#And then time passed and his friend grew up but he stayed the same because ghost

[writingsbychlo]

WITHDRAWAL | theodore nott

summary; theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.

word count; 3007

notes; just a cute, fluffy little piece based on something that I was tagged in about 2 months ago! unfortunately, I cannot find the original post or tagger, but if it's you, please let me know!!

If there was one thing about Theodore Nott that couldn't be denied, it was that he loved with everything he had. 

He loved his friends; he was loyal to a fault and he’d never let them down. He loved his family, he wrote over fifteen letters a week to all his aunties and cousins, and still held onto his mother’s recipe book, even to this day. 

And he loved, adored, his girlfriend with everything that he had. He’d do anything for her, crawl across hot coals if she asked, give up his magic and his money and his legacy, just to make her happy. She’d never asked as such of him, still blushed when he pulled out his wallet when they shopped and smiled brighter than the sun when he gave her a handmade card or something he’d cooked. So, to his eyes, it didn’t seem all that much when he decided to give up smoking for her. 

She hadn't asked him to, never even pulled a face when he smoked. But Theo was damn sick of trying to blow the smoke away from her when she joined him at the astronomy tower, cuddled up to his chest, because he didn’t want that poison near her. He hated watching her shiver on the colder nights, he hated waking her in the middle of the night when he got up to satiate that itch, and he hated thinking of a future where he left her too soon, running short on time, because he ruined himself.

He chucked his last box into the fireplace one impulsive morning, and thought he might go cold turkey. He’d been so moody by lunchtime that he’d almost bitten Enzo’s head off over the way he pronounced ‘tomato’. That afternoon, he’d ditched his classes and trudged through the snow to the floo connection at the Hog’s Head, and picked up enough nicotine patches from a muggle supply store to knock out a fully grown Hippogriff.

He’d torn the packaging off of one in the grimy restroom at the back of the store and slapped it onto his bicep, and almost collapsed from the relief it gave him. It wasn’t nearly as effective as picking up a packet from the newsagent’s stand he’d passed would’ve been, but as soon as his fingers had twitched to pick up a box, your face had flashed through his mind. Your face, smiling at him, your face that morning telling him how proud you were of him when he’d shared his goals in hopes of support, and it was enough to deter him from the purchase.

You were his strength, once again, as you’d always been. 

And truly, you were so proud of Theo. Changing his patches for him every evening, in time with that first one. Reading up on the muggle solutions, and making sure you were fully versed on how to help him. Keeping him busy seemed to help, when he got bored, his eyes started flicking towards the door, and the slight irritability he’d been able to keep a lid on pretty well would begin to flare up. For the most part, he’d been staying at your dorm, in an active attempt to keep away from Mattheo, who wasn’t quite ready to give up his comfortable vice just yet. 

Unfortunately, as the days went on, while Theo seemed to be handling it just fine, you were struggling. The irritability grew, even Draco’s breathing was making you want to snap pencils in half in the library, or throw Enzo off the astronomy tower if he scraped his fork on his plate one more time. You were ravenous, and nauseous, all at the same time. You wanted to eat everything but could hardly hold it down. You were dizzy, and fatigued, and your grades were going to start slipping if this continued, because it had been almost a week since you’d been able to concentrate on any thought longer than a minute, never mind a whole class. 

And now, you were lying in bed, rubbing at your eyes angrily but unable to sleep as you stared at the ceiling. Theo, for once, was sleeping soundly beside you. Since giving up smoking, his sleep patterns had been getting better, while yours were getting worse by the night. Almost a week, and you’d barely gotten nine hours of sleep put together. 

When you shuffled again, pressing yourself a little closer to Theo as you rolled onto your side, he began to surface. The arm over your midriff tightened, pulling you in until your hips were bracketed against his, and he chuckled sleepily into your neck. Burying himself in, he pressed a kiss there, and another, and another. The rough pounding of your heart settled as you clasped Theo’s hand in your own, holding them to your chest as he littered your shoulder with kisses. 

At your sigh, he rolled you over, propping himself up on his elbow and yawning. Shaking his hand free from your own, he stroked the back of a finger along your cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As his hand settled on the side of your neck instead, yours slipped up to cup his jaw, and you melted into the tender love he offered you in the darkest hours. 

“What’s wrong, tesoro? Why are you awake?”

“Why are you awake?” you rebuffed, fingers lifting to comb through his hair, to push it back out of his eyes as he blinked himself a little more awake.

He shrugged, “This is about the time I’d normally go for a smoke.” He murmured, and your eyes flickered to the clock. 

You knew well enough the schedule Theo used to keep while smoking. Your timetable had slowly synched to it over the time you’d been dating. He’d wake up during the night, at some point around two, and disappear for a smoke. He’d take twenty minutes, or thirty if he bumped into Mattheo, and then he’d come back to bed. 

You didn’t mind the disturbance. Not when he’d come back slightly chilled from the night air and snuggle in close to you, wrapping himself around you.

“Actually, this is the time you’d normally come back from having a smoke, and give me my midnight kisses.”

“Is that why my girl is so restless tonight? Because I owe her some kisses?” He teased, leaning down until your noses were bumping, and you could taste the mint on his breath. Normally, he tasted like smoke, not toothpaste, and the shock of his warm lips instead of cold ones made you hum. 

The languid kisses melted the time away, his hand sliding up your shirt, sitting on your ribs and squeezing softly as he lowered himself down, covering your body with his own. Theo had always been your comfort, and your happy place. Being in his arms made you feel safe, and his kisses made you feel relaxed. As he licked his way into your mouth lazily, you anticipated the hazy blur of relaxation that usually followed when he kissed you. 

But, like usual recently, it never came. Instead, when he finally pulled back, and pecked the tip of your nose, he found you frowning, instead of smiling up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustrated at yourself, at your confusion and the growing irrational irritation. “It’s not the same.”

“What’s not the same, bella?”

“Your… your kisses.” Your words trailed to a whisper, knowing he wouldn't understand, and the hurt that flickered across his face made your heartbreak. 

“They’re not?”

“No. I don’t know why.” His lips curled further at the sides, and the look on his face made you want to cry. It made you hate yourself, aggressively, and if you could tear out your own heart and give it to him just to see him smile again, you would. Just another thing you’d been suffering with lately, an overwhelm of your emotions, worse than any mood swing you got when you were on your period. “It’s not you, Teddy, it’s me. You’re still my happy place, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“You’re not a problem, bella. But we should figure it out. I don’t want to… kiss you wrong, and see that look on your face. What’s different, tell me what’s changed?” His sweet words made tears prickle at your eyes, and you sniffed sadly as you looked at him. 

“I love you so much, Theo.”

“I know, tesoro. I love you too.” His thumb smoothed over your cheek, “Tell me.”

“I don’t know!” Your snap made his eyes widen. “You’re just… different. You don’t kiss the same way, you used to get all needy when you came back from a smoke, but you don’t anymore, and you taste different! You taste like mint right now, and it just doesn’t make me feel the same way afterwards.”

Your words were jumbled and hurried, rushed out as you smoked them and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what you meant. Second ticked by into silent minutes as Theo’s wonderful mind ticked and whirred, thinking the problem through, and playing with the information. Then, before you could say anything else, something clicked. You could see it in his eyes, when the gears stopped turning and the thoughts stopped flowing because he’d found the answer. 

Pulling away from you, he sat up, kicking back the covers and letting in the cold air, before moving across the room and shuffling through his gym kit left in the corner. Pulling out a nicotine packet from the box inside, he shook it out, using his teeth to tear open the packet as he made his way back to the bed. Sitting yourself up, you propped yourself in the pillows as he peeled off the plastic backing, and tried to unstick his fingers from it, holding it by the corners. 

“You’ve only had your patch on for nine hours, Teddy, it’s not time to change yet.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and settling in beside you on the bed, legs folded underneath himself. “This isn’t for me, bella. Take off your shirt.” 

Slipping your arm out of your shirt, you pushed it to the side, watching as Theo brushed cotton fibres off of your shoulder, before sealing the patch onto your skin. He made sure it was properly sealed down, flattening it to your skin, before feeding your arm back through the sleeve of your shirt. He smoothed the top back down your torso, pressing a cheeky kiss to your breast over your heart as he did, and sitting back on his legs to wait. 

“Give it a second, then tell me how you feel.” He whispered, the moment feeling entirely too fragile as his hand took yours, fingers linked together. He kissed along your knuckles, his eyes locked on your face, waiting. And the moment you felt it hit, you knew he saw it too. 

It was like a cool, soothing balm over a raw, aggravated wound. It felt like running cold water on a new burn or healing a painful graze with a quick Episky. “Oh, Merlin…”

“I know, tell me about it.” He mumbled, the smile on his face at victoriously solving the problem melting away as realisation set in. “Cazzo, bella, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a nicotine addiction, and it’s my fault. All that time you spent with me at the tower, and the smoke on me, and kissing you as soon as I finished smoking. All your moodiness these last few days—”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, baby. It all makes sense.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and squeezed your hand tighter in the other. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I quit because I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t want my problems to poison you, but it’s too late.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, Teddy.” You demand again, pulling him in, and his mouth collides with yours as he makes a subtle groan of surprise and pleasure. 

His hand gripped the headboard behind you, the other skimming down your side. As you leaned back into the pillows, you took him with you, his body falling over your own, slotting between your thighs as our hearts thudded together where his chest pressed to yours. Your hands slid over his shoulders, skimming down his back, and he moaned again as your fingernails scraped across his lower back as you tugged at his shirt. 

He sat up, letting you pull it off of him, before his arms were back, caging you in on either side as he fell back down against you. Pulling one of your legs up to sit on his hip, he dragged himself away from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down your jaw, to the pulse point on your neck and back up. 

“Merde, bella. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re perfect, Theo.” You smiled, leaning up to steal more kisses from his lips that he was happy to reciprocate, “You’re perfect, your kisses are perfect. I knew it was me, not you. I was the problem.”

“A problem I gave you,” He groaned, his hips rolling against your own as you giggled breathlessly. 

“Yeah, whatever. Now we’re quitting together. That’s the promise we made, we do everything together, right?”

“Damn right, tesoro.” He growled, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw, as he began to make his way down your body. Your fingers were loose in his hair, settling back in the pillows, eyes slipping closed as he kissed along the insides of your thighs, teasingly. Finally, your body could relax, no longer tense and buzzing, but the foggy comfort of the night made your muscles ease into the bed, your body feeling heavy, and you sighed in bliss. 

Theo mumbled something, and you let your legs fall a little further apart, but your grip on consciousness was falling further and further away as the nicotine coursed through your body, finally letting you ease into sleep you’d missed for days.

“Bella,” Theo said, his voice sharper, and you stirred, working hard to force your eyes open, but they’d only made it halfway. His hair was ruffled, eyes wide and lips swollen, but his smirk melted away from his face into a tender smile as he looked down at you. 

“Sorry, what’d you say, baby?” The words slurred out of you, and he chuckled. His fingers unhooked from the sides of your shorts, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “M’sorry, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.”

“S’okay, bella. Never apologise. C’mere, let’s just cuddle.”

Tucking your body into his, you shuffled your hips back into him, and he threw his leg over yours as he held you tight to his body. “You’re hard.”

“It’ll go down, don’t worry.” He snickered, kissing the back of your head. “S’your fault anyway.”

“Sorry…” You whispered, again, sleepily. “I’ll make it up t’you t’morrow.”

“Go to sleep, amore.”

But you’d already drifted off.

It was just as you were closing your History of Magic book, that Theo announced his presence in the common room as he walked in alongside Mattheo. They were loud, and raucous, and thankfully, you were less inclined to bite their heads off for it today. 

In fact, alongside Enzo, you’d been able to catch up on all of the History homework you’d been missing out on for the last week or so, getting you back on track for at least one of your subjects. 

“Patch change time, bella!” Theo announced, making his way over to you as he untucked his shirt and began to undo the buttons down the front. Tugging the tie out of the way, he crashed down ungracefully onto the couch beside you, Mattheo nudging Draco to move up so he could sit down too. 

This had become a regular part of your routine now, and you pushed the edges of his half-unbuttoned shirt aside to reveal the patch sitting on the middle of his left pectoral. Picking at one corner, you peeled it away gently, careful not to tug on his skin as you did, and Theo watched on adoringly in silence as you took care of him. Unwrapping a new patch, you brushed off the spot, before sticking a new patch onto him and smoothing down the bandage. 

He patted it himself, before doing a couple of the buttons on his shirt back up for modesty, as though he hadn't already given half of the common room a show, before he leaned in to peck your lips. His fingers fell to the buttons of your shirt, and he began to undo them slowly. “Your turn.”

He undid just enough to reveal your shoulder, without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of anything underneath, and as he leaned down to begin peeling away the old patch, you caught Enzo’s confused expression. 

“Why are you wearing a patch?” He asked, and Theo laughed to himself quietly as he changed your old one out. 

“Because loverboy here got me addicted too, through kisses and secondary smoke.”

The others burst out laughing, unfettered by your glaring as they made kissy sounds and crude remarks, while Theo buttoned your shirt back up. Your glare turned to him as you caught sight of his smile, and he shrugged, a lopsided smile on his lips. “What can I say, bella? I’m just that good.”

“Oh, shut it,” You smacked his chest, and he took your hand, tugging you forward to cuddle you into his chest as he kissed your temple. 

“I happen to think it’s adorable that as a by-product of how you got addicted, that means you were addicted to me.”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes rolled, and he squeezed you even tighter. 

“You had me addicted to you without any substances at all, bella. Just you.”

“Alright,” You scoff, “Stop sweet-talking me.”

“Never.”

[h4zardousch3micals]

I wanna remake some old oc's

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

When You’re Gone

(Ex!Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You go to one of Eddie’s shows and see him for the first time since you broke up and he’s willing to do anything to win you back. WK: 5.8K

Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning, mention of heart break/break ups, Eddie was kind of dick before the break up but he’s sweet through this entire thing, pining, unprotected sex, fingering, sixty nine, just a lil bit of choking, fluff fluff fluff, lmk if I missed any! 18+MDNI!!

A/N: So I’ve been missing Eddie a lot, I’ve been thinking about writing for him again off and on but the fear that I have from being bullied in this fandom has stopped me. But I guess all it took for me to break was seeing that ASSS so, I offer you this. Idk when I’ll write ST again, maybe it’ll be consistent, maybe it won’t. I guess this is a bit of a trial run. I put my HEART into this, I really kind of poured everything I’ve been feeling the last few months into writing this so that makes me extra nervous. But I hope you guys like it, I love u🖤

You couldn’t believe you let Robin talk you into this. You hadn’t seen or talked to Eddie In months. Not since you stormed off the set of the music video he practically begged you to star in. He was being a gigantic snob the entire shoot. Telling you that “you weren’t doing it right” or “looks like we are going to have to shoot that again, can you get your head in the game, babe?” But the thing was your head was in the game and you were doing every single thing he asked exactly how he asked and yet it still wasn’t enough.

That was just the final straw. He had been acting like the sun revolved around him. Around his music. Around partying and blowing money just so he could brag about the shit he has. He started calling your friends and family back home less and less. Missing date nights. Forgetting anniversaries. He stopped telling you how beautiful you looked any chance he got and treating you like you were his everything because he had so much more than you now. Which you would never be upset about, you were and are still proud of him for every single thing he’s accomplished. But that problem was that he stopped being your Eddie almost entirely.

You hoped that it would pass, that it was just because it was all so new, the money, the fame, the adoration. But after almost two years it just continued to get worse and no matter how much you tried to bring it up to him he just reassured you time and time again that you meant everything to him. With no change. You couldn’t continue to give him everything while it felt like he virtually forgot you existed everyday. So you walked away, even though he was yelling after you, not because he wanted you to stay, but because he needed to get back on set and finish filming. You went back to your shared home, packed your things, and left.

Robin was more than happy to let you stay with her and her girlfriend while you got back on your feet. You couldn’t stay in L.A. without Eddie, he was all you had there. So you went back home to Indiana. To your friends and your family. Where you felt seen and you felt like you mattered again. But that didn’t take away the ache in your heart for him. The entire piece of you that felt like it was missing without him. Eddie had been a constant in your life since you were little.

You grew up together. You were both too stupid to get your heads out of your asses and admit how crazy you were about each other until you graduated highschool but you thought after that it would be forever. It’s always been you and him. You went through every phase, every hardship, every big life event with Eddie by your side. When him and the guys got that record deal you were more than happy to continue to stand by him through it all. But apparently he didn’t feel the same. Which felt like a stab in your chest day after day. You really did miss him so much. But you weren’t even sure if he missed you too.

Eddie was sweating fucking buckets. He hasn’t been this nervous for a show in over a year, going up in front of all those people was a walk in the park to him at this point. But knowing you were going to be here tonight changes everything. He wants it to be perfect. He’s been working on this song for you since you left, just hoping that he would have a chance to play it for you. He didn’t want you to hear it on the radio, no, he wants you to hear it directly from him. He wants to see your face after. He wants to tell you how sorry he is for losing sight of the only thing that made all of this worth it. He just wants you.

Not a day has gone by since you left that he didn’t feel empty. He couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. His favorite restaurants were your favorite restaurants. His favorite movies were your favorite movies too. Your side of the bed being empty made him feel so lonely that he started just passing out on the couch every night to avoid looking at it. He stopped going to parties. Hardly ever saw anyone unless he had to go to the studio or play a show. Tour was awful, you were by his side through their entire debut tour so doing it without you felt like doing it without one of his guitar strings, or his arm.

The fans could tell he was less engaged. His record label was on his ass and so were the guys. He just couldn’t seem to shake you. At this point none of it even feels like it matters if he can’t have you. You’re all he wants and if he has to do all of this without you, if this is what ruined the two of you, part of him doesn’t even want it. A big part. He’s thought about dropping everything and just flying home to beg at your doorstep. But each time he talked himself out of it, not even sure if you’d want to see him.

But tonight? You were going to be here at his show and this was his chance to win you back. He would give it all up for you in an instant, all you had to do was ask and he would do it, no matter what it was. So when Robin called him and asked him to set aside an extra ticket for you he felt like this was the universe giving him another shot. He just hoped you would too.

Your whole body was vibrating as you watched Eddie on stage, your heart felt like it was practically beating to the sound of his music, calling out to him. He looked good, really good, and as emotional as you are you still can’t deny the way your core throbs, and your thighs clench together at the sight of him. His hair was a perfect mess, the tattered at the knee jeans he was wearing fit him like a dream, and were reminiscent of the ones he used to wear, when he was your Eddie. Not the designer ones you’ve seen him in recently. He was wearing the battle vest you guys made in your first apartment before everything got chaotic and went to shit. With nothing under it. His tattooed chest and torso were on display and you noticed a few new additions. But your eyes nearly pop out of your head when they land on the little stick-n-poke heart with your initials in the middle that you gave him when you were 18 was touched up.

You can’t tear your eyes away from it for a good thirty seconds, just as they start to well up with tears you snap yourself out of it, looking up at his face again. This time locking eyes with him for the first time in nearly six months. Eddie’s soft chocolate eyes go wide and his fingers falter on the strings for half a second before he fucking smirks at you right as he picks up on the chorus. He keeps his eyes on you for the rest of the song, before announcing that they only had a few left.

Eddie is trying to focus on the crowd, focus on his chords, focus on anything but you, but it’s damn near impossible. His eyes just keep traveling back to you because he missed you so much, because you looked so fucking beautiful standing in the very front row under the stage lights and you were looking at him in a way that gave him hope. He made eye contact with a few fans, reached down to touch their hands, but no matter what he did he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. When it came time to announce the second to last song he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before turning to address the crowd.

“Hey guys.” Cheers erupt all around you and Eddie smiles, flipping his sweaty hair back, making you and probably every other girl in the room swoon. “Thanks for coming out tonight, you’ve been fucking awesome. This next song is… well, it’s a new song. I mean, it’s new to you guys, I’ve been working on it for a while. So there’s this girl…” His eyes lock with yours again and your heart beats somehow even faster. “She’s here tonight and I really fucked things up with her, obviously some shitty song isn’t gonna erase all of that. But I guess this is just kind of my way of trying to make up for it. Or at least starting to.”

