#Did Jesus celebrate His birthday?

[efraim7praise]

Is Christ The Reason For The Christmas Season?

“Jesus is the reason for the season!” Continue reading Is Christ The Reason For The Christmas Season?

[piastappies]

𝜗𝜚 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝜗𝜚

⋆ pairing. oscar piastri x verstappen!reader

⋆ summary. falling in love has never been on your radar, but when the cute, quiet guy finds his place in your heart, you try to cherish the rare, yet beautifully domestic moments. that is, until you hit the four years together mark and realise that your family probably doesn’t know.

GROWING UP YOU WERE CONVINCED BY THE circumstances that being loved must be earned. you had never put any thought into that — it was just the things were, at least that’s how you were brought up. if you did something your parents didn’t like, you were given a cold shoulder and — from time to time — a silent treatment. as a teenager, you came up with a… pretty saddening conclusion that love wasn’t worth it in the end, so you simply avoided any kind of romantic relationships.

to be completely honest, it wasn’t a hard task. all you ever wanted since you entered the awkward phase of your life, when you could make your own decisions, one of which was leaving your household as soon as it was only possible.

you had departed from your home around the age of fourteen, after lots of begging to let you study abroad had taken place. you were the youngest out of the three. your brother was already in formula one, when you were wearing a plaid skirt, a merlot blazer with the school’s logo, a matching necktie and a few more things that made max and victoria call you a posh, british girl. you didn’t mind it, you were glad to be out of the house, slightly distancing yourself from your family overtime.

the day you met oscar took place on the day of your eighteenth birthday. you and some friends had gone out to celebrate not only your birthday, but also your acceptance to the king’s college in london, giving you an opportunity to pursue your dreams of becoming a doctor. you were yet to tell your family about it, having lied to them about the date, wanting to have this moment to yourself.

you went out to a few bars before ending up in a club as the girls secretly wanted you to find a guy to go home with, since the last year and a half you had been constantly overworking yourself to get into your dream university, (“you got the school in the bag, now get some lad to relieve the pressure”).

oscar had been racing in formula renault at the time, but ever since you left the netherlands, racing hadn’t been on your mind for a long time — it probably should, considering your big brother was two points behind kimi räikkönen last season, however you had a feeling as if racing was the reason you were so disconnected from your family. your dad was racing in formula one, your mom was karting, your brother has been racing in formula one as well, and your sister shared the interest, while the love for partaking in the sport never appeared in your heart.

your chest was slightly pressed against the countertop, smiling at the bartender with a drunken look in your eyes, while he was preparing your umpteenth jägerbomb. jesus christ, you really needed that break. the alcohol running through your veins was really hitting you already as your body couldn’t stay still even for a second — your hips swaying to the beat. that was until you looked around the place and your eyes landed on a boy your age. he was wearing a white, printless t-shirt that clung to his body, turning your quick look-around into a staring situation.

if sober, your thoughts would stay where they should — in your mind, however… you were far from being sober. the proper social etiquette you were taught over the years at your boarding school were long forgotten as you shamelessly ogled the boy. he was simply gorgeous, breathtaking some would say.

“gals, i think i just saw an angel sent from heaven just for me.” you announced, your tone causing your friends to chuckle in amusement. you sound like a person who thought they just invented a cure for cancer. “i need to throw myself at him.”

“oh my god.” aliyah, your roommate from school, laughed, throwing her head back. it was hilariously unexpected to hear you say a thing like that — the girls have heard you talk about the boys you had hooked up with before, even intoxicated, but never this. you had never been so… so not-you. “this-this is the funniest thing, like, ever.”

“which one?” inaya scrunched her brows as she looked around, searching for a guy who could fit her imagination of a guy you would call an angel. she groaned in disappointment, once you discreetly pointed in oscar’s direction. “a white guy? seriously, yn?”

“i can’t help it.” you muttered, your shoulders slumping as the alcohol intensified every single emotion you have felt during the night. “i wish he would have my baby. or like a thousand of them.” your sighed, dropping your hand to your stomach, while one of the girls bursted out laughing at the absurdity of your words.

inaya could easily recall the day before your acceptance letter came in and your speech to the group chat about romantic attraction, relationships, kids, and commitment, concluded with confidence (“i’m gonna be that one, successful aunt that hates kids, but not that one niece.”).

“they would look cute together, though.” priya giggled, stealing glances at your boy, as if she wanted to hit on him, too. then, the thought of priya with your boy disappeared from your mind at the image of your best friend and her long-time boyfriend. right, she and james had been together for the longest time. “you should shoot your–” the universe was not having the girl speak, because a guy, seemingly confident, approached your table.

“hey, i hope you’re having a good evening.” he started in a nice tone, the girl beside you — the last of the four, ciara, seemed to melt against your shoulder, looking at the boy with heart eyes. “sorry to bother you, girls. my friend, that one over there, thinks you’re really gorgeous and would love to get your number, but he’s a bit shy.” he joked, having pointed to oscar, turning the second part of his monologue to you.

before any of you could’ve responded to him, a guy — the same one you called an angel — walked up to the six of you, groaning when he realised that his friend already had done what he threatened to do. “jesus, arthur.” the blonde ran a hand over his face, groaning in exasperation.

“i’m so sorry for him.” he let out a small sigh. “i told him not to bother you, but he’s like a toddler.” he tried to explain, earning a few quiet chuckles from all of you.

“ah, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” priya grinned. “you two look like you haven’t had a drop of alcohol yet, maybe wanna join us?”

oscar wanted to refuse, out of courtesy — he didn’t really care about the embarrassment brought upon him by the monegasque, although the look on your face was making his heartbeat quicken. he’d never felt like this before, it was crazy. he just saw you for the first time and his mind was filled to the brim with small ideas to impress you that were supposed to be shoved away as he opened his mouth to politely refuse the invitation. arthur, however, had different plans and sat next to the ginger haired girl, who quickly engulfed him in a conversation.

looking at him so up close was almost a life-altering experience. for the first fifteen minutes you had to remind yourself to breathe, so enamoured with the boy sitting next to you. after that period, you got even more entranced with oscar. once he started his small conversation with you, you couldn’t help but hang onto every single word that left his lips.

you’ve never felt like this before, so interested in what a boy had to say to you. you forgot about the detail that, if it wasn’t a joke, oscar thought you were gorgeous and loved to have your number. the conversation with him was easy, you didn’t have to do anything special to prolong it, neither did he. by the time the watch on your phone was showing three in the morning, james had already picked priya, inaya and aliyah up, leaving you and ciara with the two boys. you went out to a club to have fun, drink, and dance a bit, but it all was thrown into oblivion once piastri started a conversation with you.

YOU COULD EASILY RECALL THE MOMENT YOU realised that life without oscar wasn’t what you’d ever want. it happened after a few weeks of constant texting, late-night calls and a bit less meetings at his/your place. at the tiniest thought of falling in love with him, your stomach started to hurt, because love wasn’t something you believed to have a happy ring to. your parents were divorced and they took it out on you and your siblings, sophie, your mom, wasn’t as bad as your dad, though.

oscar knew about your stance towards love, but took it upon himself to change it — and he suprisingly did. there wasn’t a thing oscar could do wrong to make you disappointed. despite the hectic schedule he had, you always spent at least ten minutes on the phone to just check in, which was the best part of your day most of the time.

medicine at king’s was killing you every day to the point, where once oscar was able to visit you, he had always made you something to eat, drew a bath for the two of you and took a nap with you. he never complained. for as long as he remembered, most of his days were fast paced — there were little to no slower moments in his life, so despite your insecurities that he must’ve hated you for being too exhausted to spend time with him, he liked just feeling your presence next to him.

your friends, despite the constant teasing, couldn’t be happier for you. you often denied yourself stuff that you probably should experience in life, as a result of growing up in a household where love was conditional. they knew that, it wasn’t a rare sight to see you crumble under pressure, before inevitably breaking down in front of them, so seeing you blossoming like that was not only refreshing, but also relieving.

you were starting your fourth year at the university, while oscar was in the middle of his first season of formula one. before the australian, you weren’t a fan, yet you couldn’t help but bawl your eyes out in pride and happiness, when oscar called you to tell you that he had signed with mclaren.

you had already known about the signing, when oscar came to your shared apartment later, so despite an upcoming test, you spent most of your free afternoon baking him a small cake to show him that his dreams are as important to you as they are to him. you definitely weren’t a great baker, but you tried your best and made a small, lemon flavoured cake with a light, orange-ish congratulations, formula one driver on top.

“baby, i’m home.” your boyfriend called out, entering the apartment as he was taking off his shoes, placing them on a shoe stand. you smiled to yourself at the sound of his voice, head turning to look at him. his hair disheveled, a stubble on his chin, and a slight hint of tiredness in his eyes that seemed to disappear once his gaze fell onto you.

“hey.” you replied as oscar approached you, sneaking his arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “i made you something.” you whispered, tilting your chin to have a better view of his face.

“yeah?” he asked, intrigued. “what did you make?”

“i baked a cake.” you nodded, almost as if it was something you did every other day. “because my boyfriend is officially a formula one driver. i’m super proud of you, you know? and it’s mclaren, too!” you added, a beam creeping up on your lips, your hands cupping his cheeks as you pressed lots and lots of light kisses against his entire face.

a chuckle rumbled in his throat at your silly display of affection, pulling you closer with ease. “i still can’t believe it.” he smiled in between the smooches. “i couldn’t have done it without you.” his voice dropped to a whisper laced with sincerity.

“ah, this is simply bullshit.” you responded, scrunching your nose. “you’re a great driver, baby. you would’ve done it anyway.” you matched the quietness of his tone, bringing your hand to run your fingers through his messy blond hair. “everyone knows that, especially zak and andreas.”

“you did help, though.” he muttered, relishing the feeling of your fingers in his hair. “you keep me sane.” his words earned him a quiet giggle from you. you tilted your head to the side, shaking it lightly, pulling him into a kiss.

it started off slowly and gently, now both of oscar’s arms wrapped around your waist, caging you into his loving embrace. before you knew it, his hands were squeezing your sides, sitting you on the kitchen counter, his body pressing against yours as your lips moved in sync. the pent up stress, pressure and exhaustion slowly dissolving, oscar’s stiff shoulders loosening as your fingers tugged on a strand of his hair.

his tongue has moved past your lips, when you heard a sound, making the two of you pull away from each other in reluctance. oscar’s mom often texted him, when you were either making out on the couch or having sex, almost as if she had a hunch about what the two of you were doing. as a result, you came up with a system that whose phone would go off and interrupt you, the person would have to do something in return for the other one. despite the annoyance of being interrupted, you beamed, knowing that it couldn’t be your phone. that was, until you noticed the smirk creeping up on your boyfriend’s face.

“not mine.”

a loud groan rumbled in your throat, unhappy with the result as oscar passed you your phone from the table. you let out a dutch curse word under your breath, noticing the contact’s name on the notification.

max.

you haven’t spoken to your brother since the end of that year’s season, when you called to congratulate him on his second title. making so much distance between you and your family ever since you were fourteen and in a boarding school was hunting you now. no one from your family knew about your relationship with oscar, despite being together since mid-july 2019. you didn’t want to change it, not because you were ashamed of oscar — that, you could never be — but because you were afraid it would ruin everything between the two of you, and deep down inside you, you knew that your heart would shatter into pieces if that ever happened.

oscar understood where you were coming from, he knew how much of an outcast you considered yourself to be as a kid, and how much work you put into getting away from the town you grew up in. he didn’t mind that he didn’t officially met your blood family, he knew that the friends you went to school with were closer to you and at that time of your life mattered more, so he couldn’t complain, knowing that this family accepted and liked him. your mood significantly dropped, oscar’s hand gently squeezing your thigh for some reassurance, nodding silently, a way of saying that you should call your brother back.

some people would say that your boyfriend was the reason behind the poor connection between you and your siblings, but he was actually the one, who often — subconsciously — made you reply to their texts and calls more, or even calling them yourselves to just check in as you often sent gifts to your two nephews and penelope. although you thought that it was too late to repair the relationship with max and victoria, oscar always told you that it’s nonsense (and he was, indeed, right).

“hey, sorry, i was studying. a cardiology exam coming up soon.” you explained as your brother picked up the call, your voice slightly sheepish as you avoided your boyfriend’s look.

“in december?” max asked. “i was calling to ask if you’re coming back for christmas?”

you sighed softly at the question, knowing that your reaction would probably upset your brother, which you didn’t want to happen.

“uh.” you started. “i–i’m not sure, yet.” an incoherent mumble came from the other side of the line, as you started to pick on the skin of your bottom lip. “i think i am, but not for too long. i have an early flight on the twenty seventh.”

you could see the smile rising on oscar’s lips upon your answer, you were conflicted whether or not you should go back. you missed your brother, sister and mom, but coming home always resulted in your sour mood and not-too-great memories from each year as you always ended up fighting with your dad over something insignificant that made you come back to london sooner than planned. this time, you were supposed to lay down the boundaries and try to have a good time, before flying to melbourne to spend some time with the piastris.

“it would mean a lot to all of us to see you.” max replied in a gentle tone, not wanting to accidentally guilt trip you into coming. “we miss spending time with you, yn.”

“i know, i’m sorry.” your voice broke, sadness washing over your body as you ran a hand down your face to stop yourself from getting too upset. it’s your boyfriend’s big day, you shouldn’t be crying over your familial situation, when it was such a happy day for him.

“i miss you all too.” you whispered, piastri’s hand gently moved up and down your thigh in a soothing mood, helping you calm down a bit. despite not understanding a thing you said since the conversation was held in dutch, he could tell that you were getting upset and it worried him. “i’m gonna be there, okay?”

DESPITE YOUR MOM’S QUESTION UPON YOUR relationship status during last year’s christmas, you didn’t drop a clue whether or not you were dating someone. you felt secure in your relationship with oscar, you didn’t want to jinx it. you started therapy just a few months earlier, but the anxiety to get past this awful feeling of revealing your boyfriend to your family was too much to do yet. you definitely wouldn’t do it without him by his side, and not when your father was around.

throughout the months of 2023, your relations with your mom, max, and victoria had improved significantly, which you were grateful for. by may, victoria’s oldest son, luka, considered you to be his favorite auntie and you really, really liked that feeling.

oscar noticed that you started to come out of your protective shell and he couldn’t be prouder of you. it was around summer break, when you decided that this year, you’d break it down to your family, no more avoiding the conversation you dreaded, but before — you would spend the summer break with your boyfriend in melbourne.

oscar, as usually on his days off, was still fast asleep, when you tried to get out of his grip in the morning. his arm had almost caged you to his side, but somehow — after fifteen minutes of trying to come up with an idea to get away without waking him up, you succeeded.

nicole was already seated at the couch with two steaming cups of coffee in front of her, almost as if she was waiting for you, which you knew she was. it was slowly becoming a little tradition you had with your boyfriend’s mom, you two would sit on the couch in their living room, casually chatting about something, while a movie played on the television in the background to your chatter.

“oscar’s still asleep, love?” she asked in a soft, yet chirpy tone as she noticed you walking down the stairs. your hair was still a bit messy, but nevertheless you looked gorgeous.

“yeah.” a chuckle escaped your lips as you took a seat next to her, taking the mug into your hands. “we stayed up watching a movie last night, apparently i had missed out on the magnificence of david fincher’s filmography.” nicole giggled, shaking her head.

“ah, yes. we’ve been through that, too.” she smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. “so, i’ve heard from hattie that you’re planning on going to suzuka with oscar. that’s, hm… how did she call it? a hard launch, right?” you smiled softly, nodding your head at her question.

throughout your entire relationship with the oldest piastri’s kid, you have been to few races, most of them being his formula renault and three ones, when the schedule didn’t overlap with any of your exams. during his first season in formula one, you were only at silverstone, but as a guest of max, making your first appearance in paddock since you were a baby. this time, you’d be there not as max verstappen’s younger sister, dressed in a red-bull jacket with your brother’s number on the back, but as oscar piastri’s girlfriend.

“that’s true, i’m really excited.” nicole’s warm smile upon hearing your response made you feel even more sure that you were making a good decision. “it’s gonna be my last year at king’s, and i really hope i’ll be able to come to more races to support him. i don’t want oscar to feel like i don’t care about his dreams or achievements.”

“i’m sure he doesn’t feel like that, love.” she reassured, reaching out to squeeze your hand with a slight nod. “you still haven’t told your family, have you?” nicole asked, her head tilted to the side in curiosity and empathy.

she was aware of your bumpy relationship with your family, so it wasn’t a surprise she’d asked that. you feared that oscar’s relatives would think you didn’t take him seriously, and even if they did, they never showed it.

“i want to.” you spoke quietly, having taken a sip of the drink in your hands. “it’s been going on for too long and i’m fully aware of that. i can’t see myself without your son, he’s… he’s probably the, uh, the best thing that ever happened to me.” the genuineness of your words was painfully evident. “i just want them to see that, i wouldn’t be the person i am without him. i’m also just… a bit scared of their reaction. i don’t want to hurt them.”

“i’m gonna be frank with you, love. i think they will be slightly hurt that you haven’t told them about oscar earlier.” nicole started, giving you a look full of compassion. “but you did say that they weren’t insisting on staying in touch with you as much as they do now, your relationship hasn’t been as good as it is right now, so after the initial shock, i think they’re gonna understand why you haven’t told them earlier.”

“thank you for saying that, nicole.” you replied softly, smiling at her with gratitude. “it gives me a bit of hope that things won’t go so bad.”

oscar got down an hour or so later, looking like he had just woken up, what was probably the truth. you’ve had a hunch that he would’ve woken soon, so you started preparing something for him to eat before he had to head out for his usual jog (which he skipped yesterday). his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

you giggled at the sensation of his light stubble against your skin, when he pressed a few lazy kisses along your neck. “g’morning, baby.” he muttered, his voice still having that rought, just-woken-up ring to it. his slightly cold hands moved beneath your shirt, gently caressing your stomach, causing you to shiver at the contact. “what d’you gossip about with mom today?” he asked, continuing with his antics.

“ah, just stuff, love.” you replied, nicole’s petnames rubbing off on you. “edie with a friend will stay at ours before the summer break ends.” you mentioned his younger sister’s plan to come see london and all you got in a response was a soft hum.

“cool, cool.” oscar mumbled a few seconds later, teeth grazing the sensitive spot on your neck, making you bit back a moan. the corners of his mouth turned into a smirk at your reaction.

“ah, fuck off, lad.” a giggle escaped your lips as you turned to face him, having finished preparing some scrambled eggs for the two of you. “go eat, i promised max i’d call him.” after oscar stole a sweet and slow kiss from you, he sat down at the table, shamelessly watching you as you called your brother.

he knew that the situation was better, but he wanted to notice the tiny changes in your expression to comfort you within seconds. he probably wouldn’t understand too much of what you’d say, but before the season started, he’s began thinking about putting a ring on your finger one day, and proposing in dutch sounded like a good idea, so… he started learning on his own, just to be able to surprise you, but also show your family that he cared about the possible language barrier.

“hey, penelope.” you smiled as the four years old girl greeted you after picking up max’s phone. “could you please give me max?” from what you’ve known, max and kelly went to see her family in brazil, so hearing that p wasn’t asleep, wasn’t a surprise.

you could’ve heared ruffling on the other side of the call, before your brother’s voice rang in your ears. “sorry, i was outside.” he apologised. “p said you wanted to talk, everything alright?”

“yeah, everything’s alright.” you smiled at the hint of concern in his voice. “just wanted to ask when you’re flying back to monaco.” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“ah, around next week, i think. not sure though, why?”

“just… uh,” you looked over at oscar and smiled to yourself. “i just wanted you to meet someone. think you could make a quick stop in london before monaco?”

you could’ve heard max stiffle a small gasp and it made you want to laugh. they thought you’d never find someone, didn’t they? after looking at your nails, you turned your gaze to oscar, whose eyes were still watching you carefully. it was so endearing to see your boyfriend like that, so protective over you. you knew you made a good choice of not pushing him away, oscar must be your soulmate, there’s no other way. you sent him a small wink as you awaited max’s reply.

“someone?” he repeated the word. “as in friend? a boyfriend? god, i never thought i’d live to that day. he’s not fifty or something, right?” this time, you couldn’t hold back the laugh. piastri smiled at the reaction, actually relieved that you weren’t getting upset. he’s never seen you talk to jos, but he knew if that happened on his watch, the entire evening, day or week would be spend on comforting the shit out of you.

“what? no, jesus, you’re quite ridiculous.” you shook your head, a smile still present on your lips. “he’s my age, you idiot.” you rolled your eyes playfully, despite max couldn’t see you.

“but he’s good for you?” max asked for reassurance that you weren’t getting into a relationship, which would end up hurting you more than anything else. “he doesn’t hurt you, or anything? and you’re sure he’s your age? that doesn’t go well with your daddy issues.”

“i’m gonna pretend like i didn’t hear that last bit.” you joked, sitting down at the table next to oscar, taking his hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. “he’s super good for me. wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

the reasoning behind telling max before the summer break would end was simple, you didn’t want the information to mess with his performance, but also so he wouldn’t try and run your boyfriend off the track, or crash into him in a rush of emotions.

“alright, tell him to better treat my sister right or i’ll run him over with my car.”

OSCAR WAS TRYING TO CALM YOU DOWN AS YOU paced around your shared apartment, a few days after the conversation you had with your brother. your brother, who was on his way from the heathrow airport to your home.

“baby, it’s gon’ be alright.” he whispered, leaning close to your ear as he cupped your face in his hands, having brushing his nose against yours a few times affectionately. “max won’t sacrifice his relationship with you, solely because you haven’t told him about us. he’s gonna have to understand, alright? don’t stress out.” his thumb moved against the skin of your cheeks, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“you think so?” you asked, meeting his gaze as a small pout appeared on your lips.

“i know so, baby.” he soothed, trying to put your mind at ease, remembering how much hassle the situation had put on your shoulders, having heard you empty your stomach in the morning, when your phone went off once max had texted you that they have just arrived in london.

fourty minutes later, oscar was calling the security guard to let max, kelly, and penelope inside the building. the australian went back to the living room as you had planned beforehand, when you agreed on inviting them to your apartment.

“auntie yn!” penelope smiled, throwing herself at you. you swiftly picked her up, masking the shakiness of your hands. “maxie said you have a boyfrieeeend.” she singsonged with a beam on her face. you could swear to god that in that moment you’d heard the faint sound of oscar’s laughter.

“max.” you gave your brother a look, while he just shrugged unbashedly. “what? it’s true isn’t it? where is that brit of yours?”

“he’s not british.” this time, max gave you a look that said he was confused, while you just shrugged, waving your hand at the three of them, before leading them to the living room. penelope noticed oscar first and murmured to you that he looked really pretty, a warm sensation spreading in your stomach, when the pretty boy smiled at you. the oldest verstappen might get angry or feel hurt, but at the end of the day, no one could do anything to break the two of you apart. you’d chain yourself to the aussie if it was necessary.

“wha— oscar?” max’s mouth fell agape as he took in the sight of your boyfriend, who gave him a tiny, sheepish smile. “hold on a second, what?” he repeated, puting a strong emphasis on the last word.

you weren’t sure if it was inappropriate for you to scoot a bit closer to your boyfriend, leaning against his side as your older brother tried to stomach the fact that the reason behind your often trips to australia was his on-track rival.

“but you were with kelly at the silverstone, not leaving her side at all?” his confusion was messing with your anxiety and you had to do your best to stiffle the laugh bubbling up in your throat.

“yeah, um… we didn’t met at silverstone.” it was oscar’s time to speak up as the bits of contact between you made him more relaxed. “we… have been already dating back then.” piastri explained calmly, his arm going around your shoulders to bring you even closer.

“so that’s why you cried!” kelly smiled at you as your cheeks flushed bright red.

silverstone was oscar’s best finish in formula one so far and seeing him end up almost on podium had melted your heart as you broke down in the red-bull garage. when kelly asked you what made you so emotional, you slipped a small lie, saying that it was because max earned another grand slam.

“you cried?” oscar asked quietly, his heart swelled with love.

“she had a full on mental breakdown.” piquet joked, your cheeks had turned its color from bright red to crimson. it was nothing to be embarrassed about, you loved your boyfriend with all your heart, you couldn’t help but be proud of him for almost every day since you got together. although, he wasn’t supposed to know about your little breakdown.

“i didn’t know about that.” oscar teased you a little, gently pinching your side.

“wait, because i still don’t understand. you were already dating at silverstone, when did you-did you start, then?” the red bull, who — rightfully — couldn’t wrap his head around the possibility that what you were doing right now, wasn’t a silly prank or tiktok of some sort, and you and oscar were actually together.

you opened your mouth to tell him the range of your anniversary, when oscar, like he was aked about it every other day, responded with; “eleventh of july, 2019.”

“fucking four years?” max asked, his eyes widening at the revelation. “four years and you didn’t tell?”

“i was scared that telling one of you would lead to telling dad, and i didn’t want him to say something that would ruin what we have.” your voice dropped insignificantly, oscar’s arm around your body tightening in compassion. “he’s been my rock, i didn’t want to risk losing oscar.”

your brother’s face softened upon hearing the explanation and just smiled. “i’m not taking what i said back. you better treat her right, or i’ll run you over with my car — on or off track.”

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ yourname . . . at melbourne! dec 28th, 2026

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, inaya66 and 67 218 others.

yourname met this muppet in a bar after years of not believing in love (definitely not at the first sight), overworking myself and worrying all my friends that if i get into my dream university, i’ll have no energy to push forward. took me one glimpse of him (and a jägerbomb) to realise that i need to walk up and talk to him. big thanks to arthur_leclerc for walking up to us and trying to embarrass him.

no one could ever make me as happy as you. not enough words, papers and ink to describe even the quarter of love i have for you, two times world champion. seven years and more to come. thank you for showing me that love can be unconditional and that with you next to me, everything is possible.

(ps. a small sneak peak of one significant bean with us to come through life together xx)

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oscarpiastri happiest seven years of my life. nothing compares to the feeling when i’m with you xx

yourname stop cutting the onions (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

inaya66 couldn’t be happier for the two of you ☹️

ciarrrra thats a lot coming from u considering u didnt like oscar

aliyahbilal i wanna be you when i grow up

arthur_leclerc safe to say i’m gonna be the best man?? 😝

oscarpiastri don’t push it

arthur_leclerc i made you two possible

ciarrrra baby… she was on her way to him when u walked up to us…

oscarpiastri so WE kind of made u 2 possible :p

maxverstappen1 stop posting sappy stuff, and get here already bean misses her favorite uncle xx

landonorris yeah n you’re not the one

charles_leclerc boys… i have a dog u really think u stand a chance

yourname that’s really sweet that u think u ever stood a chance with alex, jack, and james…

maxverstappen1 over her own blood??

yourname stop shaming my daughter for her choices old guy

sebastianvettel lots of love and happiness to your little family

ciarrrra sign me up for babysitter duty pleaseeee i miss my beanie ☹️

aliyahbilal nooo me me me need to catch up on those nursery gossips with my bestie!!!

victoriaverstappen can’t wait to see you guys 🫶🫶 hailey misses her bestie

mclaren we are always told things last ☹️☹️☹️

yourname you know it’s not true admin why do you lie 🙁🙁

hattiepiastri best soon to be sil 🥳🥳🥳

yourname whats with you piastris and making me cry today!!!

nicolepiastri love you both lots xx

jackdoohan i’m the favorite?? need to come over with gifts asap🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

fin.

author’s notes! super hyped to post this fic 🥹 it’s honestly my baby that i’ve been working on and thinking about it 24/7 (even when i was supposed to be studying LMAO) huge shoutout to my whatsapp girlies esp catalina and sonny!!!! this is kinda not proofread so if u saw any mistakes (which definitely were there) pretend like u didnt 😝😝 part two with domestic dad!oscar and uncle!grid?? lemme know whatchu think <3 requests r open btw!!

[verstappen-cult]

I don’t know why I went full angst on this but maybe one of them totally blanks on your birthday plans so you’re just sitting at a fancy restaurant with the other one wondering where he is

I can see this where Max forgot and you and Charles finally decide to order food and when you get home he was steaming and didn’t realize what was going on

PART TWO.

You look to the front door just to see another random person walking in. Across the table, Charles tries to hold his anger inside, he tries very hard not to show how affected he also is.

“Maybe something came up.” Your boyfriend tries to smile and reassure you that everything is fine, that Max has a good excuse for not showing up.

He better have a god excuse or Charles is gonna make him sleep on the couch for the next month.

“Should we order? I’m pretty sure Max will want for us to celebrate. It’s your birthday, princess.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak.

It’s not the ideal celebration. Not when one of your boyfriends is not there with you and doesn’t pick up the phone. But Charles does a pretty good job of making you forget about it.

At least until dessert cames and they sing happy birthday to you.

*

“We have plenty of leftovers,” You go to the kitchen as Charles closes the front door. “You want a cup of tea, Char?”

“Don’t be a cunt! I was winning!”

You and Charles look at each other.

“Wha–”

But Charles is already sprinting up the stairs.

You follow him, heart rate through the roof, into Max’s streaming room.

And there he is. Max. Wearing sweatpants and streaming. You look at the screen that says how long he’s been there: four hours. Then, you see his phone on the floor, right next to a couple of Red Bulls.

“What the fuck, Max?!” Charles exclaims, making his boyfriend jump scared.

“Jesus Christ,” He touches his chest, just where his heart is. “Everyone’s laughing, by the way.” Max points to his headphones and then the screen where his friends, in fact, are laughing.

But you couldn’t care less about it.

“Max.” You say softly, grabbing Charles’ hand and caressing his wrist to try and calm him.

“What the actual fuck, mate.”

Charles never calls him mate.

“What?” He looks at Charles, then at you. “You look pretty good. Where did you go?” Max asks, already turning around to keep playing.

But Charles is having none of it. He walks to one side of the room, where everything is connected, and shuts everything off.

“Charles!”

Max is off his chair in a matter of seconds, looking absolutely pissed.

“Oh, you don’t get to be angry.” Charles takes two long strides, but you stand between them before he does something he will regret later. “We waited three hours! It was her birthday, you giant, fucking idiot.”

Charles throws his arms in the air before getting out of the room, leaving a speechless Max behind.

“What?”

You breathe deeply, avoiding eye contact. “You don’t even remember my birthday?”

“Of course I remember your birthday, Schatje.” He picks up his phone, seeing all the missed calls and texts. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with tears.

You can’t see properly anymore. “I think is better if you sleep in the guest room tonight, Max.”

You leave before he has time to say anything, running down the hallway and into your room. It’s only then that you let the tears flow freely down your face.

[kumkaniudaku]

Caught

Summary: When their guest is away, Terry and Patrice will play.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,067

Warnings: Smut (18+ content)

Recommended Reading: Spoiled

Author's Note: Spoiled, Back Up, and Caught all happen on the same linear timeline. Consider them present day events. Hopefully that helps pull things together because you'll need the context later. Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

"Mommy, the recipe for the hand pies is so good. Thank you for finding it for me." 

"Oh, of course, baby. One day, I gotta get you to help me put all your Nana's recipes in a book or something. I'm tired of digging through all these scraps of paper." 

"I didn't wanna say anything, but that's insane. I can barely read her handwriting." 

Rosalyn scoffed on the other end of the phone line. "You and me both. I have to call Sybil every time or end up making up what I think goes there. I cook. I don't decipher chicken scratch."

Patrice laughed along with her mother as she passed a piping hot meatball over her shoulder to satisfy her taste tester for the night. He hummed his approval of her gift, providing a thumbs up as his rating before returning his hand to her waist and swaying them in time with the slow rhythm of Christmas music playing in the background. 

Christmas Eve brought preparation for the big day on the other side of a wake-up and a smaller get-together to celebrate Imani's and Jesus's birthdays in one evening. Patrice had offered to continue the tradition at her house to accommodate her cousin's request for loud music, liquor, and good, grown folks' fun. In a few short minutes, she and Terry would have a house full of adults gorging themselves on party food and fighting fits of giggles during a drunk game of Taboo. For now, she'd enjoy the calm before the storm with her shadow attached at the hip.

"The cinnamon smell for the apple version was way too strong, though. I almost skipped those altogether." 

Rosalyn responded with a sound of cautious curiosity. "Really? You usually love the smell of cinnamon." 

