? find it here & here!

Denise Baker has always been a sweet lady. The epitome of a Southern’s hospitality. Married twice, first to a man named Danny Sadecki, then the second being Tom Graves after Danny passed away. They were good people. The best, feeling grateful each day for giving her the best gifts a hopeful mother could ever ask for.

Two amazing boys.

Keeping their last names rather than changing them to her maiden name was instinctive. At a one-year-plus age gap, Phil took after his mother’s Southern twang whereas Jeff followed his stepfather’s general American accent. They grew to be one happy family, and the brothers, despite their differences in interests and personality, would fight tooth and nail for one another.

But since Tom’s passing, the boys have been less lively, and understandably so. No matter how well they hid their sadness behind innocent smiles each time their mother was in the room, she could see right through them. She didn’t know what she did to earn such sweet boys, always attentive to their Mama at a young age, but she had always hoped to see the fire in them return someday.

That was until they met you.

You and Phil were the same age, just beginning middle school with his brother somewhere a little further from the Bakers’ than the town’s high school.

The brothers had been waiting for their mother to pick them up when you slid next to Phil in the waiting chair. It was raining cats and dogs in Wiskayok, so you had to squeeze yourself into the bus stop to avoid getting drenched.

“Sorry,” You squeaked with a guilty smile when your shoulders touched.

Phil was beyond the age of believing in cooties, plus, he and Jeff were a mama’s boy, and she didn’t raise a woman (girl?)-hater.

“S’okay.” His smile was half-hearted, a little miffed that he couldn’t get to the stand in time when it began raining, and at this point, Jeff had noticed your sudden presence. They’ve seen you before, especially Phil. You always sat in front of him in class, mostly seen with full of life and blinding smile with a missing tooth.

“Your mom’s coming late, too?” Phil knew he didn’t have to make the conversation any longer than he’d like, but he had no reason to do that with you. You were so… nice, and yet, so respectful. Always giving him a wave instead of barging into his personal space bubble like a lot of his classmates did.

Plus, his mother was already thirty minutes late, what was there to lose?

“Yeah. My brother and I have been waitin’ for a lil’ while,” He replied with a shrug, pausing for a second before asking, “You?”

“Yeah, same,” You responded, though more lighthearted than he was, kicking your feet as you looked at the road, “It’s okay, though. Mom’s always busy. They’re probably tired. So long I’m not alone here, I’m not scared to wait for my mom.”

There you go, with your smile again. Phil couldn’t help but smile back, it was tiny but you could see the slight quirk of his lips. Jeff, too, found your positivity infectious and had been listening.

He had joined in on the conversation moments after. It was fairly light, with Jeff doing most of the talking, but that didn’t mean Phil wasn’t listening and chiming in once in a while. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when Denise came, rushing over to her boys with an umbrella and endless apologies.

You were ready to say goodbye to the two and resume waiting on your own when Denise approached you with a motherly look.

“Hi, darlin,” She crouched in front of you, with Jeff and Phil at a perfect height as they stood under her umbrella, “I’m Denise, Jeffrey and Phillip’s mama. What’s your name?”

You were a lot shyer with her, considering she was an adult, but you trusted her enough with your name since you kinda knew his youngest.

“That’s a beautiful name,” Even with the heavy rain, her soft-spoken voice was hard to miss, “D’you know when y’mama will come pick you up?”

You shook your head, telling her that with your mother working at a busy cafe, it could vary. And like you told the boys, you were alright with waiting rather than daring to walk home since the bus stop was always full. Still, Denise, ever the kind-hearted woman, offered to drive you to your mother’s workplace.

Denise understood that you were wary and good on you for being careful, but to her surprise, Jeff and Phil were nice enough to reassure you. And whether you agreed because of their mother’s gentleness, Jeff’s natural talent to make you feel comfortable with all three of them or even the hint of promise in Phil’s eyes that everything was going to be fine, Denise was glad you did.

Your mother was extremely thankful, even offered to pay for their lunch for their next visit, but Denise refused and with the two becoming fast friends just as you were with Jeff and Phil, the rest was history.

