#I drew this with only my finger and a screen and it took only 3 hours

[mildy-vibing]

I drew Sun holding a little critter. What is it?

A sun bear! They are the smallest species of bear and are native to Southeast Asia! They are called sun bears for the patch of fur on their chest! Thought he would like it since they share a name

Sun belongs to @owlygem and their comic Celestial Somebody! Honestly, I love the big dude and loved using all the cool colors like *chefs kiss*. Hope ya like it!

[sherewrytes]

Ex husband Eren:

warning: smut, angst and whatever else my mind can come up with on a whim :)Son's name is Lennox

word count: 14070

I didnt proof read this, i just wrote

Ex husband Eren:

Eren wasn't sure how he went from landing himself the best woman he ever had in his life. It wasn't only your looks that drew him in. It was the way you cared for him when no one in his life did. You were the first person to show him love, care, the works. Part of him knew he should've been around more; said I love you more. He knew the divorce was his fault in the end

but that being said, he is determined to make up for lost time.

your pov

Today is Eren's pick-up day for your 3-year-old son Lennox. he's splitting image of him. The only difference is he's tanner and has curly hair. You were well trying to wrangle your son to get ready to spend the usual 3 days with his father. "Lenny, baby, Mommy has to get you ready to go see Daddy" You watch him smile and run off screaming obviously thinking you both are playing a game.

Eren’s POV

Eren watched you through the screen door as you tried to keep up with Lennox, who was darting around the room like a flash of tan curls and excitement. He could still picture the last time he tried to wrangle the little guy, getting lost in his joy. Lennox was so much like you in spirit, so much like him in looks—a constant reminder of everything Eren could have had if he’d just been the man you deserved. But the past three months had been eye-opening, pushing him to reflect on what went wrong.

Now, more than anything, he wanted to show you that he could change.

Your POV

"Gotcha!" you exclaimed, finally scooping Lennox into your arms as he squealed and laughed. "All right, mister, let’s get you packed for Daddy’s place," you murmured, knowing Eren would be at the door any moment.

You felt the telltale rush of nerves every time he came by to pick Lennox up. But you knew what this was about: Eren’s endless excuses to linger, his almost-too-frequent “accidental” brushes against your hand when he passed you something, the way his gaze lingered on you just a bit too long. Even now, a small part of you couldn’t ignore the slight thrill that ran through you whenever he looked at you with that hungry, brooding expression.

When the doorbell rang, you opened it to find Eren, a faint smirk on his lips. He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes moving over you in a way that felt all too familiar.

Eren’s POV

As you stood there, holding Lennox on your hip, Eren couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over you. God, you hadn’t changed—you were still stunning, more so now, with a soft confidence he hadn’t appreciated enough before. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to play it cool, but every part of him screamed to close the gap, to reach for you.

After a few minutes of small talk, Eren, still standing close, tilted his head. “You know,” he began, lowering his voice as his fingers lightly grazed the bare skin of your arm, “if you’re free later, maybe we could talk. Just us. I’ve missed you, and…I think we both know there’s more to say.”

As Lennox wiggled away from your grip, he made a quick dash for the lamp on the side table. "Lennox," you sighed, moving to stop him, but Eren took the chance to gently nudge you aside, his hand lingering on your waist just a bit longer than necessary.

"I got this," he murmured, stepping forward to deal with your son, who was now pouting up at him with a little frown that looked way too familiar.

“Hey, Lenny, remember what I said last time? Lamps are not toys,” Eren scolded gently, lifting Lennox into his arms. His tone was calm, but firm, his gaze softening as Lennox’s pout deepened, looking almost identical to yours when you were annoyed with him. Eren couldn’t help the slight smirk that tugged at his lips as he saw your reflection in your son’s stubborn expression.

“He’s a handful,” you muttered, crossing your arms and trying not to notice how easily Eren handled Lennox. It was moments like these that reminded you of why you’d fallen for him, back when things were simpler, back when he wasn’t so…absent.

“Wonder where he gets it from,” Eren quipped, casting a sidelong glance in your direction. When you rolled your eyes again, he chuckled, that low sound you used to love. "What?" he challenged. "You know, you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Friends or not, that’s not something that changes."

A part of you wanted to brush it off, to laugh or scoff, but his voice was different this time—low and earnest, with a hint of regret and maybe something else. For a moment, it felt like you were back in the early days when he could sweep you off your feet with just a few words. You swallowed, trying to hold onto the resolve you’d built up over the past few months.

“Eren,” you started, keeping your tone firm. “You know why this doesn’t work anymore. We’re not the same people we were back then.”

He shifted, pulling Lennox close before meeting your gaze again. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss us. And it doesn’t mean I won’t try to fix things—no matter how long it takes.”

“You should go, Eren,” you said, your tone firm but with a hint of exasperation as you watched Lennox starting to rub his eyes. “You know he gets cranky if he doesn’t nap soon.”

Eren gave a sly smile, leaning just a little closer. “Or,” he replied softly, “I can just stay.”

“That’s not a good idea, Yeager.” You crossed your arms, trying to keep your tone steady, but his closeness made it difficult.

“Oh, so I’m ‘Yeager’ now? Not Eren?” His smirk widened, but there was something softer in his eyes. “Just my last name, huh?”

“It is your last name,” you shot back, holding your ground.

He let the silence linger, his gaze not wavering. “It’s yours as well,” he murmured, leaning even closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “Was, Eren. It was.”

The words hit him harder than he’d expected, and for a moment, he stood there, at a loss. Then he sighed, nodding and glancing down at Lennox, who had started nodding off in his arms. “Right. But it doesn’t have to be that way,” he said softly, almost to himself.

His words made your heart skip a beat, but you quickly shook it off. "That’s in the past," you replied, taking Lennox gently from his arms and feeling the warmth of Eren's lingering touch. "Just…take him for the weekend, Eren.”

Eren nodded, but his hand reached out, his fingers brushing yours for just a moment. “I’ll see you soon.” He left with a final, lingering glance, and as the door shut, you couldn’t help but wonder if the past was as distant as you tried to make it.

Eren strapped Lennox into his car seat in his Matte black G wagon Lennox was giggling and smiling in the back seat heading back to his place. Eren wishes he didn’t have to leave their… y/n’s home.

Later, as the kids finally passed out after an eventful evening spent with Onyankapon's daughter Rummie and Connie’s son, Connie Jr., Eren sat around with the guys, unwinding with a couple of drinks. Inevitably, the conversation turned to wives and relationships, as it always did—except this time, Eren felt the strange, familiar sting of being the only single one in the room.

Ony smirked, scrolling through his phone. “Kaylah’s out clubbing tonight,” he muttered.

“Her too,” Connie chimed in. “Solene’s going with her.”

Ony shrugged. “Yeah, I heard they’re all going to that new place, Paradia. They even convinced Y/N to go.”

Eren’s jaw tightened at the mention of your name. “Wait. Who’s going?”

Ony shook his head, already seeing where this was going. “Not this again, Eren. Leave her alone, man.”

“Nah, nah, I just asked a question,” Eren muttered defensively, but there was an edge in his voice.

Ony glanced at him, exasperated. “That’s why she left your ass in the first place.”

Eren’s eyes darkened as he set down his drink. “And what do you even know about my marriage, huh?”

Ony didn’t back down. “More than you, apparently, ‘cause Y/N’s been complaining about your shit for years.”

Connie raised a hand, trying to de-escalate. “Yo, Ony, chill—”

But Ony wasn’t stopping. “Nah, someone’s gotta tell him.”

Eren clenched his jaw, barely able to keep his temper in check. “Tell me what, man?”

Connie sighed, glancing at Eren with a mixture of frustration and pity. “Eren, look—you’ve been neglecting her for years. Choosing to hang with us instead of being home with her, ignoring her calls when she’s just checking in…arguing over money when you both know that’s not even an issue for either of you. You act like she doesn’t mean anything to you, like she’s just there. You want me to go on?”

Eren was silent, his fists clenched, staring at the floor as their words started to sink in. He knew, deep down, that they were right. And yet, hearing it laid out like that hit him harder than he’d expected.

Ony didn’t hold back, his voice steady but with an edge that cut deep. “And let’s not forget about that toxic-ass friend of yours. The one who kept telling you to bail on her, hyping you up to act like she didn’t matter. You listened to him, man. When she needed you the most, when her dad was sick, you bailed. She went through that whole thing alone. You didn’t show up, didn’t even check in on her.” Ony shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and disappointment. “You’re a real…fuck-ass nii—”

He cleared his throat, almost laughing bitterly. “We’ve talked about this with you for years. Hell, you even got into it with her brother because of that same ‘friend’—the one you let threaten her. Your wife, bro! And now, you wanna act mad because she’s out having fun, living her life?”

Eren tried to brush it off, tried to hold onto that defensive anger, but each word chipped away at the front he’d put up. Ony leaned in, eyes sharp. “How do you plan to fix any of that, huh?”

Eren looked down, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table, Ony’s words echoing in his mind. “She met you when you had nothing, man. Look at your life now. She’s the one who was there, lifting you up, pushing you forward, making sure you had everything you needed. And how’d you repay her? By being a…a fuck-ass loser, gaming ‘til 3 a.m., blowing her off when she needed you the most.”

Eren clenched his jaw, the reality hitting him like a punch to the gut. He tried to keep his cool, but Ony wasn’t done.

“And now you’re saying you want her back? Now that she’s gone, you finally wanna try?” Ony’s voice softened, but the disappointment was clear. “Man, she’s out there living her life. You’re gonna have to do a hell of a lot more than just ‘want her back’ if you even think about being part of it again.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Eren muttered, struggling to find his footing. “I was dealing with a lot—”

Connie scoffed, shaking his head. “And you think she wasn’t? She married you, gave you a son, helped you get on your feet, twice. She was right there with you through everything. And what does she get? A husband who thinks she’s supposed to be grateful just ‘cause you didn’t cheat?”

Ony shook his head, his expression hardening. “Nah, man. You’re a full-on waste man. We’ve been your boys for years, telling you about this for years. But it’s like talking to a wall. You’re still friends with that toxic ass Elijah, aren’t you?”

Eren shifted uncomfortably, but Connie cut him off before he could respond.

“Did you even know he drove by your house talking wild about her when she was pregnant with Lenny?” Connie’s eyes bore into Eren’s, a rare mix of anger and disbelief on his face. “He was saying she’s gotta go, talking reckless, wishing her dead, man. And she told you about it, and what did you do? Took his side. You chose that trash over her, the woman carrying your son, the woman who’s been down for you from day one.”

Eren’s face darkened, guilt and anger mixing as he listened. He wanted to say something, anything, but the weight of his friends’ words left him speechless.

“Your own cousins had to step in to protect her,” Ony added, leaning back with a scoff. “And you? You did nothing. Didn’t even stand up for her. And now, here you are, mad that she’s finally out there living her life, trying to be happy. Man…fuck outta here with that.”

Eren swallowed hard, feeling the truth of every word, the silence that followed thick and suffocating. He could feel the resentment in the room—a long-standing frustration that had finally boiled over. And for the first time, Eren realized how far he’d let things slip away, and how much he’d lost in the process.

Eren leaned back in his chair, his hands running through his hair in frustration, his voice thick with regret. “Man,” he muttered, the weight of it all sinking in. “I messed up. I know I messed up. But… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Ony’s eyes narrowed, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. “Messed up? That’s an understatement, bro. How you gon’ be around a man who threatened your wife, huh? She wasn’t your ex-wife, not even your girl—your wife, man. How you gonna fix that?”

Eren opened his mouth to reply, but Ony wasn’t done. “You had a chance to protect her. To stand up for her. And you chose to do nothing. You don’t just get to walk back into her life like nothing happened.”

Connie leaned back, taking a swig of his drink, then sighed, shaking his head. “Ony, man, you’re wasting your breath. Look at him.” He gestured toward Eren, a sharp bitterness in his voice. “Eren cares about Eren. It’s obvious Y/N ain’t mean that much to him anyway.”

Eren’s chest tightened at Connie’s words, but he tried to defend himself. “She does, man, she—”

Ony cut him off with a harsh scoff, leaning forward. “E, tell it to someone who cares.” He let the silence sit for a moment before continuing. “You think you can fix this with a couple of ‘I’m sorry’s’? With a text, or showing up when it’s convenient for you? Nah, man. You’ve gotta do the work, and you didn’t.”

The sting of their words hit harder than anything physical, and Eren slumped back in his chair, the anger, regret, and frustration churning inside him. The realization that he had lost her—and possibly them—for good was something he wasn’t ready to accept. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure how to make things right. He wasn’t even sure where to start.

Connie’s words hit hard, slicing through the room like a cold wind. He sighed, his tone heavy with frustration. “Why do you even still hang with that man, bro? Did you ever love Y/N, or was she just convenient ‘cause she loved you when no one else did?”

Eren froze, unable to respond right away. The question hung in the air, burning like a brand. His mind raced, but all that came out was silence. He knew Connie was right—he had let Elijah stick around for way too long, even though he’d known for years that the guy was trouble. He’d always had issues letting go of things, of people. But now, hearing it out loud, it made him feel like a fool.

And then, just as the tension threatened to suffocate him, Eren laughed—bitterly, almost hysterically. "Y/N told me this would happen. That she'd leave. She told me everything...but I have to repay her for everything she did for me, man." His voice wavered, but he tried to hold onto some semblance of pride.

Ony didn't buy it. “Maybe you can repay her by letting her go, Eren. Stop holding on like this is something you can fix by force.”

Eren’s heart slammed against his chest, panic bubbling inside him. “I can’t do that, man. I love her,” he said firmly, almost pleading, as though saying it out loud would make it true.

Connie burst out laughing, the sound sharp and mocking. “You’re funny, man,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You love her? You’ve been so busy with everything else that you didn’t even see her. You can’t just love someone when it’s convenient, bro. Love is action, not words.”

Eren’s laugh faltered. It was like a cold splash of water, the reality sinking in. He could say all the right things, but he knew it didn’t matter if he didn’t change, if he didn’t prove it. He was losing her, and the regret was like an anchor weighing him down.

Ony’s voice was low and steady. “If you love her, you need to let her be. Let her have the space she needs to breathe again. You can’t fix what’s broken by holding onto it too tight.”

But Eren wasn’t ready to hear that. Not yet. Not when everything inside him screamed to fight for her, to make it right somehow.

“I’m not ready to let her go,” he muttered, the words feeling like a confession he wasn’t proud of. “But I don’t know how to make things right either.”

Slight time skip.

The weekend with Lennox passed by in a blur, each moment spent with his son pulling Eren deeper into the quiet realization of how much he had messed up. Lennox was so full of life, so innocent, and every laugh, every hug, every small gesture made Eren’s chest ache with regret. He watched the way his son looked at him, as if he was the most important person in the world, and it made him realize how much he had taken for granted.

You had given him everything. When he could barely afford to feed himself, you made sure he ate. You were the one who supported him when he had nothing, when his dreams were just that—dreams. You fed him, clothed him, and helped him build a life, and he had been too blind to see it. You took away all his burdens, but in return, it seemed like he had left you with nothing but more.