"Right," Patrice exclaimed. "Maybe I had a bad batch or something. It doesn't taste bad, but it smelled awful."

"Hm." Rosalyn filed the information in her head for a later moment of privacy, preferring not to stress her daughter with the questions buzzing around in the mind of a mother who knew her child better than anyone in the world. Instead, she continued. "Terry, did you like the hand pies?"

"You don't know if Terry is even in here, mama. He could be anywhere in the house," Patrice answered, her face screwed in confusion.

"Child, don't insult me. If you're in the kitchen, Terry is in the kitchen."

She wasn't wrong. A few too many glasses of Patrice's special holiday cocktail mixed with his ever-present desire to feel his wife at all times had Terry sticking to her like glue. Even after she'd given in to each of his kisses and allowed him to taste her the moment Imani stepped out to run a few errands, she still couldn't shake him. Whiskey was in control. Terry was only along for the ride.

He chuckled into the crook of Patrice's neck before confirming his presence. "Yes, ma'am, I loved the pies. Treece made a few on the side for me so I wouldn't have to share." 

"She still got you spoiled, I see."

"Nah, not too bad. You know she gets sweet once a week. I caught her on a good day." 

"Oh, hush."

Patrice's attempt to get out of Terry's grasp came up empty, prompting him to hold her tighter and press wet kisses onto the back of her neck. She was sadly mistaken if she thought she could get away from him that easy while Uncle Nearest was pumping through his veins. 

"Well, let me let you two go," Rosalyn started with a small laugh. "Tell me how the chicken salad turns out. I might throw some together as a little snack for your daddy tomorrow. You know how he gets when he's ready to eat." 

"Mhmm. Just like somebody else I know."

Terry patiently waited for Patrice to wrap up her conversation and safely end the call before resuming his handsy approach to PDA. His hands slid up and down the fabric of her cotton pajama pants, the pair matching his at her request. Full lips attached to her neck, creating a light suction with every open-mouthed kiss. 

His wife rolled her eyes as she loaded a pita chip with dip for his culinary opinion. "You are insatiable, TJ. Taste this." 

He obliged, opening wide as she slid food into his mouth and waited for a response. Instead of a verbal assessment of her work, he kissed her cheek twice to signal his approval, then returned to his shameless groping.

"How long before Imani gets back?" 

"I don't know. Fifteen minutes or so. She only went to grab some more cups and water." 

Terry's eyes flickered to the digital clock on the stove before sliding his hands up Patrice's torso and leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder. "Think you got a few minutes to get back to what we started?" 

"Haven't you had enough of me yet? We've been going at it every day since New Orleans."

"What you think?"

Having enough of her touch, the feeling of her body against his, or her attention was a foreign concept for Terry. If he could quit his job and be totally devoted to her pleasure, he would do so without a second thought. Fortunately for him, though, extended absences from the slough of office life due to the holidays provided the closest opportunity to spend the whole day in it. 

Patrice smiled to herself as Terry slowly removed the serving spoon from her hand, bringing her delicate palm up to the back of his head. Coarse hair grown into a short tuft of curls and shaped by his barber tickled her fingertips as she closed her eyes, officially caught up in how Terry caressed her with the care afforded to precious works of art. 

A low purr slipped past his lips as his hands slid beneath the hem of her camisole to rub her stomach, filling her ears and mind with filthy sounds and images from earlier in the hour. Had he had enough of her? She wasn't sure she'd had enough of him. 

His fingertips inched higher, further intoxicating Patrice until a full squeeze on both breasts at the same time made her hiss and wince in pain. 

"Easy, baby," she complained as she gently pressed down on his arms to direct him away from the sensitive area. "They're super tender right now. I'm not sure why." 

Lust was quickly replaced by concern as Terry dropped his hands and turned Patrice to face him. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine, Pooh. It's probably the tattoo healing. 

"Yeah, but it shouldn't be making the entire area hurt. Especially not on both sides. Let me look."

"Terry, you never just look."

His attempt to slide the thin straps of her tank top down her arms was quickly cut short as Patrice brushed off his contact to save herself from what she assumed would come next. Her aching was a serious matter. Terry getting a look at her bare tits was not nearly as high on the list. 

Terry softened his eyes in unmistakable sincerity. "I'm serious, Treece. I know what it should look like. Come here."

Patrice didn't protest as Terry led her to the kitchen table. She stood perfectly still until Terry was comfortable in one of the chairs and then placed her between his legs. 

He gingerly pushed her tanktop straps down her arms before bunching the thin fabric at her waist to free her breasts, watching for any sign of discomfort.

"You don't think you're like…sick, do you?" 

"I think it's just tenderness," she quickly retorted, wanting to push the thought of more grave explanations for her discomfort far from her mind.

"Okay, okay. I'm only asking." 

Her brows furrowed as he lifted the right side to get a look at the moment from a charged few days in his family's old stomping grounds. 

A day alone and nothing to do but explore had them wandering into the same shady tattoo parlor where Terry got his first piece for matching ink. Terry opted to tat their wedding date on his ribs after having to be talked down from plastering her name on his neck. Patrice, however, was set on making her first experience one to remember. 

Slanted script crafted from his handwriting spelled Terry's full first name, curving just under the crease of her boob and the spot that he liked to grip in the depths of passion or simply at his leisure. Terry ran his thumb along each letter to check for abrasions or abnormalities. 

He looked up at Patrice to gauge her reaction. "That hurt?" 

"Not really. It's more here," she added, gesturing toward her areola. "Anything rubbing against it is so uncomfortable. I can barely wear a bra." 

"I noticed. They've honestly been looking a little bigger. Do they feel heavy to you?" 

"Not heavy. Mostly…full? They look great, though. I'm not complaining about that part." 

She joked, the attempt sounding silly once it received no reaction past Terry blinking as he used the pad of his thumb to ghost contact over her pebbled nipple to test her pain level. It was challenging to stay present, with a third of her upper half unnecessarily exposed in their kitchen for no real reason. The entire ordeal felt like a farce. Terrence wasn't a doctor, and him holding her titties in his hands like fleshy snowglobes was as much an actual check-up as WWE was real wrestling. 

When she giggled like a teenager learning about sex for the first time, Terry looked up at her with a quizzical expression, and his left eyebrow lifted high. "What's so funny?" 

"You, Doctor Richmond," she laughed. "How can you tell they're bigger? I couldn't even tell until the other day." 

"I spend a lot of time with my girls. I better notice when they change. Been looking at them since I was sixteen." Terry answered, a boyish grin making his cheekbones nearly touch the corner of his eyes. 

"I knew you used to look!" She exclaimed, finally feeling vindicated in her suspicions from childhood. 

"Looking was the least of what I was doing." He shrugged as he gently pushed both breasts together for his own viewing pleasure. He kissed the small crease they made two times over, then looked up at Patrice through long lashes. "Unfortunately, ma'am, I couldn't diagnose you, but I think I have some treatment available if you're interested." 

Patrice bit back a smile to play along. "Oh yeah? How much is this gonna cost? It's the holidays, and I ain't got it." 

"I offer payment plans that we can discuss in that room back there later tonight." 

"I like the sound of that," she answered, previous problems vanishing into thin air as he roped her back into his web of liquor-charged desire. 

"I knew you would," he winked. "Don't move."

Tingles rippled across Patrice's skin while she listened for any indication of Terry's secretive treatment plan. The soft crack and subsequent rush of cool from the freezer created goosebumps on her bare chest, making her nipples jut out proud from the sensation. Next came the cupboard opening and shutting in two seconds time. From the direction, she could tell he was grabbing a glass from over the sink. 

Ice cubes clinked against the cup like little masters of whispers attempting to give Patrice the scoop on what to expect. Terry quietly shut the freezer and took heavy steps back to his seat, smiling at how Patrice truly hadn't moved a muscle in his few minutes away. 

He placed the glass on the table behind him before tugging her hand to guide her closer. "Cold hot therapy. I sprained my knee once, and this got me back up and running in no time. Ice for the cold…" Terry's voice trailed as he plucked a piece of ice from his glass and pressed it to her nipple. He watched her jaw drop with a sharp inhale, intently focused on the way her eyelids fluttered closed at the sudden shock of frozen water. When a single drop began to make a trail down the swell of her breast, he pulled the ice away and brought his mouth closer. "And I'll take care of the hot."

"Oh…my God." 

Whispers of unexpected pleasure sent Terry into a far-off place where he was only concerned with running a flat tongue across supple skin. Patrice rushed to steady herself by bringing her hands to the back of his head, cradling him while he went to work. 

Ice cold. Soothing warmth. Ice cold. Soothing warmth and a light suckle. Again. And again. 

He eyed her like a lion watches prey, taking notes of every little sound and twitch to know that he was fulfilling his job. 

"Good job, baby," Patrice whispered, her head tossed back and praises spoken to the ceiling. "Good fuckin' job."

Terry ran his hands up the back of her thighs to roughly grip her ass. He groaned at the affirmation before pulling away to retrieve more ice. He held a small cube between his teeth to multitask, running it across her left nipple and areola until it had melted enough to fit both in his mouth. 

Was it fixing her tenderness issue? Not really. But Patrice would be damned if his subtle slurping and moaning with her backside firmly in his clutches wasn't sufficiently taking her mind off things. So far off, she'd lost all concept of time and space. 

While Terry pulled Patrice into his lap for a more intensive inspection, Imani entered the house high off the exhilarating freedom that can only come for night drives with a carefully curated playlist blasting from the speakers. Being stateside for the first time in a year was the perfect opportunity to experience one of life's simple pleasures. 

Grocery bags rustled and knocked against the wall as she hummed along to the fragmented lyrics from a song on her Spotify playlist still coursing through her brain. A short pause in her personal concert to lock the door left space to hear a string of curious noises. Muffled half-sentences and a sort of trembling sigh made her quirk an eyebrow. She thought to herself that Terry and Patrice left the television on far too often for a pair of people who claimed to not spend much time in front of the tube, but quickly found that they'd taken to making a scene the old-fashioned way. 

She stood in the open space, a perfectly shaped eyebrow pushed high on her face and an impressed smirk tugging at the right corner of her lip while she watched her baby cousin makeout with Imani's newest family member with a ferocity she didn't know Patrice had in her. 

Patrice held Terry steady by his jaw, slightly hovering over him while she had her way leading a sloppy kiss. When she moved to push his head back toward her chest with a string of words filthy enough to make a pornstar blush, Imani cleared her throat to finally announce her presence.

"Oh shit," Patrice yelped, rushing to tap Terry's back and end his check-up. 

His head popped up to survey the room, then slowly found a home on top of Patrice's once she pressed close enough against his chest to cover her naked breasts. The vibrations from his concealed chortling made Patrice pinch him in frustration. Nothing was funny, at least not to her. 

Imani held her hands up in faux surrender. "No, please. Don't stop on account of me," she laughed. "Y'all were just getting started." 

"We are so sorry, Moanie. This isn't what it looks like. Well, this part is exactly what it looks like, but I promise it didn't start like this. Terry was looking at my boobs to check on my tattoo and -" 

"Girl, you do not have to explain anything to me. This is your house! Honestly, if I had those big ol' mommy titties, I'd want them in somebody's face too. And you got them for free! The girls gotta go under the knife or get pregnant for those. How does it feel to be God's favorite? Terry, can you help me get the water out of the car when you finish?"

Terry looked down at his visibly distressed wife and then back at Imani to save face for the both of them. "Yeah, I got you. Gimme a minute." 

Moanie didn't notice how she'd launched her cousin into an internal spiral as she pranced off to busy herself with getting ready in her room for the week, but Terry did. He carefully sat Patrice up and helped redress her, careful to ease into conversation. 

"You alright?" 

"I had my cycle this month," Patrice rushed out, her gaze far off as Terry lifted her arm to put it back in her camisole strap. "It can't be that. I had my cycle." When her focus returned, her eyes snapped to Terry's for confirmation. "Right? I did, right?"

He nodded, unsure of how to proceed to quell her fear. "You did, baby. But, maybe…"

Sure, it was lighter than usual, but she'd had a cycle. Her body functioned like it did every month, on time and without pomp and circumstance. There was no cause for concern. 

But…maybe. 

Patrice looked down at her belly then back up at Terry, searching for answers in his sympathetic expression. He leaned forward and held her head with both hands to give her a kiss she couldn't return before he spoke. 

"Don't drink tonight. Just in case. We'll figure it out in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay." She whispered back without truly processing the gravity of his instruction. 

Terry slowly lifted Patrice from his lap to fulfill Imani's request for assistance, leaving her to stand perfectly still in the kitchen. She counted backward in her head, retracing her steps and important dates until a headache sent her to take a seat. 

It was just tenderness. It'd go away by morning, and all of this would be a silly story to tell whenever they got together in the spring for their European honeymoon. She'd drink an entire bottle of wine over heaps of pasta, turning the whole situation into a fond memory before raising her hand to call the server for another round. All water under the bridge, right?

But…maybe.

------

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[mermaidgirl30]

✨Birthday Blues✨

Jackson! Joel Miller x bartender fem! reader

A/N: This is a little one-shot I did for @justagalwhowrites Joel Miller’s birthday celebration writing challenge! I had so much fun with this one and love it so much. I hope you enjoy! This one is all in Joel’s POV 🩵

Summary: Joel spends his birthday sulking on the porch, regretting the mistakes of his past. Just when he thinks he’ll spend his birthday alone, you come around and turn his cloudy skies into sunshine.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: Lots of angst, Joel’s POV, Jackson! Joel, losing Ellie, regrets, no use y/n, fluff, yearning, angst/comfort, lots of feelings, Joel’s birthday, age gap (Joel is 54, reader is 30)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The wooden rocking chair creaks like a rundown, abandoned building, making the old floorboards of the porch groan beneath him with every shaky breath he takes. The acoustic guitar feels like a heavy anchor in his arms as he thinks about those long afternoons when he’d teach Ellie how to play songs of his past. Now, it feels like sawdust under his calloused fingertips. Brittle and old. Just like he is.

   September twenty-sixth. The day he can’t fucking stand anymore. The day he was brought into this unapologetic world, not realizing he’d lose himself along the way.

   Birthdays were supposed to be spent with loved ones. A celebration of life. But what does he have to celebrate anymore? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He doesn’t have anyone anymore. He’s just… alone. 

   Sarah is gone, dead. And Ellie… she wasn’t coming back. Not to his house, his doorstep. No. She’d just stay away like the plague. 

   Fifty-four-years-old. Just one step closer to being six feet underground. He wishes he was already dead because that’s how he feels. Hollow, broken, lonely. 

   God, he’s so fucking lonely. Ever since Ellie found out about the fireflies. About what he did…

   She hates his guts, hates the way he lied straight to her face for months, hates the reason he did it. She thinks he’s selfish and feels like she was used. But really, he only looks at it one way. 

   He saved her… And he’d do it a thousand times over if he had the choice. To lose another daughter. Well… he just couldn’t. So, he did the selfish thing and got her out of that hospital. Because if he lost her, he’d surely lose himself.

   But he already lost her. Lost himself, too. So why does any of this even matter? It’s useless. He’s useless. 

   He strums along to the melancholy tune, the frail strings sliding along calloused skin, echoing the quiet melody back into the cool autumn breeze of Jackson. Maybe Ellie would hear it, come running back with tears staining her hazel eyes, apologize for moving out and screaming at him to stay away. But she was the one that stayed away. He never wanted to…

   He just strums along and keeps playing. The song that he had written just for her. A song she probably hears in her nightmares now. Maybe it’d bring her back…

   He gets lost in the music, greying curls tousled by the wind, his green flannel clinging to his flexed biceps, broken military watch glistening in the dying orange sky. Just when he starts to get drowned out by the screaming voices in his head, a soft, lilty voice pulls him from the darkness.

   “Hey.”

   His head snaps up and his calloused fingers still from the sudden intrusion. When he sees who it is, he freezes in place. His jaw locked, eyes wide, teeth clenched together. It’s you. The pretty bartender who caught his eye the moment he stepped into Tipsy Bison that first he arrived in Jackson.

   There you are. Hair blowing gently in the brisk breeze, doe eyes locked on his, a half-smile curled against your glossy red lips. Jesus. You’re even more beautiful with the orange sun shining down on you, casting halos over the crown of your head. 

   You’re absolutely breathtaking.

   “Haven’t seen you around Tipsy Bison lately. Was wondering where you’ve been.” You look at him intently, questions spiraling in those pretty shades of moonlit eyes. 

   “Been a little busy, I guess,” he mumbles, keeping his fingers locked tight around the neck of the guitar. 

   “Got your whiskey waiting for you behind the bar. Been saving it just for you,” you smile sweetly, nearly making him drop to his knees at the sight.

   “Thanks, darlin’. You don’t gotta do that, though. Might as well jus’ give it to someone else,” he sighs, eyes dropping to his denim-clad lap. It’s been a while since he went and drowned his sorrows at the bar. He’d rather just do it in the comfort of his own home. A home that was empty now except for him.

   “You okay?” you ask, voice leery as your eyebrows thread together in worry. 

   “’m fine,” he states lowly, eyes hollow and weathered from the pain he wears like weights under his eyes day after day. He’s not fine. He’s far from fine. 

   When’s the last time someone asked if he was fine? He can’t even remember.

   “You don’t sound fine. You look… sad.” Your voice is quiet, subdued, and your eyes look like clouded skies with hurricanes and thunderstorms brewing ominously. You look just as sad as he feels. 

   You’re so empathetic and tuned into other people’s feelings. He wishes you’d stop that. Stop looking at him like he deserves to not feel like that. But again, It’s hard to look away when a beautiful girl who’s kind, caring, and all around good is standing right in front of him, asking him if he’s alright.

   “Reckon I am sad,” he finally mutters, eyes cast down to the fading paint of the wooden boards on the porch. But then he looks up again, and there you are. Beautiful eyes swallowing him whole.

   “You want to talk about it?” You lean against the stairwell on the porch, eyes boring into his, arms crossed over your soft blue jacket.

   He shakes his head and sighs. “Darlin’, I really don’t think you wanna sit here and listen to an old man talk ‘bout how he’s feelin’.”

   You shift your weight and flex your jaw, like he just punched you right in the gut. Fuck. He’s already ruining everything, but what you say next surprises him. “I’ve got time.”

   He stares at you a moment, feeling like he just got struck by lightning. You want to stay and listen? You’ve got time?

   “Why don’t you take a seat then? I don’t wanna bore you with my problems. And God forbid I waste more of your time,” he murmurs.

   You shuffle your way up the steps and sit slowly into the wooden rocking chair next to him. The one he crafted by hand. “Like I said, I’ve got time. I’m listening.” You smile softly at him, and he can’t help but to memorize the outline of your pretty face. Your deep dimples that appear whenever you’re grinning, your light freckles scattered across your nose. The ones you get from sitting out in the sun for too long. You always did love the sunlight. That’s something he picked up on quickly.

   He’s watched you for so long from a distance. Only really saying hi if he was stopping by the Tipsy Bison for a drink, maybe waving at you when you walked past him on the street, the casual back and forth glances the two of you would exchange every once in a while. 

   He’s shy, reserved, an introverted man that likes his space. But he’d have no problem sharing his space with you. Especially when you wear that flowery lavender scent that magnetizes him to you.

   After a moment of comfortable silence, he huffs out a heavy breath and begins. “Look, I’m not the best at talkin’. Especially ‘bout how I’m feelin’. But let’s make this short ‘n sweet. I know you got better places to be.”

   You lean back into the slant of the chair and rest your arm on the smooth armrest, smiling over at him with your sweet demeanor. “I don’t have anywhere to be, Joel. So take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” 

   He sets his guitar down and leans it against the edge of the porch, carefully scooting back into the worn chair. His thumb taps nervously against the armrest, but you just stay quiet and keep your eyes on him. It helps him breathe a little easier, he thinks. 

   Taking his time chewing over the words, he finally spills them. “I’ve made some stupid mistakes in the past that I can’t fix. No matter what I do, nothin’ is gonna change what happened.”

   You knit your eyebrows together like you’re mulling it over, guessing what he could be talking about. The way you bite your bottom lip and flick your eyes between the open mailbox that says Miller’s and back his way says you do know. “Are you talking about Ellie?” you ask hesitantly.

   “How did you know…”

   You shrug and push a piece of fallen hair behind the slope of your ear. He wishes he could be the one doing that. “This town is small, Joel. I notice things. It’s not a secret Ellie moved in with Dina.”

   He sighs deeply and pushes his fingers back through his slick hair, letting the tousled curls fall back into place. “Guess gossip gets ‘round fast here. Shit.” He lets his head hang low, cursing under his breath when he thinks about the way Ellie stormed off that day. She said she never wanted to speak to him again, and it hurt just as much as Sarah’s death.

   Your voice jolts him out of those dark thoughts. “Have you talked to her lately?”

   He clenches his jaw and shakes his head defeatedly, tears lining the back of his eyes as pain radiates down his spine. “It’s been over two months. She can’t even stand to look me in the eyes. Fuckin’ hates me, and it’s all my fault.”

   And there you go again. Looking at him like a lost puppy with those big doe eyes of yours. You make him so soft. Nobody else can do that. Not since Tess.

 �� “I don’t think she hates you.” 

   You place your dainty hand on the back of his for a few seconds. Warmth shoots through his skin, races down his bloodstream, nearly chokes him up when you retrieve it and place it back in your lap. In just those few seconds, he felt what it would be like if you were his. But that couldn’t happen. You’re far too young for him, a twenty-four year age gap, fresh out of your twenties. Just now thirty. You’re too pretty, too out of his league, too good. 

   You’re just too good for him. He’d never deserve a woman like you. Not after everything he’s done. 

   I don’t think she hates you. The words permeate and sizzle deep in his brain.

   “No? Well, sweetheart, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that jus’ ain’t the case,” he scoffs, kicking the heel of his worn boot into the porch to get his point across. 

   You twist your fingers together nervously and look up at him, sparkling eyes shining like starlight. “You know she asks about you, right?”

   His mouth gawks open, and he stares wonderstruck at you. “What?” He can’t believe his ears. “She… asks ‘bout me?”

   A faint smile lifts over your red lips. “Yeah. She sometimes comes up to me at the bar and asks if you’ve been in recently or if I’ve talked to you lately. She wonders about you, Joel.”

   His mouth feels like sandpaper, throat dry and closed up. Maybe the dry air will suffocate him before he gets his hopes up. “Why would she do that…”

   You shrug and give him a tight-lipped smile. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two. And it’s not my business to ask, but I don’t think she’ll stay away forever, Joel. No matter what you did or how bad you think it is, she’ll come around. I know she will.”

   His grip tightens against the armrest, nails digging like claws into the rustic wood. “I dunno. She really stuck it to me to leave her alone. Don’t think she wants me ‘round anymore. S’why I stayed away. She’ll never forgive me…” His voice is strained, sad, choked up like he forgot how to breathe. He wishes she’d forgive him. Just one word from her. That’s all he wants.

   “Give her time, Joel. I know she will,” you say encouragingly as the wind laces through your silky hair, blowing it just enough for him to see the pretty blush painting your cheeks pink.

   You’re so fucking beautiful.

   His deep bravado voice drops an octave as he looks up through glassy eyes at the sunshine of a woman sitting before him. “How do you know?” he asks quietly.

   You just shrug and smile. “I just know, okay?”

   “Mmm.” Sitting back in his rocking chair, he thinks and thinks over your encouraging words, analyzing them like tiny jigsaw pieces. A puzzle that just can’t be put together. You never were the type to linger on sadness. Never seemed to let a rainy day cloud your joy. You were always so carefree, always bringing rainbows after destructive thunderstorms. Always just there.

   Slowly, steadily, your fingers curl around his dark green flannel, hooking underneath his bicep. And your eyes, like a warm summer’s day, shine brighter than he’s ever seen them shine before. Just like shimmering sparkles under a starlit sky. Embers and all. “Hope is like a migrating butterfly. It spreads its long wings and takes off in the morning sky. The butterfly may not return to the same place for quite some time, but it always seems to come back to the place it came from. Eventually, it returns home. She’ll come back, Joel. Ellie will come home.”

   His eyes cloud over, foggy from the tears building in his dark brown irises. And when one slips free and slides down his cheek, falling like a raindrop and landing on top of your hand, you don’t pull away. You stay. No one else had stayed. But here you are, smiling up at him like he’s the center of your gravity. Like he’s worth something to you. 

   And then something happens. Something he hasn’t done in so long. He smiles. He smiles at the pretty girl that turned his entire birthday upside down. He smiles because you stayed when no one else did.

   You stayed.

   “Think you jus’ might’ve struck some hope inside me after that speech, darlin’,” he drawls, brown eyes sparkling into yours.

   “Glad I could be of service,” you giggle, your hand brushing over the fabric of his soft flannel. And there you go. Giving him that breathtaking smile. He wishes you’d never leave.

   “Look at you. Ruinin’ my plans of sulkin’ for the rest of the evenin’.”

   You tilt your head and give him that look. A look like you want to drown out all his sorrows. “Why are you sulking in the first place?”

   Sighing loudly, he rakes a hand slowly down his patchy beard and stares out into the void of the green and yellow leaves littering the ground. “‘Cause it’s my birthday. And I got nothin’ to celebrate.”

   You sit forward in your seat, drawing your hand back to your lap and staring all wide-eyed at him like you just can’t believe he’d be alone. “It’s your birthday?”

   “Mhm,” he hums, feeling the excruciating pain of losing Ellie all over again. 

   “What are you doing spending it alone, then?” you whisper, heartbreaking eyes tearing his soul in two.

   He pushes a hand painfully slow through his windblown curls and takes a deep breath as he thinks of that stupid fight he and Tommy got in. “Me and Tommy had a fight the other day. Reckon he doesn't wanna see me for a few more days after that. Maria’s on Tommy’s side. And Ellie… well. You know. Needless to say, I got no one to celebrate with.”

   Silence permeates through the cool air, a deafening noise that rings through his ears. He wishes you’d say something, anything. Break the lull that hangs like a thick, impenetrable wall in the sky. Maybe you too are having second thoughts of being here alone with him in his suffering.

   “Can you just… wait here for a few minutes?” you ask, pushing yourself up and hanging over the thresholds of his rickety porch.

   He takes a minute to digest your words, thinking you won’t come back. “I suppose. Not goin’ anywhere. Why?” he asks hesitantly, his voice hoarse from the thought of you disappearing too.

   “Just wait here. There’s something I forgot,” you plea, your pretty smile telling him you’ll be back.

   Before you take a step off the porch, he stops you. “You don’t have to, you know. Come back, I mean.”

   You give him a small smile, your hair blowing softly in the wind, tangling around your beautiful face. An angel cast in shadows from the purple and pink painted sunlit skies. “Nobody deserves to be alone on their birthday, Joel. Not even you,” you say in a soft, lilty voice. 

   You hang there a second, just watching each other. Waiting for something, but he doesn’t know what. And eventually, you take that step off the porch. “Be right back! Just wait here,” you shout, running off into the sunset.

   “Alright,” he whispers, watching you go. And then you disappear down the street, practically sprinting back to your house or back to the bar. He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he hopes you come back. 

   Please, come back. 

   He fidgets in his chair, trying his best not to pull out the greys from his tousled curls. His chest feels tight, like his button-up shirt is stifling the chilly air all around him. He feels choked up, like something is lodged deep in his throat. Feels like he drank too much whiskey, palms sweating against his jeans. 

   Lord knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t act like this means anything. But what if it does? What if this is everything he’s waited for? He shouldn’t yearn for you, shouldn’t pine mindlessly for the pretty bartender that’s way too young for him to be falling for. But he fell head over heels the first moment you said hi to him in the bar. Your smooth fingertips brushing against his when you passed him a glass of whiskey. It felt like fire smothering his insides, igniting dangerous feelings that he should’ve never developed in the first place. 

   He shouldn’t have fallen for you, but he did. And now, he was wrecked. 

   You come walking back just minutes later, your hands behind your back, something hidden behind your jacket. And when you make your way back up to the porch, you hold out a single muffin with a blue birthday candle placed right in the center.

   “What’s this?” he asks, eyes wide as you place it in the palm of his hand.

   “A blueberry muffin. I just made them this morning. I hope you like blueberries. It’s not much, but it was made with love and care. So here, something sweet that I hope will brighten up your day.” 

   He stares in awe at the fluffy muffin, blueberries scattered around the pastry. His eyes mist over, tears licking at the edges, threatening to spill at any moment. He’s not used to this kind of treatment. Someone being nice, thoughtful, acting like he’s special. 

   He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you.

   “Th—thank you…” he chokes out, holding back tears.

   “Happy birthday, Joel,” you smile, lighting the candle and making shadows cast over his palm from the flame. “Make a wish.”

   “Think it already came true…” he whispers. 

   Your eyes meet, tension thick in the air, smiles bouncing off each other's mouths. And when he blows out the flame, you give him a quick, fleeting kiss to the cheek. A kiss that’ll surely never wash off his skin. It’ll stick like permanent ink until his mouth hangs over yours.

   “You’re a sweet little thing, ain’t ya?” he asks, his skin tinged red from the blush you’ve painted over his tanned skin. 

   “Sweeter than a shaker of sugar?” you giggle out. A laugh that sounds like music to his ears.

   “Sweeter than sugar, darlin’,” he confirms with a wide grin.

   His hand finds yours, lacing his fingers through until your warmth is mixing with his. And as the sun goes down, stars igniting the sky in glitter, you lean your head on his shoulder while you tell him stories of your past. He could listen to you all night. He thinks he could listen to you forever. 

   You stay there until midnight, fingers entwined together, his hand pushing a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, memorizing your perfect smile and dazzling eyes. And just before you go, he pulls you in for a kiss. A kiss that could make the entire world stop. Because in that moment, on your soft lips, he thinks he found heaven. 

   Just as you turn to go, a figure emerges from the dark shadows, leaving him breathless and dumbstruck from the sight. He rubs his eyes, figuring he’s seeing things. Maybe the sleepless nights have finally got to him. But your encouraging smile says it’s real.

   “Joel, look. She came back,” you smile, eyes glossy just like his are now. 

   She hesitates out in the road, jaw locked and eyes watery. Those big hazel eyes haven’t changed a bit. 

   Ellie. She came back. She’s here…

   And just like a butterfly, she spreads her wings and waves, mouthing happy birthday as she lingers by the open mailbox. But that’s enough. That’s one step to fixing a promise he broke. 

   “Ellie,” he calls, voice cracking as tears drop down his face. 

   “Joel,” she nods, giving him a half-smile. “Can I… can I come in?” she asks hesitantly.

   “‘Course you can, kiddo.”

   And it’s then, right at that moment, where everything fell back into place. Right when she stepped back into his life. He has a feeling you had something to do with it, but he’ll thank you for that later. Maybe tomorrow when he stops by your house and asks for some more blueberry muffins. 

   Today will go down in history as one of his favorites because he got the girl, and Ellie came back home. He got his birthday wish after all. 

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[kurooandkenmasslut]

ANYTHING FOR YOU.

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭!!

Based on this link

unprotected sex, neighbours listening... nipple play & sucking, cowgirl (riding) pregnancy (baby fever guys mb 😓), slight hair tugging, heavy makeout, sloppy sex, aftercare king & drabbbbbleeeee

reblogs are appreciated, don't be shy & minors pls don't interact, ageless blogs will be blocked <3

You weren't really sure on how of this happened.

All you remember is being at your boyfriends birthday celebration at the bar, his followers, drink, sweat, and chatter surrounded you. A certain pair of cat eyed eyes stared at your figure all night, already knowing who it was.

Back to the present, your now situated on sugurus lap, his big hands exploring your lower half, peaking his hands under your dress.

Tounges tied to each other while your hips grinded, you let out a moan, feeling his big bulge hitting your clit under your thin laced panties.

He smirked through the makeout, pulling the straps of your skimpy dress down, aswell as your bra, letting your breasts be free.

"suguu.. mmhf.."

"hush angel, I needa see to them first, ya know?' He panted through breaths, continuing sucking on your nipple like a newborn baby.

You grinded harder, as if your pussy wasn't already dripping with slick. Suguru groaned, earning yourself a loud slap on the ass.

Your hands focused on his buttons on his trousers, with shaky hands, you pulled down his briefs, (with his help of lifting his hips up), his big cock sprung out at you.

"sugu, i dont think it'll fi- mhhff!" Interrupted by the sudden push sliding down his cock.