As the band plays the opening notes of the song you immediately notice it’s a lot slower and more melodic than their usual songs. They have a few other songs like this, love songs that Eddie wrote about you, happy ones. But this is nothing like that, especially when Eddie starts to sing. He never takes his eyes off of you as the lyrics fall from his lips, lyrics about how sorry he is, how badly he fucked up, how he misses you so much he feels like his soul is missing. He pours his heart out to you as his deep voice filled with longing fills the venue.

You can’t stop the silent tears that stream down your face, unable to tear your eyes away from his for even a second. Eddie Munson, the love of your life, the beautiful boy who you got to watch turn into an even more beautiful man, is standing in front of thousands of people practically begging you for another chance. And it’s like every dream you’ve had since you left coming true. All you wanted was for him to come back to you and apologize, maybe beg a little. You might be an idiot for holding out hope that he would, but you always knew in your heart that you’d take him back if he did. It might take some time for you to fully trust him again, but if he’s willing to try so are you.

As the song comes to an end Eddie thanks everyone, making the crowd go crazy. Then he announces that the next song will be their last before looking down at you again. The flashing lights dance over the tears streaming down your cheeks but you’re smiling at him and it makes his heart soar. And when you blow him a kiss that he of course catches, putting it close to his heart like he has a million times, he feels like a dorky teenager in love with his best friend again. He watches you disappear into the crowd and his heart falls, almost forgetting that he was even on stage performing, all he could see was you. He could hardly focus through the last song, hastily thanking everyone for coming because he was absolutely terrified that you left without even giving him a chance to talk to you face to face.

You push through the sea of sweaty bodies until you get to the far end of the stage, stopping in front of the security guard, who of course recognized you and let you pass without even glancing at the bracelet on your wrist. You run over to Robin, practically knocking her over.

“Whoa! Slow down dude, are you okay? That was… a lot.” Robin grabs onto your shoulders to center you, her eyes laced with concern.

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m uh - I’m gonna go wait for Eddie in his dressing room.” You bite your lip nervously, avoiding eye contact with her, scared of her reply.

“Oh thank god! I can’t wait to tell Steve the plan worked!” Robin’s eyes go wide as her hand comes to cover her mouth. “I meaaan…”

“You know what? I’m going to bug you about this later, but right now I have to go.”

“Yesss!!! Go get your man!!!”

You snort as you turn away from her, rushing down the hall until you see the door with Eddie’s name on it. You pace the room a few times before sitting down on the black leather couch, bouncing your leg so hard it makes the legs shake. The air feels especially humid as your nerves course through your body, the material of the couch sticking to your bare thighs with each bounce of your knee. You can’t stop messing with your hair, adjusting your top, fiddling your fingers. It’s probably only been ten minutes but it feels like it’s been an eternity when the door finally pushes open.

“Princess” Eddie stands in the doorway, looking stunned. His eyes are wide, and filled with adoration as his large ringed hand comes to rest against his chest. “Hi.”

“Hi Eddie.” You smile at him softly as you let out an almost dreamy sigh. “I liked your song.”

“Yeah?” He takes a few steps forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I missed you. I’m so sorry, I was such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I let you walk away.”

His eyes are sad as he casts them down, looking at his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. A classic tell tale sign that Eddie was nervous.

“And I totally get it if you don’t want anything to do with me still, I fucked up. Bad.”

“Eddie…” you sigh, standing up to close the remaining distance between you. You grab onto his hands, stopping his movements as you look up into his eyes. “Look at me.”

When he looks you in the eyes again his own are brimmed with tears, and his lip is quivering. And even though you’re still upset with him, all you want to do is comfort him. It was like second nature to you.

“I love you.” You say it so plainly, so matter of fact that it makes the tears flow down his cheeks, a heavy sob escape his chest. You grab onto his cheeks, pulling his forehead down to rest against yours. “I love you Eddie.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I miss you everyday. None of this is worth it without you. Everything feels so dull. Everything I do reminds me of you.” His hands come to rest over top of yours as his tears continue to flow, tears of your own now streaming down your face. “Please just give me a chance to make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave it all behind. Never touch my guitar again. Cut off my arm. Anything.”

“Well, you don’t have to go doing all of that…” you chuckle, tilting your chin so you can connect his lips with your own. You pour everything into that kiss, your love for him, your hurt, your anger, your longing. And he does the same. Kissing you like he would die if he didn’t. You only pull away when you absolutely need to take a breath of air. Foreheads still connected as you pant against each other's lips, just inches apart.

“God I missed your lips, princess.” Eddie runs his hands down your face, cupping your jaw. “Missed every part of you.”

“I missed you too Eddie, god.” You kiss him again, this time running your tongue across his plush bottom lip. He immediately grants you access, intertwining your tongues with a groan. Your fingers come up to lace through his curls, and tug causing him to moan into your mouth. His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, his thumbs just grazing that bit of skin between your top and your skirt. You push yourself further against him, moaning when his hands move to grab your ass.

“Baby, wait, don’t you think we should talk more?” He pulls away breathlessly tilting his head back so he can look at you.

“Later. We can talk later.” You take a few steps back, stumbling a little on your heeled boots as the backs of your knees hit the couch, you plop down, pulling Eddie down with you. He puts his hands on the back of the cushions on either side of your head so he can lean down over you, his face inches from yours, his hair almost acting like a curtain around you, shielding you from the outside world. “Kiss me again, please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, princess, I told you I’d do anything, didn’t I?” He smirks at you as kisses you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan as your fingers desperately grasp onto the sides of his vest, pulling him closer.

“Touch me, Eddie.” You whimper, leaning back to look up at him through your lashes, your lips are kiss swollen and your lipstick is all but nothing at this point.

“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to talk before we-“

“Eddie, I appreciate your chivalry, I really do. But you said anything, right? I want, need, to feel your fingers again, please.” And how could he resist you, when you’re looking at him like that? And your skirt is pushed so far up your legs he can see your little lace panties, his favorite pair, if he isn’t mistaken. He would literally lick the bottom of your boots if you asked him to.

“I told you that you don’t have to beg, doll, I’m the one that should be begging for the privilege of being able to touch you.” He smirks, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before kissing down your jaw, to your throat, leaving little nips along the way. “Missed this body so much.”

One of his hands grabs onto the top of your thigh, his thumb running over your slit through the thin lace of your panties pulling a soft moan from your lips.

“Missed this pussy so much.” He grazes over your clit before applying light pressure, rubbing circles on it with the pad of his thumb. “You’re so wet for me already, your body missed me too, huh sweetheart?”

“Yes, missed you so much, baby.” You pull him down further so that his free hand is resting on the cushion next to you and his neck and jaw were close enough to kiss and suck bruises into. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“All yours.” He chuckles as pushes your panties to the side, circling two fingers around your entrance and curling them upwards, stroking them against your sweet spot immediately. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight, practically sucking me in.”

“My fingers were never be as good as yours - ohmyfuckinggod.” A loud moan rips through you and your head falls back against the couch as he starts to thrust his fingers quickly in and out of your dripping hole. His thumb finds your clit, circling it in time with his fingers as his lips attach to your neck, giving you a mark of his own.

“Never have to live without them again if you don’t want to, I’ll worship this pussy everyday until I die if you’ll let me.” Eddie kisses down your chest, using his free hand to push your little tank top and bra down, freeing your tits. He kisses across the tops of them, leaving gentle open mouth kisses on both your peaked nipples before licking between the valley of them. He slides his tongue over so he can latch onto one of your nipples and it sends you over the edge.

“Ohhh fuck! Eddie! I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers as he continues to thrust them deep and fast into you.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl, cum for me. You look so fucking beautiful.” He kisses your cheek before leaning up and pulling his fingers from you. He holds eye contact with you as he sucks them into his mouth with a groan. “Just as sweet as I remember.”

“Eddie, please fuck me, I need you.” Your legs are still spread, your glistening pussy practically calling his name, framed perfectly by those little panties that he loves so much like a work of fucking art. The way your shirt and bra are pushed down under your tits is making them look irresistible. He leans down, resting both of his hands on your knees, and smiles at you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You have no idea how fucking badly I want you right now, but can I take you back to my hotel? I wanna take my take with you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours before sliding it along your cheek, placing a soft kiss there.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” You’re breathless and so fucking horny but the idea of getting to fuck Eddie in a bed, where you would be totally alone, sounded a lot more appealing than fucking him in a dressing room where anyone could walk in.

You grab onto Eddie’s vest and push it off his body the minute the door to his hotel room is shut behind you. You take his face in your hands, your eyes shining as you look up at him while you rub your thumbs across his temples.

“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You coo at him, running your hands down his chest.

“I like your new tattoos… and this.” You run your pointer finger across the band of his pants before tracing the little heart on his hip. “When did you do this?”

“Uh - A few weeks ago.” He grabs the hand tracing along his hip and takes it in his own, bringing it up to his lips so he can place a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was getting this other tattoo and my artist asked if I wanted to cover it up. I laughed at him and told him to touch it up instead.”

“Eddie… you feel heat rise in your cheeks as butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you so bad.”

“Yeah, pretty girl? I told you I’m all yours.” He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back toward the bed so he can sit on the edge of it with you between his spread legs. “Gonna worship this body, show you how much I missed you.”

He grips onto your shoulders rubbing them gently for a moment before hooking his fingers in the straps of your bra and tank top, pulling them down your shoulders. He leans forward, kissing along your bare collar bone as one of his hands snakes around under your skirt to grab a hand full of your ass.

“Missed these perfect tits.” He takes them in his hands, squeezing them, before he grabs onto the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, his fingertips gently gliding over your skin with each touch. He took his time taking your skirt off, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could until you were completely bare before him. “So fucking perfect, baby doll.” He grips onto your ass looking up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Need to taste that sweet pussy.”

“Take your pants off first.” You reach forward and undo his belt before working on his button and zipper, popping them open to reveal his thick cock covered by the material of his boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down to his ankles and you bend down to unlace his boots.

“Fuck, you look so sexy, makes me think about that time I made you hump my boot…” Eddie smirks down at you as he takes your face in his palm and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.

“Yeah, that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, if I’m being honest.” You giggle before flicking your tongue out to run it along the pad of his digit.

“Jesus Christ, get up here before I bust from just looking at you.” Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you back up to your feet before kicking his pants off the rest of the way. He lays back on the bed, patting his chest. “Sit on my face, princess. Your throne missed you.”

You stand there for a moment, just looking at him. He keeps telling you how perfect you are but he doesn’t even realize how truly perfect he is. The way he was smiling at you like you hung the stars, his ink covered arms that are more toned now than when you were younger, along with his more broad chest that’s now nearly covered in tattoos. Your eyes travel down his torso to his happy trail, the v lines on his hips, and settle on the way that his cock is straining in his boxers. He was lying there, so perfect, calling his face your throne, and he is just so your Eddie.

“You good, sweetheart? Or are you hypnotized by my otherworldly handsomeness?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning back on his elbows. You know he’s trying to be goofy but it only makes you even more desperate for him. You climb onto the bed to straddle him, your bare pussy resting on top of his cock, only separated by the thin material of his boxers.

“Yeah, I just really fucking need you.” You grind down on him, pulling a groan from him as you lean down to lick across his lips, sucking on the bottom one before pulling away with a pop.

“Fuck, get up here, now.”

He pats his chest and his tone has you clenching around nothing. He grips onto your ass, jiggling it in his hands before landing a smack on one of your cheeks. You moan as you scoot up so that your thighs are resting on either side of his head with your pussy hovering just over his mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around your legs, pulling you down so he can bury his face in between your legs. He licks a long stripe along your wet slit before circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh - fuckingshit - feels so good.” You moan as he shoves his tongue as deep as he can inside you, flicking it against your inner walls.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl, missed this sweet fucking pussy so much.” He swirls his tongue inside you before he brings it up to your clit again, licking it with the flat of his tongue. He sucks your clit and your pussy lips into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll back.

“That’s so fucking good, yeah, eat my fucking pussy.” You lean back resting your hands on his thighs as you start to grind down on his face. You bring one of your hands to his cock, stroking him through his boxers, chasing him to moan even louder into your pussy. “Fuck, Eddie, I wanna taste you.”

You push yourself up off of his face and he looks up at you with a pout but before he can even protest you’re throwing one of your legs over his head so you can flip around and straddle his face reverse cowgirl.

“Oh jesusfuckingchrist, baby.” Eddie groans, grabbing onto both of your ass cheeks and jiggling the meat of them in his hands. You hook your fingers in the band of his boxers so you can pull his cock free, spitting on your palm and taking it in your hand. “Fuck.”

“Need to taste you too, baby.” You lean down, flicking your tongue out to leave little kitten licks on his tip before sucking it between your lips.

“God damn, princess, fucking missed your mouth so much.” Eddie moans as he uses his grip on your ass to pull your pussy down on his face again, burying his tongue deep inside.

You take him further down your throat, swirling your tongue around his shaft and using your hand to stroke what isn’t in your mouth. Eddie eats your pussy like a man starved, bringing his lips to your clit as he inserts two of his thick fingers inside you.

“Yes, yes, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pull off of him continuing to use your hand to stroke his spit soaked cock. He picks up the speed of his fingers as he sucks on your clit even harder. “Oh god - I’m - I’m fucking cumming!”

Your walls clench around his fingers and your thighs squeeze around his head as your high washes over you, loud moans and the sound of your wet pussy filling the room. Eddie doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him because it becomes too much. He grips onto your hips, flipping you over into your back before covering your body with his own. He connects your lips in a heated kiss, his lips and chin still slick with your wetness as you taste yourself in his tongue.

“Need to be inside of you, fuck.”

“Yes, please please fuck me, I need to feel you.” Eddie uses one hand to grip onto the base of his cock, running the tip through your folds before pushing it inside you. “Oh, god.”

“Shit baby, you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet.” Eddie grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, pushing his hips flush against yours before pulling almost all the way out and slamming into you even harder. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, one of his hands on your hip while the other wraps around your neck just tightly enough.

“Yeah, fucking choke me, missed your hands around my throat, missed you, fuck.” Eddie picks up the pace, his hips smack loudly against yours as the hand on your hips moves down so he can rub circles in your clit.

“Fuck, baby girl, missed you too, missed this fucking pussy. Gonna fill you up, need you to cum for me.” The hand around your throat squeezes just a little tighter as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are gripping onto his shoulders so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if your nails break the skin. His circles on your clit never let up as he tilts his hips so he’s hitting your sweet spot just right.

“Oh - my fucking - fuck, I’m cumming I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vise grip as you run your nails down his back.

“Gonna cum too, baby, gonna fill this pussy up so good. Never quitting you. Gonna marry you someday.” Eddie’s thrusts grow sloppy until he’s pushing his hips flush against yours and emptying inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, rocking his hips slowly as he rides out his high. He lets his body rest on top of yours, placing gentle kisses on your neck. You bring your hands to his head and lace your fingers through his hair so you can lightly scratch his scalp.

“I love you, Eddie.” You sigh, dreamily. “I know we have some stuff to work through, and talk about, but I’d really like to make it work. You really wanna marry me someday?”

“What!” Eddie pushes up on his hands, so he can look at you, a big goofy smile on his face. “Of course I wanna fucking marry you! It’s only been the plan since we were 8 and I gave you that ring I won with arcade tickets.”

“I just… I don’t know, I thought maybe you got sick of me and that’s why…”

“Baby…” Eddie’s voice suddenly sounds a little sad, maybe guilty. “That was never… I would never, fuck. Hold on.”

He gets up off the bed so he can find his vest, he picks it up off the ground and pulls something from the pocket before coming back to sit next to you on the bed.

“Can you sit up for me?” You sit up in front of him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a pout on your lips. “I got this… well, I got this a few months before you left and I was just waiting for the right time, ya know? And honestly it never came because I had my head so up my own ass that I wasn’t making the time. But uh - I want you to have it. Even if you don’t say yes, I got it for you, so it’s yours…”

He opens his hand to reveal a little black square box and when he opens it, sitting inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Set in the middle is a big shiny ruby, bracketed by two little bat wings on each side that lead into the band. It was perfect, you’ve been telling him practically your whole lives that if someone proposed to you with a boring ass dimond you would say no, no matter how big it was.

“Eddie…” Your eyes well up with tears as your bottom lip quivers. “Is that really for me?”

“Princess.” He chuckles, reaching a hand out to wipe away a stray tear that escaped. “Of course it’s for you. It’s always been you. And it always will be. Even if you don’t want me back.”

“Eddie, I - yes.” You smile widely at him, wrapping your hand around his wrist so you can turn your head to place a kiss there. “It’s always you, you’re the only one for me. You have a lot of making up to do… and it might take me some time to get fully over all of this but… I still wanna marry you. It’s you and me, till the day we die, stab a goblin in the eye.”

“Yeah baby.” He chuckles, a few tears of his own streaming down his face. You still wanted him. You were going to take his ring. You were sitting here in front of him more beautiful and grown than ever, repeating the words that you had said to each other as kids more times than he could count. “Till the day we die.”

He pulls the ring from the box and you offer him your left hand so he can slide it on your finger. You both smile widely and teary eyed at each other as he pulls you into a kiss. This one is different, this one is full of promise and hope and it’s like coming home. He rests his forehead against yours as he rubs the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Stab a goblin in the eye.” He chuckles, smiling widely as he places another gentle kiss on your lips.

Taglist: @littlexdeaths @babygorewhore @eddiesxangel @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @hippiegoth97 @jenniquinn @take-everything-you-can

[sabertoothwalrus]

here are some preliminary sketches I had done in my sketchbook for the peepaw chilchuck comic.

I wanted to follow it up with some worldbuilding thoughts I had while working on it, if that sort of thing is interesting to anyone:

- it’d take place 5ish years post-canon

- I changed almost everyone’s hair to show time had passed. Chilchuck and Kabru were the most drastic (I COULDNT STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT LONG HAIR KABRU THAT KUI DREW), Marcille grew out her bangs, Senshi’s beard is slightly shorter, and Izutsumi’s hair is mildly longer. Laios and Falin give me the impression that they’re the brand of neurodivergent that’d pick one haircut and stick to it for the rest of their lives. I almost gave Laios facial hair but idk he’s gotten over his daddy issue enough for that.

- Emertim Chils: I tried to follow both the half-foot and dwarven naming conventions for the baby, so Emer- comes from “emerald” (dwarven names are often gemstones or ore) and -tim because Chilchuck’s father’s first name was Tim :) Dwarves don’t have family names, so Emertim would take Chils, same as Flertom. Usually they’re named after their father but I didn’t wanna name a random dwarf man. thank you Chel for helping name him 🫶💕

- Initially the idea that Chilchuck would keep an entire grandchild a secret was just a joke, but it made sense when I thought about it. I wonder,, would dwarf/half-foot couples have trouble conceiving? Because if so, I’d imagine Flertom may have lost a couple pregnancies. Chilchuck is already such a private person, and I don’t think he’d feel comfortable airing his daughter’s grief like that. They wouldn’t wanna tell anyone until they were sure this baby was gonna make it.

- For the above reason, Chilchuck would absolutely spoil this kid. Not that he wouldn’t have spoiled his grandkids anyway, but I think after all that stress, he’d be extra extra doting. He’d be letting him do things he’d never DREAM of letting his own daughters do. Completely different parenting style.

- I think he’s still too prideful to take advantage of Laios being King (sidenote: is Laios even wealthy??? does a kingdom that sprung up from a previously-sunken continent even have money?? what the fuck is their economy), but like,,, if Laios offered any gifts he wouldn’t exactly say no.

- Izutsumi surprisingly really likes the baby :3 she’d like to take naps with him and he’d like her purrs and she’d have a lot of fun playing with him.

- SENSHI. meemaw mode. That kid would grow up not realizing Senshi isn’t technically one of his grandads. He is FEEEEEDING this kid.

- LAIOS DOES GET TO HOLD THE BABY!!!!!! just. eventually. They don’t actually expect a Tarrare situation LMAO they just wait until the kid is a little less fragile and a little more mobile. I think Laios would be really good with toddlers.

- Chilchuck is very thankful Emertim’s half-foot genes kick in sooner than later because he was getting too big for him to carry.

- Emertim would probably get the extended lifespan. He and Marcille would get to stay friends for a very very long time :’)

- my personal headcanon is that Chilchuck and his wife decide to split. He still loves her and it’s probably still a bit mutual, but after four years of almost no-contact, they decide their communication issues aren’t working well for their relationship. Plus, the Adventurer’s Bible says Chilchuck is renting their old house out to family, and he’d feel bad kicking them out so he and wife could move back in. They’d still be on good terms, and would be good at coordinating when to babysit.