Later that night, after Lennox had fallen asleep in his room, Eren found himself scrolling through your Instagram. He tried not to, but his fingers betrayed him as they tapped on the screen, his eyes scanning through the pictures and videos from your night out. You looked happy. You looked free, laughing with friends, living a life that didn’t include him.

The pang of guilt hit him again. It stung more than he expected. You had always been beautiful, but now, in these pictures, it was different. You looked so alive, so at peace. And it hit him hard—you never really smiled with him. Not like that. The way you smiled in these photos, the way you were carefree and glowing, was something he hadn’t seen in a long time. It was as if all the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders, and for the first time in a long time, you were truly yourself again.

Eren’s heart twisted in his chest. He had been so focused on himself, on his struggles, that he hadn’t even noticed how much he had drained you. How much he had left you to carry on your own while he just kept taking.

The thought of how much he had messed up, how much he had hurt you, hit him like a ton of bricks. You had given him everything, and he had given you nothing in return—not even the basic decency of truly being there. He had let you go, and now you were living your life, and he was left with nothing but regret.

His finger hovered over the screen, a text message to you sitting in his drafts, but he couldn't bring himself to send it. The words seemed empty, not enough to fix what he had broken.

Eren sighed, setting the phone down on the counter. The weight of his mistakes hung heavy in the air, suffocating him.

Your POV

You hadn’t heard from Eren all weekend, and to be honest, you were kind of relieved. The quiet had been nice, but it wasn’t without its own weight. You missed your little boy, Lennox, more than you cared to admit. The house felt too empty without him running around, causing chaos, or asking you a thousand questions. It was strange, the silence.

You figured if you called his iPad, he’d ignore the call as usual—typical Lenny. You chuckled to yourself, rolling your eyes. “Bad ass kid,” you muttered under your breath, but the thought of him made you smile despite yourself.

With a sigh, you decided to call Eren directly instead. Maybe, just maybe, you could talk to him about Lennox’s day. It’s not like you expected any real conversation, but you knew Eren wouldn’t ignore you. He picked up after three rings.

His face appeared on the screen, and you could immediately tell he was exhausted. Dark circles were under his eyes, his hair a little disheveled, and his expression was heavy.

“What’s up with you? Lenny wear you out with his antics?” you asked, trying to sound lighthearted, but there was a softness to your tone, a mix of concern and amusement. “I told you, he’s a handful.”

Eren let out a tired sigh, rubbing his face. “Lemme guess,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion. “You called his iPad and he ignored you?”

You snorted. “You know he’s bad. You really think he’s gonna pick up for me?”

Eren’s eyes flickered for a second, a small, tired grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “He gets that from you,” he said, the words almost too quiet, like a fleeting moment of honesty.

“Yeah, right,” you said with a sarcastic smile, but your voice softened. “Put my son on the phone. I miss my baby.”

Eren hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. Then, with a quiet exhale, he shifted his camera and called out to Lennox, his voice a little more gentle. "Lenny, come here, bud. Mommy’s on the phone."

You waited eagerly, your heart tightening in your chest as you saw Lennox’s little face pop up on the screen. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you, and his smile made everything feel right again, if only for a moment.

"Mommy!" he exclaimed, his tiny hands reaching for the screen. "I miss you!"

Your heart melted. "I miss you too, baby," you said, voice soft, a smile tugging at your lips. "How’s your weekend with Daddy?"

He started talking a mile a minute, telling you about his time with Eren, his adventures with his toys, and all the little things he’d been up to. It wasn’t much, but to you, it was everything. It was the little pieces of him that made you feel close, even if you couldn’t be there with him.

Eren watched the exchange quietly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to watch Lennox. There was something in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just tiredness, not just exhaustion—there was a depth there, a mix of regret and yearning that made your chest tighten. But for now, you pushed that aside, just grateful to see your son smiling, happy, and alive on the other side of the screen.

You listened intently as Lennox babbled on about his day, your heart swelling with every word. The way he spoke with such enthusiasm, like the world was his playground. It was one of those moments where, despite everything that had changed, you could still find a piece of normalcy in the way he talked about his little world.

"And then when I woke up, Daddy was talking to Unca Connie and Unca Ony about mommy," Lennox said, his voice full of innocence as he continued recounting his weekend.

Your smile faltered for a brief second, and you looked at Eren. His expression was unreadable, but the way he was holding the phone, the slight stiffening of his posture, made something stir inside you. You raised an eyebrow, a playful yet pointed look on your face. "Oh, really?" you asked, curiosity mixing with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yah," Lennox said matter-of-factly, not picking up on the weight in the conversation. "Apparently they made Daddy look really sad. But then I watched Coco Melon with Rummie and CJ."

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. "Coco Melon," you mused, "the cure for all things, huh?"

Eren didn’t respond right away. He just stared at the screen for a moment, his gaze briefly flicking between you and Lennox. You could tell he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the conversation Lennox had just mentioned. It made your chest tighten a little, but you didn’t press it. Not yet, anyway.

Lennox, oblivious to the shift in the conversation, turned his attention to Eren with a sudden change of subject. "I want snacks, Daddy," he said, his voice demanding, just like any three-year-old who had a sudden craving.

Eren blinked, snapping back to the moment. He gave a small chuckle, the smile on his face genuine but tired. "Alright, alright, buddy," he said, his voice soft as he looked at his son. "I’ll get you something."

You could see the change in him when he looked at Lennox—his walls softening, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he focused on his son. It made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. You were reminded of the man he used to be, the man you had fallen for, even if it felt like a lifetime ago.

"How about some fruit and crackers?" Eren offered, his voice light as he moved toward the kitchen, still holding the phone.

Lennox’s face lit up. "Yay!" he cheered, clapping his little hands.

You smiled fondly at the interaction, but your mind was still spinning from what Lennox had said earlier. Eren had been talking about you with Connie and Ony? You wondered what exactly they had said to him. What had made Eren so sad?

Before you could dwell too much on it, Lennox’s attention returned to you, his voice suddenly small. "Mommy, when can I come home?"

The question hit you unexpectedly. Your heart twisted, and you had to swallow the lump that formed in your throat. "Soon, baby," you said, keeping your voice steady, though your eyes felt a little warmer than usual. "You’ll be back with Mommy before you know it."

You caught Eren looking at you for a moment, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place. It was hard to tell if it was regret, guilt, or maybe just the weight of everything between you two. But for now, you held on to the moment, the quiet peace of seeing your son so happy.

Eren watched as Lennox dashed off toward the living room to grab his iPad, making zoom noises with each step, completely oblivious to the tension building in the room. He sighed, leaning back against the counter as he rubbed his forehead. "I don't know where he gets all this energy from," he muttered, a small, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips as he watched Lennox run off.

You didn't let him linger on the moment for long. You weren’t in the mood for small talk or pretending that everything was fine. Cutting straight to the heart of the matter, you asked, "You talking about me with Connie and Ony, Eren?"

His smile faltered, and his shoulders tensed. He didn’t look at you immediately, eyes flicking toward Lennox before finally settling on you. There was a moment of hesitation before he sighed again, his voice dropping to a more serious tone.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice almost too quiet. "They were... trying to talk some sense into me. You’ve been on my mind a lot, and they know it."

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the emotion that surfaced at his words. Part of you was relieved that he wasn’t trying to dodge the question, but the rest of you felt a tightness in your chest. You pressed your lips together, fighting the urge to snap, trying to keep your voice steady as you asked, "And what exactly did they say?"

Eren ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his posture. "They… they made me realize a lot of things I didn’t want to face. About us. About how I treated you." His gaze flickered toward the ground, as if he couldn’t quite look you in the eye as he said it. "I messed up, Y/N. I know I did. And I didn’t want to hear it from them, but... they’re right."

You took in a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "I’m not here to listen to your excuses, Eren," you said, your voice softer but firm. "I’m not some… I’m not some lesson to be learned from your friends. You had the chance to make it right a long time ago."

Eren nodded slowly, the weight of his regret sitting heavily between you both. "I know," he said, his voice low, like he was ashamed to say it aloud. "I didn’t show up when I should have. I was so caught up in myself, I didn’t see how much you were doing for me. For us. You were right... you deserved better than that."

The words hit you harder than you expected. There was so much history between you, so many moments you’d both buried under years of silence and unspoken resentment. But hearing him admit it, even just a little, stirred something in you—something that made you hesitate before responding.

"You don’t get to just fix it all with a few words, Eren," you said, your heart beating a little faster. "I’m not your savior anymore. You chose all this."

Eren’s eyes softened, guilt flooding his gaze. "I know, and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I’m trying, Y/N. I really am. I’m not asking for you to come back, or anything like that. But I need to show you that I can be better, that I can do right by you and Lennox."

For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, the weight of everything lingering in the space between your words. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but after everything that had happened, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late for that kind of redemption.

But then, as if to interrupt the tension in the room, Lennox came bounding back into the kitchen, holding up his iPad triumphantly. "I got it, Mommy!" he cheered.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, his energy pulling you out of the heavy silence. Eren’s gaze softened again as he watched Lennox, and for a brief second, you saw the man he used to be—the one who had cared, who had loved. The one who still wanted to do right by his son.

You exhaled slowly, giving him a small nod. "You’ve got a lot to prove, Eren. But for now, let’s just focus on him." You pointed to Lennox, who was eagerly awaiting your attention.

Eren nodded, his expression quiet but resolute. "I will. I promise."

You said your goodbyes to Eren and Lenny. Eren asked if he can keep Lennox longer, you said you will call him back later with an answer. you then called up your group.

You leaned back against the counter as you listened to the back-and-forth in your group chat. The sound of their voices was comforting, a small reminder that you weren’t going through this alone. But the frustration, the anger, that still lingered inside of you came to a head with Jaynae’s words.

Jaynae didn’t hold back, as always, but her words were sharp and right on target. "Eren is a fuck ass white boy..." she started, and you could hear the anger in her voice. "Like Y/N doesn't know. What has he done for Y/N really? Nothing, even now, he’s stressing her about how he cares now and shit... fuck him, and I’m saying that bold."

Solene quickly jumped in, trying to tone things down. "Jay, don’t say that. We’re all feeling this way, but you don’t need to be that harsh."

Reiner’s voice cut through the background, low and calm, as he spoke to his wife. "Babe, relax." You could hear the concern in his voice, but Jaynae wasn’t having it.

You stared at your phone for a moment, absorbing everything they said. The anger in their voices mirrored what you had been feeling for so long. But part of you didn’t want to hear it from them, even though you knew it was the truth. You knew it deep down. You were so tired of carrying the weight of Eren’s actions. So tired of forgiving him every time he came crawling back.

You spoke up, your voice steady but strained. "I didn’t want to tell you guys this, but Lennox said something tonight." You heard them go silent, waiting for you to continue. "He said that when Eren was talking to Connie and Ony, he sounded really sad, like he felt bad about everything. He said he was talking about me and how he messed up."

Kaylah was the first to respond, her voice soft but knowing. "So Eren finally gets it. Took him long enough."

Solene agreed with a sigh, adding, "Doesn’t matter, though. He doesn’t know how much you cried over his shit. How many nights you spent worrying about him, about the future of your family, while he was out there… just not caring."

You didn’t know what to say. Part of you wanted to defend him—because, in a way, you always did—but the truth was, you couldn’t anymore. You had given him enough chances, let him back in more times than you cared to count, only for him to mess it up again.

Jaynae’s anger was palpable through the phone. "He doesn’t get to come back and act like he cares now. He fucked up. And I don’t care if he finally understands or not. It’s too little, too late." Her words hit you hard, but you knew she was right.

You felt a pang of guilt for not being able to protect yourself sooner, for not realizing how much damage had been done. You’d let him back into your life each time, hoping things would be different, but they never were.

Reiner’s voice cut through the chaos of emotions. "Babe, relax. We know you’re mad, but yelling isn’t going to fix it."

Jaynae let out a frustrated huff, but she seemed to take Reiner’s advice. "Fine. But Eren needs to hear this. He needs to know that this isn’t just about him feeling bad. It’s about the years of bullshit he put you through. The neglect. The selfishness."

You nodded, even though no one could see you. "Yeah. It’s about time he realized it, but I don’t know if I can just forgive him, even if he gets it now."

Kaylah’s voice was warm, understanding. "Don’t force yourself to, Y/N. You’ve done enough for him. It’s his turn to make things right, but you don’t owe him forgiveness if you’re not ready for it."

Solene agreed, adding, "You have to do what’s best for you and Lennox. Don’t let him back in unless you truly feel he’s worth it."

You felt a small bit of relief in their words. You weren’t alone in this. You didn’t have to make this decision on your own. Your friends, your support system, were there, reminding you that you were allowed to be angry, to take time, and to protect yourself.

"I’ll call him back later," you said, finally. "But I don’t know what to tell him. I can’t just… go back to how things were. Not after everything."

Jaynae’s voice softened. "Do what you need to do, girl. We’ve got your back, no matter what."

You smiled slightly, feeling the weight of the support from your friends. Maybe you didn’t have to figure everything out tonight. Maybe you just needed time to breathe, to think, and to make sure that whatever decision you made, it would be the one that was right for you and Lennox.

For now, you just needed to focus on him, the only person who had been there for you through everything. And that was enough.

You sometime after the call to clean up the house, put away Lennox's toys and do a quick target run. your car was in the shop so you had to Uber there. Part of you with Lennox was here right now, he loved you guys' lil target runs. while picking up his lil snacks and stuff for yourself. You heard someone say, Mommy, you follow the voice to see Lennox running towards you and Eren not too far behind.

You stood there for a moment, the sight of Eren and Lennox in their matching sweat suits catching you off guard. The last thing you expected was to see Eren, out of the blue, walking toward you with a cart full of healthy snacks and juices for Lennox. You had come to Target for a quick run, and now you had to face him—looking tired, a little off, but still... there, with your son.

Lennox was practically bouncing with excitement, running up to you with a wide grin on his face. "Mommy!" he called out, his voice full of joy as he wrapped his tiny arms around your legs.

You bent down to hug him back, smiling despite the tension that was bubbling inside you. "Hey, baby," you said softly, trying to hide the little knot of unease that had started forming in your stomach. You glanced up at Eren, who was standing not far behind, pushing a cart of what looked like the same things you had in yours. Healthy snacks, juices... the usual, but with a few extras. The toy car was definitely a surprise.

Lennox pulled back from you, eyes sparkling as he tugged at your sleeve. "Daddy took me to get snacks, Mom, and a new toy car! I want a big one! Can I get a big one?" he said, excitement practically radiating off of him.

You glanced at the toy aisle in the distance, then back at Eren, who simply shrugged as if to say, "What can I do?" You raised your eyebrows at him, silently asking, Where is he going to put that thing?

Eren gave you a tired smile, his shoulders slumping slightly as he looked at you and then at Lennox, who was practically bouncing on his heels in anticipation. "Let’s get a smaller one for now, okay?" he said gently to Lennox, who immediately pouted but nodded his agreement.

Lennox’s little face scrunched up in disappointment, but he obeyed, knowing that once he got to pick something, it would be hard to say no to him.