"yeah angel? take me so nicely, i think it fits perfect- fuck.. your so tight baby, ease a lil' bit yeah?"

You groaned as he stretched you out. No matter how many times or how long, the feeling of being streched will never become old. After the pain subsided, you slowly bounced on his dick, while he sat back, a big cheeky grin plastered on his face, watching the gorgeous view.

You, panting and tits bouncing as you struggle to take him, trying to be wary of the complaints of the neighbours.

But in this moment of time, you seriously couldn't give a fuck. Riding your boyfriend raw and loud sounds better than being self conscious that someone is listening. not that you could properly form a thought if you tried anyway.

Every vein, every twitch of his cock, you could feel it, making you reel your head back in pleasure. jesus, this cock will be the death of you.

A tight knot formed in your stomach and your legs were twitching. you were close, both you and him knew it. suguru smirked, rubbing his hands on your ass, messaging it almost.

"sugu.. i-i can't, help- nghh.. sugu!"

"what's the magic word, sweetie,"

"Please sugu! please please! I'm so close!"

the cheeky grin never left his face, only widening. He then took your place, grabbed your ass, rutting his hips into yours at inhuman speed.

"shit.. im starting to get- cl-close.. where do I-" he panted, his eyebrows knitted together as he was coming close.

"inside!! sug-uuhh.. p-pluhhhease!" You squealed, desperate to feel the familiar warmth in your womb.

he raised a brow, of course, you two have talked about having kids, he had the money, you had the time, the house, the two loving parents, everything was perfect.

For some reason that thought of your stomach round with his baby, your tits blown and filled with milk, whining for his help and how sore it was. that egged him on, because he imagined your beautiful face, a grin plastered on your face as he served you the weird craving you were crying for.

As if he could go harder and faster, he did. He then put you on your back, you were startled by the sudden force and speed, you cried out, no, screamed, out. Words couldn't even form in your heads you couldn't warn him that you were cumming.

Cum dripped down your pussy, squelching loud and ringing out in the bedroom.

You gripped onto his back, leaving red marks on his back, your legs around his waist. Suguru held your hips, his eyes stared into you, watching every reaction. He had a habit of being observant.

Soon enough he emptied his seed into your womb, slowing down, riding out his high. You two heavily panted, exhausted from the hard intercourse.

Suguru let go of your waist, holding your hands as he slipped out, making you shiver.

He kissed your forehead and then your lips.

"You alright? want me to get something?" He asked while he rubbed your knuckles.

"Um.. a-a hot bath, please!" he smiled, muttering an "of course,"he slipped on his silk robe you gifted him, before heading out into your shared bathroom.

two minutes later he came back, carrying you bridal style to the bath, carefully setting you down into the bath. It had your favourite scent and favourite flower petals, bubbles reaching to your neck.

"Sugu? can you join me and help me wash my hair? I'm exhausted."

"Of course darling, anything for you." He chuckled.

[seeingivy]

sweet irony

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

--

you stare down at your phone – the picture of you and sukuna cheesing into the camera staring back at you – as the quiet pulsating starts teeming in your head. 

he’s dead. you’ve wished him dead for years, hundreds of times in passing, and now he’s actually dead. 

and now you’ll have to tell yuuji. 

you take a beat before walking back into the sweltering hot air of the bar, the blaring music making your heart race as you push through the crowd. and it takes you twenty minutes before you reach the table where yuuji is again, standing still to watch as he leans his head against megumi on the stool, while nobara finishes off the last of his drink.  

you can’t help but pause, your heart sinking into the deepest pits of dread, as he digs the cherry in the drink out of the ice, as you walk up to his side, shaking at his shoulder. 

your dad is dead. 

“hey, you’re back! do you want the another?” yuuji asks, the stem of the cherry sticking out of the side of his mouth as he holds a shot glass in front of your face, almost tauntingly, 

“no, no. um –” 

your dad is dead. your piece of shit dad is dead and you have to leave. 

you take the glass from him, accidentally slamming it down too hard on the table to the point where it shatters, as yuuji looks over at you, eyes wide. there’s a quiet gasp as almost everyone around you gives you a weary look, before turning back to their own conversations. 

you look down at your hand, the smallest amount of crimson red staring back at you, as you ball your hand into a fist and ignore it. 

“jesus. you okay, she-hulk?” he asks. 

you look back up at him. 

“yeah, it’s fine. we have to go home.” you respond. 

“what? don’t tell me you’re going to start being a bore now that you’re old. we just got here and we’re not leaving until sukuna is dragging all four of us out on our asses.” yuuji responds, earning him a laugh and a smile from nobara and megumi. 

“just come with me. we can talk on the way.” you respond, reaching for his wrist as you start pulling.

“we’re celebrating your birthday! after someone ruined it, mind you…” yuuji jokes, pulling you back towards the table. 

“shut up! how was i supposed to know that maki and mai were going to make a scene?” nobara mutters. 

“you literally started the fight, nobara.” megumi mutters. 

“and i apologized for that!” nobara responds, reaching over to flick megumi in the side of the forehead. 

you place your hand on yuuji’s bicep, squeezing hard, as you feel hot tears in your eyes and an almost soreness in your throat – knowing that whatever you say next is irrevocably about to change something for him as you lean forward. 

“yuuji. your dad passed away, we…we have to go.” 

megumi and nobara turn their heads, the former spilling the drink in his glass all over the table. 

“what?” yuuji asks. 

yuuji subconsciously pulls his arm back, eyes incredulous as he looks down at you. 

“yuuji. really, i…” 

“what did you just say?” megumi asks. 

“i…i don’t know how it happened, sukuna was so brief on the phone when he asked us to come that..” 

“wait, what?” nobara says. 

“sukuna. he called me and asked me to bring yuuji back. or both of us, i don’t..” 

you watch as yuuji digs his phone out of his pocket – a plethora of calls from both sukuna and his mom shining on his screen – as he scrolls through the texts, before he looks back up at you and swallows hard. 

“i had more to drink than you did.” he responds, his voice stiff as gravel. 

the look in his eyes is haunting. his dad is dead. 

“i’ll bring the car around.” you respond. 

“megumi. go with her. sukuna would kill me if he found out i let her walk out there alone.” yuuji responds, his focus halfhearted as he looks down at his phone, dialing his mom’s number as he presses the phone against his ear. 

his dad is dead. he needs a second. 

megumi gives you a curt nod before linking in his arm with yours and pushing his way through the crowd, uncharacteristically rough as the two of you run out the doors. and you’re both speed walking down the block, hands shaking as you pull open the doors of the car, and shove the key into the engine. 

“oh god, his mom is probably losing her shit. she’s going to be a mess when we get there, megumi.” you mutter. 

you pull out of the spot, fighting the urge to honk at the hounds of pedestrians that cross, as you nervously twiddle your fingers on the wheel. 

“sukuna’s probably there, alone, right now.” you mumble. 

you feel your throat dry. 

“i hope that…that his dad’s not still there when we get there. i don’t even..” 

“i’m not coming.” he whispers.. 

you accidentally push the break too hard and the car jolts, shooting megumi an apologetic smile as one of the groups of pedestrians flip you off. 

megumi notes that what he said came out a little more harshly than he intended it to, but it’s only because of his frustration, and what the questions he knows are going to follow after. 

“what? of course you are, he’s…” 

“i mean, i can’t.”

you frown. 

“of course, you can. in fact, you should. he’s your boyfriend.” 

it takes a split second for you to realize why yuuji’s always so defensive when it comes to you and sukuna. surely megumi can’t be serious. 

“y/n.” 

“megumi. you spend like every waking second with the guy. what’s your issue now?” you seethe. 

“i’m not going to make things more complicated by meeting his mom for the first time on the night she became a widow, y/n.” megumi responds. 

you swallow hard, the soreness in your throat making your eyes water, as you give him a nod and clench the steering wheel so hard that it makes your skin nearly break. 

of course that’s why he couldn’t go. you’re an idiot. 

the stinging on your palm from the glass only gets worse as you pull up outside the bar, and honk twice for good measure. 

“one thing, y/n.” megumi states. 

“what?” 

“i know that sukuna is your person. but yuuji’s mine. please don’t forget to be there for him too.”  he begs. 

you reach forward, squeezing megumi’s hand in yours. 

“of course i won’t forget about him. i’ll send you updates, okay?” you whisper. 

he gives you a nod as yuuji and nobara come tumbling out of the front door a few minutes later, nobara pressing him into a hard hug before letting ago, and rubbing at her biceps in the cold. and it gets even worse as you watch megumi and yuuji – being so openly affectionate while not being black out drunk for the first time – as they lean their foreheads against each others, before kissing goodbye. 

the entire car shifts as yuuji sits in the car, eyes teary and sniffling as he looks over at you, and nods. 

“let’s go.” 

it feels wrong to leave megumi behind, but you do it anyway. 

--

it takes an hour and a half to get there. yuuji’s uncharacteristically quiet, leaning his head against the glass of the window, as you try to drive as fast as you can on the highway. your headache, the dread, the stinging in your hand – it all seemed to get worse as time goes on, as you get closer to your house, and to whatever’s waiting for you. 

halfway through you offer yuuji your uninjured hand, which he takes, and doesn’t let go of as the two of you walk to the porch. 

“wait.” yuuji whispers. 

“what? what is it?” 

yuuji pauses, heaving a sigh before he looks at you, eyes watery. 

“i want one more second of normal before…before i…” 

“of course, yuuji.” you mumble back, leaning forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, his arms shaking as he wraps them around you. 

and you get what he means – you can feel your heart sink as you hear the raised voices, and what you’re sure is mrs. itadori’s wailing, as you squeeze yuuji harder. 

“you’re always so warm, y/n.” yuuji mumbles. 

you give him a smile as you pull back and ring on the doorbell. and it’s a split second before 

sammy swings the door open, eyes wide as she wraps her arms around yuuji first. 

“hey kid. you okay?” she murmurs. 

“yeah, sam..” 

“the moms and sukuna are in the dining room. go, go.” she whispers, rubbing his back once more for good measure before pushing him in the right direction. 

and then sammy looks back at you, giving you a smile, before she immediately crumbles into a mess of tears. 

“holy shit, y/n. i’m so fucking glad you’re here.”

you open up your arms, taken aback by the mess of her braid and the state she’s in, as she tucks herself into your neck, her tears spilling onto your skin. and you rub circles into her back in unison with her panting breaths, before gesturing for her to explain. 

“he just collapsed out of nowhere. i was in the fucking bathroom for gods sake and i just heard them shouting before…before mrs. itadori literally screamed bloody murder…i just came out and..” she whispers. 

you squeeze her a little bit harder, her cries getting stifled into your shoulder as you whisper into her ear, trying to calm her down. 

“sammy.” you whisper. 

“his pulse was gone. i did cpr for twenty minutes before they got here and they said there was nothing i could have done. i’m a fucking nurse, for fucks sake, and i just…i don’t even…” 

“you did what you could have.” you murmur. 

you can tell that she doesn’t believe you. and that she’s in some kind of shock from the way her eyes are so lifeless – the only thing convincing you that she's still really there with you being the quiet breaths that leave her mouth. 

after ten minutes of holding her, she pulls back, wiping at her nose. 

“i can’t believe he’s dead.” she mutters miserably. 

“me too.” 

“is…am i shitty for being upset? he’s an asshole but…but he was around for so long and well –” 

“no, sammy. we’ve known him forever.” you affirm. . 

“you should check on sukuna, by the way. they asked him questions for a while when he got here, because…because mrs. itadori and i were too hysterical. mom helped but she didn’t know most of the stuff and..” 

you wonder if he had been afforded time to cry yet. though you knew how these things go and that somehow, he’d be the last one to get the privilege to process it all. 

“okay, come on.” you respond, the two of you linking your arms together as you walk into the dining room. 

you feel your heart pinch as you walk into the dining room – at the sight of both mrs. itadori and yuuji crying – with sukuna’s hand slung across yuuji’s chair. there’s an almost…gaunt look on sukuna’s face, devoid of any emotion, as he only locks his eyes with yours in recognition, before turning his attention back to yuuji.

you give a small wave to your own mother, who gives you a halfhearted smile, before placing a she places a glass of water in front of yuuji and mrs. itadori, and taking the seats next to them. 

sammy’s crying at your side again, quietly muffling her own tears into your shoulder, as you squeeze at her side, before setting her down in the chair before leaving to get her water. and  it’s only in the kitchen that you realize that the inner part of your hand is a bloody mess, with the stained red going all the way down to your wrist, as you walk over to the sink. 

“what happened?” 

you nearly jump to find sukuna at your side, leaning over your shoulder as he eyes the red in the sink, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, the wetness dripping onto his shirt. 

he doesn’t hug back. he’s softens underneath you, his shoulders less stiff, but he doesn’t hug back. 

“nothing. it was just a glass back at the bar. you…what happened to you? are you okay? what can i do to help because i know that…” 

sukuna leans back, offering you a halfhearted smile, before reaching for the closest drawer and pulling a glass box of bandages and alcohol wipes out. 

“let me clean it.” 

you frown before holding your hand out for him, watching as he quietly opens the packet, and gently cleans the area, before wrapping it in a white bandage. and when he touches the inner portion of your wrist, he looks up at you before placing the back of his hand against your forehead. 

“you’re running hot.” he states. 

“it’s warm in here.” you respond. 

“it’s not. you’re getting a cold.” 

yuuji’s comment from earlier makes sense now. you sigh, noting the soreness in your throat feeling almost swollen now, as you shake your head at him. 

“really. what can i do to help? i know this is a lot and…” you mumble. 

you’re unable to place the expression on sukuna’s face. it’s almost like he cringes. 

“i’m right here.” 

“can you stay with yuuji?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“what?” 

that’s not what you had in mind. 

“we have to do the funeral sooner than later. saturday is our best bet with everyone having work off so i have to pull shit together, really fast. and i can do it, but…but not while dealing with both of them. can you stay with him? please?” 

the question dies on your tounge. what about you? 

“yeah, of course i can, but –” 

sukuna nods, before placing a bottle of nyquil in your uninjured hand. 

“take this twice a day.” he responds, squeezing your shoulder once as he retreats back out to the main room. 

--

you don’t see sukuna for two days. or well, you do, but he’s always preoccupied. not really there. on the phone with the funeral planner, comforting his mom, or dealing with the hospital bills and belongings that were left behind. 

he declines your offer to sleep with him, because he sleeps on the floor in his moms room. he doesn’t eat the breakfast you because he has to go pick out the flowers – and doesn’t make any jokes about how he’d save himself from the food poisoning before eating your food. 

it’s just as well you suppose, because you really do get a fever, and staying with yuuji takes up enough of your time. 

unlike the former – a solid fortress of almost nothing – yuuji swings between two moods, either being awfully quiet and insatiably angry. 

you’re not sure which one is better. the lack of babbling from yuuji is haunting in every situation – but it’s so hard to discern what it is that he’s feeling that sometimes all you can do is crawl into his bed with him and stare at the ceiling together. 

you were half convinced that it did nothing until the second day, when yuuji offered you a thank you for the silence before trotting off to shower. 

the anger is a little bit easier to handle. only because whatever it is that he is feeling comes pouring out of his mouth so freely that you’re at least able to pinpoint what it is that makes him mad. 

that he’s dead. that he died without changing. that he won’t ever change and that in the grand scheme of things, yuuji’s history will always be murked by a shitty, homophobic asshole. 

“he’s such a fucking prick.” yuuji mutters, angrily slamming the door of his closet, as you readjust on his bed. 

was. he was such a prick. 

“and why the fuck is my mom crying so much? god knows how many bottles of wine she’s fucking drank trying to temper the fucking rage he filled her with. she should be happy that she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore.” 

yuuji looks over at you, quickly handing you the tissue that you were reaching for, before returning to his rant. 

“like grow a fucking spine. she’s making sukuna do everything. he’s only fucking twenty-five, for fucks sake. all i’ve watched her do is fucking ball her eyes out and lie down on that god damn couch while he plans the entire funeral and spends lal day calling god knows who.” 

yuuji’s nervous pacing makes the jacket of his suit fall off of the hanger, his irritation clearly getting worse, as you lift your hands, gesturing for him to take a seat as you reach for it. you lift it off the floor, sling it back onto the hanger and make a mental note to steam the crease before the funeral tomorrow, before turning back to him and taking a seat at his side. 

you lean your head on his shoulder, as he brings his hand up to your hair, tangling through the knots. 

“i wish megumi could be here.” he mumbles, voice quiet. 

“me too. i…sammy and i actually talked to your mom about it and..” you start. 

“i know. sukuna told me.” 

yuujji pauses, running his fingers over the pink skin on your palm, before sighing.

“it’s nice but, he’d probably roll over in his grave if megumi came.” yuuji states. 

“he’d probably get out of his casket just to yell at you one more time.” you mutter. 

yuuji laughs, the sound making you smile. 

“and then he’d see you sitting in between me and sukuna and slut shame you one last time for good measure.” he adds. 

“and then probably have a second heart attack when he sees sammy sitting there with mai.” 

the two of you stare at each other blankly before bursting out into laughter, albeit a little bit too uncontrollably, as you reach to shut the door to stop everyone else from hearing. 

“oh my god. i fucking forgot about that. he’d probably have an aneurysm if he found out sammy was bi.” 

“he would fully go into septic shock. he’d probably something strangely homoerotic and spend twenty minutes trying to convince her that everyone was a little gay.” 

“holy shit! i totally forgot he said that. and then he’d somehow blame me for it. like i made her gay somehow by rubbing it off on her.” 

you snort. 

“and naturally, he’d start yelling at our moms too. saying that they let us all be a little too wild when we were kids and that’s why we’re all ungrateful..” you add. 

“i believe his preferred term of endearment was ungrateful little assholes. and don’t kid yourself, according to him, the root of all evil can –  and always will be – traced back to me. ” 

the two of you turn your heads to the doorway, to where sukuna’s standing. you jolt up at the sight of him, his eyes red and tired, as you look up at him, giving him a smile. 

“hi sukuna. how are –” 

sukuna sticks the back of his hand against your forehead, clearly bothered by how warm you’re still running, before dropping his hand. his fingertips trail down your skin, the length of your elbow to your fingers, before he presses the bottle into your hand. 

“antibiotic for five days. if you still feel bad, then an extra two days.” he states, holding the water out in front of you. 

it’s the same as the time yuuji punched you. he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive, but still attentive. 

“when did you have time to go?” 

“i had to get his clothes from the hospital. and his phone and the car keys, they were all in his pocket.” 

“thank you. do need anything from me?” 

“still have nyquill?” 

he avoids the conversation, like he always does, in the rare seconds you’re allowed to speak to him.. you pretend it doesn’t sting. 

“yes.” 

sukuna leans forward, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear, before turning to yuuji. 

“day after tomorrow, up at six both of you. the funeral starts at seven and we’ll be back here after for the condolences.” 

“got it.” yuuji responds and you nod. 

sukuna disappears as fast as he showed up. 

and while you felt like you were isolated in the feeling – that he was slipping away, on another planet from you when he was only two doors down – you and yuuji talk about it the night before the funeral. 

“does it bother you?” yuuji asks. 

you can’t sleep the night before and neither can he – the two of you cramped up in his tiny bed and staring at the tiny glow in the dark stars you pressed to the ceiling years prior. they’re peeling off, half of them already having fell into the crevices between the bed in the wall years ago. 

“your dad?” you murmur. 

“no. sukuna.” 

“what do you mean?” 

“does it bother you that he won’t let you help him?” yuuji asks. 

you sigh, mulling over the thought in your head. of course it bothers you. you felt like you were failing the most important test. 

“i’m not saying that in a shit talking type of way. i just meant…as an observation. as a friend.” yuuji adds. 

you smile. 

“i know. i guess it does. i just feel like we made really good progress and that…that i’d at least tumbled down most of his walls. but every time i see him, it kind of feels like they’re back up. maybe even worse than before.” 

“what do you mean?” 

“he was always a little reserved but it didn’t take much to get him to open up. he’d always give in when i asked. but he just kind of brushes me off now. i’m not mad about it, because i understand, but i wish i could just do more.” you respond. 

yuuji readjusts, leaning over on his side, to look at you. and you mimic his actions till the two of you are facing each other, cheeks pressed into the pillows as you try to make out the features of his face. 

“don’t take it personally.” yuuji responds. 

you sigh. 

“really. in my experience, he…he’s never been able to let go until things are fully settled.” 

“that’s what scares me. your dad isn’t going to stop being dead.” you whisper. 

yuuji nods. 

“he won’t leave you.” 

“i know that. i just need him to come back to me.” you respond. 

yuuji readjusts under the sheets. there’s a quiet beat before he talks again. 

“will you stand with us at the condolences tomorrow? i think he’d like it if you were nearby. and god knows i need someone to stand there with me.” 

“of course, i will.” 

--

almost every person you’ve ever known seems to cycle through their house the next day. the funeral was crowded and you luckily for you, you were stuck for the most part, with sammy on one side and yuuji on the other, so you were able to avoid it. 

but the house was different. in a swimming sea of black, you and yuuji have awkward sets of interactions every few minutes. your third grade teacher, the hostess who kicked the two of you out of the sushi restaurant once, and the weird guy who gets drunk every thursday at the district. 

this town was way too small.  

yuuji sees nobara at the door, giving you a go ahead to go find where sukuna was lingering, as you start making your way through the halls. and it takes a few minutes, but you find him in the kitchen, tucking the envelopes and letters into the drawer as he reaches for his tie and loosens the knot. 

“hi.” 

you watch as he immediately stiffens, sharply turning his head to the left, before releasing. 

“oh. hey. i thought you were someone else.” 

“nope! just little old me.” you respond. 

sukuna pauses, slowly closing the drawer, before turning to you and cupping the side of your face. you welcome the touch – your chest panging at how long it’s been since you’ve even seen him, let alone touched him – before pressing a kiss to his palm. 

“do you feel better?” he asks 

“yeah. thank you.” 

he gives you a halfhearted smile, before dropping his hands down your back and securing his hand around your waist. you lean into his touch, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, and taking in the scent of his cologne. 

“i have to go back out.” he mumbles. 

“i know.” you respond. 

he looks down at you, giving you a smile, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. you give him a smile, before he leans down and squints his eyes at you. 

“been far too long since i’ve kissed you, hasn’t it?” 

“what?” 

“you’re blushing. and i just kissed your forehead.” 

you laugh, lightly trying to shove him away. but he’s too fast, hands on your waist before he leans forward, fully smiling this time and pulling you closer. it’s the first one you’ve seen in days. it makes your heart ache. 

“it’s normal to blush when your boyfriend kisses you.” you defend. 

he shakes his head, playfully poking at the side of your cheek before dropping his hand. 

“you’re always greedy. so greedy that you got so used to it. i usually have to rile you up in five different ways before i see that pretty flush creep down your neck.” 

“you’re a pervert. read the room.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“i am reading the room. you and i are the only ones in it.” he deadpans. 

“every person we know is outside.” you whisper. 

“come on. one kiss and i’ll go back.” he whispers back. 

“sukuna.” 

“please.” 

you roll your eyes before placing both of your hands on his cheeks and leaning forward. and as many comments as you made about reading the room and trying to deny it, you’re way too excited to lean forward – nearly smacking your nose into his – as you lock your lips with his. 

but it’s nothing like you expected. 

because while he was joking a few minutes prior, the kiss is so soft, dripping with longing that it takes you by surprise. it reminded you of the quiet moments – when he’d trace the freckles on your cheek or press kisses to your knuckles before bed – so overwhelming, so intimate that you felt like he had creeped up inside of you. 

when you flicker your eyes open, his eyes are filled with tears. 

“i’m sorry for avoiding you.” he whispers. 

“that’s okay, you…” 

“i knew this would happen if i was around you for too long.” he responds. 

you pause, taken aback by his words. 

“what?” 

“i wouldn’t be able to keep it together.” he responds, voice cracking as the tears start spilling down his cheeks.

you frown, reaching forward to wipe the wetness away.

“you don’t have to keep it together.” you whisper. 

“we both know i do.” he responds, his gaze wavering to the floor. 

you feel your heart drop, at the mere premise, before pressing yourself closer to him, feeling him sag nearly his entire weight onto you. he presses a kiss on your shoulder that makes you shiver. 

“can we please talk when we go home? just a few more days before…” 

“yeah. just you and me, okay?” 

he nods, lifting your hands against his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"don't be hurt if I avoid you."

"you could never hurt me. i know whatever you do, there's a reason for it."

sukuna groans, before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"you're perfect, you know that?"

you give him a teasing grin, before shrugging.

"i can't help it." you joke.

he smiles, before leaning forward to press another kiss to your lips. 

“make me a promise.” he whispers, a slight strain in his voice. 

“okay.” 

he swallows hard.

“you can’t die.” 

you lean back, pressing your hand into the softness of his hair, before looking at his brown eyes, so full and expectant as they wait for an answer. 

“of course not.” 

“you’d take me right with you if you did. you can’t.” he begs. 

you give him a smile. 

“i won’t. i promise, ryomen.” you respond, reaching forward to cross on his heart.

he gives you a shaky sigh, before nodding and pressing one last kiss to your cheek before exiting back out. 

and you thank your lucky stars. he came back. 

--

you smack nobara in the back of the head when you make your way back to her and yuuji. because not only are yuuji and nobara nursing two glasses of red wine, but they’re also emptying her trusty hot pink flash into the glass when people aren’t looking. 

“are you insane?” you whisper. 

“do you want a sip?” yuuji asks. 

you immediately take the glass from his hand, earning you laughs from the two of them, as the three of you lean against the wall, watching everyone mill around the room. as irritating as the guy was, mr. itadori was really only all types of heinous and horrible with those closest to them. 

to the community, it was a grave loss. and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room – except from the three people it was probably expected from the most. 

you could hear the whispers. they were so strong. you fight the urge to laugh in their faces. it was the understatement of the century. 

sammy joins you on the wall after an hour of mingling, an awkward jostle between her and nobara, before the two of them were sharing their glasses and muttering under their breaths about how insane maki and mai were. 

“funerals are weird.” yuuji mumbles, leaning his head against yours.

“how so?” 

“these two idiots were fighting at your birthday like a week ago. and no one’s even batting an eye that mr. johnson is sitting with his mistress while his wife gets drunk in the corner.” 

“that’s not his mistress. she was blonde.” 

“bold of you to assume there was only one.” 

you shiver in disgust, earning you a laugh from yuuji, as you finish off the last of his glass. except that’s right when sukuna walks up to you, eyes panicked as he takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the table. 

“hey baby.” he whispers. 

“hi sukuna. want some of our conc –” 

“whatever happens, i’m right here, okay?” he says, the tone in his voice urgent. 

you laugh, looking over to give yuuji a weird look, only to find that he’s staring past sukuna’s shoulder, swallowing hard. 

“huh? i don’t follow.” 

sukuna pinches his eyes shut, almost like he’s pained, before moving to your side, when you finally see it. he squeezes your hand so hard you think he might have broken it. 

you suppose it’s ironic. 

yuuji and sukuna’s shitty dad is dead. and your deadbeat one is standing four feet away from you, with two little girls at his side.

--

next part linked here

an: yolo.

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[greenwitchfromthewoods]

ricochet l Javier Peña

Summary:  you shouldn't sleep with a coworker who also irritates you so much

Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, swearing, fingering, sex without protection (don’t do that!), guns, shooting, violence

A/N: this is my first story for javier. please be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

A loud knock echoed through your apartment and it was it that woke you up. You reached for the clock lying on the nightstand and groaned quietly. It was almost two in the morning, not the best time for visits. However, the knocking didn’t stop and eventually you had to drag yourself out of bed.

On your way to the door you turned on the lamp in the living room and soon turned the key.

"What the fuck, Javi?" you hissed seeing a familiar face on the other side "Do you know what time it is?"

"Perfect for a visit to such a beautiful woman." he replied, leaning nonchalantly against your door, his dark eyes running down your body dressed only in shorts and a top "I was wondering what you wear to sleep, hermosa. So, naked only next to me?"

"You're drunk." you stated, crossing your arms over your chest "Jesus, did you really have to come here?"

"There's no better place. Can I come in?"

Javier didn't wait for an answer, he just passed you in the doorway and finally sat down on your couch. You watched as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and soon you smelled the pungent smell of smoke.

"Why did you come?" you asked, approaching him with resignation. "Can't you get to your apartment by yourself?"

He took a drag on his cigarette and a wisp of smoke escaped from between his lips. He had time. Drunk Javier Peña always had time, and he liked to spend it the most on teasing you. Testing your limits was his passion, even when sober.

You made one serious mistake. A mistake that shouldn't be made with a coworker. 

Some time ago, you slept with Javier when you were both celebrating someone's birthday. You were drunk, and so was he. 

He seemed so charming and seductive then. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you what you could do together if you just left that hole in the wall. His large hand rested on your thigh, slowly moving higher and higher.

So you went to your apartment and you did it. Not once. Three times, to be honest. 

After that, you thought everything would go back to normal. You'd be back at your desk in the office, working together to take down the Medellín Cartel and everything would be like it used to be.

You couldn't have been more wrong.

Your verbal fights were becoming more and more frequent and sometimes it was only Murphy who was able to send you back to your corners. Recently, Peña outdid himself when he wanted to forbid you from going with the team to arrest a larger group of people.

And at that very moment, he was sitting drunk in your living room, completely unconcerned about anything.

"I missed you, dulce." (sweet) he groaned looking at you with tenderness "I've been wondering all evening why you're so mean to me..."

"Mean?!" you repeated after him snorting.

"...and haughty. I thought that after such a good fuck you should be much nicer to me."

Your jaw dropped to the floor. You didn't feel like sleeping anymore, but your blood pressure was quickly rising.

"Javier, what the fuck are you talking about!" you finally choked out “I should be nicer? You treat me like some secretary, but we should work together as a team. Besides... Fuck! I'm not going to talk to you about this now! Go back to your place. You're drunk."

Javier stubbed out his cigarette in the glass ashtray lying on the coffee table and stood up slowly approaching you. His dark eyes bored through you and you felt uncomfortable at that moment.

"I know you don't mean it, hermosa." he said in a quiet but firm voice "I know you'd like to feel my cock inside you again. And do you wanna know how I know that?" he leaned in so he could whisper in your ear "I can still taste your pussy on my tongue. The sweetest I've ever had. Addictive."

A shiver ran down your spine straight to your core, but you didn't let it show. You couldn't let him win. 

Yes! Of course you were thinking back to that night, but Javier was so sure of himself that you would never admit it.

"Get out." you replied seeing a sly smile appearing under his mustache.

"Are you scared because I told the truth?"

"I'm not scared, Peña. I'm not one of your hookers that you can come to whenever your pants get too tight. Get out."

Still smiling he passed you, gently nudging your shoulder and soon you heard the door slam shut.

Fucking Javier Peña.

The next day at the office, you both pretended that nothing had happened. You focused on your work, not even looking up when Peña and Murphy showed up. 

The day passed with paperwork and drinking a dozen cups of coffee. The thought of going to a night meeting with one of the informants was not something you were excited to do, especially since you didn't get a good night's sleep last night, but you didn't want to give it up.

When the office slowly started to empty, you took your walkman out of the drawer, slid in the cassette that you got from the colleague at the desk next to you and soon closed your eyes, hoping for a moment of rest before leaving. 

Music quietly resounded in your ears. You sat comfortably in the chair, resting your legs on the desk and tried to restart your brain.

This work was exhausting, but with each subsequent arrest you felt more and more proud of what you were doing. You were far from achieving your goals, but maybe soon...

Your heavy desk shook strangely, and after a second someone slid your headphones off your ears.

"Don't sleep during shift!"

Javier sat down on some of your papers, completely unconcerned that he had knocked a few files to the ground.

"What's this?" he asked, turning the box from your cassette over in his fingers.

"I got this. From Bradley. Could you?" you held out your hand for him to give you what was yours, but Javier had no intention of doing so yet.

"Did he make you a compilation of some romantic shit?" he snorted. "I don't want to worry you, sweetie, but Mr. Bradley definitely wants to get into your panties."

"Why do you think I'm worried about that?"

"Because you deserve more." he put the box on your outstretched hand.

"Oh! You mean someone like you?" you raised your eyebrows, trying not to laugh. "Maybe I prefer nice guys, Peña."