Though, high school was… eventful, to say the least. While the two of you remained close, almost joined at the hip, you and Phil sometimes preferred backing off as Jeff’s popularity grew. Not that Jeff’s behaviour changed with the two of you, he was still the dorky, good-willed boy you knew.

Although you and Phil may have fought a little with Jeff when he told you about his cheating on Jackie with Shauna. He broke up with Jackie soon after, but his decision to stay with Shauna may or may not have affected your friendship. You and his brother weren’t too keen on the idea of their own friend/brother being a cheater after all.

Jeff especially hated it when it rocked what the two of you had. He was dumb enough to think ending up with Shauna or Jackie would make him forget his interest in you, and surprise surprise, it didn’t. The three of you stayed close friends, though he promised never to bring up about Shauna around you or Phil at all.

And then, high school ended.

Phil’s decision to leave town for the Marines was not only the biggest shock to the neighbourhood but especially to his own family. Not that he didn’t have the means to be one, if anything, his mother and brother knew he’d be one of, if not, the best ones out there. He just never expressed his interest in military work at all.

Throughout their years as a family, Mama had never seen the two fight so badly until Jeff discovered that Phil had been considering leaving Wiskayok, leaving their mother after they both finished community college. Though their fall-out didn’t last long, no more than two weeks, especially when their mother expressed her worries and sadness over their rocky relationship.

Plus, Jeff didn’t want what strong bond he had with his brother to end just like that. He cared for his brother too much, and in their moment of vulnerability, he apologized for not doing more in their high school years. When some of his peers saw his little brother as his shadow rather than a person. Phil insisted that he barely cared about them, even flat out said they weren’t necessarily his friends unless it had to do anything with football.

They hugged it out, and Mama was over the moon. Suddenly, the thought of Phil leaving for the military wasn’t as difficult, knowing that her boys were still going to keep in touch, and on a high note, no less.

He spent his last month in Wiskayok with you and your mother with the most mundane of things.

But oh, how Mama’s emotions dipped when you, too, left shortly after your mother passed away.

She couldn’t put it past you for doing so. How could she, when you’ve been nothing but an angel? A one in a million and she’d be damned if she convinced you to stay like a bird in a cage. As much as she and Jeff would love to, insisting that there was something for you in town, but just like with Phil, they didn’t. It was far too selfish of them, and you had so much potential.

And as thankful as Mama was to have Jeff by her side at all times, there was someone else.

Shauna.

Shauna never sat right with her, no matter how far she was ‘willing’ to go to get to know her future mother-in-law better. Though the smile she brought out of Jeff was nowhere near as big or as wholesome as he was with you, there was a hint of guilt for feeling the way she did. Hoping you’d end up with one of her sons.

But she wasn’t the only one thinking as such, but Jeff felt that he had lost his chance when you left.

So, he carried himself again to be a better person, especially when he truly believed Shauna was the one, much to his mother’s disbelief. Hell, she’d seen bigger smiles from him when he was with that Jackie girl before they broke up.

But her boy was insistent.

Maybe, for once, her mother’s intuitions were wrong.

And as the days went by, the possibility of Jeff putting a ring on Shauna grew higher, Mama did her best to accept her as her own. The two were civil at best, and no doubt that was enough for the two.

But the years grew dull for the Sadeckis, and the second Jeff came knocking on his mother’s door at two in the morning, his wife not in sight, she knew she should’ve done more to stop what they had.

It began with petty arguments, with Jeff being the one apologizing to Shauna, despite knowing she was in the wrong or if she began the fight in the first place. Then it became quarrels, something about her nonexistent book club when in reality, she had been meeting up with a man named Adam.

Each time Mama received a call from her eldest, telling her that he and his wife ‘needed space’, she’d cook up a nice meal and make sure his old room was ready with the amenities he needed.

If it weren’t for Jeff’s attempts to calm his mother down, telling her it wasn’t worth the trouble, she would’ve marched down to Shauna’s front door and knocked some sense into her with a rolling pin. How dare she point her finger at Jeff, attempting to invalidate her own faults by saying it was him who cheated first during their years of marriage, thus, giving her the green light to do the same.