Eren then looked over at you, his expression soft but tired. "Want me to take over for a bit? Just add the stuff in your cart to mine, and I’ll finish it up for you," he offered, his voice low but calm.

For a moment, you hesitated. Part of you wanted to refuse, wanting to maintain your independence, but then you saw the exhaustion in his face. You couldn't help but feel a tiny pang of sympathy for him, despite everything. He looked like he was trying, but... was he really?

You glanced at your cart, the small stack of things you had grabbed already, and then back at Lennox, who was happily distracted by a row of toy cars. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let him help for once, especially when you had your hands full with so much already.

"Fine," you said, keeping your tone neutral, but there was something in the way you said it that made Eren pause for just a second. You added the items in your cart to his, keeping your gaze on Lennox as he fidgeted and glanced between the two of you. "Just don’t go overboard with the snacks this time, okay?" You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

Eren nodded, pushing the cart a little closer to yours. "I won’t," he promised, though his voice held a hint of the same weariness that was obvious in his posture.

It felt odd—standing here with him in Target, talking about mundane things like toys and snacks when just the other day you could barely stand being in the same room with him. Yet, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was an attempt, some small sign that he was trying to make things right. But was it enough? Was he enough?

You couldn’t let your guard down just yet, even if you wanted to.

You and eren walked through the aisles, picking up stuff for your son's and your respective houses. You paused for a moment as Eren casually placed another item in the cart without asking, his fingers brushing yours ever so slightly. The simple gesture brought a flood of mixed emotions that you quickly shoved down. You'd been trying to keep your distance from him, both physically and emotionally, but somehow—here you were. Walking the aisles of Target with him, the man who had been a stranger in your life not so long ago, doing things for you without hesitation, like it was just another day in the world you used to share.

You gave him a sideways glance. "You don’t have to do that. I can handle my own, you know?" you said softly, though you didn’t move to take the item out of the cart.

He didn’t look at you right away, but his voice was low and steady when he responded. "I know you can, babe...Y/N...but just… let me, okay?"

The way he said your name, soft but insistent, made something in your chest tighten. You didn’t respond right away. Part of you wanted to insist on doing everything yourself, as you always had. But another part of you—something deep down—wanted to let him help. To let him in. To stop carrying the weight of everything all on your own.

Before you could process any more of that, you heard Lennox laughing and shouting as he ran ahead of you both, waving snacks in his tiny hands at strangers and telling them, "Hi!" like they were his best friends.

"Hey!" you called after him, but it was no use. He was already off, running toward the next group of people to share his little treats with. You couldn’t help but smile, even though you were mentally trying to corral him from a distance.

Eren watched him for a moment before turning to you, his gaze more serious now, and you could feel the weight of what he was about to say. "You’re doing a great job with him," he said, his voice softer than usual. "You know that, right?"

You paused, trying not to let the compliment make you feel anything more than what it was—just words. But it still hit you in a way you didn’t expect. You’d been doing everything for Lennox on your own for so long, putting in the work and making sure he was always taken care of, even when it felt like you were running on empty. To hear it from him—it was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

"Thanks," you said quietly, your eyes briefly meeting his. "It’s not easy, but I try. He’s worth it."

Eren didn’t reply right away, but you saw the look in his eyes—a mix of regret, pride, and maybe even something else you couldn’t place. The whole situation felt surreal. Maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to understand the weight of everything you’d been carrying.

But before you could get lost in your thoughts, Lennox came running back, face lit up with excitement as he tugged on your sleeve. "Mommy! Mommy! I want this one!" He showed you a toy car, the same one he'd pointed out earlier.

You smiled at your son’s enthusiasm, even as you glanced at Eren, who was still standing beside you, silently watching the exchange. You could almost feel his presence like a quiet support, as if he was trying to be part of this moment with you. Trying to fix things, even if it was just in little ways.

"Alright, Lenny," you said, leaning down to his level. "Let’s grab it and then we can get going. Daddy and I still have some shopping to finish."

Eren’s voice cut through before you could get back up. "Let me take care of the toy. You grab the rest."

You met his eyes again, studying his face for any hint of insincerity, but there was nothing there. Just that tired, yet genuine look.

After a moment, you gave in, nodding. "Okay."

It wasn’t about the toy. It wasn’t about the groceries. It was about this—this moment where you were both trying to figure out what came next. Trying, in your ways, to make things work for Lennox. Maybe, just maybe, it was enough for now.

You were finally up at the register, you went to tell the cashier to pass you a divider to separate your items and Eren stopped you and paid and handled everything.

 Eren pushed the cart out with Lenny sitting it looking a lil sleepy. 

Eren asked 'Where are you parked."

 "My car is in the shop." 

Eren sighed. Lemme drop you home then "Eren it's fine I'll call an uber." Eren eyed you up and down and put all the items in the car while strapping Lennox in the car seat "Just get in yn...please"

You hesitated, your hand still hovering over your phone to call an Uber, but the look Eren gave you made you pause. His expression was somewhere between pleading and frustration, like he didn’t want to leave you to handle everything on your own. You could feel the weight of the moment—his insistence, the tension between you two that had never really gone away, no matter how much you tried to distance yourself.

You looked down at Lennox, who was already half-asleep in the cart, his little head drooping as he fought to stay awake. You knew you’d have to carry him from the cart to the car anyway, so maybe it would be easier just to let Eren drop you off.

"Please, Y/N," Eren repeated, his voice quieter now. "Just get in. I’m not trying to do anything. I just want to make sure you and Lenny get home safe."

His words caught you off guard, but there was sincerity in them. You could see it in the way he was carefully placing the bags in the trunk and strapping Lennox into the car seat, like he was trying to make up for everything that had happened.

You sighed, feeling a mix of exhaustion and confusion. The old part of you—the part that used to rely on him—wanted to say yes, wanted to just accept his help. But there was still that wall between you, that part of you that had been hurt too many times to let go easily.

"I don’t need you to do this, Eren," you said, your voice soft but firm. "I can handle it on my own."

Eren stood up, closing the trunk, and gave you a look that was almost... sad. His eyes lingered on you for a moment before he spoke again, this time more quietly. "I know you can. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help, Y/N. Let me do this."

You glanced at him, searching his face for any hint of insincerity, but all you saw was exhaustion and... maybe regret? You didn't know if it was enough to make you let go of your pride, but you could tell he wasn’t going to push any further.

With a sigh, you gave in, finally nodding. "Fine."

Eren’s face softened, relief flashing across his features, but he didn’t say anything more. He simply opened the passenger door for you and waited, stepping aside to let you in.

You climbed in, shutting the door behind you, and Eren quickly got in on the other side. As he started the car, the familiar hum of the engine filling the space between you, he didn’t say anything for a while. He seemed focused on the road, both hands gripping the wheel, his jaw tight as though he was holding something back.

Lennox was still half-conscious in the backseat, his little voice murmuring softly as he tried to stay awake. The car was quiet except for the sound of the road and your son's occasional mumble, but the silence between you and Eren felt different this time. Less cold, maybe even a little softer.

You couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything—the past, the present, the things left unsaid. But for now, you let it go, and for the first time in a long while, you just allowed yourself to be in this moment.

Eren's pov 

She fell asleep in the passenger seat of my car. I took out my phone and took a picture of her then one of Lennox passed out in the back seat. I felt terrible.

While I was out there acting like yn didn't mean anything to me, putting fake friends above her. All she ever did was love me and try to learn to love me when I didn't love myself. 

Eren’s heart tightened in his chest as he stared at the photos on his phone. He didn’t care that it felt wrong to snap the pictures without her knowing—he had to see it. He had to remind himself of what he lost, of the love that had once been so constant in his life and now felt like a distant memory. The photo of Y/N, peaceful in the passenger seat, her hair falling across her face as she slept, made the guilt burn in his stomach. She looked so... content—something he hadn't given her in so long.

He stared at Lennox in the rearview mirror. His son, just like him, already fighting sleep, but the exhaustion won out. The sight of Lennox sleeping soundly made the pain cut even deeper. He wasn’t just hurting Y/N; he was hurting their son. Their family.

This is what I lost.

The words echoed in his mind, over and over, until they burned into his skull. He’d made a mess of everything. While he had been out there, pretending he didn’t need her, letting people like Elijah cloud his judgment and get in his head, Y/N had been there—always there. Loving him in the way that only she could. And what did he do? He pushed her away, took her for granted, chose everything and everyone else over her, and watched her slowly break apart.

What did she even see in him? What kind of man was he, that he let something so real slip away?

He turned the wheel, taking the turn toward her house, his fingers gripping the wheel with a mixture of desperation and regret. He didn’t know what else to do, or what to say. Words felt useless now. He had to show her, somehow, that he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right. If she’d even let him.

But the thought of her moving on without him, of him being just another chapter in her past, gnawed at him. He hated it. The thought of her smiling, truly smiling, with someone else—someone who could love her the way she deserved—was unbearable.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, and he forced the thoughts away.

No. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

He glanced over at Y/N, still asleep beside him, her breathing slow and steady. She had always been so strong—too strong for her own good. He didn’t deserve her, but he wasn’t going to let her go without fighting for her. This time, he wasn’t going to fuck it up. This time, he was going to show her that he saw her. That he valued her. That he loved her.

It was time to stop being the man who kept running away from his own feelings. It was time to be the man who could fight for the woman he loved.

The woman he still loved.

Your pov

He woke you up gently, letting me know he was here, his voice soft enough not to wake Lennox. You watched as he unstrapped Lenny from his car seat, carefully lifting him into his arms, his hands steady as he held our son close. He carried him inside with that effortless ease, like it was the most natural thing in the world, then went back out to bring in the bags.

You took Lenny to his room, and got him ready for bed, tucking him in and whispering a goodnight before slipping back out. When you returned to the living room, Eren was busy unpacking the bags, putting away all the things we’d picked out at Target, as if this was still his home too. The quiet between us was heavy, and you found myself glancing over, wondering what was going through his mind.

“About the stuff you were gonna take for Lenny,” you said, breaking the silence.

He shrugged, barely looking up. “I’m good for it. Just wanna make sure things are straight here first.”

you nodded, taking in his familiar expression, the hint of something behind those tired eyes. “Thanks, Eren.”

He paused, his gaze finally meeting mine. “Y/N… can we talk? Like, for real?”

His voice held a rawness you hadn’t heard in a long time.

Part of you wanted to tell him to leave, to protect yourself from whatever promises or apologies he had for you now. But another part—the part that still felt the sting of lost years and wasted dreams—was curious. Maybe, after all this time, he had something real to say.

"Alright," you finally said, folding your arms and leaning against the kitchen counter as he finished putting the last few items away.

He turned to face you, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking more like a man on the verge of spilling his soul than the self-assured Eren you once knew. “I know I messed up,” he started, his eyes finding yours with a mix of remorse and determination. “I didn’t just mess up... I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You stayed quiet, letting him get it out, though the words struck a chord.

“I took you for granted, Y/N. I was so focused on everything else—the guys, the business, my own pride—hell, I don’t even know what I was so focused on half the time. And the worst part? You were the one constant, the one person who showed up, who never quit, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away like he was ashamed. “I’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. I know it doesn’t work like that. But... I need you to know that I see it now. I see what I did to you, and it eats me up inside.”

A lump formed in your throat as you looked at him, trying to keep your emotions in check. You’d waited so long to hear something like this from him, but now that he was finally saying it, it was almost too much.

He continued, “I’m trying to be better. For Lennox... and for you. Even if we never go back to the way things were, I need you to know that. And if I can ever make things right, if there’s ever anything you need, I’ll be there. I swear, I’ll be there.”

You took a shaky breath, glancing at the man in front of you—the man who, for the first time in a long time, seemed honest. Vulnerable. And maybe even a little lost.

“Eren…” you started, choosing your words carefully. “I needed this... a long time ago. I don’t know if I can ever forget the things we went through, and I don’t know if it’ll ever feel the same.”

He nodded, his expression a mixture of regret and understanding. “I know. I don’t expect you to. I just—thank you for hearing me out.”

There was a silence between you, filled with all the words you couldn’t say, all the apologies he could never fully express.

As Eren moved to leave, you felt something stir inside you, a mixture of anger and longing that you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Eren, wait,” you said sharply, and he froze, hand on the doorknob. He turned back, eyes searching your face with a glimmer of hope. “Stay,” you said, your voice softer this time. “I mean… for Lennox. He’d probably want you here when he wakes up.”

He hesitated, clearly surprised, but you saw the flicker of relief flash across his face. Eren nodded slowly, stepping away from the door and back into the room.

You crossed your arms, not fully ready to let your guard down. “Don’t think this changes anything,” you said, unable to stop yourself from letting the bitterness show. “This… confession or apology or whatever this is. You don’t get to just walk back in here like nothing happened.”

“I know that, Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance, especially not from you.”

You laughed, though there was no humor in it. “You think an apology can undo years of you putting everyone else before me? Making me feel like a fool for sticking by you?”

His jaw clenched, eyes hardening. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t hate myself for it? I’m here because I want to make things right, not pretend that I didn’t screw everything up.”

You stepped closer, the tension between you sparking like electricity. “But you didn’t care when it mattered, did you, Eren? When I was crying, begging you to put us first—you were out there, with your boys or with some leech of a friend. And now, after all this time, you want to feel bad?”

Eren’s face darkened, his fists clenching at his sides. “You don’t think I know what I did?” he shot back, his voice rising. “You don’t think I see it every time I look at you and realize that I lost the only person who ever gave a damn about me? I know I’m too late—I just can’t sit here and do nothing about it.”

You let out a shaky breath, the anger warring with an ache that had never fully left you. “You say that now, but it’s easy to regret it all when you’ve already lost. It’s too late to go back, Eren. You can’t just show up now and act like you’re some savior.”

He took a step forward, closing the space between you, his eyes intense, filled with something raw. “You don’t think I know I’m too late? I’m just trying, for once in my life, to do the right thing. Even if you hate me.”

Your chest tightened as he looked at you like that, with a fire in his gaze that was so familiar, so maddening. His presence filled the room, suffocating yet strangely comforting, a reminder of all the nights you spent hoping he’d say these words.

“I should hate you,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “I should hate you for all the ways you hurt me. And yet…”

He held your gaze, his expression shifting to something softer, more vulnerable. “And yet… what?”

You shook your head, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill. “I don’t even know anymore, Eren. Part of me wants to push you out and never see you again, and part of me…”

You trailed off, feeling foolish, but Eren’s hand reached out, brushing against your arm. The touch sent a jolt through you, reigniting emotions you’d tried to bury. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and you felt a pang of the old connection that had once been your everything.

“If there’s any part of you that doesn’t want me gone,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “then let me try. Even if it’s just for Lennox.”

You searched his face, torn between the anger, the hurt, and the memories. “Fine,” you said finally, voice thick with emotion. “You can stay tonight. But don’t think this is some invitation to waltz back into my life like nothing happened. You have to earn every bit of my trust back, and right now, you’re starting from nothing.”

Eren nodded, a glimmer of relief crossing his face. “I’ll take it,” he said softly, as if he knew the magnitude of what you’d just allowed.