[lvrhughes]

5 + 1 | L. Hughes

Pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none?

Summary: Five times Luke was clearly into you and one time where he finally did something

Requested: No

not my gif!

1

“Come on buttercup! It’ll be fun, you can stay with Luke the entire time!” Trevor’s voice filled the space, urging you to leave your book and chair in the grass to join him and the others on the boat. 

“But I won’t have my book.” 

“You could take your book?” 

“Not with you all, you’ll splash it.” 

Trevor let out an exaggerated groan, his hands moving up to run through his hair while he watched Quinn ready the boat. 

Trevor was the one who had brought you, Trevor being your first friend when you started working in Anaheim. His loud personality was quick to drag you in, and now you could never escape him. Not even if you tried, so when the opportunity arose, you’d always take it to annoy him. 

“Hey buttercup.” Luke’s voice came from the sliding door, his body leaned out just enough to see you and Trevor. “You coming for a ride?” 

“Sure.” The smile on your face grew as the scowl on Trevor’s face appeared, letting out another groan before walking away. 

Your book placed gently where you had been curled in the chair, walking inside after Trevor and Luke, watching the boys leaned over the counter eating whatever fruits Jack had cut up. 

“Hey, hey! Those are for the boat, get your sticky fingers out!” Jack called, jogging into the kitchen from his previous position on the stairs, where he stood for a few too many minutes looking at his phone. 

Luke’s arms went up in a false surrender while Trevor just shook his head, ignoring his friends complaints and continued eating. Reaching for another piece of the pineapple that had been cut before you smacked his hand. 

“Jack said no.” You grinned, seeing the frown on his face. 

“One more piece?”

“No. Wait.” 

From the corner of your eye you could see the smile Luke wore, shaking his head at the scene before walking out to join his oldest brother. Jack took packing the fruit quickly, leaving you to gather your attire for the boat before joining the boys on the dock. Trevor already lounged on the backseat while the three brothers did the work, leaving you to kick the Zegras boy until he agreed to help the Hughes’ ready the boat. 

“We should always have buttercup here if it means that she’ll get Trevor to work.” Quinn commented, passing another item to Trevor for him to put away, but not before rolling his eyes. 

“You are not taking my best friend just because I’ll listen to her.” 

“No, I think we should.” Jack agreed, his arm snaking around your waist pulling your body flush against his from where you stood on the dock, watching the colour of Luke’s eyes darken with his brother's move. 

“Let go of me Jack, you are not the man I would want to hold me.” The words came out quickly, a soft laugh following them at the offended look on the brunette's face. 

“Is there a man you’d want holding you here?” The question came from Luke, his eyes set on you while Trevor’s widened, looking over to the youngest Hughes. 

A moment of silence followed, Luke’s eyes never leaving yours before Jack broke the silence, coughing into his hand to bring everyone’s attention back to the fact the boat was ready now. Luke, who already stood in the boat, held his hand out, helping you into the boat as his brothers united it from the dock. 

Quinn was almost always the driver, and it was no different this time, with him leading the way on the lake and everyone else simply enjoying the ride. It wasn’t until the middle of the lake that Quinn slowed the boat, dropping the anchor before ditching his canucks tee to jump into the lake, Jack and Trevor following in suit. Luke stayed beside you, waiting for your move before making his, waiting for you to take off the clothing covering your bathing suit before he did the same, following you into the lake. 

“Lukey, you’re like a lost puppy.” His brothers played, pointing out the way he’d been following you. 

“Shut up.” 

The day had gone by quickly, setting up wakeboarding right after, watching boy after boy go. Slowly eating the fruit that had been packed until sunset, the slight breeze emitting a gentle chill. Enough of a chill to send a small shiver through your body, small enough no one would notice, but Luke. His movements quick and precise, grabbing the hoodie he wore earlier before motioning for you to stand, slipping it over your frame in one swift motion. 

“Thank you Lu.” It was barely above a whisper, but he heard, the soft smile on his face ensured he did. 

2.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me!” Trevor’s voice echoed through your phone, his annoying pestering that you had taken a job opportunity with the Devils following you to Jersey. 

Where you were now, staying in Jack’s spare room until you found your own place, 

“Trevor, would you just shut up, you play the Devils next week!” 

“But that’s a whole week without you!” His playful groans never ending, leading to you pressing end on the call without warning, ensuring a very upset message from him after. 

Soft knocking on the door grabbed your attention, turning to see Luke standing in the doorway, his tall frame leaned against the frame. His curls lay an unruly mess atop his head, yet still looked perfect. 

“Was just wondering if you wanted any help with anything? Or maybe if you’d like to get takeout with me and Jack?” his voice was always soft, like he was scared to speak too loud around you, but it was nice. 

“I’d love takeout and if you’d want, could you help me find my laptop charger? I know it’s in one bag but god knows which.” He laughed at your words, nodding before walking over. 

He moved in sync with you, checking your carry on quickly before pulling out the cord. 

“Are you serious? I swear I already looked in there!” The laugh he let out at your confession was almost angelic, catching you by surprise and causing you to pause, just listening to the tallest Hughes boy. 

“Lovebirds come get food!” Jack’s yell interrupted the peace that had followed, Luke’s hand hovering over yours as he reached to pass you the cord. 

Luke’s eyes stayed in yours, watching closely as you rolled your eyes at Jack's words, thankfully grabbing the charger from him before throwing it onto the bed. Taking Luke’s hand to lead him out of the room, ignoring the soft blush that covered his cheeks as you held his hand. 

“We are not lovebirds, Jackson.”  The older boy rolled his eyes, returning to shoving the food in his mouth quickly. 

Your hand dropped Luke’s as you sat, taking the middle of the couch, in between the brothers. Reaching for the food Jack seemed to hoard before passing it to Luke, ensuring he got the food too. 

“For not being lovebirds you sure as hell act like it.” Jack mumbled, his words muffled with food, the sound of coughing covering the space shortly after he received a hit to the back of his head from his brother. 

“Asshole!” He yelled back, leaning over your lap to reach his younger brother. 

Your movements were quick, pushing the oldest brother back to the couch, your hand on Luke’s chest as if to keep him from moving. 

“Would you quit it? You’re acting like children, just eat.” You groaned, reaching for the food that sat on the coffee table once more. 

3

“Luke! Have you seen my bag?” The yell of your voice flooded the apartment that you were only supposed to be in for a few weeks, which had turned into nearly a year of living with the brothers. 

“Is it the one hanging by the door?” His voice shot back, progressively getting louder, walking towards your room, where you stood searching for your bag for the night.

The night being one of the Devils media events that Luke deemed he was dragging you to, refusing to go without you. 

His body froze at the door, his steps faltered as he saw your figure, watching your turn and face him. His cheeks reddened, the tips of his ears turning pink at the attention, watching the way your eyes lit up at his sight. 

“You look gorgeous.” He finally mumbled, taking a step towards you, his hands moving out to hold your waist as you stepped towards him. 

“Thank you, Lu.” You grinned, looking up at the boy, letting his hands rest on your waist as yours shifted to his shoulders. 

“Come on, either make out or let’s go!” Jack’s voice cut through the moment, his frame standing in the doorway with a hand on his hip. 

“Fuck off Jack.” The words left your lips with a groan, leaning into Luke’s chest before he wrapped his arms around your body. 

Luke was quick to flip his brother off, holding your body tight against his for the moment while Jack glared, before speaking. 

“We’re coming, go start the car.” Luke urged, motioning for Jack to leave. “Let’s go, Buttercup.” Luke whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your hair, so soft it was almost missed. 

Replying with a soft kiss to his cheek, to which he turned a new shade of red from, you nodded after. Stepping back to grab your phone off the bed before following Luke out of the apartment, grabbing your bag that was hanging by the door. 

4

“Lu?” Your voice was soft, keeping it quiet in fear that the tall boy was in fact asleep. You could see his body turn in his bed at the sound of your voice, a soft groan slipping past his lips filling your body with a feeling of guilt. 

“Buttercup?” His voice was groggy, deep with sleep still as his hands moved to rub his eyes. 

“‘M sorry Lu, just wanted to make sure you were okay, I couldn’t sleep.” The confession had Luke’s heart racing, his mind wandering with the fact you were thinking about him, even if it was because he was injured. Set out for a few games with a sprained wrist and mild concussion, left more time for the youngest Hughes to spend with you.

“Come ‘ere, Buttercup.” He shifted his body, sliding up on the pillows waiting for you to slide in beside him. His arm dropping to pull you flush against him as you approached, earning a soft giggle, making a smile grow on his face. 

“Love cuddling with you, you should just stay here all the time, ‘d sleep better.” 

His words lingered with sleep, covering your cheeks in a flush as the words rolled off his tongue. Shaking your head at the youngest boy as he pulled you onto his chest, laying back down on the bed, his arms keeping you pressed against him. 

“Get out” Luke’s voice was deep with sleep as his arms held you against his body, urging his brother to leave the room. 

“There’s no way you two are only friends!” Jack’s voice full of disbelief, a wide eyed stare sent towards the bed. 

Opening your eyes slowly to watch the brothers bicker, turning your head further into the crook of Luke’s neck before groaning, speaking to jack. 

“Get out would you? Not all of us need to wake up at 5am.”

Jack rolled his eyes, turning away to walk back to his room, gathering his gear for practice. 

“He's so annoying.” Luke groaned, his hands rubbing gently along your back.

“He’s doing exactly what older brothers do.” 

5

“Lu, you’ll do amazing.” You grinned at the youngest Hughes, his hands running through his hair as he tried to ready himself for the event. 

The coaches urged him to give a speech, his body filled with nerves despite his previous speeches. 

If anyone had asked Luke what made him so nervous this time, he didn’t have an answer but he had a guess. And his guess would be the girl who stood in front of him, tying his tie while his hands lingered a little too long on her waist. 

“What if I mess up the words?” 

“No one will even notice, they’ll be too encaptured by your beauty.” You smiled, a blush covering Luke’s cheeks at the words.

“I’m serious Buttercup.”

“And so am I. Luke, you look so pretty tonight and even if you mess up, it doesn’t matter no one cares.” 

 A small smile grew on the tall boy's face, pressing a soft kiss to your hair before nodding. 

“You’re right, I’ll be fine. Wait for me beside the stage?”

“You know I will.” He grinned at the confirmation, tightening his grip on your waist before placing another kiss to the top of your head.

“Can I get a kiss for good luck?” There was a small smirk on his face as he spoke, a blush covering your face. 

“You know you don’t need it.”

“But it’d make me feel so much better.” 

“Maybe after your speech we can talk.” 

The smile never left his face, holding the conversation easily, flirting remarks made back. Even after you pushed him away, leading him out to the public for his speech, leaving him at the stage alone the smile never disappeared. 

As expected, his speech was perfect. Without missing a beat or a single mistake, Luke made it through the speed earning a standing ovation from his crowd. His movements were quick to get off stage, quick to find you waiting near the stage like you said. 

“You did so good, Lu.” 

He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, lifting you and spinning, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

+1

The return of summer has come quickly, your first year with the devils over as you met with your boys at the lake house. 

The lights were off in the house, Quinn’s car parked out front as the two other Hughes’ pulled into the driveway. 

Your hands running through Luke’s curls to wake him, his head on your shoulder as he slept through the drive. 

“Lu, we’re here.” Your voice was soft, whispering the words to him as he groaned. 

“Was comfy.” He moaned, curling further into your body, as much as the car would allow. 

“get your ass out of my car Luke or I’ll get Quinn to throw you in the lake.” Jack’s voice interrupted, making Luke groan again before moving. 

“Asshole.” He mumbled, his body moving to slowly get out of the car, stretching as he stood outside. 

You were quick to follow, sliding out behind him before heading for the trunk of Jack’s car. Luke following a few steps behind, reaching in front of you as you opened the trunk, grabbing your bag and his from your reach. 

“Hey let me take my bag.” 

“Nope, pretty girls don’t have to do any work this summer.” The smirk on his face evident even as he turned to walk towards the house. 

You shook your head at the boy, following him inside to find the other boys. Following the noise out to the yard, the group of boys, consisting of the other Hughes’ and many of their friends, throwing a cheap football around. 

“Buttercup!” Trevor was the first to notice your presence, dropping his attention to only be hit with the ball that was thrown his way. “Asshole!” He yelled to Ethan, who threw the ball before running towards you. 

You barely had time to take a step back before his arms were around you, hoisting you into the air and spinning. 

“Trevor, put me down!” The words were interrupted with laughter, making the ducks player smile. 

“Missed you Buttercup.” He grinned, placing your feet on the ground while the other boys piled around, taking their turns hugging you. 

“Give me my girl back.” Luke spoke, returning from his trip upstairs, where he simply threw both of your suitcases in his room. 

“Oh your girl?” Trevor sassed back, his hands on his hips as he spoke. 

“Shut it.” Luke snapped back, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back from his past teammates who encircled you. 

“Luke, share with us. You have her all year.” Ethan pleaded, his hands reaching out to pull you back before promptly being smacked away by Luke. 

“Fuck off Ethan.” He had a glare on his face to suit his words, his grip tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer against his body. 

“Lu, let me see the boys for a bit, you know I’ll be with you tonight.” He let out a sigh, dropping his hold as you turned to press a kiss to his cheek before running towards the boys. 

“You finally asked her out?” Trevor asked, standing beside Luke now while they watched the others. 

“No.” 

“Sure seems like it, if you don’t soon I just might.” 

Luke moved faster than Trevor could even think, his hit promptly smacking Trevor in the nose, where he thought the older boy would dodge. Trevor’s hands covering his face as he yelled at the younger Hughes, garnering the attention of the others.

“What happened?” Quinn was the first to ask, walking over to the two, you following close behind. 

“Your brother punched me!” Trevor spoke quickly, pulling his hand away from his face to see the blood. “Asshole.” He mumbled before Quinn grabbed his face, examining the cut that covered his nose.

“It’s just a cut, you’ll be fine, go wash off.” Quinn spoke fast, shoving the Zegras boy towards the door before turning to his little brother. “The fuck were you doing?” 

A pink tinted Luke’s cheeks, staring at the ground as he brother spoke. Slowly lifting his gaze to catch your eye, where a worried look littered your face. 

“He just said something I thought he’d dodge but he didn’t.” Luke admitted, his hand running through his hair while he finally caught his brother's eyes. 

“Care to share what he said?” 

“Nope.” Luke was quick with the answer, pushing past his brother to reach you, his arms wrapping around your waist out of instinct. 

“No, hands off, why’d you punch Trevor.” A shocked look was quick to cover his face when you pushed his hands from your waist, staring at him with a look that made it clear he shouldn’t push it. 

“He said something stupid, okay? I just didn’t like it.” Luke sighed, his hands reaching out again before being smacked down by yours. 

“You can’t just punch him over it!” 

“I thought he’d duck.” Luke shrugged, scanning your gaze waiting for you to cave. 

“That doesn’t justify it! Luke, you can’t punch because he said something, what could he have even said that would justify that?” Luke’s eyes dropped at the scolding, feeling like a child again while his hands itched to hold you. 

He mumbled under his breath, admitting what Trevor had said, in such a voice no one could hear. 

“What? Luke don’t mumble.” Your voice was strict, sounding more and more like his mothers by the minute. 

“I said he was going to ask you out.” Luke’s voice sounded strained at the words, your eyes softening at the confession. “He can’t, he knows.” Luke’s voice returned to barely above a whisper, his hands running anxiously through his curls as he stared at you, waiting for a reaction. 

“What does he know?” 

“He knows I love you.” Luke swallowed after the words, letting out a sarcastic laugh after, “Hell, everyone but you seems to know.” 

“What?” There was barely time for you to slip the confusion into the conversation before Luke continued, his voice filled with anxiety. 

“I think I’ve loved you since I first saw you, but you were one of my best friends, I couldn’t ruin it. Trevor was the first to point it out, that day on the boat when you only came after I asked, Trevor dragged me aside after pestering me until I confessed. Then Quinn, then Jack and slowly everyone else had just learned. Then Trevor asked today if I finally asked you out and then he said he would if I didn’t and I didn’t even think I just swung.” Luke’s ramble being interrupted with a breath before he continued. “I don’t think I could live if you went out with him, it’d kill me. I need to be the one, please.” 

A soft look covered your face, Luke’s eyes staring into yours, pleading for something, anything. You could see the desperation in his eye, the way his hands shook at his sides, the way he looked like he’d give anything to have you. 

“Lu,” Your hands reached to cup his face, gently running your thumbs along his jawline while his hands fell to your waist. “I love you so much.” 

The smile on his face as you said the words would live engraved in your mind forever, his lips quick to meet yours in a chaste kiss that had you pulling him in for more. Your hands tangled through the curls at the nape of his neck, while his arms wrapped around your waist holding you against him. 

“Fucking finally.” A groan came from the door, snapping away from Luke to see Trevor stood in the doorway. “Only took years and almost breaking my nose.” His words tapered off, wandering back inside, earning a laugh from Luke before your hand smacked his chest. 

“Luke! Don’t laugh, go apologize.” Luke’s eyes widen at your tone, watching the glare you had as if you had forgotten about the Zegras boy until now. “Go.” 

Slowly he did, dragging you with him, he made his way into the kitchen. Where Trevor stood, an icepack to his nose while he ate strawberries Jack had cut up for the boat trip later. 

“You never learn to save food for the boat.” You scolded, seeing the shake of his head at your words. 

“I think I deserve some berries.” He mumbled, shoving more into his mouth. 

You looked up to Luke, nodding towards Trevor for the boy to speak. His gaze lingered on you, watching your eyes narrow as time passed before you lightly kicked his shin, urging him to speak. 

“”M sorry I hit you, I thought you’d duck but that’s not the point.” Luke’s apology was sad, and half-assed, but it worked. Garnering Trevors attention for him to walk over to the youngest Hughes with a smile, trapping the boy in a headlock before ruffling his hair and mumbling some words about it being okay. 

Luke was quick to leave the minute Trevor’s grip faltered, Luke pulling hard to get free before grabbing your hand and running up the stairs. 

“Lu, slow down!” The words were separated by laughter, almost falling up the stairs trying to keep up with the curly headed boy. 

Within seconds, you were in his room, his arms around your waist giving him an easy way to throw you to his bed. Landing on it with a soft thud as he followed shortly behind, immediately pulling your body to his and pressing another kiss to your lips.

[b14augrana]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Your story goes deeper than what meets Alexia’s eye

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 2 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion. aditionally, alexia is pretty mean in this and there wont be a happy ending for a few parts 😬

A/N: massive thank you to this request for the amazing idea 🫶🏼. r is 18 y/o but still going under teen!reader. this is going to be multiple parts because theres so much i could do for this request that i find impossible to fit into one part and write to a good standard, so here you go!

The Stands

Football unites the world. It brings people, cities, and countries together, like nothing else.

You’ve seen it happen in your beautiful hometown of Barcelona — all you can see during the hours leading up to any match set to be played in the Camp Nou is red and blue in the sky. Blaugrana painted the streets below, and the entire city came alive with the commotion from the stadium.

You spent your entire childhood being part of the roaring atmosphere, waving your Barça flag proudly in the air alongside every other flag and wearing the infamous colours across your chest.

Most of all, you prayed with every bit of faith in you, that one day you’d be on the pitch, playing for the club of your dreams.

Everyone in the crowd had their own individual life. There could be a single mother, a lawyer who used up his last days of leave to attend the match, a young boy with his father, an elderly person on an outing with his wife, someone from abroad who’s spent thousands and travelled for hours to watch their favourite player in real life.

11 players could bring together almost 100,000 people just to watch them kick a ball around, and you wanted to have the same effect. You wanted to be so good at football and have the ability to transform a simple sport about kicking a ball around into 90 minutes of entertainment, performance, art. You wanted to do it with Barcelona.

You trained meticulously for months. You passed your small, worn out ball against the same fence in your backyard, you practiced your touch by juggling until the frustration made you storm away in tears and you learned new skills and used your own shoes as cones to pose as defenders and dribble around.

When you went to the Camp Nou to trial for the renowned La Masia academy, you were little and clutching your FC Barcelona backpack for support. The stadium already looked so big when you were up in the stands, but when it was empty and you were actually on the pitch, it was even bigger. You were stood on the same grass as your idols that once had the same dream as you, and that was unbelievable.