"I'm nice guy, hermosa." He unceremoniously reached for your cup of cold coffee and took a few sips. "You're the only one who doesn't want to admit that you have a wet patch in your panties just by the sight of me."

"I won't be the one to boost your already too high ego, babe." You replied, sliding your legs off the desk. "You're doing it yourself perfectly well. Did you come to tease me or do you have some business?"

His smile disappeared and Javier frowned. Yes, he had a business.

"I heard you were going to meet the informant right away. I thought I could replace you."

"Why?" You frowned, surprised by his proposal.

Javier looked away from you as if he was looking for the right words.

"It's just a bad neighborhood, you know. I don't want you to go there alone." He finally replied.

"I'll be with Bradley, so what could happen?"

"Bradley? Jesus, really?" he automatically reached for a cigarette, but didn't light it, just rolled it in his long fingers "In that case, I'll go with you instead of him."

"No." you shook your head "You can't keep interfering in my work. He's my informant, and a stranger will only scare him."

"Bullshit!"

"I won't discuss this with you." you stated, standing up and picking up your bag "If you have a problem with me, go to the boss. But don't tell me what I can and can't do."

You noticed Bradley calling you to the door and you headed towards him, still feeling Javier's gaze on you.

"Y/N!" his voice sounded like a gunshot in the now empty office, you looked in his direction "Be careful."

"Have you seen Y/L/M today?"

Murphy looked at his friend in surprise. He looked around the office, but he didn't see a familiar face anywhere.

"Wasn't she supposed to meet with an informant yesterday?" he asked, returning his gaze to the documents he held in his hand. "She probably overslept."

"Y/N never did it." Javier mumbled, quickly glancing towards the opening door as if he was counting on seeing you there.

"Maybe she's already gone home. We spent a few hours out of town. Maybe you should just call her or go over to her place. By the way, why are you so interested?"

"Fuck off."

Murphy smiled as he saw Javier reach for the phone and dial a number. However, after a few rings, he hung up, disappointed.

"Nothing?"

Peña shook his head.

"Hey! Have you seen Bradley?" he called out to the employee who was sitting near your desk.

"Not today." he replied "I think he took the day off."

"And agent Y/L/N?"

"Same here."

"Office romance?" Steve smiled looking at Javier, but he didn't seem calmer. "We were going to leave anyway so why don't you just go to her, huh?"

"Yeah, I'll do that." he nodded.

But even though he showed up at your door and knocked for a long time, no one opened it. Javier felt a strange knot in his stomach, something like a bad feeling, although he preferred not to think about it.

He already felt like an idiot. He didn't know why he came and why he cared so much. Javier had known you for almost two years and it was quite an interesting acquaintance.

He would never admit it openly, but he loved teasing you, and at the same time he respected your professionalism very much. You never ran away from hard work, even if it meant working late at night.

He liked watching you work in the field or at your desk. He knew how you drink your coffee and that you take your shoes off under your desk when you do paperwork.

Peña was a man of flesh and blood, he could appreciate the beauty of women and had a weakness for them. And somehow you didn't have a weakness for him. Maybe that was what attracted him to you?

"And? Have you seen her?"

Javier shook his head, taking the cigarette out of his mouth "I was there, but the apartment seems empty."

"Have you asked the neighbors?" Murphy sat down at his desk "These old grannies often know a lot more."

"They haven't seen her in two days." unexpectedly Peña frowned and craned his neck, spotting someone in the distance "Is that fucking Bradley?"

Murphy spun around in his chair "Yeah, that's him. But somehow... Peña!"

But the man was already heading towards Bradley. The man had not yet managed to get to his desk when it stopped in front of him.

"Hi. Did you see..." but suddenly he saw something that worried him even more "What happened to your face?"

"Someone beat you up?" Steve asked approaching them "What the fuck?"

"Where's Y/N?" Javier immediately interjected.

Bradley looked at both men a little confused. There was a yellow bruise under his eye, and a cut was visible on his lower lip, he also looked a little sore.

"It happened after that meeting with the informant." he mumbled, pointing to his face "Y/N and I ran into some bad company."

"What about her?" Javier was already clearly worried.

"I don't know..."

"What?!" Peña raised his voice so much that Steve had to put a hand on his shoulder trying to calm him down "You were there with her! What the fuck happened?"

"I told you! We left the meeting. We were about to go to the car when a few guys stopped us. They were hitting on Y/N. We got into a discussion and when it turned out that I am a cop..."

Peña felt like something heavy had fallen into his stomach. A thousand visions of what could have happened were flashing through his mind.

However, Bradley continued "We had a bit of a fight. After everything was over I took Y/N to the hospital, but she didn't want me to stay with her so I went to my place."

"You left her there alone, you idiot?!" Javier growled.

"She's not a child! She told me to fuck off, what was I supposed to do?!" Bradley was already furious too "Go to her if you fucking care about her so much!"

"I'll do it!"

A knock on the door echoed throughout the hallway again. An older woman poked her head out of one of the apartments and for a moment watched the black-haired man knocking on the door of the young woman she sometimes saw.

"Y/N! I know you're there!" Javier finally announced towards the closed door "If you don't open it, I'll come here with a whole strike force! You don't want a fucking mess here, do you? Open this fucking door!"

He put his ear to the door and was sure he heard movement behind it. You had to be there.

"Y/N... please." he added a little calmer "It's me."

After a dozen or so long seconds, he heard the key turn in the lock and the door opened, letting some light into the dark hallway. Javier wasn't ready for what he saw.

He felt like his heart had broken into a million pieces at the sight of your face. Your eyes were red, probably from crying. There was also a bruised cheek and an ugly cut lower lip, and with each passing moment he noticed more and more.

"Hi." your quiet voice was barely audible where he stood "I took a few days off. Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone..." Apart from you.

"I noticed." he mumbled "Can I come in?"

You opened the door wider and Javier slipped inside, closing it carefully behind him. The room was dimly lit, a few lamps and a few candles were lit. He noticed the curtains being drawn, as if you wanted to hide from the whole world.

"Would you like to..." you didn't finish, because his hand grabbed your chin lightly.

Peña directed your face towards the nearest light source. You saw the glow reflected in his eyes, which were carefully studying you. He let out a quiet breath when he noticed the bruises on your neck, as if a man's hand had left a mark. A few scratches on your arms.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Javier, please..." you whimpered, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, it was too painful for you, too intimate.

"Tell me. Please, hermosa.” He wasn't ordering, he was begging you. He was asking you to trust him.

You clumsily grabbed the edge of your shirt and lifted it, showing him the bruises on your side. His breath caught in his lungs.

"They're not broken." You said as warm fingers brushed your skin. "I had an X-ray. It just looks that awful. And it hurts a little."

"Did they... Did they do anything more?"

You knew perfectly well what Peña meant. You lowered your shirt.

"No." You shook your head and he wiped his mouth with his hand. "They talked about it, but... No, nothing more."

"Thank God."

You didn't know what to say. Tears filled your eyes and after a moment you felt his strong arms hug you to his chest. You snuggled into him, sobbing quietly. You felt his hands as he stroked your hair and back, trying not to cause any more pain.

"It's okay, hermosa.” he said quietly, kissing your forehead. "You're safe. You should have called me. You know I would have come right away."

"I didn't want to bother you, besides, it's just bruises..."

"But I want you to bother me. If something happened to you... Fuck! Would you be able to recognize them?"

"I don't know, I don't think so..." you moved away from him and sat down carefully on the couch. "I don't want to go back to this, Javier. I'll be back at work in a few days... We've gathered new information..."

"Fuck this whole cartel! Fuck Escobar!" he growled. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror?!"

"I see myself all the time. And I assure you, today I look really good."

He shook his head in disbelief. You looked so much like him. Peña seemed to be starting to understand why he was pissing you off so much.

"I know what you're thinking and I don't want you to do this." You finally spoke up, his watchful gaze settling on your face. "You're not going to be running around the streets looking for those guys now. That's not your job, Javier. There are more important things."

"You're important!" he hissed, pointing a finger at you. "I should go to Bradley and kick his ass. And then find those fucking guys and do to them what they did to you."

"But you're not going anywhere and you're not going to do anything." You saw him thrashing around like a beast in a cage. Javier Peña was demanding blood and revenge. "Listen, I knew what I was getting into when I came here. It could have been worse. I could have been raped by a few and ended up in some ditch on the outskirts of town."

"Sweet Jesus Christ!" Peña groaned "This is no time for such jokes!"

"I'm not joking." Now you were standing too, ready to face him "The bruises will heal, and we're here for something more. You can yell at me, you know I can take it. But you have to focus on our work!"

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He quickly lit the first one and inhaled the smoke. He knew you were right. He would tell you the same thing if he was standing in your place.

Finally, he nodded, admitting you were right, and a faint smile of relief appeared on your face.

"But from now on, you'll be riding with me to and from work. I don't accept any objections!"

Getting back to work turned out to be easier than you thought. The information you had gathered helped you track down the nearest smuggling operation and the entire unit was preparing for new arrests. You had been putting in long hours at work, so Javier's offer to drive you home really suited you.

Although at first glance your contacts hadn't changed, you had noticed that he had become much calmer when he had his eye on you. You had caught him looking around the office more than once, searching for you. You had smiled and shaken your head reproachfully when he had winked at you.

However, all of that had gone to hell an hour before you had to leave to stop the transfer. Murphy had found you arguing fiercely by the car and it had taken him a while to figure out what you were on about.

"Peña's gone crazy!" you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest, "He doesn't want me to go with you! I'm the one who got that fucking information!"

"They're going to shoot there, loca!" (crazy) he growled with his hands on his hips.

"Oh! I thought we were going on a fucking picnic!"

"Maybe Y/N should wear a vest, she'll be close to us." Murphy butted in, not afraid of his friend's angry glare.

"That's an idea!" you replied pleased with Steve’s words "I'll take the fucking vest! Will you be happy then, Peña?"

"Not really." he grumbled "You have to stay close to me."

"But not too close." you added getting into his car.

"Close!" he growled, slamming the door.

He didn't like the idea, and he didn't like Murphy standing by your side even more. The whole way out of town he clenched his fingers tightly on the steering wheel. He would feel much calmer if you stayed in the office, but you didn't listen to him again. You were already leaving the forest when he reached into the backseat and threw a green bulletproof vest on your lap.

You rolled your eyes, but Peña ignored it. 

"Put it on."

So you followed his order and then stayed close. However, neither of you were ready for what was happening. The group of smugglers turned out to be larger and soon the shooting began.

You dodged the bullets by hiding behind the wall of the building. A dozen or so members of the strike team passed you. You went after them, seeing Peña's back in the distance. You spotted the first arrestees, and Murphy was throwing some trucks out from behind the wheel.

"Y/L/N!"

You noticed Peña calling you and went towards him when you heard a gunshot. Something hit you in the chest and you staggered, but after a moment you saw Javier aiming at some guy behind a nearby building. More shots were fired

"Hey!" Steve ran up to you "Is something... Fuck!"

"Vest." You mumbled in surprise, feeling a hole under your fingers "The bullet must have bounced off something..."

Suddenly, Javier appeared next to you. Dark sweaty locks stuck to his forehead, a mixture of rage and fear was painted in his eyes.

"I saw you got hit!" he growled.

"She had a vest on!" Steve replied quickly "She's fine!"

"Fuck! I told you to stay!"

"It was a ricochet!" you replied furiously "I'm fine!"

"You were supposed to be close!" Peña retorted "To the car! I'm taking you back!"

"But I..."

However, he had already grabbed your arm tightly pulling you towards the car. You stumbled on the way, but he didn't even slow down. He forced you inside and slammed the door shut.

"Not a word!" he growled, threatening you with his finger as soon as you opened your mouth.

Soon he started the engine and you drove off abruptly. You drove out from between the buildings, heading down the road through the forest. You could feel how furious Javier was and you were angry at him yourself. He treated you like an intern, just because you were a woman.

"Are you going to stay silent the whole way?" you growled looking at his clenched jaw and deeply heaving chest "Fine! At least I don't have to listen to your bullshit!"

The car suddenly pulled onto a side road and stopped. In an instant Peña turned towards you. His dark eyes were focused on you, he looked like he wanted to tear you into a thousand pieces. Before you could say anything he ripped off your vest. You saw the relief on his face when he saw that you were indeed not injured.

"Fucking ricochet!" he hissed "You're so fucking stubborn! So annoying!"

"You're no better!" you replied "Just because I'm a woman you treat me like..."

You didn't finish. His hand grabbed the back of your neck and forcefully pulled you to him, your lips crushed hard. 

It was full of teeth and fighting between you. But you didn't back down when his tongue pushed between your lips. On the contrary, your hand moved to his crotch where you could feel how hard he was. 

You knew what he wanted, you wanted the same. You didn't protest when he quickly started to unbutton your pants. Your lips parted only for a moment to free your legs and then you sat on his lap, struggling with his zipper.

"So disobedient." he hissed through his teeth "You'll be the death of me someday."

"I'm not sure which of us will finish the other off first." you mumbled "But it's only a matter of time."

His hard cock came out and you knew you wouldn't last if you didn't feel him inside you right away. You felt his long fingers slide over your folds.

"So wet already?" Peña purred and a sly smile appeared under his mustache "I knew it, hermosa. You have a soft spot for me."

"Maybe I just want to fuck you?" you replied, one of his fingers slipping inside you.

"That's for sure!" his eyes were fixed on the spot where his hand was moving "You were rubbing that sexy ass of yours all over the office. Just waiting for me to put my cock in you one more time."

"Don't forget, you're the one who came to me trying to get into my bed again." you sighed, your hand rubbing his cock, a little precum glistening on his red tip.

"But I don't deny that I have a weakness for you, hermosa.”

His hand withdrew and he gripped your hips tightly to position you just above his manhood. His tip slid over your entrance a few times, then slid in in one swift movement.

The air escaped your lungs and your head fell back against Javier's forehead as you closed your eyes. His cock stretched you wonderfully, reaching so deep inside you. But you didn't want to wait any longer.

His hands squeezed your hips as you began to move up and down. In each thrust you felt all the stress and anger that filled you, but lust followed right behind it. The car filled with your moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin.

"So good, hermosa. You're so tight, so good for me..." Javier whispered, his voice darker than usual "I've wanted to be back in that pussy for so long. Fuck! I'd take you on the fucking desk so everyone could see how good you take me."

You felt a slap on your ass, but it only made the excitement in your core grow. Peña's cock hit exactly the spot you wanted. He could do anything to you then.

"Jesus, right there..." you moaned "I'm so close!"

"That's good! You'll take everything I give you, right?" he began to press you harder against his hips "I knew that pussy was missing me, hermosa.”

"You're a bastard, Peña." you groaned "Fucking bastard."

"With the best cock you've ever had, right? I'm sure no one has ever fucked you like I have. C'mon, chica! Give it to me! I want to hear you come!"

"Javier, please..."

"Oh, you'll beg me again soon." His lips sucked on your neck below the collar of your shirt, leaving a mark on it. A mark that Javier Peña had you. "I'll fuck you so hard all night long that you won't be able to walk properly. Everyone in the office will know who owns this pussy!"

"Fuck!"

The velvet walls trembled and tightened around his cock as a spasm of pleasure spread through your body. You dug your nails into his shoulders, moaning loudly as you came. Javier was right behind you.

He thrust a few more times and came, spilling inside you. He breathed deeply, resting his head against the headrest. His dark eyes watched you lazily, you felt his hands running over your aching thighs.

"We should get back to the office." you finally spoke up. "Murphy will be there soon."

"You're probably right." he replied, his tongue licking his dry lips.

You slid off him, feeling his cum running down your thighs. However, you slipped into your panties and pants, trying to get yourself in order. The engine started.

Suddenly, you felt Javier's arm leaning against your seat, and when you looked up, you saw his face turned towards you. You couldn't decipher what was going on in his head.

"I really meant what I said." he declared, smiling slightly. "I have a soft spot for you, mujer loca.(crazy woman) And it will kill me someday."

"I don't know if I can make that happen, Javier." you replied, your hand tightened on his thigh. "You're worse than the cockroaches in our office's basement." he shook his head in disbelief "And that's why you were so tense and angry lately, huh? Your pants must have been really tight if you were still hard at the sight of me."

"Sweet as always." he snorted, laughing.

He leaned down and his lips touched yours again. But now he kissed you tenderly, exploring your mouth with his tongue, drawing from you the sweet moans he loved so much. 

You were his death, the sweetest he had ever known.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[crushpunky]

kook!reader celebrates rafe’s birthday

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

One thing about Rafe was that, while he was one for parties, he was certainly not one for birthday parties. Nearly every year since they had become friends, his birthday consisted of a nice dinner and a walk along the beach (accompanied with a joint once they got older). This year was no different, y/n making sure the table setting was perfect while Topper and Kelce worked at the grill.

“You see how much better mine looks though, right?” Kelce poked lightly at his perfectly seared steak, causing Topper to scowl at his own burnt piece of meat.

“That one can be the birthday boy’s then.” Y/n sang, pecking Kelce’s cheek playfully. The two of them groaned, but didn’t argue.

“What time is it? He said he was gonna be here at like 6.” Topper said, glancing down at his watch. It was nearly 7:30, the candles they had set out nearly entirely burnt and the sun mostly behind the trees that surrounded the backyard of Tanneyhill. It wasn’t unlike Rafe to be late, but without even a text explaining what the hold up was, y/n couldn’t help but worry. He was out for the day with his dad, who insisted they go out fishing to “bond” on his son’s birthday… not like he even gave a shit about said son. She took out her phone, getting ready to press “call” when the patio door slammed.

“Jesus, Top. That looks like shit.” Rafe laughed, leaning onto Topper’s shoulders with a laugh, his drink hanging from his hand dangerously. Topper groaned, taking his steak off before shoving Rafe away from him. Rafe stumbled, hitting the dining table. Y/n jumped back, but it was too late, his drink had already slipped from his grasp and spilled all over the front of her dress. The perfect shade of blue she knew Rafe loved now stained a muddy brown.

“Oh shit, my bad.” Rafe giggled. Y/n looked up from her soaked dress as Rafe straightened himself up, not even bothering to pick up his overturned glass or offer her a napkin. She took a step closer, getting a better look at him. His eyes refused to meet hers, dashing around rapidly, his pupils blown. A soft red hue illuminated his cheeks and a powdery white residue dusted his nose.

“Are you seriously high right now?” Y/n scoffed, causing Rafe to wipe his nose with the back of his hand. All this work she had put into this, to show her appreciation for him, and not only does he show up an hour and a half late, but he shows up high?

“How the fuck else do you expect me to last a day with my dad?” Rafe said with a shrug, running a hand through his hair.

“Why didn’t you talk to me? I could’ve helped you. I could’ve—” Y/n stammered, her hands trembling as she tried her best to keep herself from shouting at him.

“Jesus, y/n! It’s already over, can we just have this stupid fucking dinner?” Rafe snapped. Topper let out a small gasp, his eyes quickly darting over towards y/n.

“This ‘stupid fucking dinner’?” Y/n said quietly. He knew how much time she had put into this dinner, how important it was to her to let him feel loved, even if it was just for a few hours… and he thought it all was stupid. That she was stupid.

“Y/n y’know I didn’t mean it like that—” Rafe took a step towards her, his arms outstretched, but she took a step back, her eyes filled with disgust.

“How did you mean it then, Rafe? Cause it sounds like you think like I’m a fucking idiot for putting all this together for your birthday—” Y/n snapped, her arms flailing as she wildly looked around at the patio she had put all this effort into.

“I didn’t—” Rafe pleaded

“And I’m a fucking idiot for wanting to show you how much I appreciate you and love you—” Y/n continued, tears fully streaming down her cheeks with every word.

“Y/n please—” Rafe grabbed onto one of her shaking hands, pulling it up to his chest.

“What the fuck did you mean then, Rafe? Please, tell me.” Y/n looked up at him, her bottom lip trembling. Rafe opened his mouth to speak, his scattered mind trying to find the right thing to say. Y/n tore her eyes away from him, composing herself with a deep breath.

“Look, I know that things with your dad are hard, and I’m sorry for… flipping out on you, but I wish that you would just talk to me, Rafe. I–we– love you and just want to help you, you just have to let us.” Y/n said softly, her fingers curling into Rafe’s hand. Rafe closed his eyes for a second, swallowing harshly. 

He knew she was right, that he needed to talk to them, but somehow he found it nearly impossible to do so. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, he just didn’t want them to worry about him. Topper and Kelce had told him that they had seen y/n break down time and time again, stressing over whether or not he was going to be okay, and he just couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t do that to anybody, but especially not to her. So he wouldn’t, holding everything in until it eventually became too unbearable and he exploded, hurting her anyway…

“Ok, ok, I should’ve talked to you.” Rafe nodded, looking over at Topper and Kelce, the two boys smiling back at him stoically, before turning back towards y/n.

“So can we please celebrate my best friend's birthday now?” Y/n said with a slight raise of her eyebrows.

“I guess so,” Rafe said with a sly grin, “but I am not eating any steak that Topper made.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re lucky it’s your birthday.” Topper rolled his eyes, bringing the tray of steaks over to the table. Rafe picked up his glass before settling into his seat, the other two boys joining him at the table. Y/n quickly rushed into the house, grabbing a few things before running back outside, the boys already beginning to dish out the food that had mostly gone cold.

“Close your eyes for a second.” Y/n said to Rafe, who narrowed his eyes before hesitantly obliging. She sat her gift in his lap, backing away before clasping her hands in front of her excitedly.

“Ok, open.” She grinned. Rafe opened his eyes, peering down at the bright blue, patterned paper sparkling gently in the dim candlelight.

“I thought you were supposed to wait until after the meal to open presents?” Rafe smirked, causing y/n to roll her eyes before beckoning him to open his gift. With an exaggerated huff, Rafe tore into the paper, unveiling his gift. Inside the paper rested a picture frame decorated with various trinkets: receipts from their favorite coffee shop, ticket stubs from the movies, even a couple of shells. On the inside of the frame, a picture of the four of them sitting on the beach, drinks in hand, wide smiles on all of their faces, and not a single care in the world. Rafe scanned over it, thinking back to the day they had had on the beach, as well as all the other countless days the four of them had spent together. Though usually not one for gifts, Rafe couldn’t help but feel his heart swell as he soaked it in.

“There’s a note on the back, too. You don’t have to read it now—” Y/n began, but Rafe had already flipped it over and began to read. As his eyes looked over y/n’s swirling handwriting, a smile grew on his face. Once he finished, he looked up at y/n who was biting her lip nervously. He stood from his chair quickly, wrapping y/n in a hug that almost knocked her over. Once she regained her footing, she hugged him back, burying her face into his shirt.

“Thank you.” He said into her hair, inhaling deeply. While he could still feel a bit of his high floating in his head, it was nothing compared to how he felt right now. No amount of drugs or alcohol or sex could ever compare to this moment, this feeling, of pure, unadulterated love.

“Love you, boy. Happy birthday.” Y/n said once Rafe’s hold on her, loosened reluctantly. She reached behind her, grabbing one of the cheesy, little party hats she had bought. Stepping onto her tiptoes, she reached to put it on top of Rafe’s head, his hands falling to rest on her waist. Once she finally got the hat to stay, she lowered back onto her feet and peered up at Rafe with a grin.

“Love you too, girl.” Rafe said, pressing a kiss to the top of y/n’s head before turning back towards the table. Topper and Kelce were already watching, the two of them with mischievous grins on their faces… and phones in hand, cameras focused on big bad Rafe Cameron with his little party hat and a blushed grin on his face as he peered down at his best friend.

“Oh fuck you guys.” Rafe said, rolling his eyes before pulling out y/n’s chair. The two of them sat down opposite Topper and Kelce who were already flaunting their photos.

“Send that to me, please. I still haven’t posted a photo dump.” Y/n said, beginning to fill her plate.

“I will throw you into the ocean.” Rafe pointed at her with his fork, an eyebrow raised. The four of them burst into laughter, their giggles filling the air with the sounds of love and friendship.

[aphroditesmoon]

you go back to the old house, but you've been locked out

jacaerys velaryon/strong x fem!reader (modern!au)

summary: when your boyfriend finds out that you have never celebrated christmas before, he invites you to have your first with his family.

warnings: *do not read if you have any of the triggers* artist!reader, poc coded reader, depictions of mental illnesses, domestic abuse, physical abuse, mentions of suicide attempts, mentions of ED, mostly fluff, NSFW (SMUT! MINORS DNI!!), blackcat!reader and goldenretriever!jace, only rhaenyra's children with harwin exists in this au, title and fic inspired by There must be more than blood by Car Seat Headrest.

wc: 17.4K

a/n: this is for my babies who think they're unlovable of some sort, you are not too much or not enough, and you are completely lovable and you will find the rght kind of love for you one day.

When you first told Jacaerys that you have never actually celebrated Christmas before, you didn't think it would pull out such an intense reaction.

You've been dating him for about 4 months now, the two of you agreed to take things slow under your request, but by this point, you both have grown comfortable enough around each other to move forwards past the small talk stage.

And it is in these moments that you genuinely wonder if all the new small details and information about yourself that you had initially held from him before would cause any issues within the relationship. For example, the fact that you've never celebrated Christmas, or how you have an antipathy for your birthday and double dates. You also don't believe in celebrating annual anniversaries.

In the second month of your relationship with Jace, you discovered how important anniversaries were to him and it was an honestly amusing idea to you. But after you noticed how disappointed he was to find out that you didn't care for the special day, you decided to let his predilection for it prevail.

Plus it was just like having an extra special date every month that you didn't have to pay for, what's the harm in that?

Upon finding out that Christmas was a foreign concept to you, he asks you if it was a religion thing at first. You weren't particularly religious, nor are you against it in any way, then he asked you if it had anything to do with the whitewashing of Jesus Christ. You laughed until you realized he was serious.

"No, it's nothing to do with the whitewashing of Jesus of Nazareth." He raised a brow in suspicion. "Are you sure? Cause if it is then I fully support you." You smiled and him and shook your head in assurance. "I've just never celebrated it for some reason."

"But why?" He asked again, pushing for a good answer. Jace loved christmas, that one was easy to tell. You're just not sure if it's because he had strong family values and loved spending time with his family or because he really loved gifts and knew that he'd get good ones every year thanks to the fact that he is rich.

"My family never celebrated christmas, so I never did." You answered decisively. "Are they superstitious or something?" You replied no. "I guess my parents just didn't see what good it can do besides making a waste of money." Your financial situation was a touchy topic, you could see him leaving it at that, ending the interrogation. "So what'll you do on this 30th?" He asks instead.

"What I always do, stay at my apartment, maybe go on a shopping trip with all the Christmas discounts." His eyes widen in horror as if you've just told him that you had killed a man. "You're spending Christmas alone?" You could laugh at his worry if you didn't think that it would hurt his feelings. "Well, my roommate is flying back to her hometown."

"So, why don't you fly back home too? It's not just christmas, the semester break is over 2 weeks." You shrugged and went over some excuses in your head before settling for one. "Believe me, they'd rather I stay here and focus on my studies. There'd be no point anyway, since you know, I don't celebrate Christmas." His lips thinned as he analyzes you in the most obvious way possible, making you groan internally in your head.

Jace was a problem solver. You learned that very quick into your relationship.

He always tries to make the best out of every condition he's put into. And you can tell how much the idea of you being alone for two weeks bugged him. "Two weeks flies faster than you'll realize, I'm telling you Jace, I'm used to this." Oh that wouldn't cut it for him. "What if you came home with me?"

You blinked at him in confusion, his words registering very slowly. "No." You say the first thing you thought of.

His mouth makes an O shape in offense. "Why not?" You rolled your eyes. "You ask that question a lot." "If you answer me for real this time, I won't ask you that again for at least 5 days." You fought back a smile. "Fine. Because it's weird." He frowned. "No it's not, why would it be?"

"Because I've never met your family before, Jace." He shrugged in a careless manner. "Well, there's no time more perfect than Christmas."

Everything is so easy with you, you thought to yourself. Sometimes you wondered if he has ever been caught up in the anxiety of things possibly not going his way for at least once in his life. You weren't bitter, it's genuine curiosity. Jacaerys looked like the type of person who has never been afraid to take a chance with new and risky opportunities. One of them being you. He is either very lucky or very positive. Which in the case of him being incredibly privileged, both.

You took a deep breath before settling your back against the plush of the cushion of your hallway. He understood the indescribable look you gave him and leaned in to place his hands on your shoulder.

"My mom has wanted to see you for ages, there's nothing to be nervous about, I swear." You cocked your head at him. "You've already told your mom about me?" He grinned. "Yeah, she thinks you're pretty. "

Your eyes widened. "You showed her my picture?" He nodded. Oh well, this was inevitable, you told yourself. Really, can you even blame him? Every course of action he has taken so far has only proved himself to be as good as you figured he was from the moment you two met each other. Well at least his mom thinks I'm pretty.

It wasn't that you hated people or disliked socializing so much, moreso that it was just state of normalcy for you. You have friends of course, and you talk to other people, but up until you met Jace, all the other people in your life have always been viewed as a convenience. Association by luck and not exactly a friendship grounded by any sort of deep connection or intimacy.

You gave up trying to pursue or look for that kind of relationship a long time ago. And just when you expected it the least, Jacaerys came into your life and somehow managed to become an intregal part of it. 4 months later, you wonder if it's too early for you to confess that you're unable to really remember your life before him.

You let out a sigh, letting him pull you closer. "Is it not too fast? If this is because you don't like me staying alone, I swear I'm used to it." He didn't say anything at first and only embraced you with his chin resting over your head.

He was either thinking deeply about whatever you just said or he's waiting for you to give in. "2 weeks is a long time, I wouldn't even want to be around my family for 2 weeks." You say, trying to get him to relent.

"We leave on the second week of the break then. We could stay here for the first." It wasn't a bad suggestion, and you know it's not fair to him for you to be holding up all the cards. He deserves to have a say in certain things, and one week with his family sounded like a good compromise.

"I'll think about it." You told him at last. And by the look of his face, he knows he has won. He lowers his head down to kiss you, and you welcome it with ardor.

—

You first met Jacaerys 6 months ago at a frat party. Your project partner Cregan had invited you over, even knowing that oarties were never really your thing. But you were having a bad day and thought, why not?

On your way to the bathroom, you bumped into him. The two of you walked in opposite ways right onto each other. He apologized profusely and had taken your abrasive wave off hand as you made your way to the bathroom as a sign that you were offended. So he waited until you were done peeing so he could apologize again.

You were 5 drinks in dazed and confused, not exactly drunk but not really sober. You figured he probably wanted to hook up because who the hell apologizes this much for bumping into someone. So you glared at him and told him to fuck off.

You never saw him again for the rest of the party. But about 30 minutes later, you decided you were done with the badly remixed disco music and alcohol that tastes like fruit punch and wanted to return to your apartment. You weren't staying in dorms since you managed to rent a place nearby with another girl who was studying at the university too. And although it was much further from campus compared to the dorms, it was considered a walking distance.

How lucky you were that he ended up driving by the road you took walking home. You were prepared to flip him off when he turned his window down, asking if you needed a ride. But once you slowed down to actually look at him, you noticed a certain kind of sincerity in his eyes and gave in.

It wasn't often that you get to meet people who were kind for the sake of being kind. Most people are leeches. But not him.

Neither of you said anything throughout the whole ride except when you thanked him before getting off the car. You didn't think you'd ever see him again after that night. But like fated ropes intertwining, he was the first person you saw in your lecture the next day.

He waved at you from the back seat. You stared at him with squinting eyes to make sure it was the right person before you went back to ignoring him. He ended up moving his seat to the front more and more everytime the two of you had the class again, until 2 weeks in, he finally seated himself next to you. "Are you always this persistently annoying?" You had asked him then. "Only with the ones I like" It was stupid, and cliche and most disgustingly, cute.

And so with every encounter, you began to let your guard down and allow the relationship to naturally take it's own course. 2 months later, you officially started dating one of the most fawned over boys on campus.

Its 6.30am on a Sunday as you jog through the quiet streets behind your apartment building. You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, the heat turning your face red. 30 minutes from now, the roads will begin to flood with people walking to work or going on their own daily run. You know this because you've lived here for 3 years now.

When you decided to study at King's Landing University knowing it'll cost an expensive 3 hour flight for every time you'd want to go back home, it was an obvious decision both to yourself and to your family that you weren't really planning on coming back at all.