You turned away, heading towards your room with one last look over your shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable,” you said, voice steadier than you felt. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

It was 1 a.m., and sleep just wouldn’t come. You slipped out of bed and made your way downstairs, hoping maybe a glass of water or the stillness of the night would bring some calm. When you reached the back porch, you spotted Eren outside, sitting alone, his silhouette softened by the dim glow of his cigarette. You watched for a moment, noticing his lips moving, unsure if he was on the phone or just talking to himself.

“Man, I don’t know if I can handle this,” you heard him murmur, his voice barely cutting through the quiet night air. “I know I deserve this, but… I really love her.”

And then another voice came through the line—a voice you recognized all too well: Elijah.

“For what, her?” Elijah scoffed, his tone dripping with venom. “I been told you she ain’t no good. Her and her whole fuck-ass family. You think it’s her that’s got you where you’re at? It’s all you, man. She divorced you, took half of what you worked for, and you didn’t even want children in the first place.”

You stayed quiet, pulse quickening, curiosity and a hint of hurt holding you in place. You wanted to hear Eren’s response—needed to.

Eren sighed, his voice quieter, wearier. “Why you hate her so much, man?”

“‘Cause she ain’t shit, bro,” Elijah snapped, a hint of anger and arrogance. “She’s useless, ain’t ever taken care of you, ain’t no good.”

A beat of silence stretched between them. Eren’s jaw clenched, his profile shadowed but strong. His reply cut through the tension.

“This is why I was tryna keep my distance from you.”

Elijah cursed, his voice harsh and biting, words meant to tear at Eren’s resolve. But Eren didn’t respond. His grip tightened on the phone before he muttered, “I’m good, man,” and hung up, letting the phone drop beside him. He leaned back, took another long drag from his cigarette, eyes lost somewhere in the distance, the weight of his thoughts heavy on his shoulders.

You stood there, unseen but unable to ignore the quiet intensity of the scene, a small crack of light on the depth of Eren’s struggle… and maybe something else.

You watched him quietly from the shadows, your heart pounding at what you’d just heard. Eren seemed worn down, his shoulders slumped as he took a long drag, staring out into the night. You didn’t know whether to feel vindicated, hurt, or relieved—maybe all of it at once. You’d suspected for a long time that Elijah was one of the reasons behind Eren’s distance, but to hear it confirmed felt like reopening an old wound.

After a few moments, Eren seemed to notice your presence. He turned, his eyes widening slightly before settling into a tired look, one you recognized as the same mix of shame and frustration that always appeared when he was forced to confront the mess he’d created.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, trying for a casual tone, though he seemed to sense there was no use in pretending.

You shrugged, stepping closer and crossing your arms. “Funny, I could say the same about you. Heard enough to know I was right about him.”

Eren exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping as he stubbed out the cigarette. “You don’t need to worry about Eli. I… I’m done with him.” He sounded as though he was convincing himself as much as you.

“Eren,” you began, searching for the words. “You kept him around for years, even when I told you what he’d been saying, even when you knew what he thought of me.” The words felt heavy as they left your lips, carrying the weight of all the nights you’d tried to explain why it hurt you that he valued Eli’s word so much.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. And I should have listened to you. Hell, I should have seen it myself. I was so wrapped up in trying to hang onto everything… my friends, my pride, my independence, that I didn’t realize what I was letting go of until it was too late.” He paused, his voice softening. “And now, it’s you I’m trying to hang onto.”

You crossed your arms tighter, steeling yourself. “Words don’t mean much, Eren. Not anymore.”

He looked at you with a kind of desperation that made your resolve waver, just slightly. “I know they don’t. But I need you to know that it’s not just words. I’ve been cutting off people who aren’t any good for me. I want to be better for Lennox… and for you, if there’s even a chance I could earn that.”

You shook your head, trying to keep your composure. “It’s going to take more than just getting rid of people, Eren. You’ve hurt me in ways I can’t just forget.”

He looked down, guilt flashing across his face. “I know. And if that means we never get back together, then… then I have to live with that. But I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and charged, as you watched him, conflicted. His words sounded real, but the years of broken promises made it hard to trust anything he said. Still, the vulnerability in his eyes made it hard to turn away.

You finally nodded. “Then prove it. Not just to me, but to Lennox. Show me that this isn’t just another empty promise.”

Eren stubbed out his cigarette, his gaze softening as he noticed you by the doorway. Without a word, he reached over, taking your hand and pulling you gently onto his lap. You could feel the warmth of his embrace and the lingering scent of smoke as he held you close, his chest rising and falling beneath you. His arms wrapped around you tightly, like he was scared to let go.

The weight of his words, his touch—it all felt like it was tugging you back into memories you’d tried to bury. His breath was warm against your neck as he murmured, “I remember you picking out the colours for every room, saying how you wanted a place Lennox could run around in, how you pictured us… growing old here. I couldn’t see it then, but I can now.”

You shifted slightly, feeling a pang in your chest. “Eren… we’re not the same people we were back then. You say you love me now, but where was that love when I needed it most?”

He pulled you closer, his voice thick. “I know I can’t make up for all the ways I failed you, but I’m asking for a chance to be better. To give you the love you deserved from the start.”

You wanted to keep your resolve, to remind him that you weren’t someone he could just pull close when it suited him. But the way he held you, the sincerity in his voice—it was everything you’d wanted to hear, but it also reminded you of every hurtful memory, every time you’d felt alone in a house that should have been filled with love.

“You think it’s that simple?” you whispered, half-pleading, half-defiant, trying to keep from giving in completely.

“No. It’s not simple. It’s going to take time, and I know you might never forgive me fully. But if there’s even a small part of you that still wants me, that still remembers why we fell in love in the first place… then let me show you. Let me prove I’m not that selfish guy who didn’t appreciate you.” He looked into your eyes, his hand brushing a stray hair from your face. “Please, let me stay… for you and Lennox.”

The weight of his words lingered, stirring up feelings you weren’t ready to face. But with his arms around you, it felt, for just a moment, like maybe things could be different.

You sighed, a mixture of frustration and longing swirling inside you. Maybe it was a mistake—one that would pull you back into the hurt and anger you’d worked so hard to get past. But as you looked into his eyes, so filled with regret and something that almost felt like hope, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You looked away, not wanting him to see the vulnerability you’d just let slip. “But don’t think this is a reset. Things can’t just go back to how they were.”

Eren’s grip on you tightened, and you could feel the relief in his touch. “I know. I don’t want things to be the way they were. I want them to be better. I want to… earn this. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.”

You held his gaze, seeing a glimmer of the Eren you’d fallen for—the one who���d been lost to pride, mistakes, and years of neglect. It felt like standing on the edge of something you weren’t sure would hold, but a part of you, buried beneath the hurt, was curious enough to see if it could.

“Just… don’t make me regret this,” you murmured, resting your head against his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath your ear, steady but strong.

Eren leaned down, his voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t. Not this time.”

As you sat together, the silence between you felt both familiar and new, like the beginning of something unsteady but hopeful.

Eren’s lips brushed against yours, gentle at first, testing boundaries, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d pull away. The kiss was soft, slow, filled with an ache you hadn’t felt in ages, like he was searching for something in you he’d lost a long time ago.

His hand moved to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly as he deepened the kiss. You could feel the hesitation in him, the desperation, and yet… you let yourself get lost in it, sinking into the warmth of him, the familiarity of his touch that still managed to feel brand new.

His other arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer. It was like he was afraid to let go, like he knew this moment was fragile, and he didn’t want to shatter it. You could feel his heart pounding against yours, each beat reminding you of what you’d once shared—and the pain that had come with it.

You broke away, just slightly, catching your breath, looking up at him. His eyes were heavy with emotion, raw, and for a second, you saw the vulnerability he’d kept hidden for so long.

“Eren,” you whispered, barely able to say his name, feeling the weight of everything it meant.

“I’m not gonna mess this up again,” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with certainty. He searched your face, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

Eren kissed you again this time picking you up and carrying you to your bed, the one you shared with him. Eren looked around the room for a moment “You didn’t change anything in here much.

You laughed “Nah, I liked the decor.”

Eren slowly pulled your pants down your legs, drinking in the sight of your bare skin with hungry eyes. He nudged your thighs further apart, settling between them like a man starved.

"Baby, please," he rasped, voice raw with desperation. "I need you back. Need to feel you again, all of you."

He lowered his head, tongue flicking out to taste your slick folds. Eren groaned at the first intimate brush of your essence on his tongue, the flavour igniting something primal deep within him. He lapped at your feverishly, delving deep with each broad stroke.

"Fuck, you taste divine," Eren gasped, mouth glistening with your arousal. "Missed this sweet cunt, missed hearing you scream on my tongue."

He sealed his lips around your clit, suckling the sensitive bud. His fingers joined in the assault, pumping in and out of your dripping channel in tandem with the thrusts of his tongue.

"Take me back, love," Eren pleaded, the words muffled against your skin. "Let me worship this pussy, fucking ruin you for anyone else."

He added a third finger, stretching your wide, feeling your walls begin to flutter around the intrusion. Eren knew you were close, could taste your impending release, and he doubled his efforts.

"Cum for me, baby," he commanded, voice a low growl. "Let go and fucking drench my face."

Eren sealed his mouth over yours again, tongue delving deep, fingers curling just right. He could feel the telltale tremble in your thighs, the sharp inhale

Fuck Daddy Ouu..Right there, you groaned.

Eren groaned against your heated flesh as you cried out for him, your thighs trembling on either side of his head. He could feel you getting closer and closer to the edge with each stroke of his tongue, each pump of his fingers.

"That's it, baby," he rasped, words muffled against your soaked folds. "Let go, cum all over Daddy's face."

your hands flew to Eren's hair, fisting the brown strands as he relentlessly worked you with his mouth and fingers. your body began to quake, back arching off the bed as your release crashed over you in waves.

"F-Fuck, Eren!" you wailed, hips bucking wildly against him. Eren held you down, keeping his mouth firmly in place to catch every drop of your essence. He lapped up your release greedily, the taste and sound of her pleasure shooting straight to his aching cock.

As your tremors began to subside, Eren pulled back, licking his lips in satisfaction. He crawled up your body, hovering over you with a predatory glint in his eyes.

"Mm, delicious as always," he purred, grinding his still-clothed erection against your sensitive clit. "But I'm not done with you yet, baby girl. Still need to feel this tight little cunt wrapped around my cock."

Without warning, Eren sat back on his heels and yanked his pants down, freeing his straining dick. In a quick movement, he flipped you onto her stomach and lifted your hips, lining himself up with your entrance.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," Eren groaned, catching a glimpse of her swollen glistening clit as he positioned himself behind her. 

The sight of your delicate, wet folds, still flushed and slick from your recent orgasm, made his mouth water. He had to taste her again, had to feel her come undone on his tongue again.  

"Shh, relax baby," Eren cooed, his breath ghosting over your heated skin. "Gonna make you feel so fucking good."  With that, he dipped his head, extending his tongue to lap at your tender bud. Your sharp inhale was music to his ears as he started to work you over with long, broad strokes. 

He alternated between fast flicks and slow, deliberate licks, teasing you mercilessly.  "That's it, let me hear those pretty little moans," Eren encouraged, one hand reaching up to pinch and roll a pert nipple. "Gonna suck this clit, make you ride my face until you're seeing stars."  He sealed his lips around the sensitive nub, suckling gently before grazing it with his teeth. 

At the same time, he slipped two fingers into your dripping channel, pumping them in time with the thrusts of his tongue. 

 Your hands flew to the sheets, gripping them tightly as Eren relentlessly stimulated yourr most intimate places. Your thighs began to tremble, a telltale sign of your impending climax.  "Cum for me, baby," Eren demanded, voice low and authoritative. "Coat my tongue with your cum. Let me drink you down like a good boy."

Your body convulsed as another orgasm ripped through her, her inner walls clamping down around Eren’s fingers as she came undone on his tongue. He lapped up her release greedily, swallowing every drop of her essence with a low groan of appreciation.

As her tremors began to subside, Eren slowly withdrew his fingers from her needy cunt. He crept up her body, pushing your braids to one side to press open-mouthed kisses along the column of your sweat-slicked neck.

"Thank you, baby," he rasped against her skin, voice rough with emotion. "For giving me another chance to show you how much I need you, how much I fucking love you."

Eren felt his thick cock poised at her entrance, the blunt head nudging insistently against her swollen folds. Then, with a single, powerful thrust, Eren sheathed himself fully inside her, stretching her deliciously.

"Shit, you feel incredible," he groaned, hips rolling into yours. "Love being buried in this perfect pussy."

You whimpered, trying to rock your hips back to meet his slow, deliberate thrusts. But Eren held you firmly in place, using his weight to pin you down.

"Ah ah," he tutted, delivering a sharp smack to her ass. "Patience, baby. Gonna take my time with you, make this last."

You keened, the edge of frustration, "Please, Eren," she begged, "I need it harder, faster. Fuck me like you mean it!"

"No, not yet," Eren refused, voice a low growl. "Gonna make love to you first. Gonna make this last, take my time worshipping this gorgeous body."

He dipped his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your whimpers of frustration. One hand slid up to cup your breast, fingers toying with a pebbled nipple.

"Relax, love," Eren murmured against her mouth. "Let me make you feel good. Wanna savour every inch of you."

He pulled back slightly, drinking in the sight of you spread out beneath him, skin glistening with sweat and hair mussed. The visual alone nearly undid him. Slowly, torturously, Eren rocked into your welcoming heat, each leisurely thrust burying himself to the hilt. He groaned low in his throat at the exquisite drag of your inner walls along his sensitive length.

"Fuck, baby," he rasped, dropping his forehead to hers. "You feel so damn good. Could stay buried in this sweet cunt forever."

Eren's hands roamed your body as he continued his steady, unhurried pace - mapping the dips and curves of your waist, gripping your hips to pull her flush against him. His thrusts remained deep and measured, stoking the embers of pleasure in your core.

"Gonna make you beg for it," Eren promised darkly, a smug smile curving his lips. "Wanna hear you plead for Daddy's cock, for me to fill this needy little pussy up."

Eren's voice was a low, demanding rumble in your ear. "That's it, baby. Beg for me like you had me begging for you to take me back. Let me hear how much you need this cock, how much you need me."

He pulled her hips flush against him, grinding his pelvis against your clit with each deep, deliberate thrust. The friction was maddening, stoking the fire in her veins.

You couldn't hold back, not with the way Eren was touching her, not with the way he was filling you so perfectly. "Please, Eren," you whimpered, your voice cracking with need. "I need you. I need your cock, need you to fuck me harder. Please, Daddy, I'm begging you. Take me, use me, make me yours. Fuck me like you'll never let me go."

All you cared about was the feeling of him buried deep inside you, the promise of release hovering just out of reach.

Eren groaned, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. "Fuck, baby, listen to you. So desperate for Daddy's cock. Such a good girl, coming undone on my dick."

He shifted the angle of his thrusts, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every drive of his hips. Your moans grew louder, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him desperately.