The start of your journey as a player at FC Barcelona had begun.

Day after day, you woke up early for training. Your siblings were never awake at that time, so the rare moment of peaceful alone time with your mother was something you looked forward to every morning.

She drove you to the La Masia facilities and then picked you up at sunset. Sometimes, when she had to work late, you and some of your teammates would go to the park and play with the other local kids until your parents came.

Those were the same teammates that you got promoted to the B team with, and the evening 5-a-side games in the park never stopped. They were your best friends — you all shared a common dream of getting to the first team and playing in big tournaments and winning titles, and even though you realistically wouldn’t all be able to do that, no one ever stopped believing that one day it would happen.

As you grew up and your career just started to take off, things started to change. Not just in football, but your life off the pitch too. All at the age of thirteen.

Your father started coming home late. As if your mother was stupid, he’d waltz into the house in the middle of the night, claiming he had to stay a little late because a last minute meeting was called or he lost track of the time. The mild arguments started, and when the late arrivals became more frequent, your mother’s suspicions grew stronger.

One night, it came to a halt. Just when you stopped expecting it, he came home at his regular time; half past six. The only difference was, he didn’t look happy to be home at all. A frown tainted his face ans there was something off-putting about his demeanour. Soon, it all made sense.

You watched from around the corner, your head barely peeking out. Your dad shrugged his blazer off, and you noticed the way his mouth twitched as if hesitating to say something. Once he spoke, a big part of you wished he hesitated a bit more and realised down the line that he was making a bad decision, but it was too late.

The reason he was working late, the secrecy, the floral smells that lingered on his shirts; he was never working overtime, the floral smells were not from the diffuser in the office, and he did have something to hide.

It was called infidelity.

Your siblings emerged from their rooms as soon as the cacophonous yelling started, and you were quick to usher them away from the arguing.

The reality of how bad the situation really was hadn’t yet settled in, but you knew the outcome wasn’t going to be good.

Your youngest brother complained about his rumbling stomach, and the other two were quick to jump on the hunger train. For a moment you were stumped, because you didn’t want to go into the kitchen where the argument was taking place and get dragged into it, so your solution was grabbing a €50 bill and sneaking out to the nearest restaurant.

You were the oldest of four kids. After you was one of two boys, Lorenzo, and then the twins, Magdalene and Dani. They shared the same passion for football as you, and your fondest memories consisted on being in the stands of Camp Nou with them.

All of you snagged a table in a cozy restaurant, one you were familiar with due to going there multiple times with the rest of your family.

The hour you spent in that restaurant with your siblings turned out to be the last hour of a carefree life you’d get to indulge in.

The Pitch

You turned 18 last week, but you got promoted to the first team last month. The headlines painted you as an emblem of success for Barça’s youth programme, the future captain of the first team, and there were all these opinions flying around about you as a player. The opinion that mattered most, though, was that of your captain.

You and Alexia Putellas didn’t get along. Her opinion on you was nothing short of disapproving, and she let you know of that as you arrived at practice.

“(Y/N),” the woman said, her voice holding notes of irritation as she approached you. You looked at her, preparing yourself for the inevitable lecture.

“You’re late again. You might be young, but over here you’re the same as all of us no matter your age, which means getting to training at the same time as us,” she berated you, her hands set on her hips and her eyebrows furled in annoyance.

“Look, captain, I had to–” you started, but your explanation was cut short by Alexia.

“I don’t have time for your excuses. Do better next time, or you’re sitting out of practice entirely. Go run your laps,” she snarled, dismissing you with a wave of her hand.

You could only watch in anger as she stormed away while the others looked at you sympathetically, and you bit your tongue as you walked to the locker room and dumped your bag in your cubby.

She belittled you in every interaction you two had, which was a shame because you really liked her beforehand. In fact, you looked up to her, and you looked forward to being captained by her, but now it was hell on earth every time you entered the gates and met her scrutinising gaze.

Training was nothing special. It was the same old passing drills, small-sided games, shooting and free kick practice, and then before you knew it, home time.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and left before Alexia could stop you and give you yet another lecture. After stopping at the primary school to pick up Magdalene and Dani, you three drove to the middle school to pick up Lorenzo. Barcelona rush hour was rife around the time you picked up your siblings, so you spent another half an hour stuck in traffic until you finally got home.

All you wanted was your bed, and a nap. Still, you dragged yourself to the kitchen to make something quick for dinner so it was ready for your siblings when they were hungry, and then you tidied up in the living room.

Ever since your dad left, your mother was a wreck, leaving you as the successor to her caretaking duties of the kids. She was never a drinker, but after he left, she found herself depending on alcohol for a quick escape.

It was nice for a little bit; a short break from the world that always ended too soon. She kept chasing and chasing that relief until she was in too deep, and it was never enough. The bottles multiplied, the cans lined the rubbish bins, the stench polluted the air that once smelled of a fresh vanilla essence, and she became latched onto it.

You blamed your father for it all, because it was his unchastity that motivated every drink. Your mother was a beautiful woman who loved her family more than herself.

That was what ruined her.

“Hermana, hermana,” Magdalene spoke, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. You looked down just as you turned off the stove, and she rubbed her stomach, “I’m hungry.”

“Okay hermanita, ask the boys if they’re hungry, please,” you replied, smiling at her. She nodded and ran to their bedrooms, and soon they all emerged from around the corner.

After scooping generous amounts of macaroni and cheese onto their plates, you put some onto your plate and sat down with your siblings to eat. Together, you all talked about your busy days and they listened to you tell them all about your training. They loved hearing your stories about Barça, and every time, Magdalene and Dani would ask you to continue your stories until they fell asleep.

Tonight was no different as you tiptoed out of the twins’ bedroom, gently shutting the door behind you. As much as you loved sleeping after a long day, part of you also dreaded it, because it meant starting a new day and facing Alexia.

When you woke up, it was to gentle knocking on your bedroom door. You were awake enough to comprehend the quiet pattering of footsteps across your hardwood floors, and when tiny hands grazed your skin, you jolted awake. “Hermana, time to wake up! School time!” Magdalene chimed.

So your morning routine began.

With one sock and half your jacket over your head, you made three lunches for the kids right after making their breakfast. Your mother slowly slumped out of her bedroom, wrapping her robe tight around her.

“Bon día,” she mumbled, a smile on her face. With a glance over your shoulder, you acknowledged her before going back to slicing two oranges.

“Morning, mamá,” your siblings responded quietly, shoving food into their mouths to avoid speaking any further. She sat on the couch, sighing deeply.

As she walked past you, you could immediately recognise the stench of alcohol — no surprises there. Years ago, she would’ve smelled like warm musky perfume, not the pungent smell of chemicals.

“Can you make me something, hija? ‘M very hungry,” she said to you, looking your way. You kept your head down, sealing the lunchboxes and cleaning up the counter.

“No, ma, I have things to do. Make your own breakfast,” you responded coldly, “Hermanita, pequeños, bring your dishes here.”

Your siblings scrambled from the table with their empty plates, giving them a quick wash before retreating to their rooms to get their uniform on. On the couch, your mother was still begging for food.

“Hija.. I’m hungry,” the woman slurred.

“Mamá, I have to get your kids to school and go to my own job, which my captain is already angry at me for being late because I have to drive them all around Barna,” you hissed.

“Then I have to come home and make dinner after cleaning your mess. You can make your own breakfast, for once!”

You always felt bad for yelling at your mum, but your life was hard enough with trying to get to work and drop off your three siblings in time while worrying about making your mum a meal.

You had a chance at life. You had a chance to succeed, and you weren’t going to waste it. You weren’t going to rely on a man to look after you in the future until he turns around and wants to look after another woman, leaving you damned.

“Bye, mamá,” you grumbled, grabbing your keys from the bench and swooping your boot bag up from the floor.

It was Dani’s turn to pick which song to play on the radio on the drive to school. He chose a very popular song within your siblings; ‘Me Gustas Tu’. The song had been broadcasted on the radio one day, and everyone seemed to love it. Their favourite part of car rides to school was winding the windows down and singing as loud as they’d like.

Somehow, amongst your father leaving and your mother’s new habits, your siblings were always happy, and that’s what you admired most about them. Maybe they were unaware of the harsh reality, but they were still naïve and unscathed by everything that happened.

It was almost 9:30 in the morning when you started making your way to the training pitch. Mentally, you were preparing yourself for the big lecture you were about to get from Alexia and seriously didn’t need, but physically, you looked unbothered if not a bit tense in the shoulders.

You almost tripped on your way out of the car as you rushed around to get your gear. Walking into training everyday just to get yelled at by Alexia was never nice, but you were used to it. Unfortunately.

That wasn’t the sort of relationship a captain should have with one of her players. It was almost like she despised you, and if she had her way, you probably would’ve been off the team within the first week.

Sure enough, when you appeared on the pitch, the first thing you heard was the low whispers beside you.

“…She’s irresponsible and doesn’t belong on the first team. Being late once, I understand, but multiple times? Her excuses are not good enough–”

“Excuses? Ale, you’ve never let her explain herself.”

“There shouldn’t be any need for excuses anyways, because she shouldn’t be late at all. If she wants to take her time and be let off easy like a child, send her back to the B team. Look, she isn’t even here yet.”

“She is, though. Look behind you.”

The woman turned around, her glare settling on you and being as cold as ever. She spun her whole body around and folded her arms across her chest, her frown heavy.

You sighed, looking down to your feet. It made you feel even worse that you couldn’t help it, and you couldn’t explain it to her either, because that action had potential to get your siblings taken away.

“Drop your bag, get comfortable. You’re not training today,” she snapped.

Your heart sunk. You fought to fend off any tears from forming on your waterline as you nodded, raising your head slightly.

“Listen, (Y/N). This team is everything to me. I have lots of respect for the people who coach us and come here to be coached. You, showing up late? That shows a lack of respect for those people. You’re lazy, unorganised, irresponsible–”

Irresponsible was untrue. If anything, you were the most responsible person you’ve ever known, but Alexia didn’t know that because she didn’t care to know you.

“…I can’t expect you to represent our club and our city on big stages if you can’t even come to training on time. You aren’t FC Barcelona material, and unless things change, you never will be.”

Your lip quivered as your body aligned to bolt for the locker room as soon as she left you alone, away from the watchful eyes that surveyed you in pity when had you arrived. Alexia turned on her heel and stormed away past Mapi, whom she was talking to previously.

She left you in her wake, crestfallen and misunderstood, defeated by circumstances beyond your control.

[katsu28]

home is wherever you are

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)

warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol

a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH

“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.” 

Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was. 

“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips. 

“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.” 

You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most. 

There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch. 

But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room. 

Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing. 

He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing. 

It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench. 

Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise. 

But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you. 

You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal. 

The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.

“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms. 

Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own. 

But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor. 

He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.” 

“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.” 

“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.” 

“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.” 

“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?” 

“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled. 

Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.” 

Oh, if only he knew. 

You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.” 

Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.

“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.” 

Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on. 

Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out. 

He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word. 

“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?” 

“You’re really going to be gone.”

“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him. 

“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.” 

That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits. 

 “What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression. 

“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—” 

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking. 

You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?” 

“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.” 

“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms. 

“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.” 

“Yeah, I am pretty great.” 

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.” 

“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.” 

Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.” 

“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional. 

“Is that a promise?” 

“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.” 

It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could. 

You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night. 

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined. 

You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch. 

He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.  

The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that. 

Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something. 

The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room. 

It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine. 

But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time. 

You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano. 

Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in. 

Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world. 

You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead. 

It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now. 

Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring. 

“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly. 

“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?” 

“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.” 

Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.” 

“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?” 

This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep. 

You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh. 

There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell. 

It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course. 

Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more. 

Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?” 

“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask. 

You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable. 

“Any requests from the audience?” 

“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow. 

“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”

“Anything you play is perfect.”

“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”  

He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker. 

It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa. 

Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine. 

Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own. 

Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him. 

God, why were you even thinking of those things? 

It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend. 

Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know. 

Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop. 

Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him. 

-------

Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him. 

“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.

Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place. 

The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice. 

You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up. 

It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something. 

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow. 

Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.” 

“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.” 

“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.” 

You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.” 

“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”

“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—” 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?” 

“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.” 

“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.

Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him. 

That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles. 

His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.” 

You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—” 

“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.” 

But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all. 

You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.” 

His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign. 

That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”

“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.” 

“Did I—did I do something wrong?”

You almost faltered. Almost.

“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?” 

“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?” 

“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.” 

“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you. 

“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly. 

“Then why did you?” 

“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.” 

“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t. 

“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone. 

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.” 

Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued. 

“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”

There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had. 

Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.” 

“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.” 

“It is, if he feels the same way about you.” 

A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head. 

“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.

Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?” 

You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.

He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you. 

Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.

“Do you believe me now?” 

“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).

“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.” 

“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them. 

This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.

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[drak3n]

BANKER!KENTO

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, slow burn, coworkers to lovers trope, reader is whipped for nanami, smut, office sex, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving implied) cum-eating

sena’s note: i will never get over my hubby :(

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ BANKER!KENTO who recently moved back to tokyo after having spent some time in malaysia; who came back as a well-rested, new man (& even more handsome with a nice tan)

➩ BANKER!KENTO who had absolutely no interest in socializing with his coworkers and making friends at his new job and whose one and only goal was to survive his shifts and leave

➩ BANKER!KENTO who didn’t think he’d meet a person who hated work as much as he did until he saw you nearly ripping your hair out in your office through the glass door

➩ BANKER!KENTO who you got teamed up with to do the annual financial statement together to present to the entire team; and you couldn’t be more nervous to approach the blonde

➩ BANKER!KENTO who approached you instead and asked if you should just split the tasks up and present them together in the end, because he assumed you didn’t want to interact with him

you blinked up at the tall man while he leaned over your desk. what?

“come again?” embarrassingly, you hadn’t listened to what he said. his forearms just looked so buff and he had no damn business rolling the sleeves of his perfectly ironed, blue shirt up to his elbows—

“—me which part you prefer and i’ll do the other.”

fuck. what did he say? you couldn’t ask him to repeat it once more. he’d think you were a dumbass. what was the best way to get out of this situation without completely busting it?

“yeah, sure!” your response was weird and overly enthusiastic, and you were never happier to be sitting at this desk. you wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to do with your arms and legs, or frankly, yourself, if you were standing.

totally missing the look of disappointment on nanami’s face — which he covered by clearing his throat and collecting himself again quickly — you spent the next few seconds looking at each other.

did he have something on his face? had he forgotten a splotch of shaving foam on his chin or cheek? or did he have a coffee stain on his shirt? your gaze was making him wonder.

“you can choose your part, then,” he muttered, hinting at the stack of papers that had been given to you and kento. oh now it made sense… of course he wouldn’t want to meet up to get this done together. obviously.

“uh, i could do the statistics and the powerpoint.” this time it was you hiding how disheartened you were, and he had no idea.

➩ BANKER!KENTO who, as time passed, grew fond of the way you carried yourself so gracefully; how you always kept a clear head (except for in the confines of your office where you liked ripping and crumpling papers instead of shoving them into the file shredder)

➩ BANKER!KENTO who actually enjoyed doing the annual closure exposure with you on christmas eve and watched as you stayed behind to tidy up

➩ BANKER!KENTO who silently joined you, much to your surprise as it was well-known already that he didn’t like staying for longer than he had to

“oh, kento, i’ll take care of it. just go enjoy your christmas eve.”

he grunted, throwing the plastic cups into the nearest trash can while you collected the leftover cookies, placing them into a tin. “don’t you have anywhere to be?” you asked out of interest, to which he shook his head. you smiled. “me neither.”

as you left through the backdoor, wrapped up in thick coats, gloves and scarfs, you noticed that it had started snowing. you wanted to ask him if he was up to come over to yours and have dinner together — perhaps not your usual pompous family christmas dinner, but takeout — and then watch a sappy movie with two mugs of hot cocoa… but you didn’t.

ironically, he thought the same, but he couldn’t get the worst past the lump in his throat.

instead, you seperated after a couple of feet, wishing each other a merry christmas and cursing yourselves why you didn’t speak up.

➩ BANKER!KENTO whose fingers hovered over your contact information a day before new year’s eve; who knew you two would probably spend that day alone, too, and who thought it wouldn’t be worth it to make the effort of roasting an entire duck just for himself

➩ BANKER!KENTO who was beaten to it when you called him instead

“hey, kento.” you said, and he could hear your soft smile. “i was wondering if you uh… would like to come over for new year’s eve? i was going to… bake a cake, and it would be a waste to just eat it all by myself and have to chuck the rest in the trash...”

as you chuckled awkwardly, you didn’t have the slightest clue that nanami sent a smile of victory towards the duck in his fridge and a bottle of red wine resting on his kitchen counter. as if he had gotten caught, he quickly coughed.

“yes, i’d like that,” he muttered into the speaker, which made you cover your speaker to let out a joyous squeal. “do you like roasted duck?”

➩ BANKER!KENTO whose eyes went wide at the sight of you in a dress, elegant as always, but less formal; who felt the need to loosen his tie, sweating despite the freezing temperatures outside as you pulled him into a hug after taking the pan from his arm

➩ BANKER!KENTO who never thought much of others complimenting his cooking, but who felt giddy as you swooned, asking him about all the ingredients and expressing how you’d never eaten a meal as delicious as his in your entire life

➩ BANKER!KENTO who wanted to excuse himself minutes before new year’s eve, but who let himself get dragged to your balcony to watch the fireworks, and who let out a sound of surprise as you pulled him down gently by his now loosened tie to smooch him breathless

“darling, what if someone sees?” nanami sat back in his chair and let out a shaky sigh when his dark eyes darted to the door, before settling on you, hidden right behind his desk as you sat on your knees, unbuckling his belt with deft fingers.

“you’ve been pressing against me every time you walked past me today, kento.” your eyes were laced with need as you took his thick, hard cock out of its restraints. “didn’t you want this?” the blonde gritted his jaw when your thumb knowingly rubbed against his slit, smearing precum all over the reddened tip.

“you don’t know what you do to me, love…” he couldn’t stop himself from bucking his hips into your mouth, not when you took him so well and sucked him so nicely. it was almost as if you were asking him to shoot his cum down your throat when your eyes met.

you greedily swallowed every bit of it when he did, tucking him back inside and dusting your skirt off, acting as if nothing happened. when you shot him a coy smile and attempted to leave his office, he grasped your wrist in his hand, uncaring if anyone saw or not at this point.

“w—what are you—”

“did you think i missed the way you rubbed your thighs together the entire time? sit on the desk, let me reward my lovely girl.”

➩ BANKER!KENTO who now had someone to spend all holidays with, and who he didn’t even mind working overtime with :)

tagged: @melancholia-k @tansyfleurwhisper

[webslingingslasher]

i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.

parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!

Peter had two sets of friend groups. 

The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning. 

Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them. 

It’s split like this. 

With friend group A, he’s Peter.

With friend group B, he’s Parker. 

You don’t like Parker; not one bit. 

Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky. 

It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged. 

His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier. 

Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.” 

It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’ 

You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm. 

If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?

—------------------------------

Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either. 

If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’ 

“C’mon, gimme a hug.” 

You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?” 

Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.” 

Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’ 

“Want company?” 

Disappointment covers your features, “not really.” 

He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it. 

“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?” 

You shrug, “sure.” 

Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further. 

That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever. 

“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.” 

His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.” 

So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?” 

When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him. 

—----------------------------------

Noise woke you up. 

The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose. 

There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm. 

You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay. 

It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat. 

“Baby?” 

You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you. 

“I slept like shit, how about you?” 

You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.” 

Peter recognizes you’re still mad. 

“Waffles or pancakes?” 

You grin, “french toast.” 

Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.” 

He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss. 

“Okay, come here.” 

You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.” 

Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen. 

A text thread between him and Nick. 

“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?” 

“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.” 

“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.” 

“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.” 

“Appreciate it, man.” 

A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you. 

Peter stood up for you, he had your back. 

You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship. 

You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response. 

“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.” 

“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?” 

You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips. 

[teapartyprincess4two]

Unplanned- C. Sturniolo

pairing: TeenMom!reader x TeenDad!Chris

classification: fluff, high school sweethearts

warnings: teen pregnancy, suggestive content but no smut, unplanned pregnancy, unexpected child, mentions of unprotected sex but no smut, mention of throwing up & nausea, some cursing, use of y/n, long

summary: Becoming a teen mom was never in your plans, but you and Chris had to learn to make the best of it.