Although yes, Jeff has done it once, when he cheated on Jackie, he regretted it. Immensely, especially seeing the disappointment in his mother’s face. Oh, how he apologized to her like he had committed the biggest sin of all, and frankly, he did. And though his mother was dismayed by his dishonesty, she knew when any of her boys truly regretted something.

Boy, never has he wished for things to turn out differently and still, he wanted to work things out, when he tried to show his mother what he saw in Shauna.

And she did, but she didn’t see what she or Jeff hoped she’d saw. The final straw was when his wife—his ex-wife disrespected his mother in her own house. He had given her many chances, forgiving her more times than he could count, but he could not stand for her raising her voice at his beloved mother.

Denise had every right to feel grateful when the divorce happened, but that didn't mean she openly celebrated it in front of her son. But Phil was different, even went as far as having a congratulatory gift sent to their doorstep since he was still on duty. Despite knowing his brother was rolling in dough with his line of work, Jeff couldn’t help but gawk at the gifts, much to his mother’s amusement. A set of cashmere sweaters that probably cost anywhere from half to one grand, complete with a few bottles of fragrances and even one of the finest reds to commemorate the moment. Plus, a personalized rose-gold bracelet for Mama because why wouldn’t he want to spoil her at any given chance?

And though he and his mother did enjoy a few sips after moving back into the Bakers’ house, he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing.

But he didn’t have to wait for long.

The day you and Phil returned to Wiskayok, standing in front of Mama’s door, she nearly dropped to her knees. Not only has she missed her youngest boy, despite his efforts in calling and texting and visiting in secret each time his deployment ended, but she most certainly missed you, too. It was your first time visiting since the very day you left, after all. Phil didn’t take it to heart when his mother scolded him for not telling her that the two of you were colleagues and maybe were together.

In reality, though, she had a feeling that you were still around. Closer than what you made them believe.

There were days when Phil had a chance to call his mother, and she’d suddenly bring you up. Wondering aloud if you were alright, how life was treating you in God knows where, and somehow, Phil’s confidence in his responses, telling her that he was certain you were doing well, she believed him. Word for word. As if she knew he was with you throughout your journey to find yourself, just like he did.

And she’d be right when the universe reunited you and Phil on the battlefield. When Shadow Company joined forces with 141 and Los Vaqueros, not expecting to find the girl of his dreams amongst the chaos and in those years, you laughed, you smiled, you wept and you released yourself for him and him alone. Finally acknowledging what the two of you were afraid to address as teenagers all those years ago.

Phil couldn’t imagine bringing his walls down for someone other than you and though like with everyone else, he still kept up the proud and almost infuriating act, no one else had the privilege to see the more caring, affectionate side of him except for you.

But Mama wasn't the only one surprised by the revelation.

On the first night of your arrival, Jeff didn't talk much, instead, hanging on to your every word. From the very moment you reached the city alone for the first time, till the very day you carried yourself into your team and reunited with Phil. How you even remembered the gifts you were meaning to give him and their mother in the middle of the conversation. And as the night fell, you insisted on booking a hotel not far from the neighbourhood.

Oh, how Mama has missed the old days when she'd tell you to stay over, making sure to call your mother about your whereabouts. While she wouldn’t dream of replacing your mother, it was understandable how her attentiveness for you has skyrocketed, now that she knew you and his son were coming over much more often.

Still, she had conditions, eyeing Phil with a knowing look before telling him that you’d be staying in the guestroom. Still spick and span for hopeful days like these. Phil's cheeky smile was worth a thousand words, knowing his mother had caught on to what type of little games the two of you played. Her eye-roll was good-natured, even letting out a hearty laugh when she caught the embarrassed look on your face.

Throughout your stay, she saw how your relationship with Phil blossomed, and how the more-than-friendly feelings between you and Jeff were beginning to rekindle. How her sons’ true emotions—their true colours were showing in that same very house as it always did, as if nothing had changed. Mama knew there was something more to the loving looks they’d give you whenever you looked away.

And when she saw the three of you hanging out and sitting close in the backyard patio, watching the stars and laughing over a stupid stunt one of them had done as kids, she knew that you and her boys were going to be A-ok.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: we love mama denise. ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

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