"That's it, cum for me," Eren rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Cum all over my cock. Look at you, so fucking desperate for it," Eren growled, his voice a guttural rasp. "Need Daddy's cock splitting you open, don't you? Need me to fill you up until you're fucking drowning in it."

He changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting that sweet spot inside her that had you seeing stars. Your inner walls clenched around him, fluttering and grasping as if trying to pull him even deeper.

"Gonna make you cum so hard," Eren promised darkly, grinding his pelvis against your clit with each stroke. "Gonna flood this pussy, mark you from the inside out. Let everyone know who you belong to."

He leaned down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your needy whimpers and moans. you clung to him, nails raking down his back, leaving red welts in their wake.

"Do it," you gasped out, your voice raw and desperate. "Fill me up, make me yours. Fucking breed me, Eren."

The words seemed to snap something inside him, and Eren reared back, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The headboard slammed against the wall with each powerful thrust, the bed creaking in protest beneath them.

"Fuck, baby, gonna - shit, I'm gonna - " Eren's words cut off with a strangled groan as his climax hit him like a freight train. His cock jerked as his release overtook him. Thick, hot spurts of his seed filled your spasming cunt, marking you from the inside out. Your orgasm followed shortly after, your inner walls milking him for every last drop.

"Fuck, baby," Eren panted, his hips still twitching with aftershocks. "You're so fucking perfect, taking everything I give you."

He collapsed on top of you, blanketing your smaller form with his larger one. For a moment, they simply lay there, catching their breath as the afterglow washed over them.

Slowly, Eren pulled out, his softening cock slipping free from your well-used cunt. He immediately felt the loss, the emptiness that came with not being connected to you.

With gentle hands, he rolled you onto your back, gathering you close. Eren nuzzled into your neck, pressing soft kisses to the sweat-slicked skin.

"I love you," he murmured, the words a raw confession. "Love you so fucking much, baby. Gonna spend the rest of my life proving it to you if you'll let me."

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his green eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. But all he found was love, trust, and a tentative hope.

[peterspinkrobe]

Confession - priest!Miguel O’Hara x Reader [part 2]

Word count: 2,270 (oops)

Rating: mature for suggestive content. Mentions of masturbation. You have a dirty mind… tsk tsk. Religious content. Mentions of parental death (sorry for not tagging last time).

A/N: Thank you for your feral support in reading part 1! The art above is again by @Ejpuki on twt. They drew this moment from part one and JUST LOOK AT IT! They also did a pre-reading which I greatly appreciated. Go support them over there <3 I only tagged the people who explicitly stated bc I don’t want to overstep. Also, I guess I should watch Fleabag? Enjoy! part three is cookin’ in my noggin’

// Psalms 32:3-4

When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me;

Rumbling sounds drone from the engine in a constant hum as the bus wheels roll down the asphalt, occasionally shuffling the passengers inside. Yourself included.

The wheels in your mind are conjuring images of too much skin, friction, and want. The mental pictures… different positions and other things that you’ve only read about - all featuring the same tall deacon from your small church.

You curse yourself for both your overactive imagination and forgetfulness for having left your headphones at home. Some loud music would drown out the whir of the bus and push out the flashes of lewdness that plagued you.

Reverend O’Hara, you learned that’s what transitional deacons are usually called after inquiring about the proper title on Google the second you got home from that communion, occupied the majority of your mind. He took up residence in your thoughts without even asking permission and you didn’t know the proper way to absolve your sanity of him. It had only been two weeks since you’d met him, two Sunday services, but you were hooked. This trip into the city was supposed to get you out of the house and help clear your mind of its recent inhabitant.

The methods you were currently using were certainly of no help. Nearly every night, for the past two weeks, you’d given into temptation. Allowing the streaking images of what you could only envision his toned body looked like to remain longer in your mind’s eye. His thumb on your lip, the quick swipe across - became more inquisitive of the inside of your mouth in your imagination. You pressed into yourself and thought of those long, thick fingers. You carried yourself away on highs with only his hands in mind. You yearned to baptize him in your waters.

You buried fingernails into your palms to ground yourself as the scenery outside the bus began the change drastically, pulling you out of your daydream.

Your hometown along the Catskill Mountains was enveloped by the natural world - tucked into valleys of the vast countryside. In the three weeks you’d been back home, you had already gotten used to surrounding greenery. You’d forgotten the toll that city expansion was having on the rows of vegetable and orchard farms in the surrounding areas.

Your gaze out the window watched tree lines and grassy hills give way to glimmers of futuristic architecture as the bus entered Nueva York. The rhythm of wheels on tarmac became a backdrop to the din of honking horns, shouting pedestrians, and blaring sirens. You had only recently left a city not too different from this one, but the drastic change in landscape from the mountains made your head spin. The inertia of the bus braking and accelerating over and over on the intersecting streets only added to the motion sickness. You recognize the next stop as the usual one you and your mother used when coming into the city. You quickly get off the bus, blessing the steady ground underneath as your boots hit the pavement.

Towering structures of carbon fiber and glass dominated the skyline, some illuminated by bright neon light displays, others blending into the afternoon sunshine. Advertisements for fast foods, fast money, and fast cars flickered on screens everywhere. You look to where the bus carried you from and, in contrast, the countryside stretched out, calling you back. Despite the slight familiarity in the maze of metal, the sudden change in surroundings made you slightly anxious.

The steady stream of citizens didn’t help your nerves either. You take a moment to get yourself together before following the foot traffic flow up a familiar street.

Your eyes recognize a food spot from a bygone era and you can’t help but smile. You picked up the pace as you headed to the establishment your family used to frequent. Timeless Treats is still here?! You pull on the long handled door and a wave of music, chatter, and sugar hit you at once. Much more pleasant than the waves of anxiety from moments before.

Entering the quaint eatery, you’re transported into a cozy atmosphere reminiscent of an old fashioned diner. A cheerful man at the front waves you in and shouts for you to ‘sit where ya want!’.

You recognized the vintage decor: rusted signs with cartoon mascots and ads for ice cream floats that cost only $2. Imagine! You select one of the smaller retro tables with two stools and hear a jukebox play a song you don’t recognize but tap your foot along to.

There was more to this diner than what it seems at first glance. A few more glances noticed the subtle touches where the diner had embraced the future where it mattered, with high-tech kitchen appliances that helped the staff immensely. A holographic menu pops up across the portion of the table you're sitting at and you slide your finger along the options.

This bakery specialized in delicious treats with a futuristic flare, with many favorites being popular since the establishment opened generations ago. Your eyes fell onto the pastry menu and your curiosity piqued as you ordered the ‘Time Traveler’s Torta.’

All the hustle of the city had occupied your mind until you were sitting alone at the table. Your eyes scanned the other occupants and you wondered what they were all talking about with their sugary sweets. It made you think of him again.

Dammit. A whole ten minutes without thinking of Reverend O’Hara, that’s a record! You couldn’t help the images of Miguel that fluttered now. Only this time you pictured him sitting at the table with you. The two of you share a dessert and you smile at the thought. You visualize his thumb coming to your face to wipe whipped cream from your lips only to plop the finger into his own mouth. That moment as mass replayed in your mind with differing flavors of spice on repeat.

The torta arrives and you gawk at the presentation of the treat. A classic cake with layers of light vanilla sponge, intricately placed swirls of sweet cream cheese frosting, and decadent chocolate sauce. This sweet was the perfect balance of timeless and futuristic as it sat on an oblong, ornate plate.

You savored the flavors as you ate and continued to imagine a date with the deacon. You ask yourself if deacons can even date and the thought pulls you out of your delusions for a moment. Get it together…

As you scooped the last bits of the pastry into your mouth, you pondered your dilemma. Mom always said that confession cleared a clouded consciousness, but there was no way you’d divulge this information to her. Her hypothetical reaction to your crush on a clergy member makes you shiver.

An idea comes to mind that makes you think to yourself that you’ve really gone mad.

The madness pushes you from your seat after paying for the dessert. There’s a slim chance what you’re looking for is actually there considering the cities expansions. That doubt doesn’t stop you from following a semi-recognizable path down the busy streets.

Every tall figure you pass makes you do a double take. The idea of the deacon brushing alongside you making you smile. You turn a corner as your imagination creates sweet scenarios with Reverend O’Hara and stop in your tracks. You cause people behind you to push into your back and spit harsh murmurs at you.

It was still there.

You were surprised for good reason. You were headed towards a relic of past times, nestled between buildings of glass and metal. There was some scaffolding supporting it as the building you headed towards was centuries old. Other than that - the structure you now stood and stared at jutted towards the sky in the old brick and mortar style you were used to seeing in your hometown.

But the Cathedral of Nueva York wasn’t like the humble church in your hometown. The ornate bell tower and large cross atop the chapel in front of you proved that. The only thing to change about the building was the name as the state itself saw many changes a few decades ago - including the name of the actual city.

You find yourself reminiscing on the few times you’d been to the church as you walked inside. Your family used to attend the fancy Easter services and Christmas plays. Those trips stopped after your father passed, and your mother rarely came to the city at all anymore. You remember seeing pictures of them on their wedding day at this very church. Priesthood is a tight knit group and Father Steen knew the head priest, who extended their church for their wedding services.

Given it was a weekday afternoon, there weren’t many souls inside. Despite the numerous options for seating, you sat in your usual middle pew, aisle seat.

You eyed the part of the church that had brought you here in the first place. The confession booth. Its cherrywood exterior made you think of those eyes that bore into yours that day of communion. You shake your head but the visual remains.

The church in your hometown didn’t have a confessional booth. Even if they did - why the hell would you confess there? To the subject of your lustful desires? So many questions and doubts enter your mind.

Could you really do this? Confess to a priest that you pined over a man in his chaste brotherhood? Think of the judgment!

Another thought occurs to you: their whole shtick was that only one entity could do the judging. And it was confidential. If you received some good ol’ fashioned Catholic scolding and Hail Mary’s, maybe that would be enough to get you back to your senses. Reverend O’Hara is a man devoted to God and cannot be hindered by the whims of a degenerate like yourself.

Emboldened by the potential to relieve yourself of your corrupt thoughts, you stand and approach the far right front of the church. The confessional is smaller than it looked from how you remember as a child and teen but it doesn’t stop you from nearly yanking the door open. You don’t even knock.

Thankfully no one is on the confessing side as you burst into the tiny box. The confined space became even smaller as you closed the door behind you quickly. Your mind races towards impure thoughts of the deacon pressed against you in the tight booth space. His height would force him to bend slightly over you and the visual almost knocks you onto the bench which would probably be right at crotch level…

You remember the times you’d done this before and cry out the usual, “Forgive me, for I have sinned and it has been many years since my last confession…”. Who were you even asking for forgiveness? You think for a moment about the last time you were in this booth. You felt so guilty about stealing from the general store all those years back. This was a different kind of confession. This would hopefully absolve yourself of the sinful attraction to the forbidden.

You start light, fumbling over the words, “I’ve gotten drunk and high, uh, a good bit while in college. I lied to my mother and got into major trouble as a result. I’ve been selfish and lazy.”

The anonymity and the release of it all lit a fire under you and you kept going.

“While I’m in this confession booth, and I know it is a sacred and holy place”, you sigh and hear shuffling on the opposite side of the wall, the priest waiting patiently on the other side. “I’ve been struggling with my faith and don’t believe in god…”

You hear the clergyman start to interject but the voice that comes out of you has a fierce tone.

“I’m not done.” Now it was the priest’s turn to sigh and you see movement through the small slits in the partition, but hear nothing else. You continue. The most scandalous part to admit had yet to be said.

“Father, I’ve been lustful over the deacon at my church.” There’s silence on the other end and before embarrassment can take over you continue, “I’m constantly thinking of him and having impure thoughts that drive me to-“ oh god, here it is

“Touch myself. Daily. With this deacon on my mind.” You can’t stop the heat from painting your cheeks a deep red.

“I feel guilty because he isn’t for me to think that way about. From just the two times I’ve seen him, I know he is a good man who does good things. He’s on a path towards righteousness. He’s worthy.” To your shock, you feel tears form and they begin to fall.

“I’m a sinful nonbeliever. Definitely not someone he could be with, unworthy of devotion of any kind. And I’m not good.” Your breathing becomes shaky as the tears fall harder. Despite the fact that you feel your words are the truth, you can’t help but imagine him there now. Comforting you as you cry.

Now that you’ve finished confession, you expect to hear an outburst of disapproval or at least ‘50 Hail Mary’s’ to absolve you of your confessed transgressions.

But that’s not what you heard next.

You hear your name. You hear your name in that sweet music that’s been ringing in your ears the last week or so. This time the musical tone is cautious. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as your eyes glue to the wall where the music came from.

To confirm your suspicions, you grab the knob on the partition and yank it back.

Through the small window you see a familiar pair of eyes analyzing your face, heavy with worry.

Reverend O’Hara had just taken your confession…

I pray you liked this, dear reader.

Tagged ppl - @friendlynbhdzero @ceoofghosts it won’t let me tag you @hoelychildofgod

[water-you-doing-bro]

Just for you, @wisegirl1448 a wip <3

The whole thing is about 3.8k and currently completely unedited. It's not my best writing, but my only thought going into it was jason, piper, leo, frank, and hazel get confirmation that the insane stories they've heard abt percy/learn about some of the insane shit that percy's done and they all proceed to have meltdowns about it while percy is confused and annabeth is crying from laughter on the floor so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ uhhhh enjoy?

~

The seven sat scattered across the galley of the Argo II during a rare moment of quiet on their journey to the Ancient Lands. Coach Hedge was keeping watch up on deck alongside Festus and Buford, which left the demigods to relax. 

They had started out in different parts of the ship, but eventually, they had all wandered into the galley. That’s not to say that they started hanging out as a group, it was more like there were several smaller groups hanging out in the same space. 

Leo was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall as he tinkered with random bits and bobs he pulled from his toolbelt. Frank and Hazel were sitting next to each other at the long table in the middle of the room, talking quietly. Annabeth was sitting tucked into the back corner of the room, her laptop balanced on one knee and Percy’s head resting on her other thigh where he lay stretched beside her as she ran her fingers through his hair. Piper honestly couldn’t tell if he was awake or asleep. 

Meanwhile, she and Jason were sitting at the other end of the table, their backs to the door, as Jason ate a late lunch and Piper crossed her arms on the table to put her head down, content to quietly watch her friends relax. 

Then, Annabeth made a soft noise of frustration and drew Piper’s attention. Percy blinked open his eyes with a questioning hum. Annabeth muttered something too softly for Piper to hear and Percy craned his neck back to study whatever was on her laptop screen. He squinted at it for a moment, his brow furrowing, before wiggling around so that he was laying on his stomach rather than his back. He propped himself up with one arm, his chin now resting on Annabeth’s thigh as she turned the computer so he could see it better, and pointed at something on the screen. 

He mumbled something about it through a jaw-cracking yawn that made Annabeth’s eyes go wide in realization. She smacked a hand to her forehead with a groan. 