For all of 3 years you've been studying here, you had only flown back twice. And neither of those times felt worth the money you paid them for.

If this house suffocates you so badly, we'll see how far you'll survive out there all alone. Your mother had said to you 3 days before you went to college for your first year.

You had proved her wrong with your resilience, but at what cost? Your younger sister doesn't remember how you look like, and your older brother still takes every opportunity presented to him to try and belittle you every time the two of you meet.

Your father was ignorant, uncaring. And your mother? She loves you so much, with every bitter insult she throws your way and every provocation she purposely does just to get a reaction.

When you were 13 years old, she had told you to swing yourself off the highest building in response to you accidentally breaking her favourite plate. And at 16, she found herself crying by your bedside after your failed overdose attempt. At 18, she had spat on your face and announced that for as long as she lived, you would never know a life free of guilt and pain without her blessing as a mother.

At 19, The two of you hugged each other for the last time forever before you decided to never look back at that old haunted house.

You slowed down the pace of your jog, interchanging it with casual walking as you take in the sight of the rising sun. How many times have you walked these dewy streets that smelled like trees and dried rain? Too many to count. And yet, as much as you had tried to make a home out of this place, the isolating feeling that surrounded you daily was persistent.

It was the tiny voice in the back of your head saying, don't forget, these people aren't your people, and the face you put on every day that you're here isn't your own.

Loneliness was a kind of misery, but the hollow reassurance and comfort that came with proving yourself right every time a friend leaves you, or a man you thought was interested in you doesn't stay for the night, seemed to be the only constant thing in your life. That was until you met Jacaerys, of course.

You pause the music being played through your earphones, stretching your neck right after and deciding that you're ready to go home.

The flight to Dragonstone was in 3 days and you haven't really began packing. How much stuff did you need for a one week trip anyways? It was one of those moments that made you too anxious to do anything which ends up making you feel even more anxious because you haven't done anything. You do a turnaround and start walking back to your place as you reshuffle your morning playlist. A text from Jace pops up as your phone dings;

J: want 2 get breakfast in 20?

You swiped your phone open as you keep walking on a medium pace, replying with a quick OK.

It was a routine the two of you have build for over 2 months now, you'll do your 40 minutes morning jog and he'll be outside your building just in time for you to be done with your shower, eager to get some breakfast.

You're grateful for his company, it had become something you looked forward for daily. And for someone who has went through a fair share of disappointments, you really hope that this one would work out.

Anxiety plagued your thoughts as you rethink the idea of meeting his family for Christmas, what if they all thought you looked different than your photos? What if you say the wrong things or make the wrong joke and they think you're indecent? What if you say nothing and they all think you're boring?

The walk back home tired you enough to forget about those questions momentarily, but being given enough time to overthink once you reached your apartment and jumped into the shower, you figured you'd talk this out with Jace later.

He would probably just end up saying something sweet and useless like 'don't worry, just be yourself', but it's better than nothing.

The mirror becomes your worst enemy this morning, Fill in The Blank is playing from your phone as you stare at your dead eyes and immortalized eyebags. The only thing staring back at you is a reflection of a tired child. To grow up in a constant state of pain and to still be scared and hurting even after the war has ended was an everyday battle.

Because in your head, and even when you're sleeping, the war replays itself until you're worn out from it. You constantly remind yourself that you are now free, but sometimes the memory of it feels so alive that you end up making a prison of yourself despite the falseness of the alarm going off in your head.

Slipping a black t-shirt over your head while you make an estimation of how long it would take Jace to get here, you also let your mind stray for a bit, wondering if it all would've been easier if you were someone else. If Jace had dated someone else.

Maybe, maybe not. It didn't matter, because in the end you were still you, and you've only got yourself to work with.

You were drying your hair when you received another text from Jace saying taht he had arrived. Turning off the hair dryer, you sent a quick text back telling him that you were still getting ready and that the extra key was under the mat outside your door.

You could hear the front door click open 5 minutes later as you're finally done getting ready.

Exiting your room, you found him waiting by the kitchen, helping himself on some oreos that you just bought yesterday.

"I hope you're planning on paying me back for those cookies." You joked from the hall as you pulled out your hoodie from the coat hanger, slinging it over your shoulder. "I'll be paying you with my wonderful presence." He retorted back.

Once you found your purse, the two of you finally left the house to get some real food. After a few rounds of suggestions, you opted for a nearby cafe for some pancakes, though Jace ended up ordering some waffles instead.

The whole place was very secluded and smaller compared to the other cafes and diners in the area, but the meals were good and they were cheaper than the others too. You felt beyond lucky when you realized that it was just you both there in this hour. There were two other girls seated from the opposite of your table, but it was quiet enough to your liking.

"Are you done packing?" Jace asked expectedly. He was increasingly thrilled at the prospect of celebrating Christmas together with his family and his girlfriend. You shook your head no whilst you slurp up your strawberry milkshake.

"I'll start packing this evening." "Don't forget to bring a charger, and socks, because it'll probably be cold by the time we get there- oh, also you need a winter coat, and no slippers, only boots, do you want me to make you a list?" You smiled at him in amusement and answered no.

"I already made a list, I know what to bring, don't worry." He was worried, or maybe that's not the right word. No, he was excitable. "What about your parents?" He asks suddenly, causing you to pause in surprise. "What about my parents?"

He shrugged and inched closer to the table. "Have you told them you're coming with me for the semester break?" You relaxed your face, shrugging off the shocked expression you initially wore. "I don't think it's necessary, even if I wasn't going with you, I still wouldn't be going home either."

"Oh, okay." The silence was ineffable. You could hear a silent question that he didn't dare ask; why?

Your family was a rarely spoken topic in your relationship with him. It was easy to not overthink it at first, but you knew that Jace had noticed how you try your best to never bring them up.

"Plus-" you felt the necessity to add, "-they would probably be against the idea if I did tell them about it." He shares a look of curiosity, expecting you to elaborate. "My parents are kind of a strict." You chose to say. "So, they don't know that we're dating?" You shook your head. "They sound protective of you." He says it so confidently that it made you laugh dryly.

A bitter smile was painted over your face as you kept your eyes on the food. "Controlling, would be a more fitting term."

When you finally looked up to meet his gaze, you could tell there was more he wanted to ask, or comment on, but you weren't in the mood to start explaining your lore to him. Thinking about your family made you nauseous, and you really wanted to eat the pancakes without throwing up. "Believe me, its better this way." You concluded, making sure he won't have room to continue.

"Anyways, aren't you the one who should be briefing me about your family." Jacaerys grinned and seemingly forgot about your earlier conversation immediately. "There's not really much to say, you know my brothers Luc and Joffrey? They're pretty young, little rascals but harmless most of the time." You nodded earnestly, encouraging him to go on.

"My mom and dad are excited to meet you, you have nothing to worry about, I'm honestly more scared that they'll end up preferring you than me."

You snorted at that. "Ah yes, I do have a reputation with old people. Do you think it's my beautiful face?" He pretends to think for a moment before responding, "Well it can't be your charming personality." A laugh burst out of you at his words, causing you to receive a glare from the girls from the other table. You gasped out suddenly, remembering a small detail you've never discussed before. "I should bring gifts right?" A look of realization passes over Jace's face at the same time.

"I mean it's Christmas, I've never done it before, but I know presents are a thing."

Jace was quick to interject, telling you it's no need. "They wouldn't care, our tradition is all about spending time together, presents are just courtesy." He explained.

"Yes well, I should get them gifts as a courtesy then." He opens his mouth to argue but you shut him down immediately before he could. "I won't get anything crazy, it's just courtesy like you said." A lot of people might perceive you as nonchalant and uncaring, but the truth was you've always been the person who cares too much until it backfires.And as much as you wished you weren't so desperate to make a good first impression, you do want to, deep in your heart you knew that.

"Okay, fine, if you want to. But you can just get them some keychain or mugs, especially for my brothers, they're already being spoiled enough." You smile gratefully for his cooperation and agree on his terms.

—

One of your favorite terms in the world is the term "white lie." Any lie is excusable if you call it a white lie. It was a form of manipulation that you were used to being given. At first, you implemented it in your life as a way to please other people. A way to become more likeable and less of a burden.

You spent your whole teenage life trying to earn bits and pieces of your mother's love.

No, I'm not mad that you didn't get it for me and only bought one for my brother. Yes, it is my fault that I'm too sensitive and defensive every time we argue. No, I can't remember the last time you ever hit me. Not even the one time from last week when you pulled me by my hair, dragging me to the bathroom and used the water hose on me.

The truth soon became the most dangerous thing in your life. Candor wasn't appreciated in your home. You must watch your mouth and accept what you are given gratefully.

The cycle lasted for years until you turned 16. You had grown strong enough to push her back every time she tried to land a hit on you. Strong enough to know what to say to make it hurt for her too.

The white lies soon turned into a form of protection. No, I wasn't smoking weed under the bleachers after school hours just because it felt safer there than it does in my room. No, I don't know why I'm being written down for failing several subjects consecutively for the whole year, I thought I was doing just fine. No, I know you're doing all of this because you love me.

No, I don't think I can book a flight home for 5 days. I just got a new job, there's too much shit to do.

You stare down at your phone, the unread text stared back at your face.

M: I don't blame you for not wanting to come home, but if you want to, you can.

The only message you've gotten for her for the whole year. Her ego wouldn't force her to plead for her only daughter to come back. So she plays saint and paints you as the girl who grew up too fast and forgot all about home.

I love you, mom. You wanted to say. Love wouldn't be enough.

When was the last time she ever said that she loved you? You can never recall. It definitely wasn't the day before you went to college. No, the night before was spent holding you from behind as the two of you slept in your childhood bed. She had her face in the crook of your neck and you heard her whisper when she thought you were asleep; you were my mirror, and I'm sorry I broke you into pieces just so it'd match my cracks.

She laid with you for a few more minutes before getting up to leave. You cried until dawn and never got a wink of sleep right after.

You expected the newfound freedom to feel exhilarating, but instead, you felt more out of place during the first week at the university than you did at home. It was comical, ironic, how the only pair of hands you wanted to comfort you were the same ones that had beaten bruises on your skin. I miss you, you almost texted her.

Was it still considered a white lie or a form of manipulation if the only person you wanted to trick was yourself? No, I'm not upset that she never called or texted to ask if I've safely landed. No, I never wonder if she regrets everything she's done to me. No, I don't hate her so much sometimes that it could be translated as a child throwing a tantrum just to get their parents to pay attention to her. No, I don't like having one night stands just to know what it's like to be touched without being inflicted with pain.

No, I never wake up from dreams of you loving me the same way you loved your son and consider it a nightmare instead.

But of all times you've dreamt of her, this time you woke up from it with the only person you wanted comfort from, still sleeping next to you. And for the first time since you could remember, it was not your mother.

Your eyes remained on your phone screen, hung up on every word of the message. Glancing once at your boyfriend, you turn back to your phone to switch it off before you move to lay back under the covers.

---

It was 8 days before Christmas. Watching snow fall from the sky was somehow more magical than getting to sit on a first class plane for the first time

You tried to take pictures from above, but the snow didn't look as clear and visible through the phone as it did from your eyes.

You're hands are fully gloved, with your little bunny designed ear muffs that Jace bought for you a few days ago.

"I feel like that thing from Big Hero 6." You told him before leaving. "His name is Baymax, put some respect on it." Was his response before he pinched your cheeks with both hands.

4 hours later, the two of you are strapped in comfortable seats, the cold getting stronger, and you're both grateful for the winter jackets you had on.

"It's so beautiful." You spoke, looking out from the small window. "Yeah, beautiful." When you twisted your neck to look at him, he was already staring at you. "What?" You asked. He shrugged, face blank. "Nothing."

Neither of you broke eye contact. Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what has trying to tell you. He blinked. You were gonna ask what again until it hit you. "Jace, no."

"I didn't even say anything." He whined, defending himself. "We're not having sex on a plane." "See, I didn't even have to say it, you were just thinking the same thing." You fought the urge to roll your eyes, cocking your head to the side, baffled at his suggestion.

"Do you know how many germs there are on this plane?" He shrugged again. "It's first class." You throw your hands up in frustration. "It's times like these that I remember you're a jock." He should've been offended, but he was still confused about what you mean.

"This place is full of germs, it's not even advisable to wash your face or do skin care on a plane because that's how dirty the air is." You patiently explained, watching him get more confused. "But we're not doing skincare, we're doing each other." You turned away, groaning loudly with your eyes closed.

"You're so boring." He complained like a child. "I'm also gonna snitch on your mom if you don't get your shit together." He snorted at that, pulling out his headphones out of his small slingbag. "She won't believe you, I'm her baby." "Yeah, you are a baby."

His head snapped at you immediately, before he could come up with a smart response that probably would have to do something to do with his penis, You pushed his head back to the other side, patting his cheeks like you would a toddler and quickly put on your headphones.

He turned around again and said something, but at that point you already turned up the volume. "Sorry, I can't hear you baby." He stuck his tongue out in annoyance. You thought you heard him mutter 'baymax looking ass' but didn't react as you didn't want him to think he won.

The flight was 2 and a half hours long. You were sure you could stay awake for that amount of time, but once the flight attendant brought out the heated blanket, the both of you were down in 5 minutes.

The pilot said something through the comm that you were too sleepy to hear once the plane had finally reached the destination. You wiped your eyes with the back of your fists groggily and began shaking Jace to wake up while yawning.

The first nudge did nothing, you started tapping him on the shoulder, which by the 6th tap, you finally got a response; "5 more minutes please."

Only when you leaned closer into his ears and blew air into it does he jolt up, eyes wincing. "That tickles." He murmured, wiping his hand over his tired face. "We're about to land." You informed him, taking your headphones off and passing it to him to keep in his bag. "Okay."

You were honestly eager to get your cramped ass out of the plane, but as you refresh yourself with bottled water, the realization dawned upon you. His mother, or father, would be waiting at the airport.

The comm dinged again as the pilot announced landing. The flight attendants were all quick to get to their seat once a loud zooming noise startled everyone. "There we go." You mumbled under your breath.

He helped you up once you were able to take the seat belt off. Jace slings his bag over his shoulder and uses his right hand to carry your extra duffle bag, his left hand intertwined with yours, helping you descend down the stairs before him.

"Let me hold it." You offered, but he shook his head no. "If my mom or dad saw me making you carry anything they'll strangle me." He sounded serious so you let him penguin walk with your hands still holding his, making your way over the baggage section.

"Are you excited." He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Over the moon." You answered with a tight smile. If he noticed the sarcasm, he didn't comment on it. "Good, I promise this will be your best Christmas yet." He sounded so convincing that it made you smile against your will.

"It's literally my first Christmas, so I don't think there'll be any competition yet, Jace." "Exactly." You laughed quietly, letting him take the lead as you walked through the crowded space of the airport. Once you got on the elevator, you were going to ask him if he could see his parents from here, but he cut you to it by shouting loudly and waving both your hands up in the air. "We're here!"

Jesus fuck, you thought. If you were anywhere else, you would've immediately pulled his arm down, what with everyone around you glaring at him. But his parents were watching, and you saw his parents wave back excitedly, thankfully neither were yelling back.

The first observation you make as you begin to near them was how much he looked like his father. His mother looked exquisitely different than him. She was beautiful, with platinum blonde hair tied in a bun, her eyes smiled every time her lips did. You found yourself with a small smile, beaming at their joy as his mother started walking towards you both. I don't think I've ever seen anyone's parents this happy to have their child back home.

"Finally." You hear his mother sigh out as she pulls Jacaerys in a hug. She was quick to pull away so she could get a good look at his face. "Look at you, exactly the same." He rolls his eyes. "It's been like 6 months." She ignored his wit and pushed him aside to take you in. You didn't have the time to extend a hand as she pulls you in an embrace too. You yelped at first but hugged her back easily and smiled at her.

"So this is the sweetheart Jace has been keeping from me?" She joked, holding the side of your face with her palms. "I think I should be the one saying that." You didn't know why you said that, but it made her laugh heartily, only after you said it did you realize that it sounded like you were flirting with your boyfriend's mom.

From the corner of your eyes you could see Jace walking over to you with his father. "Have you eaten yet? You must be famished."

L That's another thing you noticed about his family. They use words like famished. The way his mother spoke sounded regal, you could even say royalty.

"Oh it's fine, I've already had some cheesecake on the plane." Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, seeing that her frown deepens. "Oh, that's barely lunch, and it's almost tea time too."

You thought tea time was a myth honestly, something British people made up to sound funny, like the monarchy. As far as you can remember, you grew up only eating one full meal a day at home. Your mother would buy you nothing else and asked if you were really that hungry, you'd assert another white lie and tell her that you really can't eat too much anyways and that your appetite is small.

As you grew older, your appetite did grow smaller, but it ended up making you feel guilty every time you wanted to eat more than once a day, as you would feel like you don't deserve it.

"It's fine, we've cooked up a nice meal back home, once you get yourself cleaned up, we can all eat together." She was incredibly soft spoken, and she looked at you in a very motherly manner. Your thank you was cut off as you hear her husband called out. "Rhaenyra-'' he appears by her side, smiling widely at you, his features remarkably similar to his son. "There you are, the prettiest girl he's ever seen, eh?" He winked at Jace, making him stutter, turning red. "Dad please-" He ignores him just like Rhaenyra did before.

"Well how do you do?" You shook hands with his father, introducing yourself. At least this time you didn't say anything that sounds like you're trying to seduce Jace's father.

Once the formalities was over, his father helped pick up the baggage that finally arrived, they have a large range rover, more than enough to fit 2 weeks worth of clothes. Jace was going to sit in the back with you, but his mother wacked him in the head and told him to sit up front. "You can't bring your girlfriend over and then hoggle her for yourself." She warned him as climbed up the back seat after you.

You're not sure if the reason you're absolutely terrified to look at Rhaenyra was because she doesn't look like a mother of 3 or because you wanted to impress her. But you tried your best to appear calm as her husband started driving. “Have you eaten anything yet sweetheart?” He asks from the front, equally as sweet as his wife.

“Uh, I had a cheesecake-” “Oh a cheesecake? For the whole day? That's not good, Jace, why didn't you buy her anything.” He scolded his son.

“She didn't want anything else-” “That can't be true, you little pig, you can't eat so much and then starve your girlfriend!”

“I'm really fine.” Your assurance wasn't acknowledged as his mother joined in. “That's right, you're lucky we cooked something up.” “She had a cheesecake-” Jace attempts to defend himself, which only made his father snort. “You know how plane foods are, they’re tiny!” You nodded in agreement, quietly whispering, “Yeah they are.” Which earned you a glare from Jace. He did try to get you to eat more, but like he said, you weren't interested. “Already teaming up against me.” He mumbled in annoyance.

The whole car ride home was peaceful. They continued to make small talk with you, asking if you've ever went skiing before, apparently it's something they did every Christmas. “Don't worry, it's quite easy, Jace could teach you when we go together.” Rhaenyra said to you later.

“Does your parents know you're here? We don't want to steal you away from them for your sem break.” Rhaenyra asked apologetically. Why did everyone care so much about whether your parents knew or not? “Oh yeah, they don't mind.” The lie came on so naturally that you forgotten about Jace being told the opposite. He snuck a glance at you but it was too quick that you didn't manage to catch his reaction. ”Good, good.” Rhaenyra concluded, relieved to hear it.

The car pulls up into a guarded neighborhood. You weren't surprised to see that most of the houses inside are mansions, perfected with their own large car porches and a garden. And you weren't surprised to see the house they finally reached in the end was as equally large as the others. The outside walls were gray and cream coloured, you could seentwo different entrances from the side and from the front by the porch.

“Home sweet home.” Jace spoke from his seat. If your house looked like that than it'd be a sweet home too.

—-

It wasn't a bad dream that jolted you awake tonight. But rather the jarring change of surrounding that you weren't used to. Jace lays on his side, an arm lazily hung over your waist. It was his snoring that pulled you out if your confusion. The white and large curtains covering the see through doors of the balcony looked unfamiliar because they aren't yours, they're Jace's.

And the reason why the floor felt so cold once you placed both your feet on the ground after you've gently push his hands off to climb off the bed was because it's made of marble, not concrete like you were used to.

Slipping into the bathroom quietly and turning on the sink tap, the brutal coldness of the water made you wince. You let your fingers familiarize with the feeling before wiping it over your dull face.

It was 2am, the clock hung on the walls of the dimly lit room read. A dreaded and fatigued part of you wanted to get back to bed, but there was a restlessness growing inside of your bones. Today is the third day that you've been here, 6 days until Christmas. You had spent the past few days helping Rhaenyra bake gingerbread cookies and joined in snowball fights with Jace and his siblings.

Your boyfriend definitely had more fun than his younger brothers. How fun it was to be able to chuck 7 snowballs in a row at his girlfriend's face before she starts chasing him into the snowflake covered woods threatening to dropkick him.

You thought things have been going pretty well so far. At first you had worried that your quiet personality would somehow make things awkward, but you seemed to have fit in rather easily with them.

You weren't shy or anything, just more reserved than most. And not that you'd ever tell Jace to his face, but Joffrey probably was your favourite. He was the youngest and the cutest. At first he had completely ignored you on the first night that you arrived, but the next day during breakfast he showingly changed his mind for his dislike or indifference for you by making Jace switch places with him to sit by your left.

It was announced on that very same day that you are to be his favourite person in that house too.

The door made a small creaking noise as you opened it to leave. Walking down the dark corridor that led downstairs, you walked yourself to the kitchen, looking for something to drink. Help yourself to the fridge, Rhaenyra had told you 2 days ago. Well, don't mind if I do.

The fridge light shone over your face like the glow of heaven as you bend down to see your choices. They had cranberry juice, which wasn't exactly your favourite, but it was better than orange juice which was another thing they had. There's bar of chocolate you're tempted to steal, but you have a feeling it's not yours to take.

Just as your hand extends to grab at the cranberry juice, the kitchen lights flicker open, making you flinch so hard that you accidentally banged your head on the upper part of the fridge. "Ow."

"Oh it's just you." Rhaenyra's voice laughed out. Pulling your head out like a snack thief, you smiled sheepishly at her.

"Sorry, was gonna grab a drink." She shook her head and head over to the kitchen sink, washing her hands. "It's fine, I thought you were Joffrey, he likes to steal his brother's chocolate bars." Well that's something the two of you have in common.

"What are you drinking?" She asks turning to look at you. "Just cranberry juice." She hummed in disagreement, shaking her head. "In this cold season? Take a seat, I'll make some tea." You have never jumped so quickly to interject anyone. "Oh no, It's fine! Really, it's 2am, I should probably get back to sleep anyways.".

She seems to take light of your argument, already pulling out a teapot and a small Camomile teabag. "Oh it's no bother, if you weren't craving anything then you wouldn't be awake rummaging through the fridge anyways." You stood awkwardly by the closed fridge watching her add hot water into the pot. "Fetch me the sugar will you?" You moved quickly to pull out the tub of sugar from one of the kitchen cabinets, passing it to her.

"So, what's keeping you up at night?" You shrugged lightly, leaning against the kitchen counter as you didn't want to sit and wait at the table like a brat. "Nothing really, I'm insomniac, so..." Her eyes widened momentarily. "Oh really?" You nodded.

"Mmhm, I take medication for it, but sometimes it doesn't work." She reacts with a string of Ooohs, stirring inside the pot with a long spoon.

"Melatonin?" You nodded again. That, and some anti psychotics.

Once she's finally done with the tea, you sat by her as she poured it into two mugs for the both of you. It was odd that she was up for small talk this late in the night, but you enjoyed conversing with her. "You know I don't think I've ever asked you what major you are, and that silly boy has never told me." "I'm an art major." You answered. She smiled so dotingly at the response, sincerely intrigued. "An art major? You can draw then?" You hummed positively. "Draw, paint a little."

She sips her hot tea patiently. "I'm a fan of art myself, have you heard of Egon Schiele?" You laughed breathily. "Of course, who doesn't?" Rhaenyra tipped her head to the side in a small nod of agreement. "I have some of his paintings on my office, his works had been a favourite. Quite an expressive man isn't he?" You considered the man's work with his personal life. "Not exactly a role model but yeah, he is."

Your tea is finished, but you remain unmoved on the chair, waiting for her to continue. "You know I believe that the arts is the heart of humanity. Some people might not agree, people who can't see beyond the techniques and brush strokes, but art is what happen when you try to make beauty out of pain, isn't it? I mean as stereotypical as it sounds."

Your eyes were no longer droopy from sleepiness, they match the pure intensity Rhaenyra's had. "It is. Without art, and I don't mean just paintings- I mean poetry and literature and theatre, pain would just be pain. Meaningless." "Exactly."

You don't know what the silent words being exchanged through your gazes actually meant, but something did cross between the two of you, an understanding of a sort, an alliance in beliefs.

"I also believe that those who dabble in art, in any mediums, are the ones who love the strongest and lose the hardest." An unintentional smile bloomed over your face. "Tell me about it." Rhaenyra laughs lightly. "Have you always dabbled in art?" She questioned.

You relive blurry memories of badly drawn trees and stick humans done when you were a child. "Sure, yeah. I've always liked it. I mean it's not just this magical talent I have or anything, as much as the arts is viewed in a much bigger scale of its effects to society as a whole, it's could also be deemed important in indivual intepretation."

Rhaenyra leans back against her chair, hands placed on her lap politely. "Like for example- art is intimate because it is yours.

- It doesn't have to have a deeper meaning all the time and neither does it have to emotionally strike you for it to be considered art. To love, some people say, is to be understood. But we can never truly understand anyone, no matter how hard we think we can.

-And so I think that art, just like people, can be loved even without context. Whatever feeling it sparks inside of you, it is intimate because it is complicated, and it is intimate because it can mean a hundred different things to a hundred different people."

Her expression was unreadable. You wondered if you have confused or overwhelmed her. But after a few minutes of silence, she asked; "And what about people?" "What about it?"

"You compared it to art, and you said art needn't be understood to be loved, does the same goes for people?" You clasped your cold hands on the warm mug and pursed your lips together, your thoughts racing each other.

"Yeah, it does. I mean I use to think that being with a person who understood you was the most important thing in the world, and though it does feel good to finally be seen by someone else, like I said before, it is nearly impossible to be truly understood. And so, the second best thing would be to be loved despite not being understood. To have someone who believes in you, even if they're not sure about the situation or the facts or your rationality, that is love. To be believed in."

"Faith?" Rhaenyra suggests. "Yes, faith."

You stood up right after, taking her empty cup to wash for too despite her complaints, hand washing them as you're not sure how to use a dishwasher. "I'm glad you're here." Rhaenyra spoke from behind you. It wasn’t the validation that had struck you so deeply in the chest, nor was it her appreciation for you, instead, ot was her acceptance. "I'm glad I'm here too."

In this small moment between 2 to 3am on a Thursday at your boyfriend's kitchen, you wonder if you've found the right kind of people to call home.

"Thanks for the tea, I hope I didn't keep you up." You thanked her in a hushed voice, genuinely grateful. She returned your smile and squeezed your shoulder softly. "You did no such thing, now go get some sleep, alright?"

When you returned to Jace's room, you find him sitting up on the bed in the dark. You closed the door behind you slowly and tiptoed towards him.

"Where'd you go?" He asks sleepily, pulling you close to his chest as he moves to lie back down. "Went to get a drink." You whispered back. "For 20 minutes?" You snorted and lifted your head up to kiss him on the cheek before placing your head back under his chin. "Your mother couldn't sleep either, she made tea."

Jace accepted the response, asking no more questions. His arms wrap around your body the way a ship holds on to an anchor. You didn't know how much you needed someone to need you until you met him.

You notice that he's still awake, with the way his finger is lightly tapping the skin of your shoulder. "Did I wake you up? Sorry." You feel him shaking his head slightly. "No, I was just thinking." He mumbled back. "About?" You inquired him.

"You, I miss you." You frowned and pulled back to look at him. "I'm right here." He shrugged. "I know, but sometimes you're not. Sometimes you're here but when I look at you, you're gone. And I don't know how to bring you back." You feel a splinter in your heart when he said that. How foolish you are to expect him to be so stupid to never notice how unstable you can be at times, how easily you dissociate and push him away before pulling him right back.

"I'm sorry." You told him sincerely, not sure what else there is that could be said.

"I'm not angry, or upset. I just want you to know that Im right here with you too, and I'm not going anywhere." You smiled sadly at him and nodded. "I know." Your noses booped together and he returns your small smile. "Anything you need me for, I'm here." Jacaerys assures you, half yawning. "I just need you to trust me, and I'll trust you. Can you do that for me?" He stared silently for a moment and then nodded once. "Okay, I trust you. But you have to honor your end."

You pecked his lips with one hand caressing his cheek. "I trust you." You promised.

—

It was 3 days before Christmas. You've spent the past week skiing and building a snowman with the kids. These past few days have been so suspiciously peaceful that it's terrifying.

You're on edge, despite the happiness this family has brought you. You like to tell yourself that you're just being careful, but the truth is that sometimes you can't tell the difference between a house fire and a small candle.

You had texted your mother 2 days ago, confessing to her that you've been spending this week with your boyfriend's family. You made sure to keep your lie about your job going, stating that this visit was a last minute kind of thing. She never answered.

She shouldn't be bothered, you soothed yourself. She never cared if you ever actually came home or not, why should this be an exception?

You and Jacaerys have spent the day going from shop to shop, eyeing beautiful Christmas lights and discounts available. You started with a bakery in the morning, Rhaenyra's suggestion. You had gotten free tastings on many of the popular cake choices before Jace finally settled on buying his mother's favourite Lemon cake.

He had urged you to pick something for yourself and you landed on some éclairs, finishing them up on the car ride to the antique gift shop a few blocks further.

The store had a giant nutcracker statue staring out from inside the windows, they reminded you of the old Christmas movies you spent watching as a child. The bell on the door jiggled loudly as you entered after Jace, a longing gaze towards the nutcracker, hints of nostalgia filling up your heart.

An elderly lady guarded the counter with a smile. "Looking for anything in particular?" She asks. Jace shook his head and smiled back. "Just looking around." He soon found himself crouching down at the snow globe sections, pulling a few out of the shelves to eye the intricate details.

You had walked to the candle shelves, admiring the colourful choices. There was another nostalgic thing on candles too. A superstitious kind. The way you used to blow on them for every birthday or random nights you remembered to lit up your rose scented candles that stays on your bedside, wishing on them like you do on a shooting star.

Asking for some kind of mercy from whichever god there was looking down at you. But in the end you had to pull yourself up without any kind of divine intervention. You had learned that there was only one god inside of you, and she was a girl fed on rage and grievance who spent her nights weeping in her empty altar.

The girl was still there, quieter now, but unflickering, unlike a candle.

You eye the red coloured candle gently, sniffing on the wax to identify the scent. Rose. You place it back on the shelf and move on to the cutlery sets.

You loved cutlery, plates and mugs. Maybe it's the 20s getting to you, but some days you feel that the house decoration section of IKEA was better than any night club you've been in. A beautiful chipped cup stared at you from the lower shelves. It was beautiful, purple flowers drawn on the curves and long thing green ropes on the holder.

You were pulling it out to look inside when your phone suddenly dinged multiple times, buzzing in the pocket of your pants. Clumsily, you pushed the cup back in and took your phone out whilst still crouching.

M: Is this some sort of tantrum you're throwing?

the first notification read, making you frown. You don't have the strength to swipe open the screen to read the full sentence, only reading what's shown on your lockscreen. Just before you could click it off after pressing mute, another notification enters, the words too bright, reading themselves aloud to you.

M: you're selfish, do you ever think about anyone else but yourself? It's always how you feel because only yo-

the full message was cut off as another notification enters. Irritation filled you the same time that your eyes pricked with angry tears. You blinked a few times to get rid of it as you shove your muted phone back in your pants.

I can't fucking deal with this right now. You told yourself. Your phone buzzed again, making you harshly take it back out to turn off the vibration.

It always has t be a problem with her. Selfish she called you? On the one time you decided to do something fo yourself?

Pulling yourself up to stand your kneed are met with the cup that's still half out from it's shelf, shoving it behind strongly, a small crash sound turned your whole body into stone.

You bend back down immediately, pulling out the chipped mug and the small broken pieces of it's corners. You could hear the owner getting up. Shit shit shit. "What was that sweetie?"