—

Yours and Chris’s love story was long and intricate, full of details and secrets only you two would understand. It started from an early age and only progressed as you two grew older.

You met Chris when you were just kids. The two of you were attached at the hip, always wanting to do everything together. You’d ride your bikes around the neighborhood and stay up all night playing video games. If you weren’t there, Chris wasn’t interested. If Chris didn’t do it, neither did you. You were best friends from the very beginning.

When you entered middle school, the two of you became even more inseparable. You went through an awkward stage of your lives together that included acne, growth spurts, and puberty. Middle school is a brutal time for any child, but you and Chris got through it together. Bullies and mean girls lurked in every classroom, but as long as you had Chris it was okay. You were ready to defend him if necessary and he was ready to do the same.

Eventually you entered high school and the two of you matured into young adults. Around this time all your friends began dating, but you were too attached to Chris for any boys to ask you out. Towards the end of your freshman year you realized that what you felt for Chris went beyond friendship. Those feelings only grew stronger as the school year progressed, but you were too young to understand them, so you suppressed them as much as possible.

Some time during the summer between freshman and sophomore year, Chris realized he felt the same about you. Chris confided in his brothers about his newfound crush for you and whenever you’d come around they’d tease him relentlessly about it. It never became awkward between you, though, instead you grew the courage to confess your feelings to Chris. And, to your surprise, he admitted he felt the same.

The two of you spent that summer exploring this new relationship and became even more bonded than you already were. You entered sophomore year as a couple and dated all throughout high school, falling more in love with each passing day. You shared so many firsts with Chris; your first date, your first kiss, and your first time. Everything was special because you were sharing it with Chris, he was your soulmate. Your relationship was beautiful, it was perfect.

Senior year rolled around quicker than expected, and before you knew it, it was prom night. Chris organized an elaborate promposal for you in the middle of the school’s court yard, complete with a banner, a bouquet of roses, and confetti. Everything about that moment was perfect, earning adoring looks from every other student who watched you grow as a couple over the years.

Prom night was a solidifying moment in your relationship with Chris because as it was the first time you had sex without a condom. It felt like the perfect night to completely give yourself to one another, and if you were careful, there wouldn’t be any consequences. After this night, the two of you grew stronger in your relationship. Nothing was able to break you apart even though so many people tried. If it wasn’t a mean girl it was a jock who tried catching one of your attention, but it never worked. You and Chris were locked in, you were fully committed and in it for the long haul.

After prom the only high school milestone left to complete was graduation. Although your younger years were flying by in a whirl, you were excited to enter a new chapter with Chris. The two of you had so many dreams and plans for your future together. You spent countless nights discussing it all, but you were both so naive then. Chris would gush about the luxuries he’d provide for you as adults including a house with a pool, too many cars, and anything else you wanted.

You two were about to learn the harsh reality of life the hard way.

—

It’s graduation day and you’re buzzing with excitement and nerves, this really was the end of an era for you. “You ready?” Chris asks, a huge smile plastered on his face. He couldn’t wait to graduate and start a new chapter with you that didn’t include homework and tardy bells. “Yeah, I think so,” you reply as you adjust your cap and gown. You felt extremely nauseous, but you chalked it up to nerves. You were about to cross the stage and officially enter adulthood, who wouldn’t be nervous?

Chris gives you a quick peck before grabbing your hand and leading you into the school auditorium. You take a deep breath in attempt to calm your nerves, it’s just graduation you’ll be fine. As the ceremony progresses you can’t help but feel even worse, but you try your best to ignore it so you can cross the stage and get this over with.

When you finally cross the stage you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from throwing up, you don’t even make it back to your seat, instead running off to the bathroom with your diploma. Chris watches from his seat in confusion and worry, where were you going? He silently excuses himself and follows behind you, trying to keep up with you as you run down the halls. You barge into the bathroom, rushing into the first available stall and hunching over the toilet, immediately spewing out this mornings breakfast.

When there’s nothing else for you to throw up, you slump down onto the dirty bathroom floor and rest again the cold tile walls of the stall. You feel exhausted, a looming headache growing from the pressure caused by vomiting. Either something was seriously wrong or you ate something yesterday that didn’t sit well with you, but you knew this was NOT just nerves. You’ve never been this nervous before, it was just graduation it’s not like you had to present an award or recite a speech.

“Y/n?” Chris asks cautiously from outside the restroom, he opens the door slightly to see if you’re even in there. “In here,” you respond quietly, pushing yourself off the floor and to the sink. He walks in timidly, not sure if there was anyone else in here with you, but when he realizes it’s just you he immediately asks what’s wrong.

“I’m fine, just a little anxious,” you lie.

Chris squints his eyes at you as he watches you wash your hands feverishly and rinse out your mouth. He knew you were lying, but he wasn’t going to press it. “Well the ceremony is over. We were going to go eat, but I can ask Matt to take us home?” he’s rubbing your back lovingly, he knows something’s wrong but you don’t want to tell him. You smile at him through the mirror, drying your hands quickly so you can get out of this restroom as soon as possible.

“Yes please,” you reply quietly, grabbing your diploma and adjusting your cap. You do a once over in the mirror, trying to ensure that there’s nothing gross left over on your gown.

Once you’re sure you’re fine, you and Chris walk back out into the auditorium to find Matt and Nick.

—

Summer is the best time of all, especially now that your fun won’t be cut short once August rolls around and school starts up again. This felt like an endless summer and you were ready to spend every second of it with your boyfriend.

It was the second week of June and you were out swimming with Chris, his brothers, and a couple of your friends. Well they were swimming, you were sitting in a lawn chair by the pool, too tired to swim.

You’ve been feeling tired and sick ever since graduation, but you didn’t tell anyone because deep down you know it’s something serious. You’ve noticed how tired you look, your small but sudden weight gain, and your consistent morning sickness. All the symptoms pointed to one thing: pregnancy. But you suppressed the thought out of your head and tried your best to enjoy the summer.

“Babe, come in!” Chris calls out to you as he flails his arms around in the water, splashing some of it on you in the process. “I will in a bit. I’m trying to tan,” you reply, hoping he’ll believe your lie and go back to your friends. He can see right through you, though, so of course he doesn’t believe you. Chris hoists himself up from the water by the edge of the pool, jogging towards you as water drips off of him.

“What’s wrong? You love swimming,” he comments as soon as he’s close enough to you, taking a seat at the foot of the lawn chair. A sudden whiff of chlorine water and sunscreen from Chris hits you, causing you to instantly become nauseous, but you hold it back as you reply, “I’m fine, babe. I’m just a little tired.” He hums in response, allowing his wet hands to wander on your bare skin.

His hands begin rubbing along your thighs, “You look so sexy, babe.” You chuckle a little at this, pushing his hands off you playfully before replying, “Don’t be weird. We’re in public.” A goofy smile adorns his face as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips, his hands traveling dangerously close to the strings of your bikini. “I’m not being weird, I just love my girlfriend,” his voice is sultry as he attempts to seduce you, kissing you again.

“Let’s go to the restroom.”

Another whiff of chlorine water and sunscreen hits you, and this time you can’t hold back the gag. You cover your mouth immediately, standing abruptly from the lawn chair and rushing to the restroom. Chris watches in confusion, wondering what the hell he did to warrant that response as he follows behind you. You’re once again hunched over a toilet in a dirty stall throwing up everything in your stomach.

“What the fuck? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” a million questions come from Chris as he crouches next to you and holds your hair out of your face. This is the second time you’ve suddenly gotten sick out of nowhere, except this time he’s going to make sure you tell him what’s wrong whether you like it or not.

At this point you’re tired, nauseous, embarrassed, and you have a headache; you can’t help but start crying. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Chris assures you, hugging you close and rubbing circles into your back. He was always good at consoling you, but today you were so distressed that the tears just kept flowing.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? You can tell me.”

The thing is that you didn’t know what was wrong, you only had suspicions, and those suspicions were too scary to admit out loud. “I don’t know,” you reply through sobs, shaking your head at the idea of possibly being pregnant. Chris can tell that whatever this is, it’s serious, but he doesn’t know how to navigate this situation yet. All he can do is help you clean up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he whispers lovingly as he presses a kiss to your forehead and guides you towards the sink.

—

When you’ve finally calmed down you tell Chris the truth of what you think is going on. He’s taken aback, there’s no way you’re pregnant, right? You two were always safe, always concious of the consequences that come from being unprotected.

“Are you sure? We’re always safe. We’ve never had a scare before,” he tries to reason, thinking of every time the two have had sex in the last month or two. He’s almost 100% sure you weren’t pregnant.

“Prom,” you whisper, looking down at the floor as you hold back your tears. If you were pregnant you wouldn’t know what to do. You and Chris were only 18, still really young to be having a baby. There were so many dreams and plans you had, both as individuals and as a couple, that you’d never be able to do with a baby. How were you going to navigate your relationship if you took a test and it came back positive? You weren’t ready to be a mom. What was Chris going to do? He was fresh out of high school, he was even less ready to be a dad.

The realization hits him as he remembers prom night. “Holy fuck,” he replies with wide eyes, the situation suddenly becoming too real. “Have you taken a test?” he’s holding you gently by your elbows, searching your eyes for something. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, maybe reassurance that you two will be okay if this is real, but he’s trying not to panic. “Not yet,” your reply is a small glimpse of hope that maybe this is just a scare.

You and Chris dismiss yourself from your friends, dragging Nick and Matt along with you as you make your way to the nearest drug store. You had to find out immediately whether or not this suspicion was true.

Chris instructed Matt and Nick to wait in the car as you made your way into the drug store, they were confused out of their minds as to what was going on, but complied. You searched the aisles feverishly and purchased two pregnancy tests for safe measure.

Before you go into the restroom, Chris stops you and pulls you into a hug, “No matter what happens, it’s gonna be okay.” Even though you’re still scared, the comment warms your heart.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He kisses your forehead again before letting you go into the restroom. This moment was going to determine your future, and he wanted you to know that he was with you no matter what.

After what seemed like forever, you finally come back out of the restroom with both pregnancy tests in hand. “So?” Chris asks expectantly, chewing on his finger nails nervously. “I haven’t checked yet. I’m scared, Chris,” you reply, looking down at the pregnancy tests that are face down in your hands. “Let’s look together,” he takes one test from you.

You take a second to collect your thoughts before meeting Chris’s gaze, both of you flipping the test at the same time, but still not looking down. “I’m scared,” you say again, the nerves causing an unsettling feeling to loom over you. Chris is scared too, too scared to face the truth, so he lets you bite the bullet.

You break your gaze from his, looking down at the pregnancy test in your hand. Your stomach drops, a shocked gasp escaping your lips. This can’t be a good sign, so Chris immediately follows suit and looks at the pregnancy tests.

“Holy fuck,” he says. You were pregnant.

Matt and Nick are impatiently waiting in the car. They watch as you and Chris walk towards the car with unreadable expressions on your face, looking pale as ever. “What the fuck took so long?” Nick complains as soon as you two enter the vehicle. You sit there in silence, looking forward and dissociating completely.

“Y/n’s pregnant,” Chris says, still in shock.

Matt and Nick face you in their seats with their mouths agape, “Holy fuck.”

—

The next couple of months were hard. You and Chris had to suck it up and tell your parents, none of them were happy, but they can’t say they didn’t see it coming. You were forced to grow up as you and Chris began preparing to become parents, but you always made the best of it.

You swelled up very quickly, your protruding belly a constant reminder of the baby you and Chris were bringing into the world. Neither of you were ready for a baby, but you learned to come to terms with it over the span of your pregnancy. Chris was now actually very excited to become a dad, of course he was scared, but he was happy to be doing this with you. There was no one else he’d rather have as the mother of his children but you.

“This is perfect for the baby,” Nick comments as he holds up a cute floral onesie. You were currently shopping for simple baby necessities with Chris, Matt, and Nick. The gender of the baby was still unknown, but Nick was secretly hoping for a niece. “We’re just here for the necessities, Nick. Stuff like strollers, a hamper, maybe a cute diaper bag… Plus, we don’t even know the gender of the baby yet,” you reply with an eye roll as you waddle through the aisles.

“Okay? It’s still perfect for the baby,” he sasses as he throws the onesie into the shopping cart without another word. You ignore him, waddling into another section in search of the perfect stroller.

Chris and Matt, who had wandered off long ago, enter the same section. They were holding a plethora of baby clothes and all of them were decorated with dinosaurs, tractors, sports references, and anything else boy related. “Baby, look! For the baby!” Chris exclaims excitedly as he shows you all the cute clothes he and Matt just picked out. Chris had a hunch that you were having a boy and Matt was hoping for a nephew.

“This one says ‘Me + Mommy = One Broke Daddy,’ “ Matt laughs as he shows you a onesie he found with a stupid quote on it, he was a sucker for stupid quotes. “Get that out of the cart, my niece will wear none of that!” Nick protests as he swats Chris and Matt away. “Niece?! My NEPHEW is gonna love these,” Matt replies, dumping all the clothes into the cart dramatically.

Meanwhile, Chris is checking up on you, rubbing your stomach and kissing all over your face. “How you feeling, mama?” He started calling you mama about a month ago and the nickname was definitely suiting now. “My feet hurt,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his waist. You were so grateful for him, he truly hasn’t left your side ever since you found out you were pregnant.

“Can you guys stop? She’s already pregnant,” Nick comments with a dramatic eye roll. “Agreed. What are y’all tryna do? Make twins?” Matt joins in on the teasing, loving how uncomfortable you become every time.

“Nah, triplets,” Chris replies jokingly with a chuckle, seemingly unbothered. Your face is red hot in embarrassment.

—

The ultrasound tech lathers your stomach in cold gel as she prepares you for your ultrasound. Today you were going to find out the gender of your baby. Chris insisted on accompanying you of course, he’s eager to find out whether he’s having a son or a daughter. You’re excited to find out, but all you truly want is for your baby to be healthy. Deep down you’re secretly hoping for a girl, though. The idea of dressing your baby up in cute clothes, adorning her hair with bows and painting the nursery pink was exciting.

“You guys ready?” the ultrasound tech asks, as she hovers the transducer of your stomach. Chris squeezes your hand reassuringly. “We’re ready,” you reply, squeezing his hand back.

Chris can’t stop smiling throughout the entire appointment, he loves being able to see his baby on the screen. “There’s Baby’s heartbeat,” the tech says as the room is filled with the rhythmic beat of your baby’s heartbeat. You were happy to find out that your baby had a strong, steady heart beat and was completely healthy. You smile at the news and squeeze Chris’s hand again.

“Okay. Are you ready to find out if Baby is a boy or a girl?” the tech massages the transducer into your stomach as she verifies the babies gender. “Yes, please,” Chris replies eagerly, he can’t wait.

“Looks like you’re having a… boy.” She says it casually, but it’s enough to cause Chris to engulf you in a hug. He’s so happy, even if it was a girl he’d be happy, but this is honestly the best news ever. “I love you so much,” he says, his hands squishing your cheeks together her as he kisses you. “I love you too,” you reply with a chuckle, equally as excited as him.

“And I love you,” he whispers to your stomach as he talks to your son, planting a gentle kiss on it.

—

Once you hit the 9 month mark you couldn’t wait to give birth. Your feet always hurt, your back was worse, and you were so big you needed help to get up. You were tired of carrying around your son’s weight so you were actively trying to induce your labor. Some days you’d bounce on a bouncy ball. Other days you’d just pace around your room. All you knew was that this baby needed to get out of you immediately.

“You hungry, mama?” Chris asks, from beside you on the couch. The two of you were currently watching your favorite movie, it always made you cry, even before your pregnancy. You were always hungry nowadays, so that was a stupid question on his part. You send him a small glare which answers his question perfectly. He laughs slightly before asking what you’re in the mood for. Truthfully, you were in the mood for any and everything, that’s how hungry being pregnant made you.

Chris had compiled a mental list of every weird pregnancy craving you had throughout your pregnancy, so he decided to get the one that seemed to become your favorite; pineapple pizza. He ordered the pizza for you before returning to the movie on screen, listening to your sniffles. You always managed to cry at the exact same part of the movie, and ever since becoming pregnant your emotions only intensified.

The pizza arrived 30 minutes later, the savory aroma instantly causing your mouth to water. You would never eat this if you weren’t pregnant, but the cravings were so insatiable at this point that you’d eat it no matter how weird it looked or sounded. “This pizza is actually what made me pregnant,” you moan, taking a big bite of your first slice. Chris laughs, picking the pineapples off and doing the same. He loves you and your son so much that he’s willing to eat pineapple pizza.

After a while you become tired again and head to your room to sleep, but on your way there you feel a sharp pain shoot through your abdomen. You hold onto the wall for support as your breath quickens, you try and steady yourself. It’s just a small contraction, you’ve been having these all week, you’ll be fine. When you think you’re fine, you let go of the wall and begin walking to your room again, but are met with another, much stronger contraction.

This felt like the real thing, the baby was definitely coming. “Chris!” you call out, another contraction shooting through your body. You’re breathing heavily now, trying to focus on fully exhaling and inhaling. “Chris!” you exclaim louder this time, walking back into the living room slowly. He didn’t hear you the first time, but this time he’s jumping over the couch and running towards you urgently.

“Baby’s coming,” you breath out, yelping out in pain as you hold onto him for support. As if on cue, your water breaks. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck,” he says, looking down at the puddle of water on the floor. Chris guides you to the front door, leading you to the car. Once you’re in the car he runs back into the house for your hospital bag. He manages to grab your phones and the car keys on the way out, haphazardly locking the front door before rushing into the drivers seat.

Chris had no idea how to drive, but he was about to become a dad and there was no time to call Matt for a ride right now. “Chris, hurry!” You whimper, the pain becoming too much too fast. “I’m going baby, I’m going,” he reassures, holding your hand as he begins driving to the hospital.

On the way there he calls his brothers, his parents, and your parents to inform them that you’re in labor. Everyone is so excited and they begin asking too many question, but Chris hangs up on them after telling them which hospital you’d be at. He doesn’t have time for all that right now, he’s trying to juggle your pain, driving a car for the first time, and the anxiety he’s feeling about becoming a dad.

“Almost there, baby. You’re doing so good,” he says lovingly, rubbing your stomach as he keeps his eyes on the road. He’s speeding down the high way, somehow managing to expertly weave his way through traffic. The car is filled with your groans and heavy breathing, you could practically feel the baby crowning.

When you arrive to the hospital the staff immediately rushes you into the delivery room, preparing Chris quickly so he can join you. This was such a crazy, chaotic, beautiful moment for you two. Chris is scared, excited, nervous, anxious, everything.

The doctors are instructing you to push, the sweat gathering on your forehead as you use all your strength to push this baby out. Your hand is squeezing onto Chris’s so hard he’s sure his fingers are broken, but it can’t be anything compared to what you’re feeling. He’s coaching you through the entire thing, encouraging and reassuring you that you’re doing good. Although you want to tell him to shut up, you wouldn’t be able to do any of this on your own, so you focus your attention on your breathing and pushing your baby out.

“One last push.”

You use all the energy left in your body to push one last time, your baby finally being born. Your son’s wails fill the room, causing a wave of relief to wash over you. “You did so good, mama,” Chris whispers, kissing your forehead lovingly. He’s never been more in love with you than in this moment.

The doctor smiles as she places the baby in your arms. A motherly instincts immediately overtakes you and all you want to do is protect your son for the remainder of your life. Nothing matters but him, Chris, and the little family you just became. The baby is calm now, your heartbeat soothing him as soon as he’s in your arms.

“He’s so beautiful,” you whisper, as you and Chris admire him in awe. He was perfect. “He looks like you,” you comment again, taking in every detail of your child. Chris wants to frame this moment of his new little family forever. Despite just having given birth, you look beautiful.

“I love you,” Chris says, kissing you for the first time as actual parents. “I love you,” you reply, looking back down at your son. This was an unplanned, beautiful moment that you wouldn’t trade for the world.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: working on some requests 😋 enjoy honey bunches

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[likedovesinthewindd]

I have a request

So Ash is alive but Fez is in jail

So like Fez and the Reader have been dating for awhile like they're high school sweethearts (even tho he's a drop out) and before he got arrested she got pregnant.