“Gods, I can’t believe I didn’t see that!” she said. Percy just mumbled something incoherently and flopped over onto his back, looking like he was already half-asleep again. Annabeth giggled (honest to gods giggled! Piper wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to seeing Annabeth ‘I Won’t Hesitate to Cut a Bitch’ Chase fucking giggle) and leaned down to kiss Percy’s forehead. “Thanks, Seaweed Brain. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She gazed down at him fondly, her expression impossibly tender, and despite herself, Piper couldn’t hold back her wistful sigh. 

Unfortunately, said sigh managed to draw everyone’s attention (except Percy’s, who had turned his head to bury his face in Annabeth’s sweater) and Piper felt her cheeks flame as they all looked at her. Leo and Jason looked confused, and Frank looked vaguely startled while Hazel bit her lip trying not to laugh. Annabeth just raised an eyebrow at her, making Piper blush harder. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting up to begin gesturing vaguely. “It’s just—I mean—you—oh gods,” Piper cut herself off and buried her head in her hands with a groan. 

“Careful there, Beauty Queen. You having a stroke or something? Do you smell toast?” Leo said and poked her cheek, having apparently gotten up and wandered over to her. 

She lifted her head to glare at him and flipped him off. Leo just snickered and dropped into the chair on her other side. 

Jason laid a comforting hand on her back. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. When she opened them again, she found that Frank and Hazel had moved closer to her and Jason’s end of the table while Annabeth was in the process of dragging a disgruntled, bleary-eyed Percy to sit at the table as well. 

Piper sighed and reached up to fiddle with her hair, starting a small braid as she began to talk. “Look, it’s kind of silly, but, well, it’s just a little baffling to me,” she said, abandoning her braid to gesture to Annabeth. “Seeing you with Percy. It just kind of makes me realize how little I actually know about you two, about all of you. I mean, I think Leo and I were friends before peacock bitch messed with our heads, but I can’t be sure because she fucked with our memories. I feel like regardless of that, though, I at least got a few months getting to know Jason for real and, I don’t know, resettling? Reconfirming? My friendship with Leo, trying to figure out how much of what I know about him from my tampered memories is real.” She ran her hand through her hair and let out a frustrated huff. “But with you guys,” she gestured at Frank and Hazel, “I mean, I don’t really know anything about you guys. And you two!” she pointed at Percy and Annabeth, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t even get me started!” she groaned. 

Percy blinked owlishly at her, clearly at a loss as to what was going on. Annabeth, annoyingly, looked like she was barely resisting the urge to laugh. Piper glared at them. 

“Annabeth, you were so serious and angry all the time! You were almost never at Camp and if you were, you didn’t really talk to anybody. I mean, gods, you kept your emotions so locked down! But then we get to Camp Jupiter and you pretty much just straight up attack their newly minted Praetor right in front of them, something I’d have never thought you’d do. And now that you’ve got Percy back, you-you're so open all of a sudden! You giggle! From what I saw of you while Percy was missing, I never would have thought that you’d be the kind of person to giggle and make some of the sappiest, most love-sick expressions I have ever seen.” Piper waved her hands around, aghast. 

Annabeth gave up holding it in and burst into a fit of laughter. Hazel was trying to hide her quiet giggling behind her hand while the boys just gave Piper matching wide-eyed stares. She ignored them and pointed an accusatory finger at Percy. 

“And speaking of you, Percy Jackson, I cannot for the life of me figure you out! I mean, you were all anyone at Camp would talk about, and they told us all these insane stories about shit you supposedly did. If I’m being honest, I kinda expected you to be at least a little egotistical, maybe even a bit of a self-important asshole, y’know?” she said, only to get cut off by Frank, Hazel, and Annabeth bursting into roaring laughter. “Hey!” Piper sputtered indignantly. “I feel like that was a fair assumption to make! Especially about a guy who ‘supposedly’ fought the god of war at twelve and won.” Piper crossed her arms and huffed. 

Hazel and Frank’s laughter choked off and they turned to stare at Percy with horrified expressions. Annabeth howled and fell off her chair, clutching her stomach. Percy himself was too busy giving Annabeth an affronted look to notice. 

“I mean, are we really supposed to believe that he managed to kill the minotaur with his bare hands before he even made it to Camp? Or that he almost single-handedly took out a Titan? Like, come on! There’s no way any of that happened.” Piper glared at where Annabeth was still rolling on the floor. “And then we meet Percy and he acts like he’s just some guy! He doesn’t act like he’s anything special or like he’s done anything crazy. But then he and Jason get possessed by those spirit things and I mean, that was terrifying! They almost killed each other, and Jason would have died if I hadn’t managed to get that pegasus to knock Percy out. So he’s obviously pretty powerful but, again, he doesn’t act like it!” 

Annabeth had managed to pick herself up off the floor with Percy’s help, even though she was still laughing, and was now wiping tears from her eyes after laughing so hard. 

“Piper,” she said through waning laughter. “Those aren’t bs stories. He actually did those things. I was there. Plus, those aren’t even some of the craziest stunts this dipshit’s pulled.” She jabbed a thumb at her boyfriend who just rolled his eyes at her. 

Piper’s mouth dropped open in shock as she heard Leo drop whatever he was tinkering with and Jason choked on something. Hazel gasped and Frank started sputtering. 

“So that’s what that was about!” Hazel cried, pointing at Percy with wide eyes. “You didn’t even remember it, but you just knew that you didn’t like him!” 

Annabeth’s eyes narrowed and she whipped around to glare at Percy. 

“Percy,” Annabeth said, voice dangerously low. “What is she talking about? What did you do?” 

Percy blanched and started to sputter out some excuse, holding his hands up placatingly, but Frank cut in before he could manage to form any full sentences. 

“He hadn’t even been at Camp a full day and we’d just won war games because of him, and then Mars showed up in the middle of the field,” Frank said. “The rest of us immediately dropped to our knees but this guy stayed standing. He just stared Mars down and said ‘I know you. You’re Ares. We’ve met before. We fought on a beach.’ I swear, I thought Mars was going to incinerate him on the spot. I was also pretty sure that Percy might have actually tried to start a fight with him if I didn’t jump in. That’s when Mars claimed me and told us to go to Alaska. Well, he told me to go and then said that I would be bringing the ‘disrespectful punk’ along, too.” 

Annabeth smacked Percy upside the head and he just pouted at her. 

“Come on, Wise Girl,” he whined. “I was tired and stressed out and I’d just carried Juno disguised as an old hippy bag lady across the Little Tiber, which washed away the Curse of Achilles and then used said river to destroy with extreme prejudice Medusa’s sisters. I hadn’t slept or eaten properly in like, a month at least, Octavian had been a little bitch and butchered my Pillow Pet like, an hour ago, and I was just confused as fuck about literally everything going on.” 

Annabeth sighed and shook her head before turning to Frank and Hazel. “Did he get any better on the quest to Alaska?” 

Hazel let out a small laugh and shook her head. “We met Phineas, the blind seer. Dirt face had brought him back, I guess. He had information we needed. We had two vials of gorgon’s blood, and Percy made a wager. Phineas would write down the information we needed, and then he would pick a vial. He would drink one, and Percy would drink the other. One of them would die, and the other would get ‘healed.’” 

Annabeth turned furious eyes back to her boyfriend, but this time Percy crossed his arms and glared right back. 

“Phineas thought that Gaea valued him enough to guide him to the vial with the cure.” Percy shrugged. “I figured she valued me more. And I was right.” 

Annabeth shook her head and sighed again. “You, Percy Jackson, are going to give me gray hair.” 

Percy grinned. “I’ll have you know, Annabeth Chase, that you already gave me gray hair. Or did you forget?” He ran his fingers through the grey streak of hair that stood out starkly from the rest of his inky black locks. 

Annabeth groaned and let her head fall backward as she slid dramatically down in her chair. 

“I have wondered how you guys got those,” Leo pipped up, “But Jason told me it’d probably be rude to ask. Do we get the story now?” 

Piper glanced to the side and saw that he was practically bouncing in his seat. Piper had to admit she had also been curious about the twin streaks of grey hair the two older demigods sported but hadn’t wanted to ask. 

Percy’s grin widened and his eyes glinted mischievously. Annabeth just groaned again and sunk further down in her chair, covering her face with her hands. 

“Okay, so we’re like, thirteen—” 

Percy immediately launched into a crazy story that had the rest of their jaws on the floor. The more Percy talked, the more Piper felt like her head might explode. First, he just kinda glossed over the fact that he got stabbed and poisoned. Then, apparently, Annabeth tackled a monster off a cliff, the Hunters of Artemis and Artemis herself showed up, and Percy had to deal with an energetic ten-year-old asking him questions like ‘if Annabeth is so smart, why’d she fall off a cliff?’ and try not to kill him. This was then followed by Percy sneaking out of Camp to follow along on the quest Artemis’ lieutenant had received to rescue Artemis (except Percy just wanted to rescue Annabeth, which had a part of Piper that she refused to acknowledge cooing). 

When Percy mentioned killing the Nemean Lion with freeze-dried food packets stolen from a museum gift shop like it was no big deal, Piper thought her eyes might pop out of her skull. 

When he told them about how he’d wrestled Nereus, Jason choked, and they had to stop to make sure he was okay before continuing. 

By the time they made it to the part where Percy, Zoë, Thalia, and Grover had made it to Mt. Tam and discovered Artemis trapped beneath the sky, Piper had almost forgotten about the grey streak thing. 

“I knew Artemis would have a better chance against Atlas than I would, so I told her to give me the sky.” 

“You what?” Frank gasped, sounded as shocked as Piper felt. 

Percy shrugged. “I’d seen in a dream that Annabeth had taken the sky from Luke before Artemis came to take the sky from her, so I knew a demigod could do it, and I knew that I'd do it anyway out of sheer stubbornness and determination if nothing else. Artemis had a better chance of protecting my friends and getting us out of the situation alive than I did and she needed to be freed. So, I took it.” 

Piper felt a little like she’d just been punched in the gut. From beside her, Leo made a weird squeaking noise reminiscent of a dog toy. Jason looked like he’d had the air knocked out of him, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Further down the table, Hazel had one hand over her mouth and the other clutching Frank’s sleeve, staring at Percy, aghast. Frank, for his part, had dropped his head back and was staring blankly at the ceiling. 

“That’s it,” he said, sounding resigned. “I’ve finally cracked. All the pressure and weirdness finally got to me, and I cracked. Hazel, I love you, you’re like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’ll come visit me in the psych ward, right?” 

Hazel made a strangled kind of noise in the back of her throat and her eyes widened from shock into horror. “Frank! I would never let them lock you in an asylum! I would much rather take care of you myself, even if you really had ‘cracked’, before letting one of those . . . places get you!” 

Alright. Piper was confused. And, to be fair, Frank looked utterly bewildered as well. For a moment no one said anything, but then Percy snapped his fingers and pointed at Hazel with a wince. 

“Oof; forties asylums. Yeah, I wouldn’t want myself or a loved one to end up in one of those either. But asylums don’t really exist anymore, attitudes around mental health have changed pretty drastically and mental health problems are handled much better now,” Percy said gently. “There aren’t lobotomies anymore, and ‘electric shock therapy’ is pretty frowned upon.” 

From beside him, Annabeth made a small sound of realization before nodding and chiming in. 

“There are still people who are gonna be assholes about it, but for the most part, people are pretty understanding. Mental institutions, like psych wards, are meant to be places of healing where people who are struggling can get help and care.” 

“New Rome actually has numerous therapists available to legionnaires, current and retired, all of them retired legionnaires themselves. And I’m sure that after all this is over, they’d be more than open to helping any demigod, no matter which camp they’re from,” Jason added, smiling gently. 

Piper resisted the urge to sigh. Gods, she loved him. He was so sweet. 

They all gave Hazel a moment to absorb and process the information before Percy continued with his story. 

“So, I took the sky from Artemis. Most of the fight is pretty hazy after that, I don’t remember much of what happened while I was under there.” Percy shrugged the sentence away like it wasn’t a big deal, but Piper was struggling to remember how to breathe. “Eventually, someone punted Atlas back under the sky and I was able to let go. Man, my shoulders ached something fierce and I was pretty down for the count. But there was still fighting going on and stuff to be done, so I got up and joined the fight. We killed the monsters, Thalia kicked Luke off a cliff, Annabeth was safe, Artemis was free, Atlas was back where he belonged, and we had won. But we lost Zoë. She’d been poisoned earlier and then further injured when she fought Atlas, her father. Artemis turned her into a constellation, The Huntress, and Thalia became her new lieutenant.” 

Again, he said that like it was no big deal, but Piper couldn’t begin to imagine how painful, or even how tiring, it must have been to hold up the sky for even a few minutes. To then jump immediately into battle without a chance to recuperate or anything? Oh, yeah, and you can’t forget that Percy was only thirteen when this happened! Gods, Piper thought, Percy really is just . . . like that, huh? 

She’d heard whispers, between the stories of Percy’s impossible feats. Heard mutterings and murmurings, seen knowing glances and eyes filled with awe, felt undercurrents of fear just barely lacing someone’s voice. It had just been bits and pieces at first, and Piper had still been under the impression that everyone was just pulling her leg and making crazy shit up about the infamous Percy Jackson. 

But now . . . well. Now that she’s seen him fight, and now that she knows all the stories she’d been told were true and likely not exaggerated, those whispers and looks of awe, that hint of fear? They all made sense.  

Maybe Percy Jackson was just a bit more god than mortal. 

“Okay,” Leo piped up and startled Piper out of her spiraling thoughts. Annabeth was watching her with a knowing glint in her eyes and a small, knowing smirk twisting the corner of her mouth. “Okay, so that story was wild, I think we can all agree,” Leo said, then held his finger up when Percy went to protest. “Not you, you don’t get an opinion, you are weirdly nonchalant about doing insane shit, let the rest of us freak out about it.” 

Percy shrugged and closed his mouth. 

“But!” Leo continued. “You still haven’t told us where the grey streaks came from, dude.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Percy snorted. “Souvenirs from holding the sky. Mortal bodies aren’t built for that kind of burden. A normal mortal wouldn’t have stood a chance, but demigods can survive it because we’re half god.” he shrugged. “It puts immense strain on your body and mind, and I doubt most demigods would be able to manage anything longer than a few minutes.” 

Annabeth snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and the grey hair is the least of our ‘souvenirs’,” she said blithely. “We both ended up with fucked up wrists and backs from that little adventure. Percy usually wears wrist braces on bad days, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that Hera deemed those unnecessary or something when she snatched him, because he was wearing them the last time I saw him before he went missing and now they’re gone.” she said, and narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend. 

“Hey, you haven’t been wearing yours, either, Wise Girl. What’s your excuse?” Percy huffed, pouting at her. 

“I was too worried about you,” she said quietly, ducking her head in a way that had it been anyone else would have made Piper think she was hiding a blush. “I couldn’t think about anything else while you were gone, and the pain in my wrists paled so much in comparison to the pain of not having you at my side, of not knowing if you were safe. Finding you was the only thing that mattered to me.” 