You turned to her with a saddened expression. "I'm so sorry, I'll pay for it-" the woman's eyes moved from your face to the glass pieces and gasped. "Oh my, wait here- I'll get the broom." As soon as she disappeared to the store room, Jacaerys was by your side in the next second. "What happened?" He bends down.

"It was an accident, I smashed it with my knee." Your voice was shaky and you feel your fingers prick as you try to sweep the pieces onto your left palm before the lady returned. "Baby, put it back, she's bringing the broom." He warned you. You shook your head lightly and kept picking up the tiny sharp ones. "It's fine, I got it-" Jace grabbed your hand and turned it upside down so they fall back on the ground.

"Jace what the fuck is wrong with you." You snapped, pulling your hand back. Your voice was high, close to yelling. "Your hand is fucking bleeding, there's literal cuts." He argued back, trying and failing to grab at your wounded hand.

The store room door opened loudly, the both of you turned to see the lady walking over quickly with a small broom. "Move aside you two." She ordered calmly.

"I can do it for you, it was my fault." You offered her, ignoring how Jace is trying to pull you back. "Oh no, it's fine sweetie, it happens all the time." You opened your mouth to ask again, desperate to try and fix the mess you made, but you could feel Jace's grip on your arm tightening and stayed silent.

"I didn't mean to." You whispered. His grip loosens, his hand moved from your arm to your shoulder. "It's fine, I'll pay for it." He immediately widened his eyes to warn you to keep quiet, knowing you'd argue against it. "Let me pay for it now, we'll discuss this later." He muttered closely to you. Your lips pursed together, not wanting to say or do anything you can't take back, you shush up.

There is large wave of emotion building up inside of you. It was overwhelming because it's not just one emotion. As the anger dissolves into pathetic guilt, you bite your lip from bursting out crying. Blinking fastly for a few more times, you managed to keep your breakdown from blowing up.

Standing by the door like a rock, you watch as Jace pulls out his purse to pay for the damage. You can see the lady shaking her head, denying his money. "It's old, not worth anything." You hear her say to him.

He ended up buying a tint snow globe and aa keychain anyways, to make up for the broken cup. She seemed to hold no grudge in her expression, smiling at the two of you and saving as you left.

Neither of you said anything on the walk to the car. Once you got in and strapped on the seatbelt, you twisted your face to him to see if he was upset and noticed that he was frowning. He hands you the small plastic gift, looking straight up front. A small sigh leaves him after he turns up the AC. the car engine noise filling up the tension between you.

"It was an accident." You repeated. He finally turns to you, with a look much worse than rage. Disappointment, pity. "I know." He responds softly. "I was just trying to clean it up, I felt bad." He nodded quietly, slowly averting his gaze to the steering wheel.

More silence filled the gap. When he finally steps on the pedal to reverse out of the parking, you turned away to look out the window in resolve. Nothing was said throughout the whole ride home.

Rhaenyra was excited to have you both home by evening. Her husband was quickly chastised for taking the first bite off of her cake. The sight was both amusing and endearing. You would've smiled in another scenario.

Jace talked and moved like nothing happened, offering for you to take a shower first before him, helping his mother with the dishes as the children are scolded for running around the kitchen. "Go to your room." Jace forced them with a kind of authority that you rarely see in him.

You watch the kids run up pass you, saying hi to you before they disappeared to their rooms.

Going for a shower yourself, you found solace in the privacy that his bathroom gave you. Letting the hot water run down your body along with your tears, you couldn't tell the difference between whicb and which.

Your face and eyes was red by the time you were done, the hot water obviously helped with that. But the warmth after cold skin biting walks was calming, even with the overthinking that came with today's events, the shower helped to bring down the temperature of your emotions.

Washing your face with cold water from the sink next, you avoid looking in the mirror. Shame erupted inside your chest, like a child scorned and embarrassed by their own behaviour.

You could hear Jace walk in the room from the bathroom. The door makes a sound as it's shut close. Letting your hair down for the first time today, you combed the wild strands with your fingers, lightly massaging your head as you brave yourself to face him again.

You didn't do anything wrong, why are you so scared?

You push the door open and dry your feet on the carpet outside of it. Jace was sitting on his bed, shirtless and charging his phone by the bedside.

He gives you a glance when be hears your footsteps and then turns back away like it's nothing. You're as watchful as him as you begin to dress yourself, sliding a green long-sleeved shirt over your head. You'd layer a cardigan over it later, but for now you're craving the chill after your hot shower.

He gets up to place his snow globe on his dressing table and hooked the small heart shaped keychain on his laptop bag. You sat yourself on the bed, feeling it dip and watching him still.

He turns on the small light on the front of his room after he's done closing all the curtains, and then you watch him take his trousers off before taking down his towel from the coat hanger and enter the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Hearing the sound if water begin falling from where he's in, you let your shoulder relax, a tired sigh escapes you.

You leaned back against the pillows and closed your eyes for a moment, letting the world around you turn dark.

—

The first time Jacaerys had slept over in your apartment was the first time he ever knew you were on multiple medication. It was the first time the two of you ever had sex, and he had passed out easily after. You, despite being tired, found yourself kept awake by your thoughts.

You can't remember what exactly kept you up but it was 2 hours in when he was startled awake by your shuffling around.

You had spent the last hours contemplating if you should grab a pill to help fall asleep or if it was too late and the pill would cause you to sleep in on tomorrow morning's class. And so the indecisiveness resulted in you trying your best and failing to fall asleep naturally. He looked up at you groggily and frowned.

"How you been awake the whole time?" He asked. You sighed tiredly and laid on your back.

"Yeah, sorry, did I wake you?" He shook his head and wiped a hand over his face. "You didn't, it's fine. I just thought you'd be down easy after all that."

You snorted and shook your head. "I'm insomniac."

"Oh." You nodded. "Yeah I have meds for it, but sometimes the pills all just clash together and it doesn't really work." He hummed in understanding. You noticed he doesn't ask more about the pills. It was either he didn't care or he was being respectful. You learned weeks in later that it was the latter. Unsurprisingly.

"Well, what do you do when you can't sleep?" You shrugged your shoulders. "Dunno. Watch stuff on my phone."

"What do you usually watch?" He asks, characteristically interested. "Gay sex." His head jolted forward and his eyes immediately widened. "I'm joking."

His shock immediately watered down as he gave you a faint laugh in response. "Right, of course."

You spent the rest of the night talking to him until your body gave in and you collapsed around his arm around dawn.

It's not an easy thing to forget, a man's first show of affection in small subliminal ways that some people might not notice. But you did, you always do.

That was not the last time you'd see him sacrifice his own comfort to make you feel less lonely than you already were. In a room full of people, colleagues, friends and family, you found that only he had the power to make you feel seen.

Other people looked at you and saw what you let them see. But Jacaerys was willing to pay much more attention to the things other people didn't want to. Your condition, whatever it's called (most people call it complicated), often made people uncomfortable. How is it a person like you could be so non chalant yet care so much at the same time. How was it you were reserved, but not shy or accepting of anyone's attempts to step over you?

They can't quite understand the complexity of being a damaged person that still tries their best to undo those damages on a daily. Niceties didn't always equal empathy. You learned that very early on in your life. To find someone who wouldn’t try to fix the hard parts of your self or resent you for them wasn't easy.

Most men, that you knew of, will either try to "fix" you in an attempt to make themselves feel heroic. Like a savior. And when they realise too far in that those scars you bared was unreversable, they use it againts you instead. They paint you out to be the bad guy for those same traits they promised and vowed to be so understanding of.

And for almost the only time ever in your life that night, you didn't feel like your secrets were owed to anyone. A safe space was a place you knew you could be vulnerable with, but t was also supposed to be a place where you knew you could still be caution with all your walls up and still wouldn't be judged for it.

It was him who stayed through the cold shoulders and unanswered questions. And so, it was also him who you then trusted your whole heart with.

---

You were woken up 30 minutes before dinner time. Feeling the soft nudge Jacaerys gave you, shaking you awake easily. His hand lingered on your shoulder until you were sitting up fully. You thanked him and went up to the bathroom to wash your face.

"Mom's making lasagna tonight." He says ftom outside the bathroom door. He no longer referred to Rhaenyra as 'my mom', including you as part of the family without any awkwardness.

"I love lasagna." You called back. "I know."

The cold sink water have been getting warmer and warmer as the snow outside begins to melt. The weather was still antagonizing, but driving through the wet road was easier now, and morning showers are less dreadful.

"You know, we don't really get snow back home." You quipped as you turn off the sink, making your way out. "Really?" He asked, genuinely astonished.

"Yeah, it's a much warmer climate where I'm from." He was putting on a sweater by his mirror when you came out, his eyes met yours through the reflection. "So, you've never built a snowman before?".

You smiled and nodded, walking over to the bed. "Nope, the one we did the other day was my first time." Snowman building and snowball fights were fun, though you wouldn’t admit to your boyfriend that you much preferred staying inside with the heater on as you munch on some cookies and hot chocolate.

You were layering moisturiser over your face when you hear Jace speak, "I forgot to tell you, your mom called on your phone while you were sleeping." You froze for a second before your hands resumed massaging your face with the product.

"Oh, did you talk to her?" You asked, giving him a quick glance. Jacaerys shook his head and you felt relief spread through your whole body.

He sat by your side, watching you do your skincare routine meticulously. "I muted it, but you should probably call her back, it was two misscalls." You hummed uncaringly, as if it was the least important thing in the world, not wanting to give out a suspicious reaction.

The truth was you did not have the guts to check your messages at all since you came back from the shopping trip. You had her on mute and that had helped calm your nerves. But knowing that she had went as far as calling you twice, which believe it or not, is the first time you've ever had that much attention from her, was anxiety inducing.

"I'll call her later." You stated, noticing him still staring at you from the corner of your eyes. "Why did you say that she already knew you were here when we first arrived at the airport?" He asks suddenly.

There weren't any direct correlations of this question to the current situation, but it was unsurprising that he had brought this up. In fact, you have been waiting for him to do so.

"I did tell them." You answer bluntly. "You told me a few days before that you didn't want to." You closed the cap of your face serum and stashed it back inside your small bag, taking yout time with the conversation.

"I changed my mind. I was telling the truth when I said I didn't want to tell them at first, but I figured they should know. In case of emergencies." He was content with the answer, making no more inquiries.

Dinner was quick and quiet. You helped cut the marble cake Rhaenyra had made into small square shapes before its passed around to the whole table after prayers were spoken together.

There were no leftovers of it or the lasagna by the time it was over. You could tell that the older woman was overjoyed. She was someone who put all of her love and effort into everything that she does for her family, and watching her children appreciate the hard work of a mess she made in the kitchen must've felt rewarding.

You helped her with the dishes until everyone else except Jace had left. She argued against it at first, insisting that you were a guest and shouldn't have to do anything. But you refused to leave until the kitchen was clean, so she had you sweep crumbs and pieces out of the carpet while Jace was to take out the trash.

"It's good to have another woman here." She said to you as she stacks up the dry plates back to the shelves.

Throwing out the collected trash into the dustbin, you offered her a small laugh. "I'm glad you feel so."

You went up first after the cleaning was done, leaving Jacaerys with his mother, discussing the Christmas tree arrangements.

The medium sized plastic tree they had ordered last week finally arrived, and it was up to him to fix it up on their livingroom by the end of today.

You considered your gift for his family that you had handmade a few days before you flew here. It would've been easier to buy something, but buying them all an individual gift would be costly, and Jacaerys himself have warned you against that, deeming it unnecessary.

And so your ivory and indigo themed painting of Daisies and Forget Me Not's would be enough.

It was an image that you had longed to paint for a long time, two contrasting coloured flowers tangled together. But with all the assignments and homework that your degree was already requesting of you, there hadn't be any time for you to make it up until the week before you an Jace left.

It wasn't your best work, but it was your favourite. The subtlety that tied together on the canvas satisfied you.

Jace came up shortly after you had. Mumbling something about the decorations looking shitty. Ignoring the fact that you were reading on the bed, jumped on it suddenly, making you bounce up. "Hello?" You snapped, waving your book.

He raised his brows innocently, laying down on the pillows. "All you do is read and paint." He whined. "I like reading and painting."

He poked your right thigh with his toes making you pause reading to slap his feet as a warning. "Get a hobby." You could feel his eye roll from behind you. "Loving you is my hobby."

You kept your eyes on the book as you responded, "how lifeless you must be." Your book is snatched from your hand right after your sentence is finished. "Give it back you gorilla." You twist yourself towards him, trying to reach for the book as he held it up over your head.

"No, this thing has taken over my place as the center of your attention." You let out a loud hah! Pushing him down against the bed and pried the book from his cold hands as he kept his grip on it.

"Bold of you to assume you were ever the center of my attention." He gasped and you took the opportunity to grab the book while his hand loosens.

"How can I not be the center of your attention? Look at me." He spoke seriously.

The book was safely placed by your side, but now he's grabbing you over him instead. "You know I only agreed to date you just in case I'd need to apply for a green card." You gritted out as he squeezes your face against his cheek. Jacaerys' facade of being offended broke and he threw his head back in a boisterous laugh, letting you slip away from him

Shoving him strongly while he's still choking on laughter, he fell off the bed with an oof and landed face down, drawing out a laugh from you instead.

Pulling himself back up, he squints his eyes and glared at you. "You're so boring."

What he views as boring is your kind of fun and that was just how it is. "What do you want us to do instead? Have a slumber party?" He tilt his face, genuine considering it. You cut him off before he could agree. "No- We're not doing that, because I know your definition of slumber party."

"I thought you liked my definition of a slumber party." He asks, laying his head on your lap and letting you get your few pages in for the night. "We're at your parent's house, I don't think they'd like your definition of a slumber party." He hummed and said nothing else, closing his eyes as he stays against your thighs.

You suspected it was either the white wine or the sugar rush of the three squares if marble cake that he had tonight that was making him slightly more hyper. Whatever it was, it's refraining him from being able to just sit his ass down. You once asked him if he had ADHD during your first month of dating, he vaguely answers 'probably' and started talking about something else right after.

Speedreading the last 3 pages of the chapter you're in, you thought he had fallen asleep until he turned around so he would face up to you. "Do you want to go see the Christmas lights?"

You barely heard what he said at first, trying to finish reading the last sentence of the page. "Huh?" He repeated what he said again, waiting for you to close your book and meet his eyes.

When you finally do, you looked down at him with skepticism. "Right now?" He nodded. It was around 8.30, not that late, but also pretty early. You tossed and turned the suggestion in your head until you finally just shrugged at him. "Are they really that pretty?"

"This street is full of mansions wrapped with gigantic traffic lights coloured decorations. Pretty sure the Millers have a gigantic Elf statue outside their gate." You blinked in surprise. "That's...festive."

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, rich people stuff."

You'd counter back that he was rich too, but there aren't any weird Santa statues in this house yet, so you say nothing. "We don't have to see the ones around this neighbourhood, I know the street stalls are gonna be lit up all around tonight, We could drive around, grab a burger or something."

You were still full from the lasagna, but a burger sounded appealing. You had grown up around street foods and cheap oily burgers and fries from stalls by your house. The taste was always better than whatever clean expensive food you've ever had in your life. You were eager to get out of this place suddenly.

"Okay, sure. Let me finish one more chapter and we can go." Jacaerys cheered, fist bumping the air before he rolled off of you to go change into something thicker.

It ended up being an hour later when you were finally done with the book, managing to convince your dressed up boyfriend on his reindeer sweater that it's much too early still.

To make up for your lack of priority for the time, you were punished to wear a matching red sweater like his. Putting it on with a grumble and frown, he had no idea that you secretly liked the sweater but would rather die than confess it aloud.

You let him get downstairs first to inform his mother of your plans. He was already starting the car engine when you got down, his parents and young Joffrey were all settled on the couch, watching Bluey.

Rhaenyra smiled as you walked by. You waved at her as you're about to walk out and hear her call out to her son. "Be back before 11, or I'll lock you both out!"

"Yeah, yeah." Jace yelled back and closes the door.

You hopped on the passenger seat of his Range Rover with ease and put on the seatbelt while he starts to reverse the car out of parking.

"So, where first?" You ask.

"We could start with stalking our neighbour's houses and then go on a drive down the street- or, we could go down the street first and then stalk our neighbours." You don't miss the way he referred to his neighbours as ours. "I think we should stalk the weird elf dude first, we'll probably be starving again by the time that's done, and then we can go straight to the shops and get a burger."

"Oh wow, you had this all planned out didn't you?" He sounded amused.

"Well, better safe than sorry." He wore a puzzled expression at your words but did not ask for clarification.

The house with the 5'4 elf wasn't that far away from his, and true his words were, the elf did exist by the large gates.

It had a green pointy hat on and wore a red vest with blue buttons.

"The Italian flag?" You whispered out in confusion, watching through the binoculars Jace had stolen from his younger brother. "I think...that's the Christmas colours, not the Italian flag." He whispered back, taking the binoculars from you.

"Oh right, of course." This had to be the first and last time you said something that stupid around him. You had a reputation to keep of being the smart one

What's more terrifying than the large demonic eyes of the elf staring at you was how there were also multiple tiny elves surrounding the big one, like little elf babies with adult elf faces. They crowded around the feet of the big elf, building what seemed like an elf shrine.

"It's like a cult." Jacaerys spoke after a while. You thought the exact same thing.

"Like little cultish elves worshipping their elf messiah." Jace lowered the binocular and snapped his neck towards you. "You think this is legal?"

You frowned at him. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know, i mean it's a bit disturbing isn't it, like, doesn't this count as property damage or something, or least neighbourhood disturbance."

"The only authority figure I could imagine would have a problem with this is Santa Claus for illegal use of elves, besides that, I don't think a statue of Elf on the shelf would count as a distubance at all." He looked uncomfortable at your explanation, and only then did it click in your head.

"Jace, are you scared of the 5'4 static Elf?"

His silence and slow reaction was answer enough. You gasped in realization. "You are!"

"I'm not fucking scared of the Elf." He denied strongly as you leaned against the locked car door in shock. "I'm just...disturbed. It's almost the same height as me."

"You can't blame the elf for your growth problems." He glared at you and started the car on reverse. "That's the worst thing you've ever said to me, worse than the time you compared me to the hunchback of Notre Dame."

You burst out a giggle at the random memory. "Oh my god, the hunchback of Notre Dame!" You recalled the nickname joyfully. "Well, it made you fix your posture. Also you called me Baymax last week, so it cancels out.

Jace drives the car out of the neighbourhood, waving at the security guard who stood by the post to open the gate. Making a turn on his right, he heads straight for the streetshops.

"You called yourself Baymax, I just corrected you." He defends himself.

It took longer than usual to get there, considering that so many other people there had the same idea as them. Jace had to turn on the heater when halfway near the destination, snow began to fall down from lonely starless sky.

It was microscopic and beautiful. You had wanted to reach yout hand out through the window and grabbed one of the flakes on the palm of your hands, but you refrained from doing it

In the back of your head, you can hear the cynical voice of your mother calling your childlike awe a sign of immaturity.

People like you who thinks life is all about dreams and art and poetry are the kind of people who ends up in the street once your hopes have failed you.

You let yourself enjoy the scenery before Jace finally parks the car bynthe side of the road. He helps you get off the ride and locked it securely before intertwining your hands together and heading to the burger stall that's a block away from where you two stood.

"The traffic's gonna be crazy tomorrow." He mutters under his breath, looking up as the snowflakes continue to fall down. "Because of the snow?" You ask anyways, despite knowing the answer.

"That, and because people are going to head back home or wherever they came from for Christmas day." Ah yes, of course.

The holiday that you came here for.

"Well I can't imagine the traffic on the day after Christmas would be any more pleasing." He nods in agreement, scrunching up his nose in displease.

Thank god for their first class flight.

The burger order took less than 5 minutes. You sat down next to him by the door of a closed pawnshop as you ate it all up. The flavor of red chilli sauce and mayo filled you mouth, it felt like a reminiscent of an old memory.

You finished it faster than Jacaerys and stood up to walk over past the streetlamp to take a closer look at the glorious crescent moon that stared back at you from above.

Lifting both your hands up, you use them to cover the blurry glow of the lamp from your sides to let yourself see the moon better. You weren't sure how long you had been standing there just staring at it, but it didn't matter because even after years of knowing the exist of the moon, it's beauty never fail to leave you in awe every time you see it

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone this excited to see the moon." You hear your boyfriend tease from behind you. He must have already finished his burger. "Oh you haven't seen me with the stars yet.".

You could feel him smiling from behind as he places a hand on your shoulder. "Not much of them tonight." He noted. "Yeah, it's like they're all in hiding."

Letting your heart whisper out one last wish on the stunning moon, you turned back towards Jacaerys with pursed lips and raised brows. "Well, where are we going next?" He smiles back. "I think the bookstore up front is doing 20% off."

---

Jacaerys Strong is scared of a lot of thing. He's scared of learning new stuff. He is scared of heights and pests and gigantic sized elfs.

But his biggest fear these past few months is accidentally saying the wrong thing at the wrong time around you.

He realized very early on that when it came to being in a relationship with you, patience was a major key that was necessary. And just because he had succeeded in waiting long enough for you to finally unlock that door, it didn't mean that there were no more locks in the future.

But sometimes he's not sure which room he is in and he can't tell which key is for which. It's not that you're overly complicated, just more confusing than some. There were many times where he felt inclined to listening and studying the way you act instead of tryong to pry details out of you.

Pressuring you into opening up or trying to make whatever you two have go faster would be a recipe for disaster.

There was a discount indeed when you both got to the bookstore. Despite his reputation of being more muscles than brains, Jacaerys liked reading. He wasn't exactly an avid reader before he met you, but he enjoyed reading whatever you recommended him to so that the both of you could talk about it together afterwards.

You spent some time on the Young Adult shelf before moving onto the Classics and New Adult sections while your boyfriend strayed away to the other shelves but still remained close to you. And after 20 minutes of searching about, you finally picked up a copy of The Essex Serpent while Jace bought himself The Crucible.

"I didn't take you for a play kind of guy." You commented as you walk out the store. "I've read a few of them this year actually." He admits as the two of you make way to his car. "Really?" You sounded astonished, he couldn't blame you.

"Yeah, I actually had to read All's well that end's well and Hamlet for my lit class, but i liked them so I decided to read Macbeth too just for fun."

"You can understand Shakespeare?" You ask with a frown. He makes a face at your words. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

"I'm not. I tried Romeo and Juliet in like 11th grade, couldn't understand shit." You explained.

You liked reading and you liked literature, but you weren't good at understanding old english writing. Growing up, it felt like you weren't allowed to indulge in two kinds of hobbies that leaned more towards the artistic side of education. Your mother has always regarded your passion for the arts as a waste of times. I've never met an artists that didn't die suffering. She had told you when you were 13 years old after she had thrown out all of your drawing books because you were getting below B+ on your mathematic and science subjects.

"Did your school not have a literature class?" You shook your head no. "We had normal English for like, grammar, vocabulary, and essays. But we were never taught to read the classics or poetry like a lot of the other public schools."

Jacaerys was a private school boy, so of course his classes were much more detailed and well organized compared to the ones held in public schools.

"That sounds boring." It was boring, when you finally entered college and was able to attend literature class as an elective subject, you found that your passion for the language still burned bright even after years.

The next half an hour was spent driving down the road and looking at the fairy lights hung from streetlamp to streetlamp. A lot of the shops had plastic made snowmans guarding the door of the place.

More snow began heavily filling up the ground, it was getting the people around the place even more excited. You could see parents with their children, and teenagers with their friends running around trying to catch the snowflakes and bending down to investigate the ones that have fallen.

If it weren't for the blistering cold, you'd probably get off the vechicle to join them.

An old toyshop by the end of the road even had these stunning little rudolph the red nosed reindeer figures staring out from inside the shop. Jace suggested going in to check the place out, but you were getting comfortable in your seat, just enjoying the view from inside.

Clenching your toes tightly in an attempt to warm them up, the fuzzy pair of socks you had on were no help. "I think we should just stay inside, used enough money for today."

"Broken enough stuff too." He responds in a joking manner as he pulls over in a singular parking lot behind an empty building.

You feel a something snap in your head as you turned to him. "Are you still mad about that?" He wore a puzzled expression at the question but still kept his eyes on his front despite the car already being parked. "I'm not mad at you, I was just joking." He responds in a weary intonation.

"You don't have to lie to make me feel better." You said calmly. Sometimes people lie as not to offend the other person, but you wanted him to know that he could be honest with you on how be feels. "I know you were at least a little upset, that's why you wouldn't speak to me when we got home."

He turns off the front lights of the car and the engine, and then pulled his seat back slightly, getting more comfortable. When he finally looks at you, it was the kind of look that you have ling deciphered as a stare of commiseration. The kind that you give to starving stray dogs outside your door.

"Don't look at me like that, don't be patronizing." You warned him, leaning your back on the car door. "I'm not patronizing you, I didn't even say anything."

"You're looking at me like you feel bad, don't fucking feel bad. If you're angry at me, then tell me you're angry at me. I'm not a child, I can take it." He opened his mouth to argue against that but closed it just as fast as he opened them.

Glancing to his side like he's searching fir some sort of support, he meets your eyes again after a second, and spoke with much more confidence; "I'm not mad at you, I never was." You fold your arms together, shaking your head.

"Then why were you so silent on the way back- and don't say it's nothing, I know the difference between comfortable silence and awkward silence." He waves his arms in resignation and stutters out as he struggles to really think of a good response.

"Honestly?" You nod once. "I-I just didn't know, how to speak to you."

"What does that mean?" You pushed him to elaborate. "I mean, it's just that in certain times- certain situations, you can get so...vulnerable. Like you're seconds away from breaking. And in times like those, I'm just not sure how to approach or comfort you.

-I mean god knows I was never good with comforting people, but when you get so frustrated and upset, I'm just scared that if I say the wrong things or ask the wrong questions, I'll accidentally hurt you more and push you away from me further."

The pity in his eyes were gone, replaced with worry instead. You take in every words he says with a sharp piercing in your heart. "Oh."

A part of you is relieved to know that he was never really angry. Another part of you despises him for viewing you as something so fragile and pathetic. And then there is a third part of you from the inside, who knew that he was right. You had been compared to a ticking time bomb before, it was not new information.

"I'm sorry I made you think I was mad." He spoke again after a moment of silence. Your eyes strayed from his face to your lap, unable to meet his gaze.

He watches the way your face scrunces up in a thoughtful manner and gently places a hand on your thigh hesitantly. "I don't mean it in a bad way, I'm just, not that good with words sometimes."

Your face is relaxed as you look back up again, acceptant to the things he had said. "I get what you mean." You told him, the aggressiveness from before already melting back into passivity. "I'm sorry too, I know I can be a lot."

His free hand moved to caress the right side of your cheek. "You're not, we're both juat doing what we know as best as we can." You nodded and offered him a half smile.

He pulls you into a hug, the seating arrangement making it a bit hard, but the two of you pulled through. "My mom's angry I'm here." You mumbled into his chest.

Jacaerys' brows knitted together. "Why? She doesn't like me or something?" Be feels you shake your head no. "She doesn't even know you. She just thinks every decision I make is a bad one." He didn't know what to say to that.

He's never met your family before, but it was obvious that you were raised in a very different environment than he was.

He also understood that you've always had a certain way dealing with negative things in your life, a certain perspective that makes your choices understandable.

"Did she want you to come home?" You answered no. "She doesn't care if I come home or not, and yet for some reason she's upset that I chose to be here instead of going back home."

"She sounds like a bitch, I'm gonna be honest." You snorted out a laugh as you pulled away before he could regret his words. "She is."

"So, what are you going to do?" You shrugged with a sigh. "Nothing. That's what I always do." You've given up trying to defend yourself years ago. Arguing with your mother never ends well because she doesn't argue to understand, she argues to win. "Some people are worth fighting for, but not everyone is worth fighting with."

He says nothing, staring at you from his seat. You wanted to ask him if he understood what you mean, if he understood that the person you mentioned worth fighting for was him, but just not against your mother. But you were already so sick and tired of talking about her.

She's like some sort of negative charge around you, even the thought of her brings darkness and gloom. "It doesn't matter what she thinks. Because in the end of the day, I'm the one who chose to be here, and I haven't regret it so far." His face broke into a grin at that. "No?"

"No." You repeated surely. "Hmm." He ponders. "Does that mean you're up for a repeat next year?" You raise a brow at that. "This year's one isn't even finished, you're already planning for next year's?"

"Of course."

"How do you know if I'll still be around next year?" You weren't sure what kind of answer you were expecting. It was some sort of test, not just for him, but for you too. "Because I know I love you. And I know you love me too."

"Love is a big word." You noted after considering his confession fairly. In most situations regarding intimacy and vulnerability, you'd always find yourself to be stuck in between the flight or fight mode. But this time, you're sitting down with it and letting yourself indulge the possibilities.

"Are you making fun of my vocabulary or are you questioning my sincerity." Oh. that sentence overall were all big words for him you fought over the grin threatening to appear.

"I'm questioning your assumption that I feel the same way as you."

"Well," he starts, "-you're here with me right now aren't you?" He says it in a matter of factly tone, leaning in towards you, wiggling his brows. "That means nothing." You countered his defense.

"If I kiss you right now, would it mean nothing?" The question was so sudden, you scoffed in face for all the words you're unable to say. "If you kiss me right now, it's because I'm letting you do it."

"Because you love me." You relented and matched his smile. "I love...your mother. And I love your siblings." He eyes you suspiciously. "But what I feel for you surpasses the word love." It was cheesy, it was childish, it was you laying your heart out for him and not being ashamed of it.

"Tomato, tomahto. I call it love, you call it whatever you just did." He muttered back His lips captures yours right after. Your palms finds the sides of his face as he kisses you deeper.

You don't hesitate to climb up from your seat to his own. You feel his fingers gripping your waist as you settle yourself over his lap, pushing the headrest down with a freehand, he lets you take the lead as his fingers moves lower to grip on your hips.

There was nothing soft about the kiss, your tongues danced with his and your teeth clashes together. He made sure that there would be no gap between you two. You gasp out for air once you pull away to slip your sweater off of you. You pull your pants down easily along with your underwear.

"Thank god for tinted windows, huh?" He whispers to you breathily as he discards his own clothes and zip open his trousers.

Your response to that joke is to push him back against the seat to kiss him stronger than before. "Jesusfuckingchrist." He swore against your lips when you begin to ground yourself against his hard on.

He lifte his hips up to meet your grinding, the sensation of your bare pussy against his cock. His fingers squeezes into the skin of your ass, making you whine out loudly. "Fuck- I need you." You moaned deliriously humping on him like your life depends on it.

He pulls his cock out of his boxers fully, pushing it inside your wet squelching cunt. He groaned into your ear as you hid your head by his neck. Your hands held onto his shoulders as your hips jumped up and down on his cock. His grip on you is bruising, but it only added to the pleasure.

You feel the head of his penis hitting your clit harshly every time you sink down fully on it. Jacaerys is grunting out your name repeatedly like prayers in the dark and throwing his head back, lost in the pleasure.

"God- Ah, Jace-" He relishes the noises you make as you squeezes his cock with your warm, tight pussy. "So good." It's driving him insane and he's almost breathless as you continue to pleasure yourself using him to get yourself off. "Fuck, baby." He growled.

You held each other through your orgasm, biting into his neck when you felt relief pass through you. That's gonna leave a mark, you thought. But the night was still bright, snow still falling, and neither of you had much energy left to care.

—

“Jacaerys, we have the heater on, why are you wearing a turtleneck?” Rhaenyra asks as she bring over the big plate of lemon cake to the table. “I like this turtleneck,” was his response to her. A terrible excuse, but she asked nothing more.

You helped her set the table while Jacaerys went over to his brothers’ rooms to wake them up. You could hear him yelling from upstairs, “It’s Christmas morning, get up!”

You refuse to admit to him that te Christmas spirit had gotten into you. Preparing the plates around each seat, you are more excited for the gift unwrapping that’ll be done after breakfast. And the snowball fight. Since when did you become so excited for snowball fights? Since you closed your eyes and tried to imagine this kind of life going on for years and realized that you want nothing less than it.

The kids came running down the stairs, bouncing in every step. “Don’t jump Joffrey, you’ll fall.” Rhaenyra chastised. Lucerys and Joffrey rushed to their seat, Jace following close from behind. “Hurry up, I want to open the presents.” Luc rushed. “You’ll get your presents sooner or later. Now, please eat breakfast slowly, I don’t need you choking on your meals at 9am.” His father’s voice boomed from the hallway as he entered the kitchen.