Could you write how that looks. Like phone calls, and letters, and visits, but also write when he gets out and he gets to finally see his kid

hi love! ty for requesting🩷 idk if you wanted a little blurb but you got this big ass fic lmao, sorry i got carried away! also in this custer was never killed at Fez's house so he only got charged with drug possession and given like one or two years because he's a first time offender (i think?) ik it's all over the place but i hope you like it;)

fezco x pregnant!reader

warning: mentions of drugs/drug abuse, murder, jail, pregnancy, throwing up, giving birth, infant care, Fez's dad is mentioned once, religious imagery/mentions of praying, lots of crying.

wc: ± 4530

a/n: this is so similar to my other fez fic but also not at all lol. I tried changing it up as much as possible but there are def a lot of similarities I'm sorry. not proofread!

gif not mine, all credit to original creator.

You and Fez met back when he was still in school, just before he had dropped out. He sat next to you in History and the two of you would only talk briefly, often just about things like what the date was or when the next period would be. He would occasionally crack a joke or make a lighthearted comment that would always catch you off guard.

He was a normally stoic and calm person; he didn't talk much and kept to himself most of the time. This made you appreciate the rare jokes and little bursts of personality even more. You quickly found yourself talking more and more with him, and he'd start greeting you when you passed each other in the hallways. You had considered him somewhat of a friend after a while. Maybe not the closest, but you valued the little time you two would spend together.

Then he started showing up to class less and less, and rumors had begun spreading around. A few weeks before he dropped out, he had asked you if he could copy your notes that he had missed while absent, and you agreed. He told you to drop them off at the convenience store his grandmother owned, because that's where he spent most of his afternoons.

You did this every time he didn't show up to class; you'd write him all the notes neatly and bring them to him at the store, and in return he'd let you take whatever you want from the shelves free of charge. You always took the same thing (a can of Sprite, a packet of Sun Chips and a pack of cherry flavored twizzlers), and after a while he had started keeping the three items at the counter, ready for you to grab when you came around. One day he asked you if you'd like to stay a while before heading home, and you spent your afternoons sitting on the roof of the convenience store eating your treats and talking about whatever came to mind.

You never asked him why he wasn't at school, or even asked yourself why you'd go through all this trouble for him. Maybe it was because you've always been way too nice for your own good, or maybe because you had a little crush on him. One day when you were on your way to give him the day's notes, he'd told you he was dropping out. When you asked why, he only replied with, "Have to take care of my grandma."

You didn't stop visiting him after he left school, and would go to the store every other afternoon, quietly doing your homework by the counter while he restocked the shelves. He never explicitly told you, but he enjoyed having you around. You never asked too many questions and you were always nice to him. He would say maybe too nice to count as just being friendly.

As time passed the two of you grew closer and closer. You had met his brother Ash and occasionally helped him with his grandmother, who you had only met briefly before she became ill, when you were making your rounds to drop of his notes.

A few months later he had asked you out, and you said yes. You haven't looked back since.

That was years ago, and this was now. Now, you were sitting on the lid of the toilet in the dead of night with a pregnancy test clasped tightly in your right hand, while the other covered your mouth in shock. The two red lines stared back at you tauntingly as you felt your head spin with anxiety.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with Fez's baby and you had no idea how you were going to tell him. You finished up, washing your hands and face and made your way to the bedroom you and your boyfriend shared. You hid the test in the drawer you kept your underwear in and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for your boyfriend to return home.

He arrived eventually, but you couldn't find the strength in you to tell him. You knew you had to eventually, you couldn't possibly keep this a secret for too long, but you were terrified. You had no idea what his reaction would be, and you feared the worst.

The night you finally did get the courage to tell him, was the same night he decided to almost kill Nate at a New Year's Eve Party. Your plan had been derailed once again and that night you found yourself sitting in the bathroom while you silently cleaned the cuts on his hands. You knew you couldn't tell him then, he was still on edge and filled with adrenaline from everything that had transpired. He was definitely not in the correct headspace for a revelation like that.

Everything after that night was an absolutely downward spiral.

With Faye moving in, Mouse getting killed in your house and ultimately Fez getting arrested after Custer had ratted him out, you found yourself at your wits end. He had been arrested and taken away right before your eyes, and you felt completely helpless as you watched him get dragged out of the now ruined house, with a distraught Ash clinging to you like a lifeline.

☆˚｡⋆

Fez was only given three years for drug possession with the intent to sell, considering he was a first-time offender. Three years may not have been much considering it could have been a much heavier sentence, but your stomach still churned at the thought that he would be away for that long. What about Ash and Marie? What about the store?

What about the baby?

You couldn't do this. It felt like the world was suddenly dropped on your shoulders as you watched the officers drag Fez out the court, and away from you.

You shot up from the uncomfy wooden bench and made your way to the closest bathroom, where you threw up the little food you managed to keep down this morning. When you finished you flushed the toilet and made your way to the sink to clean up. As you stared at your reflection in the dirty mirror, everything struck you at once like cold water being thrown in your face.

You were going to be alone. Alone and pregnant, having to look after Ash (who God willing, they don't take away from you) and his grandmother. You hadn't even realized you were crying until your reflection became blurry and your breathing erratic.

You went back home that evening, with a dreadful feeling deep in the pit of your stomach for what the future holds.

☆˚｡⋆

Fez had finally been approved for calls, and after not hearing anything from him in weeks you were ecstatic to finally hear his voice.

You had received a call from the jail where he was, following all the necessary steps and pressing all the necessary buttons before you got to talk with him. When you heard his voice say your name you had to stop yourself from breaking down right beside the telephone. It hadn't even been a month and you already missed him more than words could describe.

He said your name again in a questioning tone and you realized that you hadn't said anything in return.

"Fez?" was all you could force from wobbly lips as your grip on the phone tightened. "Yeah baby, it's me," he said quietly. "I miss you," you said trying your hardest not to sob. Gosh, you couldn't even think about asking him how he was doing, you just wanted him to know how much you needed him right now.

"I miss you too baby, so fucking much," he replied, "how are things going that side?" You inhaled sharply before answering. "I don't know," you answered truthfully, "I'm still trying to figure everything out right now. But okay I guess."

He hummed. "What about Ashtray, he around? Can I talk to him?" he asked. "Of course," you said before calling out to Ash, who was over the moon when he finally got to speak to his brother after so long. You saw him smile for the first time in months, and you were overjoyed at the sight.

When they were finished catching up he handed you the phone. "You still there?" you asked. "Yeah baby, but I only got like a minute left. Listen I'll call you back as soon as I can again okay?" he said. "Okay, goodnight. I love you so muh, Fez," you rushed out. "I love you too baby, so mu—"

He was cut off by the ending call and you placed the receiver of the telephone back on the wall.

☆˚｡⋆

You didn't know how to tell Fez you were pregnant over the phone, so you settled with writing him a letter. You told him how you were pregnant, and that you were planning on keeping the baby. A part of you already knew you were keeping the baby the moment you stared at the test in your hand. The thought of being pregnant now absolutely terrified you, but recently you had found yourself fantasizing about what the little one would look like.

Would it be a little girl or a boy? Would she have your nose, or your eyes? What would her soft hair feel like under your fingertips? What would her first word be?

You hadn't even realized you were already referring to the baby as "she". That was what made you realize you were already deadset on keeping the baby, whether Fez wanted to be apart of that or not, even though it pained you to think that way.

You nervously sealed the letter and sent it off, hoping for the best. Fez had called you the same day he received the letter.

"Hi Fez," you answered nervously.

"You bein' serious Y/N?" You knew exactly what he was referring to, so you took a deep breath before answering him. "Yes, I'm being serious," you said quietly. You could hear him sigh and curse under his breath before he spoke up louder. "How long you known?"

"From before the raid. But, before you say anything, I did want to tell you on New Years, but that shit with Nate happened and everything after that was a total shitshow," you breathed, "I'm sorry for not telling you earlier."

"Shit, it's alright ma I ain't mad, jus' a bit shocked," was all he said. There was a short silence between the two of you before he spoke up again. "I'm gonna be a dad?" he asked softly. "Yeah..." you said, waiting for anything to indicate how he felt about this. "I'm so sorry I can't be there wit' you for this," he said. That broke your heart. He wanted to there, wanted to be a father and the thought made your heart fill with joy.

"It's okay, we can't help the circumstances," you said. "Listen, I promise you imma be here wit you every step of the way, okay? Maybe not physically, but I want you to keep me updated on everthing alright?" he said. "Okay, I promise I will," you breathed, a smile stretching across your face. "Imma do right by you, baby, I promise. You ain't doin' this on your own."

You were sure your heart was going to explode. You were going to have a baby with Fez. The circumstances were the farthest from ideal, but you were hopeful that you were going to be able to do this. You were going to do this. For yourself, for Fez and Ash and for your baby.

☆˚｡⋆

The pregnancy was anything but easy, and it was even harder without Fez by your side. It helped that he showed his support in any way he could, like always calling and sending letters, checking up on you to stay updated with the condition of your baby. You were roughly at 3 or 4 months and by now the little bump was already visible.

Telling Ash was one of the things you were the most nervous about. You didn't know how he'd feel about a baby being bought into your living situation. You had sat him down and got straight to the point. When the words first left your mouth, his face twisted into an unreadable expression. He seemed to be mulling it over silently, before a small smile stretched across your face and he replied shyly with, "So I'm gonna like, be an uncle?"

☆˚｡⋆

The letters you frequently wrote Fez were on of the only things he looked forward to. He loved reading them, reading about how you were doing and everything that was happening with your body and with the baby growing inside you. It sometimes fet like he got to experience the pregnancy right there beside you, with the way he could clearly indicate your mood swings even in your writing.

The letter would quickly go from I saw an old couple sitting by the old park benches today and I broke down in tears to The guy at the drive-thru told me I couldn't order 'just pickels'. Imagine saying no to a starving pregnant lady!

When he received the letter with a small black and white attached to it, he nearly cried. The little ultrasound picture didn't look like much, you could barely make out the big white blob in the middle as a baby, an actual human being. He turned the picture around and saw that you had written our baby! in your messy handwriting, with a little heart at the end. That was all he needed to actually start crying.

That night he couldn't fall asleep at all. His mind was filled with a million thoughts that were consuming him. What if something happens to her or the baby while I'm in here? Will she be able to cope on her own? What's she gonna do once the baby is born?

What if I'm not a good father?

That's what was eating at him more than anything else. He didn't want to be like his own father, and his worst fear was eventually ending up like him, no matter how hard he tried not to. He didn't want his kid to hate him, he wanted to be the best dad he could be, because he already knew that you were going to be the absolutely best mother any child could ask for. He knew because he saw the way you cared for Ash, like he was your own little brother. He also knew that you had a big heart. When you loved, you loved with everything in you, so he didn't have an inkling of doubt about you being a good mother.

That was the night he had promised himself that he would be the best father that he could be for your child and that he'd give them the love and support he never received from his dad.

☆˚｡⋆

By now you had finally been approved for your first visit, and you were over the moon. The first time you visited you went alone, and when Fez saw you walking into the cold room, a slight waddle to your step and a cute little bump sticking out from your pretty pink sundress and cardigan, he swears he had fell in love with you all over again. You looked so beautiful, he thought, maybe more beautiful than you've ever been.

Maybe it was the pregnancy glow people would always refer to, or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen you in months, but he couldn't get the dopey smile off his face as you made your way to the table where he sat.

You were permitted to a brief embrace and kiss at the beginning and end of each visit, and when he wrapped his arms around you for the first time in months, and got to inhale the smell of your almost unfamiliar perfume, he didn't ever want to let you go ever again. His grip on you tightened a little bit and you had to will away the tears threatening to spill over your cheeks when you felt his warmth consume your body. It felt like home being back in his strong arms.

"You're gonna squish the baby," you said playfully, placing a kiss on his shirt over his heart. You honestly didn't mind at all; you'd let him hold you like this forever if you could. You eventually broke away when you saw the guard giving you a unhappy look from the corner of your eye. You sat down on the cold metal bench and he found his seat accross from you.

You so badly wanted to hold his hand while you talked to him. You wanted to sit next to him and feel the warmth of his body radiating off him and bury your face into his neck and hold onto him for dear life, but you couldn't.

"Y'know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" he asked. You absent-mindedly tapped your manicured nails against the metal table that separated you two, until the guard had given you a stern look from behind Fez, by now irritated by the repetitive sound. You retracted your hands, placing them in your lap and shaking your head. "No, I'm finding out at the next appointment," you smiled, "do you still have the photos I sent you?"

You were referring to the ultrasound photos as you had sent him in letters from all your appointments. "Of course I do," he smiled, "keep 'em in my cell, under my pillow." You smiled, looking down at your belly and softly running your hand over it.

"I think it's gonna be a girl," you said softly, as if it was some secret only the two of you had the right to know. "Nah, it's a boy," he replied and you rolled your eyes playfully, which made him laugh. "Of course you think it's a boy," you joked. He shrugged "I'm still gonna love 'em whether they a boy or a girl," he said, before adding, "but it's gonna be a boy."

You rolled your eyes at him once again, this time more dramatically, and rubbed at your belly. "I just know it's going to be a little girl," you said, and when you looked up from your belly your eyes met Fez's. They were filled with an immeasurable amount of admiration and love, and you couldn't help but shy away from the attention.

"If it's a girl, I hope she look like you."

☆˚｡⋆

The last few weeks of your pregnancy you had asked your mother to stay with you until it was time to go and give birth. By now your belly was fully formed and perfectly rounded, and you were waddling around the house like a lost penguin. Everything was hurting, from your feet to your back and pregnancy brain was truly kicking your ass. As much as you loved the beauty of pregnancy, you couldn't wait to finally get this over with.

You were on the phone with Fez when you had first felt it, the liquid running down your legs followed by a slight cramp in your abdomen. At first you were scared that you had peed yourself (your bladder had been your number one enemy recently) but it didn't take long to realize what was happening.

Without even sparing Fez another word you hung up and called for your mother. This was it, you were finally going meet your baby.

Ash was shitting bricks as he paced around the house while you and your mother gathered everything to head to the hospital. Soon enough you found yourself in the hospital, with your arms leaning on the bed trying to control your breathing. The pain felt like nothing you've ever felt before, and at some point you thought you were going to pass out.

A little while later and you had started to dilate. After what felt like a lifetime of mindless pushing and incoherent shouts, the screaming of your baby girl filled your ears. You looked next to you, to your mother who was still holding onto your hand tightly while her other hand pushed the hair out of your sweaty face. You were beyond grateful to have her with you, but your heart yearned to have Fez with you for this moment. When you got to hold your baby in your arms you cried like a crazy person. She was so beautiful, and your heart was already filled with abundant love for her.

☆˚｡⋆

You've had baby Eden at home for almost two weeks, when you finally got a call from Fez.

"How'd it go baby? Is she healthy? Are you okay?" he had asked as soon as he heard your voice greeting him. You pressed the phone tighter between your ear and your shoulder. "She's as healthy as can be, and she's beautiful, Fez," you said happily, as you rocked the baby in your arms to sleep. "You gonna send me a picture of her?" he asked.

"I already have a few taken, I just have to get them printed then I'll send them to you," you smiled, "she's so beautiful, Fez." You knew it was a little biased, but she truly was the most beautiful baby you'd ever seen. Her pretty long eyelashes that rested on her chubby cheeks and the pretty pink lips that would sometimes streatch into a toothless smile, or her cute button nose that would scrunch up when she yawned or sneezed. Everything about her was so absolutely perfect.

"I can't wait to see yall ma," he whispered. You could hear the slight sadness in his voice. "Me neither," you replied with a sad smile.

☆˚｡⋆

He had no doubt when you told him that Eden was a beautiful baby, but when Fez got to see a picture of her for the first time, all the air was knocked out his lungs.

That was his baby. His baby girl, wrapped tightly in a fluffy pink blanket and a little cap to match. He couldn't stop looking at the picture, his thoughts going at a hundred miles per hour. Fez hadn't seen a lot of babies in his life, but he was one thousand percent certain that Eden was the most beautiful baby he'd ever layed his cynical eyes on.

He couldn't remember the last time he prayed, but that night Fez found himself closing his eyes and praying. He prayed that you and your baby were kept safe, he prayed that his baby girl would stay healthy and happy, and he prayed for the patience to diligently serve his sentence, counting down the days till he got to hold you both.

☆˚｡⋆

You sat in shock as you read the contents of the letter over and over and over.

Fez was going to be released from jail earlier for good behavior. He was coming home, to you, to Ash and his friends and to his baby. He was going to meet his daughter.

Ever since giving birth you hadn't brought Eden along with you when visiting Fez. She was still very young, and you didn't want her driving the long distances back and forth. This unfortunately meant that Fez hadn't got to meet his daughter yet. That was changing soon though.

☆˚｡⋆

You were pacing back and forth in the house, waiting for Fez to come knocking at your door. Today was the day Fez was coming home, back to his family, back to you.

He had to go through several release preparations, then pre-release custody and then supervision. After he complete those steps he had a full release from the BOP system, and they arranged transportation for him to come back home.

He had asked you to not tell anyone about him coming home, he didn't want people bothering him and wanted to spend his first night in just the company of the people he loved the most. You had kept to your word and not told a soul, not even Ash, who you knew would soon be jumping out of his skin when he gets to see his brother.

You had Eden in your arms, gently rocking her back and forth to soothe her. She was a little cranky because she didn't get her afternoon nap in, and when she finally dozed off, you went to go place her in the small crib next to your bed.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other nervously, before checking that everything was good. The food was cooked, the house cleaned and the bed covered in clean sheets.

The hard knock on the door almost made you drop the pie you had taken out of the oven. It was custard pie, his favorite. You removed your oven mits and sprinted to the door.

When you opened it, there stood Fez with a small smile on his face. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him as close to you as possible. He was here. He was back home with you finally and you got to hold him for as long as your heart desired.

By now you were sobbing into his neck, beyond relieved and happy to finally have him home. When you broke away he looked down at you, tears in his own eyes.

"Hi," he breathed. "Hi," you replied through a half sob half laugh. "You're home." "I'm home."

Ash had cried when he saw his brother standing in the living room awkwardly, and wrapped his arms around him tightly, almost as if he was scared of losing him once again. Once everyone had settled down somewhat, you decided to ask Fez the big question.

"Do you wanna see her?"

☆˚｡⋆

The room was dead silent as you pushed open the door and made your way inside, Fez following soon after. You could see the anxiety written on his face, evident in the slight tremble of his hands. This was a very big deal to him. He was going to meet his daughter for the very first time.

You made your way over to the crib, standing next to it and urging him to do the same. He warily moved closer to the crib, looked over the edge and down to where the little girl layed peacefully assleep. He could see the small rise and fall of her chest as she breath rhythmically, and the way her two small fists layed clenched tightly next to her body. If he listened closely enough he could hear her breathing, and the soft cooing sounds in between.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" you asked quietly, and he only nodded, not once lifting his gaze. "Would you like to hold her?" This made him look up at you. A part of him wanted to say no. He didn't want to hold something as precious as her in his hands. Hands that have done shameful and awful things, much too tainted to handle something as fragile and irreplaceable as her.

"It's okay, Fez," you said, sensing his hesitation, before reaching into the crib to pick her up gently. When she was secured in your grasp, you turned your body to him and he hesitantly reached out to take her from you.

Once she was in his arms the small tears began to fall from his eyes. You rubbed his back comfortingly as you watched him closely.

Nothing that Fez had ever achieved in his life measured even closely to this moment. No amount of money or fortune would make him trade this. This was it. This was him, being home and being able to be with you, with his family.

His grandmother had taught him the importance of family and looking out for each other. She taught him that the family he'd have would be the people he was willing to die for, and as he stood in the quiet room, his daughter in his arms and you by his side, he knew that he had found his family.

He looked over to you, and when his eyes met yours he saw the contented look on your face, behind all the happy tears.

"She looks like you," he smiled.

[sturncakez]

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ෆ

contains: bsf!chris, plot, smut, oral (fem receiving), n fingering.

reader discretion is advised.

christopher owen sturniolo. your bestfriend, but also the love of your life.

you’ve known him and his brothers matt, nick, and justin ever since you were little.

your father and jimmy have been extremely close since they grew up with each other, and of course passing the tradition along, they wanted their children to do the same. despite you being an only child.

you loved all of the boys equally, of course. but you seemed to gravitate towards chris. growing up you couldn’t tell why, but as you got older it seemed to be more obvious. i mean, look at the boy. he’s perfection.

there were so many reasons why you used this word to describe him. but you couldn’t even wrap your finger around just one.

was it the way his beautiful blue eyes shined in the summertime? or was it the way he was so calm and caring, only when it came down to you? perhaps it was the way you guys treated each other, almost like you guys were soulmates, but with no real feelings attached.

you can go on and on about him. his soft and dark locks that seemed to shine with no effort, his listening skills, eye contact that could and always easily melted your heart away, the way it felt like you guys could talk for ages for hours, or even days. in your eyes he had zero flaws, and as you got older, you realized you were in love with your bestfriend.