Percy reached out to gently cup Annabeth’s jaw with one hand, the other grabbing her hand and guiding it to rest over his heart. “Well, you have me now. And you’re never getting away from me again. As long as we’re together, yeah?” he said softly, lifting her chin so she would have to meet his eyes. 

Annabeth let out a light, watery laugh, leaning into the warmth of Percy’s palm. “As long as we’re together,” she repeated, voice just as soft, and matched Percy’s answering grin. They leaned their foreheads together for a quiet moment, then shared a tender kiss, and Piper thought her head might explode. 

Okay. Literally what the fuck. How were they so perfect together? Like, that had to have been one of the sweetest things Piper had ever heard. It was sickening. Leo, apparently, agreed with her. 

“Okay, there’s no way you guys are real,” he said, sounding slightly hysterical. “The pain in my wrists paled in comparison to the pain of not having you at my side’? ‘Finding you was the only thing that mattered’? ‘As long as we’re together’?” he threw his hands up in the air before thunking his head down on the table. “You’re making the rest of us look bad!” 

Percy laughed and Annabeth rolled her eyes at Leo’s dramatics, her head now tucked into the crook of Percy’s neck where she leaned back against his chest. 

Well, one thing was for sure. Piper was never going to doubt a story about Percy Jackson again, if only to save herself the heart attack that came from listening to him tell the story later. 

Oh. And she really needed to up her game.

[kittenlittle24]

Chapter 6: The Pen Theory of Relativity

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Story Masterlist

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Pedro Pascal x Fem!reader

Summary: Pre-med perfectionist [Your Name] thought her gap year internship at The Late Night Hour would be a fun, low-stakes break before med school. Then she literally runs into Pedro Pascal backstage—and somehow becomes his secret lifeline in the chaos of live TV. Between cue cards, coffee runs, and chemistry that won’t quit, she starts to wonder: is this just a summer detour… or something more?

Tag list: @pascal-mynightlyobsession @wanniiieeee @theendwhereibegin

The first thing you registered was the birds. Their chirping pierced through your sleep-fogged brain, too loud, too early for a Saturday. You groaned, dragging the pillow over your face—until the memories of last night crashed over you all at once.

The scrape of Pedro's stubble against your lips when you kissed his cheek sent a fresh wave of butterflies tumbling through your stomach. They multiplied as you remembered his warm palm at the small of your back, his fingers pressing just slightly through the fabric of your shirt as he helped you into the car. That look he gave you under the diner's neon lights—like he wanted to memorize you—made your ribs ache even now.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet room.

You fumbled for it, squinting at the brutal 6:17 AM glaring back at you. Who texts at—

[Pedro, 1:19 AM]: Home. Found something of yours in my car.

(Photo: Your chewed-up ballpoint pen resting on his nightstand beside a half-drunk glass of water. Condensation ring staining the wood. A medical textbook peeked out from under a script.)

Him: You press so hard when you draw. Left grooves in the napkin. Tried to flatten it—now it looks like a crime scene.

[Pedro, 5:55 AM]: Walking into makeup. Wanted you to see this first.

(Photo: The same pen tucked in his shirt pocket, his reflection grinning in a mirror framed by glowing bulbs.)

You stared at the screen, your pulse fluttering wildly in your throat. He'd kept your pen. He'd put it in his pocket. The butterflies in your stomach turned into something more like hummingbirds.

You: You woke me up at dawn on a SATURDAY to show me my own pen?

Him: Technically the birds woke you. I just provided quality entertainment.

You: Your definition of 'quality' needs work.

Him: Says the woman who drew a nervous system like a drunk spider.

You bit your lip, trying not to smile.

You:It was anatomically accurate!

Him: It was terrifying. Coffee at 3? I'll even return your weapon of mass destruction.

You: Only if you promise not to text me before noon ever again.

Him: No promises. But I'll bring espresso as a peace offering.

You dropped your phone onto your chest, pressing your palms to your flushed cheeks. The hummingbirds were now doing full acrobatics, their wings beating in time with your racing heart. Somewhere across town, Pedro Pascal was walking onto a set with your pen in his pocket and your name on his lips.

And you—you were wide awake now, drowning in Saturday sunlight and the terrifying, wonderful realization that this thing between you was far from over.

You caught your reflection in the fogged mirror—lips bitten pink, eyes glittering, cheeks flushed from more than the shower's heat. The clock on your nightstand read 8:53 AM.

Six hours and seven minutes until 3 PM.

Your fingers hovered over your phone. Then you dialed Lena.

It rang seven times before a groggy voice answered, "This better involve fire or free food."

"Come over," you whispered, pacing your spotless kitchen. "I'll make pancakes. And it'll be worth it, I promise."

A beat of silence. Then sheets rustled violently. "You're scary competent at 9 AM on a Saturday. I'm intrigued."

Lena slammed your apartment door shut with her hip, her pajama pants inside out and one sock missing. She took in your styled hair, the blue button-down, and the way you kept touching your phone like it might combust.

"Okay, what," she demanded, tossing her purse onto your couch, "could possibly make you this dressed up before noon on a Saturday?"

You shoved a mimosa into her hands. "Swear you won't tell a soul."

Lena's eyes narrowed. "Is it something illegal?"

"Promise me."

She crossed her heart solemnly. "Fine. I'll take it to my grave. Now talk."

You handed her your phone.

Lena's face transformed as she scrolled through the texts - first wrinkling in confusion at the photo of your pen on an unfamiliar nightstand, then narrowing her eyes suspiciously at the criminally-grooved napkin. When she reached Pedro's shirt-pocket selfie, her mouth fell open in dawning horror.

She looked up slowly. "You went out with Pedro Pascal."

You bit your lip.

"And he kept your pen. Like some... some..." She waved her hands wildly. "Romantic serial killer trophy!"

"Lena—"

She pointed at you. "Tell me everything. Don't you dare miss a single detail."

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Pedro: How's your Saturday shaping up?

Lena made a sound like a deflating balloon. "Oh my god he's texting you right now."

You: My best friend is currently dissecting my life choices.

Lena snatched the phone. "Add a winky face!"

You retrieved phone “No!”

Pedro: Should I send backup? (Also—wrapped early. 2:00 instead?)

Lena's scream rattled the windows.

You: Backup? How much backup are we talking?

Pedro: Only the essentials: coffee, pastries, and me. You don't need anything else.

You almost dropped your phone.

You: I can't decide if you're being ridiculously charming or annoyingly forward.

Pedro: Maybe both?

Lena leaned over, reading the texts over your shoulder. She let out a low whistle. "Okay, I need to know—what are you gonna do with him?"

You pulled your phone away, a nervous laugh slipping out. "I don't know yet. Honestly? I don't even know if this is a date or not. I mean, he's Pedro Pascal."

Lena grinned devilishly. "That's exactly why you need to say yes. Because... he's Pedro Pascal."

You sighed, running a hand through your damp hair. You hadn't expected any of this. One night of late-night diner food and awkward conversation, and here you were, playing text ping-pong with a man who made entire fandoms melt.

You: Alright, 2:00 works. I'll meet you there.

You hit send, then stared at your phone, heart pounding in your chest. The reality of the situation settled in. Pedro Pascal. You had no idea what he wanted, or what you wanted for that matter.

But you were about to find out.

Lena watched you intently. "You're doing this. I can feel it."

Pedro: I'll be there at 2. Don't make me wait.

You: I'll try my best. See you soon, Pedro.

You set the phone down and looked at Lena, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Well," you said, trying to keep your voice even, "I guess I'm getting coffee with Pedro Pascal today."

Lena raised her mimosa glass, eyes gleaming with excitement. "You're doing more than that. You're going to savor it."

And with that, you could only nod, knowing that nothing would ever feel quite the same after today.

You took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach again. You tried to focus on the task at hand—pancakes, coffee, keeping your cool—but every thought kept drifting back to Pedro. He was actually coming. For coffee. With you.

Lena was watching you closely, her grin never faltering. "I'm going to need details after," she said, pointing a finger at you. "Every. Single. Detail."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm sure you'll get them."

There was no point trying to act nonchalant. You'd texted Pedro Pascal, agreed to meet him, and now your entire body felt like it was running on pure adrenaline. What was happening?

Your phone buzzed, making you jump.

Pedro: I'm on my way. See you soon, beautiful.

You stared at the screen for a moment, heat flooding your cheeks. Beautiful?

Lena snatched your phone out of your hands, her eyes sparkling. "Okay, now I'm jealous. You're officially on your way to some rom-com fantasy."

You tugged the phone back, your pulse hammering in your neck. "I'm freaking out," you confessed, rubbing your hands on your jeans. "What if I say something stupid?"

"Then you'll say something stupid," Lena said with a shrug. "But at least you'll be saying it to Pedro Pascal. He's basically a walking apology for every stupid thing you've ever done."

You laughed nervously, glancing at the clock. 1:35 PM. Less than thirty minutes until you're going to see him again.

The next few moments felt like a blur. You managed to pull yourself together, fixing your hair, checking your outfit for the third time—like that would actually matter when he walked in. The truth was, no amount of prep could help with the overwhelming realization that the man who had just texted you about pastries and coffee would be standing in front of you soon.

Lena clapped her hands in your face. "Focus. We need to get you out the door with your dignity intact."

You shot her a grateful smile, trying to ignore the jittery feeling in your chest. "Thanks. I think."

As you grabbed your jacket, your phone buzzed one more time.

Pedro: I'll be the guy with the coffee and the smirk.

You blinked at the message, a smile tugging at your lips. The smirk? You could already picture it.

Lena winked at you. "Go. Savor it, remember?"

With one last deep breath, you made your way out the door, your heart pounding louder than the traffic on the street.

You stepped outside, feeling the cool air wrap around you like a welcome distraction from the nervous energy buzzing through your body. The walk to the coffee shop wasn't long—just a few blocks, but your mind felt like it was racing through every possible scenario. What was it going to be like? Was it going to feel like a casual meet-up, or was there going to be some unspoken tension? Would he think you were crazy? You had no idea, but you were about to find out.

The streets were quieter than usual for a Saturday afternoon, and the sound of your boots clicking on the pavement seemed unnervingly loud. Your fingers gripped your phone tightly, the texts with Pedro still fresh in your mind. The way he'd called you beautiful... it made your heart stutter every time you thought about it.

Lena's words echoed in your head. "You're doing more than that. You're going to savor it."

You stopped for a second, your heart skipping as you looked up at the coffee shop in the distance. It was a cozy little spot, tucked between two older buildings, with outdoor seating that looked out over the busy street. A couple of people were lingering outside, enjoying the rare sunny moment of the day.

And then you saw him.

Pedro was leaning against the doorframe, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket, his usual effortless charm radiating from every inch of him. His dark hair was slightly tousled, a few stray curls falling into his forehead in that perfect, casual way. He hadn't noticed you yet, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to take him in—the way the sunlight hit him, the slight smile playing on his lips even as he checked his phone.

You took a deep breath and started walking toward him, trying to quell the butterflies that felt like they were about to take flight.

He looked up just as you reached him, his face lighting up in that way you'd seen in the photos and interviews—like he was genuinely happy to see you.

"Hey," he said, his voice warm, deep, and just a little rough from the morning's work. "I'm glad you came."

You smiled, trying to keep your voice steady. "How could I turn down coffee with Pedro Pascal?"

He chuckled, stepping forward just enough to give you space but also to make you feel his presence. "I'm glad you said yes," he said softly, looking you up and down with a hint of appreciation in his eyes that made your stomach do another flip. "And you look incredible, by the way."

You blushed, trying to brush off the compliment. "I mean, it's just coffee." You shrugged, not sure if you wanted to downplay it or just ease the nerves that were still coursing through you.

Pedro shook his head, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Nah, this feels like more than just coffee."

The way he said it sent a ripple of something through you—something that could've been excitement, or maybe the beginnings of anticipation. He opened the door for you, the bell above it ringing softly as you stepped inside.

The scent of fresh coffee and pastries filled your senses, grounding you in the moment. It was just you and him. No cameras. No fans. Just two people meeting in the quiet comfort of a coffee shop on a Saturday afternoon.

He gestured to the table by the window. "I already got us a spot," he said, leading you over to a small table. The window offered a view of the street, the bustling city scene framed by the peaceful little corner of the coffee shop.

You sat down across from him, still unsure of what this was—was this a date? Was it just casual? You couldn't tell. But there was something about being this close to him, his energy so easy and relaxed, that made the world outside feel distant.

"So," Pedro started, resting his hands on the table and giving you a mischievous look. "Tell me the most embarrassing thing you've ever done that I can't find on the internet."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension in your chest easing just a little. "Oh, that's a dangerous question." You raised an eyebrow, playing along. "But I'll answer if you promise not to google me afterward."

He grinned, leaning in slightly. "Deal."

You let out a sigh, then, feeling a bit more relaxed, launched into the story you'd been holding back from even your closest friends. It was a lighthearted topic, the perfect way to ease into this strange, new territory.

Silence settled between you, filled only by the hiss of the espresso machine and the soft jazz playing overhead. Pedro traced the handle of his mug—black coffee, no sugar—his calloused fingers leaving faint smudges on the ceramic.

"So." He nudged your pen across the table. The one he'd kept all night. "You really do chew these when you're nervous."

You snatched it back, the teeth marks glaringly obvious. "Only during exams. And apparently when famous actors drag me to sketchy diners."

Pedro threw his head back laughing, the sound warm and unrestrained. The barista glanced over with a smile, as if this was a side of him she'd never seen.

"Tell me something real," he said suddenly, leaning forward. The morning light caught the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. "Not the polite first-date answer. What's something you geek out about?"

The question startled you. This wasn't the practiced charm of red carpet Pedro—this was the man who'd Googled medical terms at 3 AM to understand your doodles.

"Terrible horror movie practical effects," you admitted. "The faker the blood, the better."

His grin turned wolfish. "I knew I liked you."

When his knee brushed yours under the table—first by accident, then deliberately—you didn't pull away.

[galaxymacbeth]

Travelin' Soldier pt. 3

The future.

cw: a very basic misunderstanding of the british military; mentions of death/suicide

Simon, Tommy said that I wasn’t supposed to hear him. He said it like I didn’t work at the pub every single week night. Drew told him he’s never allowed back. I hate you for making me promise to never stop loving you. I hate you for not promising me that you would come back to me. I hate myself for falling for you in the first place. How could you just leave me like this? Without you and with a life I don’t want to live? Fuck you. Harley

One Year Later

Tommy half sat on the stool, watching as Harley’s smile turned into a glare.

“You were told never to come back, Thomas.”

“I...Harley, I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice coarse and broken.

Harley only shook her head, trying to fight the tears welling in her eyes. Her back hit the bottles lining the wall and a short no had Drew stepping out from the kitchen.

“Tommy—”

He held an envelope out to her.

She wasn’t sure how she could see enough to take it and open it. It had already been opened.

Mr. Riley, We regret to inform you that Simon Riley has been missing for a year. At this time, we are unable to find him or his remains. He has been declared killed in action.

Harley couldn’t read anymore. Drew took the paper from her hands and shoved it into Tommy’s chest.

“Get t’fuck outta my pub, and if you ever show your face again, I’ll call the cops after I kick your ass, you hear me Tommy?”