He had been out all day, buying stocks of eggs and flour for Rhaenyra to use.

“Alright, alright-“ Rhaenyra spoke, sitting down alongside everyone at last. “Who’s gonna say the prayers today? Luc?” The boy immediately shook his head. “I’ll do it.” Jace offered, his mother looked internally grateful. “Alright, go on.”

He takes a deep breath before he holds his fists together and closed his eyes, everyone but you followed through. You watch him begin to thank god for the food on the table and for his family’s good health and fortune before he goes on to thank god for his beautiful girlfriend. Luc mutters out an ‘ew’, which Jacaerys quickly retorts back ‘You just don’t have a girlfriend that’s why you’re jealous.” In the middle of his prayer, earning a warning ‘Jace…’ from his mother.

In the meantime, you were grateful that all of their eyes were closed, so that they wouldn’t be able to see your wide smile and flushed cheeks. I don’t have much faith in god these days, but I’d burn a prayer or two for you, you thought to yourself. And you meant it.

Once he ends his prayers with an Amen, he opens his eyes to connect them with yours first before the silent moment shared was broken by everyone else’s eagerness to eat.

They had not understood the meaning between your shared glances with him. How it was a way for him to tell you that you, just like his family, is his priority. They also don’t know how you had blocked your whole family’s contact list for good. And when you had told him of your action that morning, he looked at you so reassuringly and told you that as long as is he alive, you would never be without a family.

[thecapricunt1616]

Pearls - (c.b. one-shot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “Baby! Happy birthday- I’m sorry I musta woke you” he comes over, hugging you to his chest and kissing the top of your head “I got coffee all ready for you” he said and led you over to your usual spot at the island and setting down your mug, pouring you a cup and grabbing your favorite creamer from the fridge. It was creamer he made for you, fresh toasted hazelnuts and Indian vanilla beans that he made sure to take a few home whenever the restaurant got them imported. 

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pearls are associated with feminine energy, intuition, and nurturing qualities. Some say they can enhance a woman's natural grace and elegance, and connect her with her inner femininity. Also, In many traditions, pearls symbolize love, wisdom, and inner beauty. They are often exchanged as gifts to express deep affection and admiration. ♡ Summary: It's your birthday, and your man pulls out every stop to show you just how much he loves & worships you in every way. ♡ W/C: 4,600 ♡ Posted Date: 06/06/24 ♡ A/N: Hello! This is for my darling love @carmenberzattosgf - everyone say ' HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIRTY OLIVE MARTINI!!! ' RN!!!! She truly is the love of my tumblr life, I hope you enjoy this my sweetest moot!! I hope you also had a wonderful wonderful birthday. For all you folks that have asks rotting away in my inbox (STILL) i'm sorry :( I am still working I promise, But special days like this only come once per year we have to celebrate while we can! I hope you all enjoy this in the meantime :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT - Incl. but not limited to *ehehem* *cracks knuckles* ; Cockwarming, Spanking, Praise Kink, Choking (hands & arm), (kinda) bondage (it’s just gift ribbon so not really? But still restrained), Daddy!kink (this is mostly for dirty olive martinis reading pleasure & no one elses really in mind, kay, it’s martinis birthday, but you can read it if it’s yours - anywhore, if you don't like the d word SCOOT ALONG) it can be avoided though im not obnoxious w/ it, heavy cavity inducing fluff & aftercare, lowkey sugar daddy!carmy, Fem!/AFAB!Reader, R has long hair, No use of Y/N, Fem!Pet names (Babygirl, Sweetheart, Babe, Baby, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny/Kitten ETC), Established relationship, Unprotected PIV sex, Creampie/Breeding kink, & Other BDSM themes.

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

365. Another 365 days had passed, and you were another year older. Another year wiser and all that. It wasn’t usually a day that was out of the blue extraordinarily different then any of the other 364 days of the year, but Carmen made sure that now that you had been official for just about 8 months - it was a day to remember. 

He had this day marked in his apple calendar from the day you’d told him, which was your second date. He felt a bit … creepy doing that so soon. But he just brushed it off as telling himself he was bad with numbers, you were the first person to bring him out of his years-long dry spell, he’d seen you more then once, and didn’t just hook up and dip afterwards, so he figured if it did go anywhere, it couldn’t hurt to make sure it was documented. 

But the day had come, and Jesus fucking Christ was he nervous. He felt stupid for being nervous, you would probably laugh if you knew he was nervous. Tell him to cut it out, that it’s not that important - to which he would give you one of his little laughs. He had big plans for the day, which started with the day off of work, but him getting up at 5 am anyway to make you a gourmet Michelin starred breakfast in bed. 

He tried being quiet as he could, but so many years screaming (and being screamed at) in a commercial kitchen, and all the clanging of pots and pans - his hearing had been a bit dented. So you did wake up to the pleasant smell of coffee and bacon, and came out to see him standing there shirtless making some kind of caramelized French toast. “Shit” he hissed as he touched the pan on accident,  shaking his hand momentarily before continuing as he always did. 

He didn’t water burns anymore unless they bled, it was just a waste of time to him otherwise. “I’m surprised you still have tattoos on your hands” you said, causing him to jump a bit, startled, and turn around to face you, dropping his spatula on the island 

“Baby! Happy birthday- I’m sorry I musta woke you” he comes over, hugging you to his chest and kissing the top of your head “I got coffee all ready for you” he said and led you over to your usual spot at the island and setting down your mug, pouring you a cup and grabbing your favorite creamer from the fridge. It was creamer he made for you, fresh toasted hazelnuts and Indian vanilla beans that he made sure to take a few home whenever the restaurant got them imported. 

“I told you you didn’t have to do anything baby it’s just another day” you said and he mixed it up with a spoon, tapping it on the rim before dropping it off in the dishwasher. 

“That’s bullshit baby you know it- it’s your day, should be a national holiday” he joked, setting another piece of the home baked brioche bread in the vanilla caramel custard mix he’d whipped up with heavy cream and setting it in the pan, sprinkling some cinnamon on top. 

“Mm right. The national day of me where everyone has to bring me presents, and you have to cook me my favorite food. Is that-“

“Your creme brûlée French toast princess, it is” he finished for you and flipped it. The smell was mouth watering. You saw on the counter a bowl with buttery white fluff in it and knew he must have made the whip cream for it too. 

“How did I manage to land the best boyfriend ever?” You muse, taking a sip of your coffee he made you that was perfect per usual. He always made sure to memorize just how you like your food and drink, among other things about you that you were sure to come later. 

It wasn’t long before there was a plate being set in front of you with bacon and eggs and amazing looking French toast that was fucking filled with strawberry filling when you cracked it to cut it, you didn’t even know how the fuck he did that. He brought the dishes to the sink, rinsing them between nibbles of his own naked French toast. 

That was how it usually went, he cooked, then insisted on cleaning, after he made you a perfect and beautiful plate of food that was so stunning you hardly could handle eating it, all while he was nibbling the leftovers or the ‘failed portions’ he called them. You still enjoyed yourself, the food was so delicious how could you not. After you’d finished breakfast it was all up to you how you wanted to do your day. 

You were already over the moon he had taken the day off to be with you, so for now in the early 8 am sun you were sat out on the balcony, smushed together on a sun chair. His arms were wrapped securely around your back as you just sat, enjoying each other's silence. It was so nice to have him this way. 

“Do you want your gift now, or later?” He asked gently, continuing to drag his fingers up and down the length of your back. Your head popped up, fuck. The sun made his eyes impossibly blue. You didn’t think eyes could be that blue until you met Carmy. He was stunning, absolutely gorgeous. Like he was carved from stone. He always got all blushy when you told him that, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose doing that sweet pink you loved so much. 

“You got me a present?” You asked, happiness lacing your tone. You did tell him specifically you didn’t want or need anything, that you’d be beyond happy if he could just get the day off of work and spend it with you, and so when he told you he would be able to do that -  you were over the moon. 

“Maybe- I might have made reservations for dinner, too. So, how about that present sweetheart?” He asked and a smile curled on your lips. 

“You’re a sappy bear” you teased and kissed his lips lovingly before getting up, taking his hand with you and he followed leading you to the bedroom. 

“I love spoiling you, what can I say?” He reached under his side of the bed, pulling out a black and white bag from under his side of the bed that made you gasp a bit when you read the font. 

Chanel?

“Carmy- Carmy this is really-“

“You don’t have to wear it, if you hate it. It’s vintage, I called in a few favors with a friend I made in my time in Italy when I was doing some shadow work in the pastry side of things. It’s uh, so it’s the 97’ spring collection” he took out a black dress bag and your heart thumped against your ribs. You hadn’t ever owned something so high end before - let alone vintage. 

“So it’s kinda reflective of the more business chic look? I guess, that’s what she said was popular at the time” he unzipped it and you watched as he peeled back the fabric to reveal a stunning black dress with pearl buttons that were breathtaking. 

“Oh- Carmen” you whispered, stepping forward and touching the soft but thick fabric, it was stiff, nearly perfect. This wasn’t…a thrifted piece “Carmy who’s dress is this? I- I mean… you got it second hand, right?” You look at him, fingers grazing over one of the smooth buttons 

“No- no babe it. Yeah, this is…I guess you can call it one of a kind? They never put it into production not…not enough companies bought the design I guess, it’s been worn by one model one time baby, for like 10 minutes. It’s practically new-“

“That’s not-“ you shook your head “I don’t care if it was thrifted that feels kind of stupid to say, but you mean that I’m the only one to have this dress? Like…like, where did you even get it?” You questioned and he chuckled a bit. 

“I didn’t. I just got to see the photos of it, well- I didn’t have the time to go to the retired fashion house with my friend and look but she FaceTimed and I picked from what they had in your size. You don’t like it? Shit…” he muttered to himself looking back at the dress and you could practically hear the negative gears turning in his head

“I fuckin love it” you inturrupted and took the hanger from him, walking over to the mirror “holy fuck I’m like-“ you giggle “I’m look like I’m straight out of gossip girl- can I try it on? No! No. Later. Later- what time is our reservation?” You turn to him and he smiled at your enthusiasm. 

“It’s at 6- but you have other gifts not just that one baby” he took a box from the bag as well as a smaller box. 

“More-“ your jaw drops, walking over to the bed. You see the ribbon tying the bigger box together and bit your lip to contain your grin at your less than pure ideas. “I think you gave more than just the gift in the box” you undid the big luxurious bow, the tendrils of ribbon cascading all the way to the floor. There was plenty of it to use for activities later. 

“Is that so?” He held you from behind, chin on your shoulder as you flipped open the lid of the box, tugging open the tissue paper and gasping. 

“Are those-“

“More pearls” he held up the bag, by its handle, tugging off the dust bag to reveal sleek crocodile leather and a ‘Chanel’ logo clasp you could have only dreamed of when you were younger. 

“Holy fucking shit” you held it in your hands, nearly feeling like you should be wearing gloves because of how beautiful and precious the bag was. “You remembered that” you said as you thumbed over the pearls on the handle and he huffed a chuckle, patting your hip. 

“I try my best to remember everything I can about you, it’s kinda my job now” he kissed your cheek “so…y’like it?” He questioned. You were in shock, really. You didn’t even want to breach the thought in your mind of how much it might have costed him, over a birthday - just one day, just your day. 

You knew Carmy was fairly frugal, the man didn’t even invest in an extra dresser to store his beloved jeans in, until you moved in, of course. When you moved in - his apartment became much more alive in a literal sense and emotional one. You had put up artwork you’d found on your trips together to thrift stores, he told you that you had an eye for it, and of course he found you the cutest outfits in return for your decorating skills. 

You had found a total of 3 bear ash trays, 5 bear coffee mugs, a Smokey the Bear T shirt (he only wore it to bed since apparently, you teased,  he was too ‘cool guy’ to wear a printed shirt in public), a set of fourteen bowls, cups, and plates that were printed with what you both assumed was the California state bear  because there was absolutely the California state flag on one of the serving platters - but it was… hand painted? You both laughed until your ribs hurt when you found it, because what the hell was it doing in Chicago? Plus, the bears looked so silly. They became your favorite plates, the very ones you had your breakfast on a few hours prior. 

“No - I..I love it. I love it - I can’t believe you remembered my birthstone.” You said gently, looking at the beautiful gold clasp. You opened it, to see the embossed stamp inside ‘made in Italy’ your heart fluttered at the sight. “I love you” you turned around and hugged him tight. He rubbed your back, enveloping you in one of his big warm hugs, his strong arms rubbing over your back and he kissed your neck gently. He hadn’t shaved yet today, so his stubble scratched at your jaw as he kissed down, over your shoulder. 

You still hadn’t changed out of the velvet robe he’d gotten you a month or so ago, he loved that robe. He saw one just like it while you were snuggling In bed one night. It was hot pink, juicy couture. Something one of Natalie’s friends he crushed on would have worn back in 2005 at a sleepover. He had hunted all over the internet for it until he found it, $90 on depop but he bought it anyway since he’d absolutely scoured the sleepwear section at every thrift in Chicago for it, no dice. 

He tugged the shoulder down, kissing over the bare skin gently before resting his nose in the nook of your neck and holding you close. “I love you bear, so much” you manage to say without sounding as tear filled as you were. “You treat me so special” you sniffled a bit, pawing away your tears quickly so he wouldn’t have to see them. He hated seeing you cry. Even when they were happy tears, it made him want to cry - and he hated crying. 

“Open y’last gift- well, second t’last we’re picking up the last on the way t’dinner” he pecked your lips sweetly and urged you to sit on the bed, setting the small box in your palm and kissing your head. “Open baby. I think you’ll look amazing” he said as you untied the box and tugged it open to reveal 2 stunning mother of pearl earrings encased in gold. 

“So- they’re vintage. Like everything else, cause I know you like it more like me y’know - quality and all that shit. But, ok so” he picked one up and showed you “they’re from the 80s, but I thought the gold was super fuckin sick. So I got em- didn’t realize they were clip on- and I called them and the lady said that was the style? Er whatever? And that they’re heavy, so it’ll be more comfortable for-“

You interrupt him with a kiss, taking the box with fumbling hands and putting it to the side, cupping his cheeks. He hummed gently into you, his hands finding yours and giving them a light squeeze. You pulled away after a few moments of intense kissing, mostly tongue and teeth and small moans coming from the both of you. You pant softly, eyes flicking down to his now red kiss bitten lips before looking back up into his ones that you could only describe as resembling his birthstone. 

“I want you to tie me up, and fuck me like you own me, that is what I want for my birthday afternoon” you toss the ribbon from the purse box at his chest and it flutters down into his lap to which he watches it and looks back at you. 

“That seems like something I should get for my birthday and that’s not for 2 months. But okay - can’t tell y’no on your birthday” he untied your robe and tugged it off, brows raising when he realized you didn’t even bother to put on panties after last nights activities. “Fuck-” he mumbled, kissing down your neck and gently nipping at the tender skin. His mouth sent trails of fire down to the pit of your core, mouthing over you in a way that made you whimper beneath him prettily. 

“Need you so bad daddy” you laid back, hair splayed over the pillow beneath you. The way his eyes raked over your naked frame would have made you insecure if it had been any other hookup you had before him. With Carmy it was different, he was observing you, trying to decide which part of you he wanted to worship first - taking his time with you was his favorite thing to do. It was never mean, never teasing, but moreso savoring the moment, he savored every single second he had of you this way like the first time, every time. 

“I gotchu babygirl” he kissed down your chest, tongue swirling and dancing over your sensitive skin, while his warm palm - so warm, so - so warm, so warm that if you were made of sugar you’d be melting into him - well, you might as well should be considering how pliant you were to his touch - was kneading at the plush fat of your thigh as he ravished your top half. “So soft” he muttered into your skin, sucking little bruises into the flesh of your breast. You watched him, mumbling soft praises into each part of you as if he was telling each body part of yours individually how perfect and meant for him they were. How you were so, so beautiful. Flawless, that was a word he often liked to use. It honestly made you blush, but over the months it made you much more confident in yourself, the negative voices you heard in your mind were usually replaced by his real voice of praise. 

“N’smell so good kitten” he nuzzled his nose in the hill of your cleavage, inhaling. “Mmm- how’d I get so lucky t’have you, hmm? Such a pretty girl wanting to spend her special day with me” you smiled at that, your cheeks felt like they were on fire, so did your cunt- clenching and clit twitching at every praise. He knew what It did to you, how wild it drove you. 

“I ask myself how I got so lucky every day, take care of me so good” you took his wrist, moving his hand needily towards your pussy that was basically crying for attention at this point “please take care of me daddy” you said gently, voice wanton and needy. 

“Oh, princess, f’course- already so wet f’me huh?” he ran his fingers through your folds, earning a pretty moan out of you, your head falling back to the pillow in bliss. “Always so responsive t’me, so well behaved” he mused, easily finding your clit and rubbing light circles over the swollen nub. Your hips buck at the contact, a whine peeling from your lips absentmindedly and hand reaching up to roll your nipples between your fingers as he kissed down your sternum, and ribs, and stomach, trailing down to where you were needing him the most.

“S-so wet” you breathe, spreading your thighs wider to make room for him. 

“God- I could spend the rest of my fuckin’ life between these legs” he kissed the same plush of your thigh he’d been pawing at earlier, spreading your nether lips with his fingers and just admiring. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen- jesus” he leaned in, his mouth finally making contact with your warmest part, licking a stripe up with the pad of his tongue. The feeling of the pressure as he padded his tongue over your throbbing, sensitive bud, could only be explained as something otherworldly by the way fireworks sprayed behind your closed lids and back arched to the sky. “Taste even better” he mumbled, it was barely audible but you absolutely felt the sensation, as it caused your hips to grind against his face and other hand that wasn’t stimulating your nipples to find the back of his head and essentially ride his face from the bottom.

You felt his tongue lapping at your entrance, before lapping back up and kissing at your clit - basically making out with your pussy, it felt so incredible your brain felt like it could melt out of your ears. “H-holy fuck” you babbled, tugging at his hair in a way that made him groan. He wasn’t exactly a masochist, but he’d told you before he loved it when you left scabs on his back for a week and when you tugged his hair so hard that it hurt the next day it made him hard thinking about it- so you made sure to give him that whenever he made it possible. 

“Yea? Like that daddy?” you breathed, you loved this game you got into. You were there to serve, he was there to praise, the perfect duality for your mixture of kinks. 

“Always so good princess, y’know exactly how t’get me off” he placed a wet, intemerate kiss on your thigh, his chin leaving a print of your glistening creamy arousal and making a click noise at the soaked contact. The action made you clench, which in turn made him smile into your heat, nudging the bridge of his nose against your clit in the way that made your hips thresh beneath him. He chuckled into you, the vibration causing a pathetic whine to leave your lips. “Jumpy bunny, mm?” he mused before continuing

Your jaw fell slack orgasm closely approaching as his middle finger broached your entrance and he sunk in to his palm, curling his finger in a come here motion, as if he was beckoning your orgasm - and It was working. Each brush of the pad of his finger against your sweetest spot made a sweet whimper leave your lips. His lips attach to your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it like there was no tomorrow. Your spine arched to the sky, and his other arm came across your hips, holding you firmly in place. Since you could no longer wriggle away from the heavenly stimulation - you resorted to pathetic whines and cries. 

“I-I’m cumming- ohhh- oh daddy- fu-fuuuuhuuuck- shit- ah!” you squeak, mind going fuzzy and thighs quivering as unbeknownst to you you soaked your shared sheets, little hums and ‘oh’s’ stuttering from your lips. 

“Always takin’ me so good, mm babygirl? Even on your day” you came back to him grabbing your hips and rolling you over, looking over the hill of your shoulder as his knee held your thighs down and he grabbed the at least 4 feet of Chanel printed ribbon tugging your hands behind your back and you clasped your fingers into open-fingered fists due to your manicure Carmy always made sure was no more then a week old, smiling to yourself as you mushed your cheek against the mattress while you pull your knees underneath yourself to support your upper half. “Y’lucky Mike forced me into that year of cubscouts” he muttered as he tied a decently tight reef knot into the ribbon. You giggled a bit considering the memories he told you about that year of his life. His dad was the ‘den dad’ which was his ultimate demise as his dad thought masculinity was the end all be all - so made Carmy be the first kid to kill a rabbit during their hunting exercise. But, the other memories were quite funny of him getting lost in a canoe, his first time grilling a hot dog over a fire and setting it (and a tent) on fire, you both got a good kick whenever he talked about it.

Like Richie, which was unsurprising since he was basically his second older brother - Carmy loved to tell, and retell - and retell - stories about his beloved older brother. You had figured it was because of just how much he missed him. In between getting lost in your thoughts of why you loved your boyfriend so much, you felt a sharp smack on your ass. “Answer when I talk t’you, you know the rules” he said and you whimper at the sting to which he leans down and kisses the offended cheek, thats new.

“S-sorry Daddy- I didn’t listen, please- m’sorry, say it again” you beg, looking back at him while laying on your shoulder, eyes pleading. 

“M’only gonna be nice cause its y’r day. I said, D’you want me t’stretch you out or you want another?” he brought his dominant hand to your clit, middle and forefingers pinching the pulsing nub between and tugging it back and forth with a small click, click your wetness introduced with the motion. 

“No- no- stretch me, I want it hard” you plead, wiggling your ass towards him pathetically “Want bruises daddy” you begged and he bit his lip harshly, the already red abused flesh going white with the action. 

“No - Maybe when we get home, m’not leavin’ y’black and blue before a dinner like this, the food’ll be too good f’you to be whining ‘bout it hurtin’ n’wantin’ t’come home” he spanked you rough enough to leave a stinging mark. You whimpered at the force of it

“Ok- okay- yes sir” you agreed, “N-need your cock. Please- “ you begged. He tugged you up by your wrists, carefully of course, supporting most of your weight by your ribs with his forearm and his hand trailed up your body, finding your neck and gripping just hard enough for that yummy, light feeling to grace your head. Natures high. 

“Yeah kitten? Need it? Say it again, I love hearing you beg” he tightened his hand, a small smirk coming to your lips. He always gave you exactly what you needed. 

“Pl-please, Daddy, Need you so bad- need your cum - please” he brought his lips firmly to yours, swallowing your moans as he pushed inside of you, just his tip causing you to shudder in pleasure and whine into his mouth. He squeezed your throat harder, fucking up into you relentlessly. His heavy balls slapped against the meat of your ass, kissing along your hairline as he went on an expedition to chase your next orgasm. If anything, the man was determined in bed. 

“Yeah? Need me t’fill this pretty pussy up? Yea?” he growled in your ear, smacking down on your left cheek with his other hand as he continued. You fell slack against you, not minding he was holding you by the throat and fucking up in to you like a sex doll, it felt good to be used, by him anyway.

“Fill me- please fill me up daddy- Need it- n-need your cum” you whined out. Your voice didnt even sound like yours anymore, it was horse, fucked out, needy, whorish. “So bad- so bad daddy” you added. He grunted, his forearm replacing his wrist and pulling you back as he buried himself to the hilt. He was grunting, and whining, and moaning in a way that made your cunt squeeze his cock like a vice. You gasp as he started instead of thrusting in and out, pulling his hips up and down - bringing a sensation that was making you dizzy with pleasure.

Blood roared in your ears, your g-spot was being assaulted by his tip in such a way you thought you may die from how good you felt, and his hot, raspy moans and praises about how wet, and warm you felt, along with how your pussy was sucking his cock inside - you could have died right then and it would have been more then a satisfying death, and life considering all the joy you’d run into since you’d started seeing Carmy exclusively. Without warning, you soak the sheets and Carm’s thighs. 

The noises you were making were straight up pornographic, and that wasn't lost on Carm either. The orgasm that washed over you - you swore was nearly drug-like - you’d never done them, but you swore the full body orgasm that washed over your being was something akin to a fentanyl high. It was so good,that when you came to - you were untied, and Carmy was coaxing the straw of your lilac colored Stanley bottle to your lips. “Drink, hmm princess? Y’shakin, and that was a big mess, need y’water” he cooed, gently stroking your hair with his other hand. 

“Hmm?” you sit up, a bit afraid of how much time had been lost, that had never happened before. “What - wh-what happened?” you asked a bit worried. Carmy pulled you back to his chest, kissing your temple. 

“Baby, princess, shhh- shh- here, have some water mm?” he coaxed and brushed your sweat stuck hair from your skin, bringing a relief to your boiling hot neck. You finally obliged and took a big gulp, looking up at him with worried, but trusting eyes. “S’only been 10 minutes, y’were shakin then you closed y’r eyes f’r a bit, s’ok, y’r okay sweetheart” He assured and grabbed your hairtie from your wrist, carefully tying up your hair. 

“Thank you f’takin care of me” you mumbled, resting your cheek on his sweat-sticky chest, as perv-like as it was enjoying the scent of your mixed arousal in the bedroom and rubbing your hand over his chest lovingly.  “S’my job angel, Happy birthday baby girl”

[pedrospatch]

bailé con mi ex l (javier peña x female reader)

summary: After a night out at the club with your friends, you confess to Javier that you danced with your ex-boyfriend and he doesn’t take the news too well.

pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

warnings: 18+ only, minors dni. Protective, jealous and slightly possessive Javi, he is a lil toxic, but just a smidge I promise; innocent-ish reader; angst, bits of fluff sprinkled in here and there. Not proofread for spelling, sorry!

word count 2.2k

a/n 📝 wooo, Vee finally popped her Javi cherry. testing the waters with this one, I also have a couple prompts from a while back to still write. it is based on a Becky G song, yes I know she and this song did not exist back in the day (I think? Idk what year she was born tbh) but ANYWAY I just really like the lyrics and plus it’s fiction so who cares lmao. Translations at the end ✨

Tú no me creerás, pensarás que hay algo más

es difícil de entenderlo, pero no sería capaz de enganãrte

y si te lo cuento

es porque tengo muy claro lo que siento

It was half past one o’ clock in the morning—you had told Javier you’d be home by midnight at the very latest. But a night out at one of the more popular clubs in Bogotá celebrating a close friend’s birthday meant that none of the girls were going to allow you to leave that early without giving you some kind of shit about it, so you had stayed just a little while longer and tossed back another drink or two before finally calling it a night. Your friends still gave you grief about it, but knowing Javier, he would be worried, especially since cartel violence in the region had begun to escalate over the last several months, worsening to the point where Javi didn’t even like you going out to the produce market all by yourself in broad daylight.

You tried to be as quiet as possible as you pulled your keys out from your purse, fumbling around with them in the dark until you’d finally found the right one to unlock the front door of yours and Javier’s shared apartment. You slipped inside and the moment that you did, the lights flipped on, causing you to whirl around and let out a startled little yelp. 

You turned to see Javier standing there, fully dressed in his jeans and a tight red button up shirt with his set of car keys clutched in hand. “Javi,” You breathed out his name as your hand flew to your chest. You shot him a glare. “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me! What in the world are you doing? Why are you dressed—do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” Javier retorted, raising an eyebrow at you. Part of him seemed to be upset, but the other part of him seemed more relieved than anything. He tossed his keys down onto the small, hallway table and walked over to you, taking your face between his large hands as he kissed your forehead. He let his lips linger on your skin as he reminded you, “You told me you would be home by midnight, amor. You can’t tell me that and then come home almost two hours later. You know how bad things are out there right now. You could have at least called me to let me know you’d be late.”

“I’m sorry, I know. It’s just that the girls were shoving shot glass after shot glass right into my hands and time just got away from me,” You said, placing both of your hands right over his. Your eyes met his dark brown ones and you flashed him a sincere, apologetic look. “I’m really sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t mean to make you worry, Javi.”

He sighed. “Well, you’re home safe now. That��s all that matters to me.” Javier dropped his hands from your face and led you into the living room. “Can I get you anything, baby? Are you thirsty?”

“Actually, I’d love a glass of water,” You admitted, kicking off your black, high heeled shoes before dropping down onto the supple, brown leather couch. You watched him as he padded over into the kitchen. “I didn’t get as drunk as I thought I would, you know.” You added jokingly, “I think my tolerance for tequila is through the roof now.”

Javi laughed as he pulled a glass from one of the kitchen cabinets; he then filled it with water from the jug he’d pulled out of the refrigerator. “But you still had fun, right?”

“God, I had so much fun,” You told him with a grin. “I danced all night, Javi.”

“With who?” He’d asked the question casually, but you could detect the seriousness behind it. 

Your smile faded slightly.

At first, you hadn’t planned to tell him. But Javier was the love of your life, and you would never dare to keep any kind of secret from him.

Still, you knew he wouldn’t be all too happy with what you were about to confess.

Javier walked back over to you, handing you the glass of water. He frowned, noticing the hesitant expression on your face. “What is it?” He placed his hands on his hips, peering at you curiously. “You didn’t dance with any guys, did you?”

“Just one,” You admitted, softly. 

Javier froze a moment, his shoulders going rigid. 

“What?” Through gritted teeth, he demanded to know, “Who?”

The moment your ex boyfriend’s name fell from your lips, the color drained from Javier’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Setting the glass down on the table beside the couch, you quickly jumped up and held up your hands in defense. “Wait a minute, before you get mad about it, just let me explain—”

“What the hell is there to explain?” Javier nearly growled at you. “That you went to some nightclub and danced with another man? One who happens to be your fucking ex-boyfriend? Es en serio?”

You went up to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Javi, please. Just wait one second—”

He snatched his arm away. “Don’t touch me!”

Your heart sank and you backed away. “Really? You’re not even going to let me explain myself?”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Javier replied coolly. His eyes flickered up and down, giving you a quick once over from head to toe. “I would have never thought that you would be such a—”

Javier stopped himself, knowing all too damn well that he was far too angry to think clearly before letting anything come out of his mouth.

But it was too late.

He could see the hurt that flashed in your eyes. 

“Such a what?” You crossed your arms over your chest, the blood in your veins running frigid. You then raised a knowing eyebrow at him. “Such a whore?”

“I didn’t say fucking that,” he muttered, averting your gaze.

Blinking back the tears that burned your eyes, you roughly shoved past him and went straight into the bathroom. Trembling, you began looking for a clean washcloth so that you could start taking off your makeup.

The sound of the front door slamming violently just a minute or two later caused you to wince.

Certain that Javier was gone, you sank down onto the cold white tile and began to sob.

A couple of hours later into the early morning, you were sitting on your bed in nothing but one of Javier’s shirts. 

You had cried and cried, releasing your emotions until your eyes had gone dry.

You’d hoped Javier would come right back home and talk things out with you, but by the time four o’ clock rolled around, you had given up on that hope. Letting out an exhausted sigh, you were just about to reach out and switch off the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed when you heard the sound of the front door opening and then closing. 

You swallowed harshly as the sound of his footsteps approaching drew closer and closer.

Javier walked into the bedroom, looking surprised to see you sitting there, still awake at this hour. He spoke in a cold tone that let you know he was still upset with you. “I thought you would be asleep by now.”

Even from where he stood, you could smell the heavy stench of cigarettes and scotch all over him.

“I was waiting up for you,” You murmured, quietly.

Javier kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and let out a long sigh. He said nothing else to you as he kicked off his tan boots and began shrugging out of his shirt, tossing it aside.

“Where were you?” You asked him, your small voice breaking through the silence. 

“I needed a drink,” he responded curtly with his back to you.

“We have drinks here, you know.”

“Yeah, well I needed something a lot stronger than what we’ve got.”

Finally, Javier had no choice but to turn around and face you.

The second he did, a fresh tear slipped down the side of your face.

Javier’s stomach sank deeply and the expression on his face immediately softened.

“Bebe—”

You lifted both your hands to your mouth, muffling a broken sob.

“Hell, I’m sorry,” he apologized as he walked over, taking a seat beside you on the bed. He reached for your wrists, gently tugging them away from your face. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset at you, alright?”

“Do you really think that of me? Do you think that I’m a—?” You’d said the word once, but couldn’t find it in yourself to utter it again.

“Of course I don’t, mi vida. I was just angry, I wasn’t even thinking.” He paused, noticing the way you were trembling and reached up to cradle the side of your face in his palm. “Put yourself in my shoes for a second. Wouldn’t you be angry at me if I came home from a late night at the club and told you I had danced with one of my exes?”