ྀིྀི

you’re seventeen now. junior in highschool. you peaked quite early to say the least. you’ve had confidence ever since you were young, but as the years went by it’s gotten better and better.

what type of person would chris be to not notice that? he was your “bestfriend” of course.

you had your own sense of taste and style, and your personality wasn’t like the rest. the last thing you would want to do was fit in with any girl at somerville.

little did you know that this is what made chris fall inlove with you. but you being oblivious, you payed no mind to that. thinking that there was no way in hell that your best friend of 15 years would ever feel the same.

one thing you really liked about yourself was your music taste. you had at least 6 favorite artists, but the neighbourhood being your absolute fave. you listened to them all the time. getting ready, in your car, during class, whenever.

one of your favorite songs by the band was softcore. it was your comfort song growing up, and you felt like you could relate to some of the lyrics given the situation with you and chris.

‘..you’ve been my muse for a long time

you get me through every dark night..

i’m always gone, out on the go

i’m on the run and you’re home alone..’

the lyrics touched you physically when you listened to that song for the first time. it was true. chris was your muse. he did get you through every single dark night. when your parents were fighting almost every single night as a kid, or that time they were so focused on your grades instead of your mental health. you were way too young for all of that to happen to you. chris was the one that got you through all that. no one else. it’s almost like if you didn’t have him you would break.

another reason why you felt so touched by those lyrics is because you were almost always out of the house.

it was an escape from reality for you. whether it was walks in the park, going to parties, or sneaking out. chris on the other hand, was the exact opposite.

ྀིྀི

it was friday, but today was different. you weren’t in the mood for anything today. every few months your body gave out from all of the constant going out you would do. you decided maybe tonight was the night you would be an average teen girl and just stay home and watch movies. you were pretty tired anyway.

you decided to just binge watch 2000’s movies and fall asleep watching baylen levine. those plans seemed to be interrupted though, as you heard a ‘ding’ noise coming from your phone.

confused, because your phone always seemed to be on do not disturb, you checked to see who it was. forgetting that there was only one person that you allowed yourself to get notifications from.

it was chris.

chris: Hey

Was just wondering if you wanted to come over, nick n matt are gone for a bit and i’m pretty bored 😭

If not it’s fine tho

your heart began to pound in your chest as you stayed staring at the message. realizing you had your read receipts on you immediately jumped back into reality and began typing away a reply.

should you say yes? or should you say no? you told yourself you wouldn’t let your crush change anything between you guys but something felt different today..

a feeling lurking inside of you telling you that you couldn’t hold it back.

you started to type away.

you: ofc i’d loved to come over

just give me like 10 mins to get ready

chris: Alr np, just text me when you’re otw

you received a sick feeling in your stomach getting that last text. nonetheless, you got up out of your bed and began getting ready.

you threw on a cropped white tee and comfy sweatpants. it didn’t really matter what you wore around chris, and you didn’t think much of what he thought either. because of this you decided to not throw on a bra thinking it wouldn’t matter, but oh were you wrong.

after throwing on your outift and popping your gold hoops and remaining jewelry in, you put your hair in a low half up, got your belongings, and headed out while texting him you were on the way.

it wasn’t that far of a drive to chris’s, his house only being a few blocks away. you parked in the driveway and contemplated going in.

ྀིྀི

finally, you knocked. letting him know of your arrival.

you could hear his footsteps on the other end of the door, and the clicks and clacks of him unlocking it.

“heyyy! i missed you kid!” he exclaimed joyfully, pulling you into an embrace.

“i missed you too, chris! how have you been?” you replied back, feeling as safe as a baby in their mothers arms with him.

“bored outta my mind honestly man. nick and matt have been out for hours, and fortnite was started to get boring believe it or not.” chris said back as he pulled you in, shutting and locking the door behind you.

“surprised to hear that coming from you chris. so was hanging with best friend of fifteen years a last resort or what?” you said in a playful tone while taking off your shoes.

“kinda didn’t wanna bother you ‘cause i thought you had better things to do” chris replied.

you chuckled and looked up at him. “okay so what now?”

chris sighs. “movie?” he says with a cheesy smile on his face.

“gosh you know me so well” you respond back to him.

“kid i’ve known you since we were 2, ‘course i do.”

silence lingers in the air for a while as you both just stare at each other. a smile starts to creep up chris’s face as he full on lunges towards you and picks up right off of the ground as if you weighed nothing. you squeal “CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK PUT ME DOWN!” as he begins running up the stairs to his bedroom and throwing you down onto his bed. this was one of his many ways to mess with you. “calm down kid i wasn’t gonna throw you that hard.” he replies and starts to laugh his ass off as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

you just start to look at him as he laughs, loving the way his smile is, and adoring the sound of his laugh — which most may call obnoxious.

“you’re insane i hope you know that.” you reply.

after he calms down from his laughing fit that seemed to last ages, a moment of silence begins to brew again. lasting longer than the first time. this time was different though. the eye contact didn’t seem like ‘friendly’ eye contact, but at the same time you never really had that eye contact with each other in the first place.

you start to look down at his lips. and right now, in this moment, they looked as delectable as ever. something about them. the rosy pink color they had, the same one displayed on his cheeks. the way they were plump and looked kissable. so kissable.

a feeling started to brew in your stomach. butterflies.

you could tell chris felt the same way. he looked down at your lips, admiring the brown and pink colors. before you could even get a breath out, his lips collided with yours. the kiss was perfect, more than that. they fit so well together, like a mold. he held your the side of your face as you began to straddle on-top of his lap.

but suddenly, you stopped. “wait chris..i’m not sure if..we should be doing this.” you said as you catched your breath, realizing what had just taken place seconds ago.

“baby it’s fine, i’ve been wanting this, wanting you, for as long as i could remember. you’re fine, i promise.” chris replies.

something about the way he said that..his words. its like you could feel them in your heart. you replied a shy “okay” and smiled as you started to kiss him again. this time the kissed last longer, and began to get steamier and steamier.

chris quickly dominated the kiss, interlocking his tongue with yours. it was messy but you loved it. and it definitely made you wet. chris on the other hand was going insane. more blood instantly began flowing to his dick, making his already erect cock even harder. struggling to hide it, he knew he had to do something. he broke the kiss, making you whine in disappointment.

you got used to the feeling of his pillow soft lips. “i know baby, i know.” chris said as he instantly understood how you were feeling. he began to kiss the side of your lip, then your jawline, moving down to your neck. he started to kiss and suck the soft skin and went harsher and harsher as he went lower and lower.

“can i take this off baby?” he said, motioning to your shirt. “mhm.” you replied, making him frustrated. “i need your words mama.” “yes chris, you can take this off!” you said chuckling a bit. chris’s eyes began to wander and they immediately went to your nipples. them being hard as it was cold in his room. “such a fucking slut not wearing a bra around your bestfriend hm?”

as if you weren’t wet enough, his words immediately had your panties even more soaked. chris dipped his head down as he started to swirl his tongue around your nipples and suck. he began to leave dark purple marks all over your skin, letting you know you were his. a thought began to linger in your mind. were you too young for this? i mean, you guys were only seventeen.

but all thoughts were swept away as chris added stimulation to your clit, using one hand and using the other to massage your right breast. you’ve had only two sexual experiences in your life so far, the first one being a girl and the second a guy, neither being able to satisfy you right. but chris, chris was different. “take your pants off for me ma, panties too.” you immediately obeyed his directions and looked back up at him eager to see what was next “so perfect for me baby, all just for me.” your heart melted.

“lay down f’ me.” you laid down on the bed as you patiently waited for his next move. chris began to take his shirt off and started to kiss all over your body again. starting from your neck down to your stomach, and making the kisses slow and sensual, making sure you were blessed with the right amount of satisfaction. you began to let out whines and moans signaling you wanted more than that, the feeling already being beyond immaculate. chris started to kiss lower and lower and pried open your legs.

he stared for what felt like hours, but was probably only seconds. “oh my fucking gosh ma, you’ve been hiding all this from me?” chris said as he began to lick and suck on your thighs, devouring all the remnants of your arousal. you began to whine even more. that’s when chris ducked his head even lower and began to lick at your entrance. “mmmmm” he groaned at the taste, tasting sweet and saltiness.

he began to flatten his tongue against your clit, making you moan as loud as ever. before you could even get a word out he began to fuck you with his tongue. “h-holy fuck chris!” he started to slurp and suck repeated on your weeping pussy. you looked down at him seeing a mess of your arousal and his spit forming on his face. “yes yes yes! oh myyy, oh my fuck baby” you moaned loudly. “hmmm you like that ma?” chris groaned into your pussy, the vibrations immediately going straight to your core, making you wrap your thighs around his head.

chris instantly put his head up and stared into you. “keep your hips down or i’ll stop. understand?” chris said demandingly. you’ve never seen that side of him, but oh did it turn you on even more. “ ‘m sorry baby just please, please keep going..” your wish was his command as he immediately went back to eating you like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. like a starved lion. the dirtiest slurping, slushing, and gushing sounds could be heard from chris’s room. “ohhh my godddd” you moaned, feeling your orgasm start to build up. chris started to suck faster and faster, it was inhumane at this point. he groaned repeatedly knowing it would go straight to your core. “fuck chris i can’t- i can’t take it!” as soon as the words left your mouth and whipped out his fingers, stuck his head up and said “spit.” in the most devilish tone.

you spat into his hand. “good fucking girl.” chris said, as he stuck two of his fingers into your hole that was practically begging to be fucked with his fingers. maybe even his cock. his began to thrust into you slowly letting you get used to the pain, and then started to go faster, as if there was no tomorrow. you squealed and moaned out of intense pleasure not knowing how much longer you could take it for.

not even being able to think straight, chris added a third finger. he stared at your convulsing body and groaned “take it. take my fucking fingers in that tight fucking pussy of yours like the whore you are.” and that was it. those were the last words you heard before you saw flashing of your squirt exiting your body and your vision going white.

chris enjoyed seeing this, knowing that the pleasure he gave you was so intense that you couldn’t even signify him of when you were about to cum. letting you ride out your high, he slide out his fingers and sucked them, moaning a bit. you looked up at him with the most fucked out look in your eyes. “that was. the hottest. thing. i’ve ever seen.”

“i don’t know how i’m still alive after that. that was amazing chris.” you replied in awe. “you’re amazing.” chris said as he began to lean in and kiss you. “you like the way you taste huh?”

you moaned into the kiss signifying your answer. he broke the kiss saying “you did such a good job for me baby. so so good.” you looked at him and smiled. letting out a small “thank you.” “so..where does that leave us now?” chris says.

he didn’t get to finish yet.

- rosa speaks

hi guys this is my very first fic anddd smut. it is loosely based off of the song ‘softcore’ by my favorite artists of all time the neighbourhood!! this is for @annamcdonalds67 writing comp so when i saw this song up there i was so fucking happy. pls lmk what u think of this n if u want a pt. 2 i’ll happily make one.

- also sorry to all the ppl i tagged that don’t like 2 be tagged if they aren’t notified beforehand, i finished this way later than i was supposed to and i was supposed to dm ppl n ask if they wanted to be tagged but i don’t have time. sorry again but i hope u guys like it! ALSOOO COMMENT A PINK HEART IF U WANNA STAY ON MY TAGLIST FOR THE FUTURE 🩷🩷🩷

@musegyra @recklesssturniolo @stunza @sturnphilia @sturnsdoll @pinksturniolo @suyqa @thesturniolos @hoesformatt @mattscoquette @sturnrockwell @sturn777 @slut4chriss @thenickgirl @m9ttsverse @medilovesmatt @stars4chratt @slutz4sturniolos @mattbf

[atzaurora]

╰┈➤ ɪɴᴛᴏxɪᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] mіძᥒіgһ𝗍 mᥱᥣ᥆ძіᥱs

❥ 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓: Hongjoong

➤ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: fem!idol!songwriter!reader x idol!songwriter!hongjoong

➤ 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔: imagine (smut)

➤ 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: group members, good friends

.ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ: 18+/smut/suggestive content, MDNI!!!, unprotected sex

➤ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Stuck in the studio late at night with Hongjoong and who knew, what you were writing in the song would turn into reality...

➤ 𝒘/𝒄: > not counted <

➤ 𝒂/𝒏: as you can see I changed my theme for my blog >.< I hope y'all like it! anyways enjoy this fanfic with Hongjoong

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]!

[𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕]here!

about me, my writings, request rules [𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆]

It was late at night, too late to form a straight thought around all of the work in front of you.

Being in the songwriting position alongside Hongjoong could be a blessing and a curse at the same time. You loved writing songs, putting your all into the lyrics but you hated how long you and him had to stay up sometimes just to find the right words.

Eventually the words came to your minds as you sat there scribbling it down onto a piece of paper and testing out some beats that could fit the vibe of the song. Hongjoong groaned, leaning back into his chair, his hands covering his eyes in exhaustion.

"Shit, it's so late already," he glanced at you, lowering the hands from his face. "Do you want to go to sleep? You must be tired already?"

You smiled at how he looked out for you but shook your head. "No, it's alright. Plus, we both should write the song. I don't want to leave you to it all alone."

He nods approvingly. "Yeah, you're right. But before you collapse please tell me, we can always continue tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes, I know, but I'm fine, I'm not that tired." It was sort of a lie to be honest because in fact you were tired already. You turned back to face the paper.

Hongjoong’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips before he turned back to his notebook. The two of you worked in silence, the only sounds being the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional sigh of frustration. The lyrics were shaping up nicely, weaving a tale of forbidden desire and hidden passion.

As the night wore on, the words on the page grew increasingly sensual. The group had agreed earlier on doing a song a little more explicit than usual just to test it out.

Hongjoong’s voice softened as he read aloud a particularly provocative line. “Your touch ignites a fire, burning with forbidden desire…” He trailed off, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. There was something different in his gaze, something darker and more intense.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, the atmosphere in the room shifting palpably. “That’s... perfect,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Hongjoong’s eyes stayed locked on yours, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah? You think so?” He leaned closer, his hand brushing against yours as he reached for a pencil. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Definitely,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. You tried to focus on the paper in front of you, but the proximity of Hongjoong was making it difficult to concentrate. His cologne, a mix of cedarwood and vanilla, was intoxicating.

As the song continued to take shape, the lyrics grew bolder, more explicit. You could feel the tension building between you, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Hongjoong’s touches became more frequent, more deliberate. His fingers would linger on yours a moment too long, his knee would brush against yours under the table.

It was becoming harder to ignore the growing heat between you. Finally, Hongjoong put his pen down, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “I think we’ve got something really special here,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Don’t you think?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah, we do.”

Hongjoong’s gaze was intense, his eyes dark with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You know,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, “some of these lyrics... they make me think of you.”

Your breath hitched, the air between you charged with electricity. “Hongjoong...” you whispered, your voice trailing off as he leaned closer

“Tell me if I’m out of line,” he said softly, his lips just inches from yours. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft and insistent. You melted into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The notebook and pens scattered to the floor as Hongjoong lifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling his waist.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent. His hands roamed over your body, exploring and caressing. You could feel the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against you, sending a thrill of excitement through your body.

Hongjoong’s lips trailed down your neck, sucking and nibbling, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. You moaned softly, your hips grinding against him as you sought more friction. His hands slipped under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“God, Y/N,” he groaned, his lips returning to yours in a heated kiss. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You rocked your hips against him, feeling the heat between you growing. “Show me,” you whispered, your voice breathless.

Hongjoong didn’t need any more encouragement. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you over to the couch in the corner of the studio. He laid you down gently, his body covering yours as he kissed you deeply.

Your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. He helped you, shrugging off his shirt and tossing it aside before returning his attention to you. His hands slid under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head.

His lips found your breasts, sucking and licking, drawing soft moans from your lips. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your body arching towards him as he continued his ministrations.

“Hongjoong, please,” you gasped, your need for him growing unbearable.

He smiled against your skin, his hands moving to unbutton your jeans. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise.

As he removed the last of your clothing, you could feel the cool air of the studio against your heated skin. Hongjoong’s eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of pure desire. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips capturing yours once more.

His hands and lips explored every inch of you, leaving you breathless and wanting. When he finally positioned himself between your legs, you could hardly stand the anticipation.

You felt his body heat radiating against your own skin, making you feel hot despite the fresh breeze from the air conditioner.

He took his dick into one of his hand, the other one holding your waist down, in a firm grip. His tip grazed your hole, drawing circles around it.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice filled with need. “Please, Hongjoong.”

He entered you slowly, the sensation overwhelming. You gasped, your nails digging into his back as he began to move. The rhythm he set was slow and deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. “You feel so good.”

You could only moan in response, your body arching towards his as the pleasure built. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts.

Your hips lifted away from the soft fabric, which each thrust, only for him to take your sides and press them down. "Come one, doll, stay put."

The sound of your combined moans and the slap of skin filled the room, the intensity of your connection leaving you breathless.

His cock slammed harder into you, burying himself deeper and hitting your gummy spot. "R-right there," you whimpered, grabbing onto his wrists.

As you reached your peak, Hongjoong’s name fell from your lips in a breathless cry. He followed soon after, his body tensing as he found his release.

Your liquids mixed inside you, finding their way around his length and leaking out once he pulled out of you.

The two of you lay there for a moment, catching your breath. Hongjoong’s hand brushed a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with tenderness. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his thumb caressing your cheek.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips. “Yeah, I’m more than okay.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you into his arms. “Good. Because I don’t think I can ever get enough of you.”

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling content and happy. As you lay there in the afterglow, you couldn’t help but think that this night had changed everything.

[ewreckedshin]

yandere!Aventurine x obsessed reader

Word Count: 1,143

Brief Description: Self-aware Aventurine poses as an online friend and "consensually" kidnaps you into the game, yandere x yandere type of situation

Brief-er Note: Miraculously people actually saw my last post, therefore I made the spacing slightly less atrocious but the grammar’s gonna stay shit for the balance

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Just imagine… one day you get a strange friend request. You must’ve declined this person a thousand times, wanting to keep your friend list clear as you didn’t need any pesky real people in this space reserved only for your precious Aventurine. 

But fine, they were persistent enough that you cave, curious to see what they possibly wanted. The first thing you notice is that they had no profile picture at all, and named themselves “Aventurine”

“Must be one of those roleplay people,” you muse.

Then they’re messaging you daily, always checking in on you, speaking as though they were the character himself. And poor you, your delusional heart couldn’t take it anymore. You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with Aventurine as your HSR “friend” provides you with unlimited conversations that only serve to add more dimensionality to his character, making him feel like a real person

Slowly your life grew increasingly dull and colorless, while the sole center of your will to live became the charming blonde character with literal rose-tinted glasses and a captivating smile. 

Your online friend only encourages this behavior, claiming that you need Aventurine to feel good and everything else in this world only serves to take away from that. And of course, why wouldn’t you agree? Where’s the flaw in that logic?

At night time, you’re barely able to fall asleep due to the sheer excitement overflowing your body, pathetically wrapping an arm around yourself as if it were Aventurine holding you. 

If you only knew how he was watching you through the screen, luring you in closer and closer, waiting for the perfect moment to save you from your miserable dilemma. 

The truth was that a while back Aventurine had figured there was something off about the Trailblazer. Every day around the same time they would stop moving and stand there blankly, as if someone had shut them off from the outside.

He found the source that controlled the trailblazer and when he shut it off, he was met with a different face: yours. 

As the days passed Aventurine began to feel a strange connection with you, as though this world had a secret that only the two of you knew. There was nobody left in his world that he trusted, but you were different. 

You weren’t a part of his world… and he could tie none of its cruelty to you. You were his fresh start.

His skin crawled with impatience at hearing you speak but never getting to touch you. He would blush when you showered him with endless compliments… did you really mean everything you said? 