“Probably,” You admitted, feeling the envy boil in your lower belly as you thought about him holding another woman in his arms. “But I would have at least given you the chance to explain yourself. I mean, have I ever given you a reason not to trust me, Javi?”

Javier opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut.

He’d fucked up.

“Well?” You prompted him. “Answer me, Javier. Have I ever done anything to make you think that you can’t trust me?”

“No.” His hand dropped from your face. He spoke again, guilt lacing his tone. “You’ve never given me one single reason not to trust you.”

You let out a small, shaky sigh and brought your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “He was at the club with his friends tonight,” You began to explain to him. You noticed the way Javier stiffened slightly; although you knew he didn’t want to hear about how you had danced with your ex-boyfriend, you decided to continue on anyway. He needed to know. “He came up to me and he said hello. We had a drink together and then he asked me to dance with him.” Unable to help yourself, you let out a small breathy chuckle. “We danced to quite a few songs, actually. It was just like old times.”

Javier’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists.

Before he could say anything, you lifted one of your own hands to stop him. “He was a great guy, Javier. We had a good relationship, but it just didn’t work out. It wasn’t meant to be. When we broke up, it was amicable and we wished each other best and now, a couple years later, we both have the best. He’s with someone he loves and I’m with someone that I love too.” You offered him a tiny, watery smile. “I don’t have eyes or space in my heart for anyone else but you, Javier. Seeing him again and dancing with him tonight made me realize that I would never even dare to think about jeopardizing our relationship. I love you more than anything, and I would never do anything to betray you.” 

He stared at you, mouth agape.

Oh, he’d definitely fucked up.

Before meeting you, Javier had never been the kind of man to do relationships—because he’d never known how to do relationships. 

Before you’d walked into his life, all Javier knew was meaningless sex with escorts and informants, one night stands with coworkers—regardless of who he fucked, he had always been able to walk away the following morning without any sort of attachment. It’s what he wanted, or at least, it’s what he’d thought he wanted. 

And then Javier met you. 

You weren’t the type of woman who he’d normally set his sights on. You didn’t walk around almost naked like half the women in Colombia, you didn’t smoke, you rarely ever even cursed and only drank when your friends pressured you into it—you had this kind of sweet innocence written all over you, and normally Javier would never look twice at a woman like you because a woman like you looked for a boyfriend; not a fuck buddy and certainly not a one night stand.

Javier Peña had never been boyfriend material. 

He didn’t know how to be in a relationship.

At least not a healthy one. 

Even now, he struggled to be the partner that you deserved. He met your physical needs without a single problem, but your emotional needs were something of a challenge for him. Still, Javi loved you with every fiber of his entire being and he was more than willing to keep on trying to be the man you needed him to be in every way possible. 

“I’m sorry,” Javier murmured again after a while. He reached out, placing his hand on your bare thigh. “I am so sorry, baby. Perdoname, preciosa. Please.”

You placed your hand on top of his, giving him another little smile. “Of course I forgive you, Javi.”

Relieved, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. As he began to deepen the kiss, his hands reached out, tugging at the hem of his shirt were wearing.

“Javi, it’s four in the morning,” You giggled against his lips.

Javier chuckled. He pushed you back against the pillows and swung his leg over to climb on top of you. “When has that ever stopped us before?”

“True,” You grinned up at him before pulling him down towards you for another kiss.

;Translations

lyrics:

You might not believe me, you’ll think there’s something more

it’s difficult to understand, but I could never betray you

if I’m telling you this, it’s because I know exactly how I feel

fic:

amor - love

es en serio? - are you serious?

bebe - baby

mi vida - my life

perdoname, preciosa - forgive me, precious girl

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

airp2ds

read part one of airpods here!!!

wc: 2k reader: femme!afab (matt calls reader a "pretty girl", is called a "young lady" by their uncle-- it's meant to feel derogatory ofc, reader is wearing a skirt, reader dances at a strip club in stilettos) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- less of a bonkers scenario, but some really rich and fun plot development this time; funny & angst & fluff surprisingly-- stepcest obvi and we discuss it summary: after (y/n)'s little stunt a few days ago, their whole family gathers for an anything but peaceful dinner. rivalnewstepbrother!matthew has no interest in helping you out of this awful situation. or does he? yooooooo this only took 4 months to post, but it's perfect so hope you'll forgive me!! i TOLD you i'd do it eventually. and i did. missing organ and all. ilyyy thanks for bearing with me ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, stepcest and we don't ignore it, p-in-v penetrative sex, brief heavy petting/fingering, not entirely safe cum destination lmao, unprotected obviously (do what you want, be smart), reader is a dancer at a strip club and their family is appalled, swearing... this one made me feel again yay

you stick your fork in a potato and pop it in your mouth, chewing and swallowing as you stare at your plate. your entire extended family converses around you at the long, glass dining table, celebrating your new stepdad’s birthday with your mom’s locally famous honey ham and roasted potatoes. 

everyone’s having a goodman ball.

everyone except... you.

after suffering such a devastating defeat a couple nights ago, you’d been avoiding matthew like the plague. tail between your legs, you’d stood up from your stepbrother’s bed after he left you high and dry— sulking all the way back to your room.

you’d been avoiding matthew so diligently since then that this dinner was the first time you’d seen him since his fingers were inside you. he’s eating a little too well and talking to all of your family members, oozing respect and likability. 

you’ve never hated anyone more.

“now matthew,” you grandmother starts, reaching out her hand to him, “please tell us more about what you’ve been doing abroad. it all sounds so important from what your father’s mentioned!”

matthew smiles humbly. “i’ve been pursuing a career in performance in seoul! it’s really not all that important in the scheme of things, but it’s definitely been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.”

“don’t be too humble, matthew,” your stepdad calls from the head of the table. “he works tirelessly day and night to accomplish his goal! he’s such a great kid.”

“we’re so very proud. i never imagined having a child with such passion and drive!” your mom chimes in obliviously. her eyes widen when she realizes what she said and she clears her throat awkwardly. “i mean, a son, that is.”

you close your eyes, stabbing a roasted red potato and letting your fork clatter onto the fine china plate. 

“(y/n), how are you doing?” your uncle asks quickly. “have you found a better job yet?”

“i’m doing fine, thank you,” you answer through gritted teeth. “and i like my job. i’m not interested in finding one that society would categorize as better at this time.”

“but a young lady like you shouldn’t be—.”

“but what i am interested in finding a better version of,” you interrupt, picking up your glass of wine and downing the remaining contents, “is a family. one that doesn’t judge me or compare me to my new stepbrother— who, if i’m to judge from how you all indulge him, is jesus christ reincarnated! how divinely exciting!”

“(y/n),” your mother scolds, grabbing the empty wine glass out of your hand. “don’t be so cruel to your brother.”

“he’s not my brother,” you assert, snatching the wine glass back. in a flash, it slips from your fingers and shatters onto the dining room floor.

“you always do this,” your mother sighs, shaking her head in disappointment. she can’t even look at you. "you get so jealous when anyone is doing better than you are. i’m just so tired of your selfish immaturity.”

“perhaps it's time for you to get your own apartment and stop freeloading off of us,” your stepfather says with a sigh. “then you’ll find the motivation to stop working at that indecent bar and start making a proper living.”

your stomach flips at the threat. “i grew up in this house. you moved in a year ago after the mortgage was already paid off. doesn’t that make you as much of a fucking freeloader as i am?”

“(y/n), stop this right now,” your mom tries again to quiet you.

“you talk like that and you think you could ever be as well-liked as my son? the—”

“dad,” matthew says, trying to interrupt the rant that’s already begun. he should know by now it’s too late.

“—reason that no one here ever boasts about your accomplishments is because you have none. the reason no one ever praises how respectable you are is because it would be a lie. you—”

“dad,” matthew says again, louder this time but it still doesn’t reach the ears of the valentino-suited man turning red in the face.

“—are an ungrateful brat of an adult child that doesn’t even have enough vision for their life to stop working at a strip club.”

everyone at the dinner table gasps. so the truth has been set free: ‘bar’ had been the code word your ashamed mother and stepfather had been using in place of ‘strip club’ for the past year.

guess their resentment had finally outweighed their shame.

your gaze travels down the table, landing on matthew. he’s staring at his lap awkwardly.

“if you’ll excuse me,” you say, standing up from your chair and giving a big, facetious curtsy. “the whore will leave the table now.”

——

you slam your bedroom door behind you, storming over to your bed and picking up your favorite plushy— the one your dad had bought you for your high school graduation before he... it’s a baby fox, pink blush across his smiling face. usually the only aggression you feel towards him is that of cuteness, but suddenly you find yourself filled with rage.

how had you not noticed before just how much barnaby foxworth iii looks like your stupid fucking stepbrother!?

you turn around, hurling baby foxworth across your room with a scream. your eyes widen as the plushy lands in the hands of his human twin. you hadn’t heard him come in over the blood rushing in your ears. 

matthew looks at the plushy, brow furrowing as he studies it. “i feel like i’ve seen this face somewhere before.”

“get the fuck out of my room,” you growl, walking over to him and grabbing baby foxworth. you frown as matthew holds onto him, not letting you pry your own plushy from his hands. “let go of him! what the fuck is your problem!?”

“i distinctly remember you stealing something from me a couple days ago and making it quite the fucking challenge to get it back,” matthew argues, pulling a little harder. “besides, how much can you really want something that you just threw across the room?”

you continue a tug-o-war for your beloved baby fox until you hear a sudden ripping noise. matthew lets go instantly, fear splayed across his face. you take baby foxworth in your arms, finding the fabric tear at the base of his little neck.

“i’m so sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “i really didn’t meant to—.”

“you’re sorry?” you repeat, jaw clenching as you step towards him. “sorry for what? sorry that you mamed barnaby foxworth iii? sorry that you barged into my room without knocking? sorry that i’ve made yet another mess out of a family celebration?”

“(y/n)…”

“sorry that all you do while they ridicule me is sit there and stare at your plate? sorry that your dad married my mom?”

“wait, (y/n)—…”

“sorry that i work at a strip club? sorry for what we did the other day?”

“i—…,” he stutters hopelessly. “i—.”

suddenly, your lips are on matthew’s— his body tensing at the unexpected action. you pull back, eyes meeting his.

they’re wide, shocked, confused. his hand reaches towards your face quickly and you think for a moment he’s going to slap you with it, but instead, he cups your jaw.

holding you still, he brings his lips back down to touch yours again. it’s a slow, languid kiss that, in and of itself, feels like an apology. a genuine one. 

it’s overwhelming. it challenges everything you thought you knew about this stranger you were now forced to call family.

you step back, clutching baby foxworth tighter to your chest. 

“they were so impressed when you told them you’re a dancer,” you whisper, tears beginning to spill over. “why were they so disgusted when i told them i am, too?”

his face falls as he thinks about your words. “i think you know why.”

you press your lips together, a sardonic huff of a laugh escaping you. did you really think you’d get sympathy from him?

“but it’s not fair,” matthew continues. “it’s not fair that they treat you that way.”

you’re afraid to look up at him, eyes remaining fixed on the tear at your plushy’s neck. “i didn’t even think you’d noticed.”

“i’ll admit, i didn’t see it at first. it’s not like i’m here that often,” he replies with a sigh. “and i guess i did think you were the problem. and i do still think you’re part of the problem, don’t get me wrong.”

you roll your eyes, looking down at the floor.

“but maybe you’ve forgotten that no one knows what my dad can be like more than i do,” matthew says, wrapping his hand gently around your upperarm. “i thought maybe he’d finally changed for the better after marrying your mom, but i know now that’s far from the truth. and i can try my best to help you from now on, if you’ll let me.”

“thanks,” you say quietly as your eyes meet his. he smiles softly at you before you promptly brush his hand off your arm. “but i still don’t like you.”

your hostility just widens his smile. “i thought you’d say that.”

you turn, walking back to your bed and placing baby foxworth by your pillows. you think about what your family must still be saying about you around the dinner table. your thoughts are halted, however, when a warm, muscular chest is soon pressed against your back.

“i was just wondering,” he says softly against your ear, arm snaking around your waist. “there has to be something about me that you like, right? i mean, you're the one who wanted my face in your cunt. and don't think i haven't heard you call me perfect a few times now.”

“i meant it as an insult,” you breathe as a hand reaches underneath your skirt— fingers beginning to pad delicate circles over your panties.

“was screaming my name while cumming all over my fingers also supposed to be taken as an insult?” he asks, knee against the back of yours until you tumble gently onto your bed— his arms catching you and flipping you on your back to face him. “you must’ve really been trying to offend me.”

matthew shimmies your skirt and panties down your legs and you find yourself assisting to kick it off with your foot onto the floor. he laughs much too smugly as he unzips his slacks and discards them onto the hardwood. you hover your foot over his groin, brow raising in a threat.

“okay, okay,” he admits in defeat. as a grin stretches across your lips, he bites at your thighs hungrily and sighs. “god, i wish i wasn’t your brother.”

“matt!” you screech in horror and he takes the opportunity to sink himself inside you. you gasp at the sudden stretch, a protest turning to a whimper as he smirks at you. “matt...”

“no need to worry, baby,” he coos, tip of his cock reaching your backmost wall. “it’s pretty obvious there’s a divorce on the way. my dad’s already let it slip to me about how he secretly blew all the money in their joint savings on a third yacht.”

“my mom’s been fucking her tennis instructor for two months,” you reply, trying to hold yourself together as matthew increases his pace. “and her golf instructor. and her pilates instructor. and her business lawyer. and her—.”

matthew’s lips meet yours. “you’re so fucking hot.”

you run your hand up his chest, tugging at his shirt until he pulls it off over his head. it’s a shame to admit it, but... he is perfect.

“but if our parents get divorced, we’ll never see each other,” you say with a pout. you shake your head quickly, realizing what you just said. “which i’m totally fine with. but you’d probably be really upset.”

a particularly rough thrust sends you reeling— crying out in pleasure and totally blowing your act. 

“yeah, it’d be really hard for me,” matthew patronizes, mimicking your pout. “g’nna cum for me, pretty girl? hm?”

“fuck,” you whine, nearly at your peak. you honestly had no idea how good at dancing matthew was, but if he was half as good at dancing as he was at fucking, then even goddamn dick van dyke would be proud. your walls flutter around him, a chorus of moans as he pushes you over the edge.

“oh my god,” matthew rasps as you reach your climax, his thrusts growing more desperate and sporadic. “pussy’s so fucking perfect, baby. made me want you so bad, i—.”

he pulls out quickly, a few pumps before painting your cunt with his cum as he moans under his breath. he stares at the sight for a few moments before his head tilts thoughtfully and a smirk upturns a corner of his lips.

“something to share with the class?” you ask, one eyebrow piquing.

he laughs, shrugging at your prodding. “i was just thinking about how i definitely wouldn’t be the golden child anymore if anyone knew about this.”

“i dunno. i think somehow you’d still come out unscathed,” you say, shaking your head. “i must’ve tempted you. coerced you. blackmailed you.”

he smiles at you sadly. “listen, i know that... i know things must suck for you right now and—... i mean it when i say i’m gonna try my best to fix—.”

“matthew!”

you both freeze as the sound of your stepfather’s voice rings from downstairs. matthew clears his throat, calling back, “yeah?”

“come downstairs! aunt bethany wants to talk to you about visiting seoul.”

“okay!” matthew answers. he rolls his eyes. “i hate your aunt bethany.”

“you and me both, kid,” you reply, sitting up on your hands as matthew hurriedly gets dressed. “have fun.”

“come with me,” he requests, picking up your skirt from off the floor and holding it out to you. 

you consider it, but shake your head. “tell me if you hear any good gossip about me. i have to get ready for my shift anyway.”

“really? you’re gonna go strip after this?” matthew asks, lips parted in surprise.

“dance,” you correct. “i’m gonna go dance.”

he smiles. “when do you get back?”

“around one,” you answer, standing up and walking over to your vanity. “why?”

“my flight’s at midnight,” he says, biting his lip. your mascara clatters to the table as a tiny, annoying ball of disappointment forms in your chest. “so i guess i’ll catch you another time.”

you don’t say anything— just continue doing your makeup as you try to ignore that growing ball. 

“okay then,” matthew says finally, opening your door. “bye, (y/n).”

“my mom’s birthday is next month.”

the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. you don’t regret it.

“she likes you more than me, so,” you continue with as much nonchalance as you can feign. “she’d probably want to see you.”

matthew catches your eye through your mirror. he just smiles.

~ EPILOGUE ~

you clamber through your bedroom door in the dark, stilettos still on as you stumble into bed and flop onto it in exhaustion. you clap your hands— bedside light turning on as you reach for baby foxworth. you cradle him under your chin, squeezing him tight. suddenly, you remember the tear in his neck from when matthew had ripped him after dinner. 

you feel around for the hole, but are surprised when you find a crinkly, purple sticky note instead. on it, is written: 

told you i’m gonna try to fix everything.  — your favorite brother ;)

“disgusting,” you mutter under your breath, turning your attention back to baby foxworth’s neck hole. except...

there is no hole.

okay, matty, you think with a smile. let’s see what you’ve got.

[godhandler]

Rent A BF!

#1 | young toji fushiguro x reader | fluff, mentions of prostitution, aged and sometimes offensive terminology | 600 words

previous next series masterlist

31st December, 1995 | 11.57 AM  

Toji Fushiguro ran the moment he could. His 20th birthday was spent on the streets, the first of many. Children who run don’t get the luxury of carefully packing a bag with cheese and wine; Toji escaped with only the clothes on his back and burning hope in his young heart. 

His ass was freezing. The frost-slick footpath seeped through his jeans, the dew wet his cheeks, the beer did nothing to warm him up. But it was okay, in fact– he’d never felt better. He was finally, finally free. 

The only worry that pressed him as he watched the fireworks celebrating the end of the year and the beginning of another, a better one, hopefully, was this: he had to find a job now. 

January - March, 1996 

“No, you can’t substitute your Cola for a Cookie Milkshake. What do you mean ‘why?’ Lady, where on the menu do you see milkshakes? Exactly. We don’t make those. No, I can’t make an exemption for you, we-don’t-make-those. Just take your Cola for God’s sake. No, you’re not allergic to Cola. Oh yeah, I am calling you a liar… Fucking fine, meet the goddamn manager! Suck his dick off for all I care!”

“Aisle 5. Aisle 7. We don’t sell dildoes. Aisle 8. No, I will not step on you, you’re too grown to be saying that. Aisle 5, I already told you.”

“Man, I’m just the cashier. I don’t know shit about cars, how am I supposed to fix it? Alllllright, weird kink but if all you wanna do is watch while I play mechanic, I guess… Pay me 1000 yen more and off the book, okay? And you’re just watching from a distance.” 

“Ladies, I have to kick you out, no coke in the host club. It’s written right there in fucking bold letters. Get your–hands off me! I don’t care how much you wanna pay– Oh my God, fine! Fucking fine! Pay my rent and groceries for a month and you can do what you want! Jesus-Fucking-Christ!”

Toji’s descent into escort services wasn’t much to his joy nor consent. It was simply the job with the highest ROI and gas prices were going up. And he was only 20.

Not as bad as it used to be, standing on the footpath looking for takers like those 100 yen whores. Toji kicks a pebble along as he walks to the café you’ve decided for your first meeting. At least I didn’t wear red lipstick and stuff my bra. 

To any middle aged businessman rolling down the car window in search for the cheapest fuck for buck, Toji and the red-lipstick-stuffed-bra folks looked exactly the same: dirt alley Minami-Senju hookers. Smoking, yelling, shoving, squatting on the street corner. For the sake of his dignity he refused to add that he often sold himself for lesser than 100 yen. 

He grumbles: hey, it was a long time ago and I didn’t know what I was doing, alright? Look at me now, working for Perfect Princes. Do you even know how much this lady’s paid for me? 

Lost in thought, he almost walked past The Blessed Fortune Café. The abrupt stop and turn makes him accidentally kick the pebble, a faithful companion of his long journey, through the sewer vent. 

It clink-clank-thunks though the metal pipe and finally splashes! into the dirty stinking water. Dirty like you, whispers that voice in his head. Down the drain like any dignity you really had. 

He steps into the café, craning his head around looking for you. The receptionist said you’d wear red. 

previous next series masterlist

a/n: divider. baby faced toji my beloved i want to wrap him in a blankie and tell him everything will be okay.

[f1version]

SHAMELESS ★ PG10

pairing: jealous!pierre gasly x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

summary: Pierre is convinced his best friend is flirting with you, his girlfriend, and cannot stand it any longer.

Or this request

warnings: +18 MINORS DNI, slight smut (it’s my first one and english is not my native language please bare with me), fingering — female receiving, oral — female receiving, explicit language, swearing.

word count: 1.46k

note: doing this request was so much fun ! i hope y’all enjoy this little thing :)

Pierre's thoughts were a mess, he couldn't process what he was watching properly. He felt sick, something bitter spreading across every muscle of his body, making him think in ways he usually didn't. He tried organizing his thoughts:

One: He's an idiot.

Or that's what he has been calling himself over and over for the last 20 minutes, because he shouldn't feel like this. He shouldn't feel as if there was a reason to be worried about this.

Two: He's madly in love with you.

It had taken time, getting into a relationship with you, being long-time friends didn't make it easier, being best friends only made it harder, it was a risk he didn't want to take. Now, he's glad he did, but in this particular moment, he didn't know what to think about his other friendships.

Three: He is about to punch one of his best friends in the face.

Here's the thing: It's Charles's birthday, Pierre loves Charles, he is his best friend. Charles and you have been friends for as long as you and Pierre have, and that’s why the three of you are in a beautiful hotel venue, celebrating Charles' birthday with another hundred people. This is nothing out of his comfort zone.

Nevertheless, what he is witnessing is making him feel absurdly desperate and uncomfortable.

You and Charles have been talking for 43 minutes and counting —He doesn't even know why he is counting them— but that shouldn't be a problem because you are friends, right?

Well, friends don't look at other's girlfriend like that.

Charles is flirting with you, Pierre is one hundred percent sure of it. He's leaning in, telling you things that make you laugh, he talks and talks but when you do is like there's only you in this world.

Pierre is going to kill him.

But who could blame him? It wasn't Charles by himself that bother him, but the fact that the Monegasque knew you as well as he did. Not in the same way, but it was still triggering some thoughts.

Pierre was so focused looking at you, but he could feel someone calling him, whom he believes is Lando. It must be.

"Jesus, this man... Pierre!" Lando yells and the Frenchman jumps in shock. "What's wrong with you? Did you drink too much?"

Pierre didn't drink when he was thinking uncontrollably, overthinking was one of his biggest enemies. Lando knew this, but Pierre just shook his head. "Uh no, leave me alone"

"Mate" Lando called out "You are about to murder Charles out of jealousy, and you want me to leave you alone?"

"Jealousy? I'm not jealous. J'suis bon!"

"Sure," the Brit says with a smile, sarcastically.

"Shut up, Lando"

Lando grins, then sighs.

"She loves you, Pierre, she's not going to leave you. And if she is, it's not going to be for Charles, she wouldn't do that to either of you"

"That's not the problem, the problem is that my best friend is in love with her!"

Lando snorts, laughing "Oh mate, you are definitely drunk. Or you are seeing things" Pierre looks at him, deadpan. "You know I'm right, there is literally no in-love in Charlie's eyes"

He doesn't answer, he knows Lando is right, but he better be dead, cheated on, or betrayed than saying it.

"Just leave"

Lando rolls his eyes "Whatever, keep being stupid" He knows his friend is far too deep in his delusion. "I don't even know why I'm getting into this."

You could feel him. His stare, his anger, his jealousy.

It’s funny, your boyfriend being jealous of Charles Leclerc, his best friend. And yes, some would be right about this but you loved Pierre, he was the most gorgeous man in the world for you. Besides, Charles wasn't flirting with you —which Pierre certainly thought he was— he was drunk-talking, and you were his current victim.

You had no problem listening to Charles say the most stupid things, in the end, it was his birthday. But after half an hour, you felt the necessity to go drink something, dance a bit with Pierre, and maybe leave to have some fun with the Frenchman.

That's when the search begins, you try to hook other people into the conversation, yet everyone knows they won't be able to leave. Until Max appears.

Perfect. He was just as drunk, and he loved talking—Maxsplaining.

"Max!" You called and saw Pierre frowning from afar. "Party boy has a question for you!"

Max automatically walks to you two, smiling and looking wasted. "Really? What’s your question, Charles?"

"He just doesn't remember restart procedures!" You say with a little laugh.

"Holy shit. Okay, so you know when..." And he is far gone.

You wait at least five minutes before leaving, making sure none of the two men cares enough to hold you back from their shenanigans.

When you turn around, you see Pierre leaning on a wall. You notice how his face turns just before you look at him. This man.

You approach Pierre, he goes tense at your presence. You know he's holding back, holding emotions he doesn't want to let you know he's feeling; little does he know, you already have him figured out.

"Do you have to be so shameless about it?" you ask tilting your head a bit, more curious about his reaction than his actual response.

"I don't know what you're talking about" the Frenchman answered carelessly, not looking at you. His arms are crossed, and he looks frustrated. You shrug, a grin showing on your face.

Pierre couldn't think straight, he doesn't recall ever feeling like this. This jealous. And when he looked at you, he almost lost it. You didn’t only look gorgeous under the red and blue lights, but you looked so confident, he understood then that you had read him perfectly.

"You know, darlin'," you say while Pierre's eyes shamelessly touched your body. "You look hot when you're jealous."

But now Pierre looks exasperated. "I'm not jealous, I would never be jealous"

"Sure. Just make me a favor and don't become a toxic prick." You say, "Charlie had no intention to bed me, he was just drunk-talking"

Hearing the nickname, that's the exact moment when Pierre lost it. He grabs your hand and makes you sprint through the hotel, leaving the venue, and getting to the elevator.

You giggle.

"Oh, now you're laughing? After you fuck around like that?" He bursts, cocking his head to the side, eyes deep and challenging. You know the only thing behind him was desire.

"Yes," you reply innocently, moving your hands so they rest around his neck. "Is there a problem with that?"

"You are unbelievable. You got me all worked up and for what, your enjoyment?" Pierre rolls his eyes, holding you by your waist, tightly. He moves closer when he whispers into your ear, "I'll give you something to fucking enjoy, mon ange"

And then he kisses you.

It's harsh and hot, his hands are everywhere for a moment before he settles them on your thighs.

"Jump" he demands, and you can only comply, wrapping your legs around his torso, praying all gods that no one wishes to use the elevator right at this moment.

Pierre licks into your mouth, dragging his teeth over your skin, biting your lip, and suddenly it seems as if he's never going to be close enough, even when your bodies feel each other's warmth through the clothes.

The Frenchman felt a hundred thousand different things, he was hot, wanting, and mad, but also wanted to be gentle and remind you how good he was for you. How no one could come closer to this. He needed you to feel all the things he was, he needed to feel you around him, near him.

The elevator door opened, and you felt him shift. One hand moved across your ass to hold you with it alone, his other hand going for the room's key. When he opened, you cursed Charles for assigning them such a spacious suite.

Pierre seemed to be more stressed by it because he didn't bother to walk to the bedroom. Instead, he walked you to the counter in the middle of the kitchen, sitting you down, deepening the kiss while holding your face.

"This is what we're gonna do, mon chéri," he said into your mouth, "you are going to sit down here, be a good girl and I'll fuck this pussy with my fingers and mouth. Got it?"

You let out a whimper thinking about it and nodded, you needed to feel something, to feel him.

"Use your words, my love"

You struggle, especially because you feel how Pierre's mouth hovers over your neck, hot breath sending chills down your spine. "Yes, god, Pierre, I need you"

He doesn't waste more time, bunching up your shirt and pulling down the dark blue dress pants you had on. His eyes turn mischievous and dark —blue eyes turned black— as he sees your loose control.

"All night with him," Pierre says, tracing his finger over your core. Softly, teasing. "Just to become this beautiful wet mess with me." He emphasizes the last word by pressing onto your clit.

Your mouth parts, a loud moan leaving your lips. You can barely keep your eyes open, trying to focus on him, on his words, but the pleasure of the small friction is enough to distract you.

"You're so naughty," he says, grinning. "I love all these little sounds"

You try to stay composed, breathing deeply before saying, "You were so jealous, it was kind of pathetic, Gasly"

He whimpers, you knew exactly what to say to make him hard, in this case, harder.  "That is not fair," he complains. "He looked so into you, and you seemed into his bullshit"

"If his bullshit is going to get me here all the time, then fucking be it."

Pierre huffs, his knee moving forward to press onto your core, making you whine. You slide your hand through his hair, just as his hands go down and his fingers shove your panties aside to slowly start playing with your dripping folds.

You hear his breath hitch, his eyes never leaving yours. He kisses you, careless of how needy he may seem. You love it. "Pierre—"

His fingers find your clit, a soft cry leaves your mouth, shocked at how sensitive you were. It was dizzying, feeling him smirk into the kiss, knowing exactly where, how, and when to touch. His pace was slow and steady, but the way he kissed you told you he was ready to fuck you stupid.

"Pierre, do something, fuck." you plead when he didn't move his fingers, when he just kisses your neck, sucking and biting, teasing until you're begging for him to start doing something. "Please, please"

"Please what, ange?"

"Please fuck me, please— your fingers." And he palms hardly your clit, adrenaline overpowering him. His fingers start moving in small circles, and your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

"Oh my god, merde"

"Hmm, just like that, don't stop your beautiful noises," He says smirking, twirling his fingers just right. "Does that feel good, love?"

"Feels so so good." You say as his fingers speed, your desperate noises ricocheting down the walls.

He stops kissing you, looking at how you squirm below him. His eyes shout hunger, he is only a man whose desire asks him to give, give and give until you are fully satisfied.

Pierre stops teasing your clit, moving his hands to take off your underwear. The friction makes you cry.

A hand on your thigh spreads your legs a little wider, and he gives you a soft kiss before sinking onto his knees. You swear you've never seen him as hungry.

Your back arches the moment his mouth opens to lick your slit, your hands find his hair, and you pull him closer.

"Fuck. Y/n, ange, let me hear you" he asks, eyes closed and mouth pressed to your pussy, you obey, moaning and begging for more. He follows with the same obscene sounds, sending a rough vibration to your folds, enchanted with you.

"Pierre—" You whispered, his tongue curled around your clit. He loved when you called out his name. "Holy shit, I–"

"Yes, baby, yes" He moves to go for air, he wishes he shouldn't. "Tell me who makes you feel like this. Who's making you feel this good?"

Your thighs clench around him, your hand trying to hold onto him. "You" There's a gasp, loud and bold, "You, Pierre, it's only you"

He smiles in satisfaction, changing his mouth for fingers so he can kiss you for a moment.

And you can still feel the kiss when his mouth moves back to your pussy, making you jump in surprise, slightly closing your thighs around his head. He lets out a laugh, opening you again.

He moves a finger into the depth of your core, mouth still sucking and licking your clit. You loved when he did this, he knew it. He knew you too well.

"Pierre, m-merde" You could only whimper and scream his name, it was just Pierre. Pierre Pierre Pierre. Over and over again, until it was the only thing you could ever think about.

His tongue lapped against you, finger simultaneously curling into you. "F-fuck. Almost t-there, baby, I"

"I know, love, I know," He says, stopping for a second.

"Don't stop, don't fucking stop now" you whine, his tongue moving faster—a second finger entering you.

"C'mon, come for me. All for me" Pierre couldn't stop thinking about you, about making you feel so good you forgot everybody else in the world. "You're mine, aren't you? Tout à moi"

You could only moan in return, with desperate pleas—your body feeling the shock of the orgasm, white-hot and dense. Pierre's name was like a mantra stuck in your head, this was followed by yes yes yes, your answer would always be yes when asked that.

He stands up to kiss you sloppily; You feel your breaths slowing, synchronizing, your legs wrap around his waist, bringing him closer.

He smiles, watching you with adoration, the biggest heart-eyes you've ever seen. He was so dumb.

"Fuck your gorgeous face," you protested. "You really thought I would let Charles flirt with me? Better question, why would you think that Leclerc is flirting with me?"

"I was jealous, okay?" He rolls his eyes playfully, his hair a mess. "And y'know what? What if we forget that and finish this in bed?"

You laugh, of course you want more. You always more if it's with Pierre. "Lead the way"

translation (sorry anything is left out!)

ange angel

tout à moi all mine