Aventurine becomes infatuated with all of your little mannerisms, memorizing the way you move, the fluctuations in your tone, how you had a habit of adjusting his character on the screen to mimic the height difference between you two in real life. What others would call creepily obsessed, Aventurine found adorable.

He’d hear you cry over the cruelty of your own world… and Aventurine had never felt more desperate, verging on the edge of insanity in his drive to find some method to communicate with you. He wanted you to use him to soothe any sorrows and even abandoned a business trip halfway through to find a way of communication.

Once he managed to access the messages that were in this “Honkai Star Rail” world he now knew he was a part of, he immediately sent a friend request only to be left wondering why you weren’t accepting it. Despite feeling devastatingly dejected, he persisted because he just knew he’d be the one to help you.

He tried to keep up his collected facade around his fellow IPC workers. He didn’t want them to find out anything about this, especially Topaz or Ratio.

One time a new worker almost caught him in the act. Almost. But it was enough to plant the seed of paranoia within him, that he might find out about your existence which was a secret only he was allowed to know of. The worker was never found again and Aventurine casually dismissed it as a runaway case, charming words instantly soothing their suspicions.

He was caught in a tug of war between selfish possession and the pure, unbridled need to be used by you however you pleased.

Normally Aventurine relies on mere chance… but for you, everything was precisely calculated. He would make sure that there was a 100% success rate.

When the moment is right, Aventurine messages you to close your eyes for a surprise.

He shuts off the trailblazer’s body, whispering half-sincere sorries as his heart pounded in excitement, knowing that once they were "asleep" he can bring you in. It was at this point that he realized he was too far gone, but he didn’t care about anything but you.

The first time he sees you in his world, you’re disoriented and glancing around in bewilderment. He awaits you with a calm smile and closed-off eyes, but you had spent so much time studying his appearance that you instantly saw the tremors behind his practiced expression, as though he were secretly incredibly nervous. 

He reaches out a single gloved hand, not quite touching you so as to not shatter the sweet illusion. His expression was steady but his bright pink pupils rapidly flicker all over your face. He’s waiting for you to make the first move, just so that he could immediately comply with anything you asked for.

You, on the other hand, had been repeating to yourself  “Aventurine is real” like a mantra 24/7 for the past few weeks. It didn’t take long for you to quickly accept your new situation although you felt like you could barely breathe from the intensity of your feelings at being inside of the HSR world.

Aventurine gets straight to the point and offers you a deal. “Come with me and I’ll take you to a paradise where it’s only the two of us for the rest of our lives,” he starts.

He’s sympathetic as he mentions the other choice, “I mean you could always choose to go back, but I don’t want you to live a meaningless life…” 

Aventurine truly means it when he uses the word “choice.” Although it would tear him to pieces, he knew he would gladly take the eternal pain of your rejection if that was what you wanted.

The answer was obvious to you: you felt as though you were drowning in an ocean of nothingness, and here was the one beacon of light in your life offering to save you.

You try not to look too desperate as you immediately say yes, eyes half-crazed as your hands slightly tremble from resisting the urge to hug him with all your strength. 

Luckily, he makes that choice for you the second he senses your stance and embraces your body, softly caressing your hair as he all but breathes you in. “As long as you desire it I will stay with you past anything. Feel free to use me as you wish.”

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💖Note:

I love the idea of a yandere situation where the obsession is reciprocated

I think this is gender-neutral but if I accidentally slapped the word pussy in there don't come for me (or do :D)

Anyways have a lovely day, may your thoughts be happy and dong be long :D =D

Unless you want a short one, you can have it don’t cry no pressure ;v;

Btw i haven’t slept in 2 days but that's ok because somewhere on ao3 an author hasn't slept in 2 years I'm sure

[animekpopsimp]

hey! I saw your post about Mha having a reader like Mitsuri and I was wondering if you could do a female s/o similar to Mitsuri.

MHA Characters with a S/O Similar to Mitsuri

Izuku

Izuku absolutely adores your personality and kindness, as well as your strength. He was surprised when you admitted that you had a crush on him, but he was happy that you felt the same. He knows you can be insecure about your appetite, but he doesn't judge you for it. And if someone tries to make you feel bad about yourself because of it, he's always there to cheer you up. You also cheer him up and make him feel better, which he really appreciates.

Katsuki

Your relationship with Katsuki started off rocky. He seemed to hate you at first, finding your overly positive personality annoying. However, after you beat him in a sparring match, he respected you, though he would never admit it out loud. He eventually confessed to you, and thus began your relationship. The two of you are considered a power couple. If anyone gives you any trouble, he will fight them without hesitation. And he doesn't mind your big appetite, he even cooks for you on occasion. He loves you a lot, and he shows it through his actions.

Shoto

When the two of you met, the two of you had very different options about being in a relationship. On top of wanting to be a hero to help people, you also wanted to find someone who would accept you for who you are. Shoto didn't see the need to get into a relationship, he was more focused on proving his father wrong. It seemed unlikely that the two of you would be friends, let alone fall for each other. However, over time, Shoto grew close with you. He admired your strength and kindness. He confided in you about his father, and you were always there to support him. When the two of you get into a relationship, Shoto is nervous. Part of him doesn't believe that he deserves someone like you. Despite that, Shoto is really sweet and caring. He will defend you if anyone tries to make you feel bad about yourself, he loves you and he won't let anyone upset you.

Momo

You met Momo when you were a little girl, both of your families being wealthy. Growing up together, the two of you had your own insecurities to deal with. None the less, you both helped each other. You were close friends for years, and as time passed the two of you developed feelings for each other. Momo was the one to confess, and the two go you started dating. Momo feels lucky that you feel the same, and you do as well. She's always there to make you feel better, and while she doesn't believe in getting into a fight if someone does say something bad about you, she will defend you with words. She can be surprisingly mean when she wants to.

Hawks

Hawks adores you, he fell in love with you the moment the two of you met. In the past, he never considered getting into a serious relationship, but he changed his mind when you came into his life. He dotes on you all the time, showering you with compliments and bringing you your favorite foods. The moment he notices you feeling insecure about yourself, he's right by your side, reassuring you that he loves everything about you. Hawks is your biggest supporter and would die for you.

Midnight

She's your biggest hype woman, she's always making you feel beautiful and will fight someone if they insult you. Her favorite thing to do with you is shopping, and she loves picking out new outfits for you, you both turn it into a fashion show every time. She also loves bringing you your favorite foods since it brings a smile to your face when she does. She wants nothing more than to make you smile all the time.

Aizawa

He may not show his affection publicly, but Shota is smitten with you. You balance each other out and you have a talent for making him smile. He finds your personality adorable The two of you have simple dates that mostly consist of staying at home and cuddling while a movie plays in the background. You two also enjoy having dinners together, the life you two have together is simple but you both love it.

Dabi

The two of you are the definition of total opposites. Dabi has an intimidating aura that scares people. You on the other hand are an absolute sweetheart. That's what Dabi loves about you, you give him a sense of peace that he hasn't experienced in a long time, so he cherishes the fact that you're in his life. Because of that, he's protective. He'll kill for you without hesitation. You're the only one he shows his soft side to, he just loves you.

Shigaraki

Shigaraki usually hates people, but you're the one person he can stand. Your personality makes him feel safe, and he won't let anything take you away from him. If he needed to kill for you, he would do so without question. He loves you a lot.

[gfguren]

pro hero!kirishima x reader | angst?, fluff, childhood friends→lovers, best friend!kiri my beloved, 2.8k (apparently??) | cw: cursing, reader wears a dress

-eighteen, and heartbroken, you ghost your best friend. years pass, as do old feelings; coincidence brings you back together again-

They say old habits die hard, your heartbeat rings true.

It's been years—six, at least. Since you've seen Kirishima. And he's still there, in the library of things you've loved, thumbed and beloved, worn at the spine where you once folded the pages, one over the other, carelessly. Always carelessly. As if they'd stay the same through all the wear and tear. You were—careless—after all, eighteen, and foolish, feelings too big for your heart.

But that was okay. It always was, with him. Wherever you wanted to go, whatever you wanted to do. He was happy as long as you were—and so, so good to you; it was childish of you, but you almost wished that he wasn't.

Maybe it was some kind of teenage rebellion that you pushed it too far. Some kind of lashing out, 'getting even', that you kissed other boys, pretended be head over heels in love with anyone, everyone, but Kirishima. Because you did—love him—and not in the way he loved you, you were sure.

Because if he had—really had—he would have hesitated, would have hurt. Wouldn't have vetted your dresses, or wiped the smudge from beneath your eyes. Wouldn't have told you how pretty you looked without really looking at you at all. Wouldn't have drove you to meet other boys, or dried your tears when they made you cry, like all of your other friends did. The kinds you didn't want to kiss. The kinds you imagined a future with, but not with kids and a dog and a white picket fence.

It was obvious for you, came natural as breathing, you'd known him your whole life. Skinned knees, and awkward school dances. Your very first kiss, though it meant nothing at the time. Just kids—curious, and reckless, and definitely not in love. You thought it'd be like that forever, made sense that he'd always be at your side; maybe that's why it hurt the way it did when, suddenly, he just wasn't.

That awkward boy—indecisive and boisterous, good natured and yours—Kirishima. Eijirou. Who earned his first bloody nose at the age of ten, defending your honor over something juvenile and stupid, who walked you home every day after school, hand in yours, always; (for safety, of course), who left half of his belongings on your bedroom floor, in your closet, atop your dresser—hoodies and gadgets and pens, chewed at the cap. That Eijirou—your Eijirou—would always, surely, make his way back to you, right?

But he doesn't.

When summer ends, he leaves—your school, the little town you both grew up in,

—and you.

To do something good, to be something more. And he was. And you were proud of him, so proud, to see him grow and become the hero he always dreamed of being. But maybe that scared you too, because suddenly your Eijirou didn't feel so much like yours anymore.

He's gone with hardly a notice, returns with all the confidence in the world—a completely new person in a matter of months. Red hair and a smile like summertime sunshine; your heart skips, cheeks flush, a name is put to the feelings you've felt for as long as you can remember, for the very first time.

But nothing's changed, not for Eijirou, at least, who still spends his vacations beneath your parents' roof, within the four borders of your bedroom, crisscrossed legs and laughter that sounds just like it always has. But it hits you—when he speaks—how much things have changed for you. The stories he tells, the friends he's made and the things he's experienced. They're his. Just his.

And it shouldn't bother you. That you don't know the name of his homeroom teacher, or what he packed for lunch last week. That he doesn't know about all the evenings you've spent alone, or how you broke into tears when that cute senior boy asked you to the yearly formal, because Eijirou had promised—pinky promised—all those years ago, that he'd be the one to take you.

But that was before he had training, and internships, and hero obligations; things far, far more important than you were, you suppose.

But it shouldn't bother you, right? Shouldn't hurt the way it does when he packs his things from your room at the end of summer. You lose him bit by bit; pens and gadgets, and comic books you bought for him every single birthday, without missing a year. He takes your ("his") very favorite hoodie—red and worn at the cuffs, a tear up the side where you wrestled him to the ground, at age twelve. Some petty fight you don't even remember, and how you didn't speak to him for a week; that felt like a lifetime, then.

You've half a mind to ask for it, know for sure he'd offer it happily, though you're not sure you have that right anymore. You no longer share his life, after all, and he doesn't share yours; it's not until you're older, much older that you realize just how hard he tried to make it work anyway.

The weekly calls and the long drives back home to just see you for a month, a week, a day. How he gets his license, at eighteen. Rushes home from an internship to drive you to the little ice cream parlor at the edge of town.

You're crying, over a boy—though your heart wasn't really in it. How could it be, when it's been checked out since the age of six? When the more years that pass, the more you fall for your very best friend, the stronger his absence becomes, the more bitter your heart grows. You're crying, over a boy—but not the one who stood you up.

You're just, frustrated, that he's oblivious to it all. Still. And so damn nice about it—always. That's he's perfectly content to dry your tears, has the audacity to tell you that guy was an idiot, totally unmanly, that 'any man would be lucky to have you'.

But not Eijirou. Never Eijirou.

And for the first time, you think you hate him. For missing the hearts in your eyes, and growing up just fine, without you. For talking like it's totally fine if you end up with someone that isn't him. And vice versa.

That he reaches for your hand on the way back to his car, like you're still just kids, and it means nothing at all.

—and that you let him; as if it means nothing to you either.

But fuck, it does. Always has. And maybe that's why you justify it, when you disappear after graduation—a new phone and town, and a future that doesn't include Eijirou. Kirishima. The way you're convinced he wanted; he's always been fine without you, after all.

It's petty and it's childish. And it's hard—like turning a page you've been stuck on your entire life—but you do, and the world doesn't end without him, like you thought that it might. You're fine, not even all that sad. Just a little empty for a while.

The years pass easily, as do old feelings and the ache in your chest. You get busy. With work, and hobbies, your dreams and hopes and aspirations. You don't have the time to dwell about what could have been.

At twenty-two, you fall in love, and it doesn't last. But not because there's someone stuck in your heart, like a thorn that just burrows deeper. Life happens, and you pull apart, naturally—like adults do—communication, and mutual agreement; the way you wish you'd been mature enough to handle your feelings all those years ago.

Maybe you'd still have your oldest friend by your side, then.

Somehow summer sneaks up on you, everytime—the third week of June, when you visit your parents in the same little town that's always changing. Streets busier than ever and pavement redone, ice cream parlor on the edge of town gone and replaced with a brick and mortar grocery. It makes it easier, you think, to not be reminded of Kirishima—and the way you left without so much as a goodbye.

You haven't forgotten him, far from it. Somehow you still find yourself in the comic section of the bookstore every October. But at some point, you forget his favorite foods and the way his hand felt in yours. When you see his house across the street, you think of his mother instead, and the way she greets you every time, like you're her second child. Her 'favorite', you used to joke.

It's bittersweet.

Six summers, and you manage to avoid him. Six summers and you come to terms with never seeing him again. Six summers, and he's there, suddenly—beneath your parents' roof, within the four borders of your childhood bedroom. Your heart beats like it might burst.

"Kirishima," you say, choking down your surprise with deep, careful breaths.

He turns to you then; four wooden borders squeezed carefully between two strong hands. The scar above his brow is baby pink, barely there, and he stands a little taller, you think, feels a little broader at the chest, and around his shoulders. You've seen him on tv, of course, in the news, in pictures, occasionally, but it's different—seeing him in person, after so long.

A true proper hero, standing there in your childhood bedroom, holding an old photo you'd all but forgotten about; two kids, faded ink and scuffed glass—hearts in your eyes, if he happened to look closer.

"Hi." His voice is a little deeper, smile a little softer when your eyes meet.

"Hi."

You feel a little helpless, truth be told. You'd spent so long avoiding him, so many years forgetting the casual conversation you'd once carried. You never considered what to say, if you were to meet again, never thought that you might. But here you are, after all this time.

You want to tell him you're proud, you think. The way you couldn't bring yourself to all those years ago. Want to tell him that you're sorry, for more reasons than one. Want to tell him he looks good, that you got the job he always said you would, that you worried about him, from time to time.

Instead, there's a tentative—"What are you doing here?"—that sticks in your throat.

As if it matters.

"Ran into your parents at the grocery," he answers, casually, "they asked me to stay for dinner."

And yet.

He sets the picture face up—where it once lied face down, forgotten in the eaves of your bookcase.

He's here; in your bedroom. Looking through your things, like he missed you.

You wring your hands together. Return the feelings you start to reach for, instinctively. A little book in the library of things you're predisposed to, catalogued under: Getting Ahead of Yourself.

"Are you?" the words are eager, the pages fall loose. You catch them, before he does. "Staying for dinner?"

It takes all of three steps, (you think it might have been five, once), for him to make his way from the bookcase to your bed. It creaks woefully when he sits, "Would that be okay with you?"

"Yeah," your voice nearly betrays you, "yeah, it would."

His shoulders unwind, chest falls. He breathes—easy. And then he laughs, boyish and yours.

"What's so funny," you gravitate towards him, naturally, suitcase forgotten at the door. The bed dips at his side and your shoulder playfully bumps his, "huh?"

The corners of his mouth crease at the edges, aged deep just like yours. "When did we become so boring?"

You hum—almost melancholy, picking at the splotches of red that still stain your comforter. "It's been six years, Kirishima."

"Yeah," he says, a little more pensive, "you look good."

Your heart skips, cheeks flush. Suddenly you're sixteen again, and pawing at the hem of your sundress, searching for his approval from the corner of your eye.

He's not looking at you, but it's different this time; or maybe it's exactly the same, and he's always been this way. Maybe you were just blind to it, sixteen and oblivious to the hand that wrings itself around the back of his neck, the red tinge that burns his ears.

But honestly, probably, you're searching for subtext that doesn't exist. Still, "So do you," the words come easy, "saw you at that award ceremony—on tv, I mean. Couldn't believe that was my Eijirou."

His head dips, eyes shimmer red; sweeter than wild strawberries. "Your Eijirou?"

'Yeah." You feel a bit self conscious, truth be told, though you've said it a hundred times. "Aren't you?"

His smile spreads like a yawn, from the depths of his chest, suddenly there and unshakable. Contagious—what was his, now yours as well. "Always have been."

Your chest tightens, every beat of your heart hammering at your ribcage. You still love him, after all this time. "How long will you stay?"

"Until dinner, at least."

"No, I mean," you sigh, heart spilling to your sleeves, "how long will you be in town?"

"I,-" It's lethargic, the way he blinks, throat bobs, smile falls, slow and pensive and so unlike him, "I moved back a while ago." Surprise washes over your face, rests in your brow, and he answers, before you have the chance to ask, "it's been two summers now."

You're not sure what that feeling is, gnawing at your heart and making you sick to your stomach—

"I'm sure you knew I came to visit," your voice is a murmur, eyes misty and searching for an excuse to meet everything but his, "you could have said 'hi'."

He hums, an almost sigh, "Wasn't sure you wanted me to."

—Guilt, that's what it is. It plummets, and swells, until you can feel it in your throat.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." A warm hand falls over yours, fingers curling—friendly, reassuring. You appreciate it for what it is. "I get it."

You've loved him for so long, known him for even longer, turned every page until the ink began to wear. But for the first time, you think you can see his heart bleeding between the lines.

"You're not doing that, don't you dare blame yourself, Kirishima Eijirou."

"You were lonely, weren't you? After I left for UA," his jaw goes rigid, every bit of shame clenched between his teeth, "should've tried harder to make it work, could've visited more often, could've taken an internship closer to home, could've,"

"—said," you click your tongue, stern as can be, "you're not doing that."

You pinch the corner of his sleeve, rolled red fabric over strong arms; he doesn't flinch at the coaxing, instead he turns to take your shoulders between his hands, "'m sorry."

You wrangle them from you, lying his palms at your lap, squeezed in between your own. "Damnit Ei, you didn't do anything wrong," you know for certain that he would've packed you in his suitcase if he could, would've dragged you along to every course and internship and oh-so-important hero happening, but you had your own life to live—and so did he. "You were following your dreams, who am I to get in the way of that?"

"My best friend, my other half, besides," his shoulders square, chest puffs, all brawn and ego and Eijirou; but his hands tremble unsurely, "I liked you," his wavering voice is still confident, somehow, confession long overdue, "and I'm sure that's not what you wanted to hear from me after so long, but," his hands leave yours to worry his hair, all finely gelled and pushed back, now tousled and falling softly at his forehead, "I didn't want to regret it for another six years."

You feel like you're drowning, pulled under a tide of feelings new and old. Confused, and euphoric, and so, so stupid. He liked you. He liked you and you never had a clue. The irony makes you dizzy.

Your head breaches the surface, and finally you can breathe, deep and burning lungs expanding, expanding, and trembling—a stream of salt and water hits your cheeks and falls past your lips. Eijirou is quick wipe away the tears, a palm at each cheek, wide eyed and worried. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry. Please don't cry, okay?"

You laugh and his expression eases, shoulders falling and fingertips thumbing softly at your skin. "Don't worry, Ei. I'm happy," you sniffle, fingers wrapping 'round his wrists; his pulse stutters at your index and you smile, "I liked you too, a lot," at age six, at eighteen, the year before last, and the year after that, and, and, "I still like you, I think."

His smile blooms, face brightens like sunlight in the peak of summer, warm against the tips of your fingers.

"Can I take you on a date sometime?" he asks, like it's the easiest thing in the world; maybe it always has been.

"Yeah." Your heart beats, a page turns. "I'd like that."