The man was out of his seat and at the door before Drew could finish his threat. Drew had pulled Harley into his arms and Richie came running into the pub barking out questions as to why he’d seen Tommy leaving the place. It only took one look at Harley to understand.

“Why not?”

”Ma’am, you’re not listed anywhere in Mr. Riley’s files,” the woman said, ”we cannot legally give you any information.”

“I—his brother told me he was declared dead and I want to know how,” Harley hissed into the phone. The anger was overriding every single tear that threatened to spill out of her eyes.

”Are you his family? Wife?”

“No.”

”Then I, unfortunately, can’t give you any information about Mr. Riley. Thank you.” The call cut before Harley could argue further. She stared at her phone’s screen for a second before it hit the wall and shattered apart.

A scream followed and Richie came running out of the bathroom.

“Har, what’s wrong?”

“They won’t tell me anything,” she said as the anger made way for the tears it held back.

“That’s the Army for you,” he said as he sat beside her on the bed, “bunch of cunts who think they’re better than the rest of us.”

Harley bit out a laugh but shook her head. “All a matter of national security, I guess.”

“National security be fucked. I’m surprised he never put you on anything,” Richie said as Harley laid back and drew her fingers over the rough looking tapir.

“’S his right. Maybe he didn’t want me to get dragged into anything.” She curled into a ball and sighed. “Or want me to know the details of what happened to him.”

“Shite reason. Are you good if I go to work? Drew’ll understand if you want me to stay.” Richie stood and reached for his bag by the door. He’d spent the last week sleeping on her couch, catching her as she woke up in tears and from nightmares that rattled her brain. The last one, she explained, was Simon lying on the jungle floor, bleeding out while his platoon left him to die.

Drew had stopped by a few times, setting food on the counter for Richie to force feed her, before he disappeared back to Rosario’s. Harley was grateful for his hands-off care. Richie was suffocating, though he did keep her alive with his forceful 'you need to eat's and shoving her into the bathroom to shower. They both teamed up to get her to do school work. They shoved her into a booth when she showed up at work and watched her as she wrote papers two weeks late and read over a history book she was supposed to do days ago.

Whether she liked it or not, Harley was going to have to keep living.

Two Years Later

The news came out of the blue and unwelcome. Harley handed off another drink and turned to the next customer.

“What can I get you?”

“Are you Harley,” the girl asked. Harley sighed, but nodded at her, hoping she just wanted to know her name before ordering. “You knew Tommy Riley?”

“Whatever Tommy thinks he has to say is of no consequence to me,” Harley said, hands bracing the bar, “are you buying something?”

He’d sent friend after friend in the months after wrecking her entire world. Each one carried another message, sometimes a hand written letter, begging her to talk to him or even his mother. She’d let Drew and Richie read each of them—just in case they had information about Simon in them—before throwing them out without ceremony.

“I have to tell you something,” the girl insisted, leaning over the bar, “can I talk to you somewhere?”

Harley groaned and slipped a hand under the bar, slapping for the panic button, “Tommy knows how I feel about—”

“Tommy’s dead.”

Her hand froze and Harley looked up at her. The girl’s lips were drawn into a tight line and her eyes stared into Harley’s soul. Nothing about it was a joke and Harley somehow felt like her world had been upended again.

“How?”

“Can we go somewhere to talk about this? It’s...” the girl glanced around to take in the pub. There were people everywhere, it being a Saturday afternoon with a Premier League game on the way. “It’s not pretty.”

Harley pressed the panic button and nodded, “the office. Give me a minute.” She turned as Richie burst through the kitchen doors, head swiveling to see where Harley was.

“What the fuck’d you press that for,” he hissed at her as he got to her side.

“Cover for a minute. I have to talk to her,” Harley said, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the girl. Richie’s eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted in question. “She said Tommy’s dead.”

It didn’t take long for Richie to shove Harley towards her and call Drew from the back. Drew gave Harley a single look before she lead the girl into the back office.

They sat across from each other, Harley taking up Drew’s usual spot behind the desk, and didn’t say a word. Not for three minutes before the girl broke the silence.

“I’m an old friend of Tommy’s. And Simon’s. Um...” she rubbed at the back of her neck. Harley’s eyes snagged on the scars dotting her arms. “Tommy got better last year. He went to rehab for real—don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you think. I’m just surprised that Tommy finally did it,” Harley said as she pulled her gaze from the girl’s arms to her face, “he was bad the last time I saw him.”

She scoffed, but her miniature smile betrayed the noise, “he said you kicked him into gear. Screaming and crying and he wanted to get better so you could meet his son.”

“Tommy has a son?”

“Had a son. The entire Riley family was murdered. A few weeks ago, Tommy, his wife Beth, his son Joey, and his mother were found dead,” the girl’s voice dimmed as she spoke and her head dropped to stare into her lap, “they think their father did it.”

“Where’s he?”

“Dead. Found ‘im with a bullet wound to the head yesterday. They’re closing the case because of it.”

Harley nodded and her hands folded into her lap. “So you came here to...ruin my day?”

“N-no! No! I just...Tommy left you a few things and no one else wanted to try to find you. He,” she dug through her pockets until she pulled a thick envelope from them, “he kind of made it clear that you hated him.”

Harley didn’t. She knew she couldn’t hate Tommy but it was easier to let him believe that than cry to him about what she’d lost. It was harder losing a brother than a lover. But then he’d gotten better? Had a family and never once told Harley? She had to assume it was for the best but—

The envelope waved in her face, “here.”

“What is it?”

The girl shrugged as she stood on shaky legs, “dunno. The will just said the envelope labeled Harley was for you. I wasn’t gonna open it.”

“Thanks,” Harley said under her breath, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Me too,” she chuckled, “it was your loss too, y’know. Tommy considered you family even if you didn’t want shit to do with him.” Harley nodded and the girl took it as her sign to leave. The door shut quietly behind her and Harley was left with a single envelope and her thoughts.

So she tore into the paper.

A pair of circular dog tags on a chain and a note tumbled onto the desk.

Harley, These are a replica of Simon’s tags. They never recovered them, so I had some made for mum and you. He’s got a grave you can visit. I want you to know I got better. You’d love Beth because she’d just like you. A bitch when she wants to be but keeps me in place. Joey’d love to meet you. He’s turning 3 next April and I’d like you to come if you can forgive me. And I told mum about you and Simon. She’d like to have you over for Christmas if you don’t have plans. Said she wanted to give you the ring she saved for Simon to give to whoever he wanted to marry. She thinks it was supposed to be you. I think so too. I’m sorry Harley I never meant to hurt you when we both needed each other. Love your brother, Tommy

Nine Years Later

Harley groaned as she shifted the rack of glasses in her hands. The dishwasher was broken. It had to be. Nothing was coming out clean and Richie had just taken off for the month to go celebrate his five year wedding anniversary.

“Should have hired that other fuckin’ kid,” she grumbled to herself as she shoved the rack onto the slick metal counter in the kitchen. A knock came at the kitchen and Grey pushed it open.

“Sorry, Harley, I got caught up in the library,” they said as they dropped their bag onto the desk in the back.

“Don’t worry, honey, just get ready for more work. Washer’s broken and I have to call it in again,” Harley nodding to the glasses.

“No problem. I’ll get started.” The teen grabbed their apron and went to the sink.

Harley let out another sigh and moved to the front of the pub. There was just one regular, Mr. June, sitting at the bar.

“Howdy, Mr. June,” she said as she got to him. He smiled up at her and nodded his glass. Grey must have filled it before they got to the kitchen. She busied herself with checking the stock of beer and liquor behind the counter. Her eyes snagged on a picture shoved between the mirror and the frame. Drew, skinny and frail looking, between her and Richie at the small party where Drew announced Harley was taking over ownership of the pub. He’d passed only a few days after the picture and Harley was missing him more than normal as the ninth anniversary came up on her.

The bell above the door chimed, a feature Harley had convinced Drew to add a year after Harley got too jumpy when customers didn’t make noise before they asked for a drink. The bell itself made her jump on occasion, but Drew was thankful that he had less customers complain about the shrill American behind the bar.

“Be with you in a minute!”

“No rush, love,” a gruff voice replied as Harley tilted the bottle of gin in her hand. She slapped the back bar for her pen, but Mr. June only said “hair” before she giggled and grabbed it from her ear. Jotting down gin, Harley set the bottle down and finished the row.

She turned to see the men sitting in the booth across from her. Years ago, Richie had put the smallest plaque he could get made on the small sliver of wood near the floor. Simon’s Booth. Harley cried for two hours upon seeing it shine up at her.

Based on the men in the booth, she felt it was a fitting spot. They were quiet and polite looking, that much she could tell. The one with a mohawk was itching to start shit and Harley immediately knew he had to be Scottish. She could only imagine the way he spoke was just like Mrs. MacIntosh and her neighbor, Mrs. MacTavish. The man sitting beside him was shushing him and glancing around to make sure no one else — all two of them in the pub — was being bothered by his friend. He was the prettiest, Harley decided, with his tanned skin and sharp face. The union jack hat only made him look younger.

It didn’t take a look at the other two to know they were military. Her hand instinctively grabbed for the tags hanging around her neck and she rubbed her thumb over Riley as she approached the table.

The man who’d spoken to her sat right above the tiny plaque and gave her a smile through his beard as he set his boonie hat on the table.

“What can I get you boys,” Harley asked as she leaned against the table.

“Yer bes’ Scotch,” the Scot said, slamming a hand on the table.

“Christ, Soap. Can you behave for more than two minutes,” the pretty one hissed, “just a pint, um, Stella if you have it.”

“How’s Beam for you,” she asked, biting back the grin on her face as the Scot, Soap, glared down at her.

“’Ats yer best? C’mon, bonnie, ya got better,” he said.

Her laugh broke into the air and she nodded, “how’s Tobermory?”

“Aye, now yer talkin’!”

“It’s Ledaig 18, can ya handle that?”

His face twisted again and he scoffed at her, “lass, do I look like I cannae handle m’self?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time in the Highlands with a lot of Scots who didn’t make it to nine p.m. with me, Soap,” she said with a pop and a shake of her head, “ya dinnae look much differen’.”

The disgust on his face was wiped away for a grin and a boisterous laugh. The pretty one and one who’d spoken to Harley first joined in the laughter.

“I like ya,” Soap said with a point.

“What about you two?” Harley smiled at him and turned to the others. The boonie hat man smiled bigger and nodded.

“Just another glass of Scotch, please.”

She turned her eyes to the remaining man. He sat back, almost hiding behind his friend. A black hood pulled up and what looked like a mask over his face. Harley had heard some people were getting another round of covid, but it didn’t seem like he was too concerned with it based on how fit the other three were. Maybe it was just to keep people from asking questions. The military wasn’t kind to anyone and she was sure he had scars to hide.

“Anything for you, honey?” Her voice lowered and she stood straight. Harley didn’t notice the way the other three watched her as she softened her gaze and voice at the appearance of him.

But he only held up a hand and shook his head.

“Alright, two Scotches and one Stella. I’ll be right back,” she said with a tap of her fist to the table. She worked quietly behind the bar and Mr. June put his tab total on the bar as he stood to leave. Harley could hear the table whispering, but she’d spent ten years perfecting the art of not listening to people when they didn’t want to be heard. Too often, she’d heard women explain in explicit detail about their latest score or men boast to others about how their girlfriends had no clue there were two of them. Though she did call one girlfriend once. Too nice of a girl not to warn.

She glanced back, noting that none of the men were watching her, as she slipped into the kitchen.

“Grey, do we have any brownies ready?”

They glanced back at the oven, “they’ll be done in a second. Need one?”

Harley nodded and let the kitchen door close behind her, “yeah, there’s a guy out there that looks like he needs it.”

Grey grinned and let go of the sink hose.

“Picking up more strays?”

“No,” Harley scoffed, “he’s here with some army friends and he looks like he needs a little pick me up. I’m waiting for the kettle to finish so I can make him—”

“A Harley special?” Harley’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed at the teen. But the kettle cut off any retort she had and she left to make the tea.

Harley piled the drinks and fresh brownie on a tray and carried it over to the table.

“Oi, coulda helped ya, lass,” Soap said as she set it down.

“Now, what kind of pub would this be if I let customers do my job? I trust you to do yours and I can do mine,” she said as she set the ordered drinks around.

“I know you didn’t order anything—and I won’t be offended if you don’t want it—but you looked like you could use a little pick me up,” she said as she set the brownie and tea cup in front of the masked man. He lifted his head to watch her move. “It’s Irish breakfast tea with brown sugar and—”

“Ginger.”

It felt like the world ceased to exist. The hum of the sink in the kitchen ceased. The sound of a car outside the open doored pub ceased. The laughter from Soap almost tipping over the Stella ceased. The memory of tears and days spent in bed ceased. The ten year old ache in her chest ceased.

“Simon.”

“Hi, Yankee.”

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt.3

[wytybbyds]

I'm just looking out for my girl

Pairings - Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary - you talk to JJ at the movies

Warnings - none really

A/n - First fic on here, feedback is appreciateeeeed <3 i was imagining this with s2 but this pic fit sooooo

You walked with the three boys towards the open area where people took their seats in front of the big screen. Kelce and Topper walked in front of you, chattering about parties. Rafe walked by your side, his arm occasionally brushing against yours when the both of you took a step with the opposite foot. They chose a place at the far back as they unfolded the camping chairs they brought. Placing them on the ground in a row.

”Bro, what about my chair?” You groaned at Topper after you saw that there were only three chairs in front of you.

”Uuuuh.” Topper's hand went up to scratch at the back of his neck as he looked over the chairs that were indeed only three. As he didn't seem to have a response, Rafe tugged at your arm. You turned to him and he led you with him to the chair on the far left.

“We can share.” He murmured as he sat down onto the chair tugging you with him before you could protest. You landed with your ass on his lower thighs. Big hands came up on the side of your waist tugging you further up his lap, your back lining up with his chest.

As the movie played Rafes finger drew circles on your upper thigh just at the end of your shorts. During the movie boredom crept upon you and you caught yourself with half closed eyelids. You turned your head to the side, your lips landing close to Rafes.

”I'm gonna get a drink.” You whispered. Rafe gave a slight nod at that and by the armrests of the chair you pushed yourself up on your feet. You walked out from the audience of the movie making your way towards the drink stand. The man in the stand was wiping the table off with a cloth as you approached. His eyes came up to meet yours as he smiled welcomingly at you. He threw the cloth to the side wiping his hands off on the apron hanging around his neck.

”A beer, thank you.” You placed some cash on the table pushing it towards him.

”Right up.” He grabbed the cash, shoving it into his back pocket. You smiled at him as you leaned your elbows onto the table watching as he started to pour it up.

”If it isn't Lil looking as pretty as ever.” You turned at the mention of your name. Meeting the face of none other than JJ Maybank a smile tugging at his lips.

”Whats up.” Our hands meet in a handshake. The one he and his friends had taught me, that they had in their friend group.

”Yeah, yeah all good. You?" He pulled out some cash from his back pocket, putting it down onto the table at our side.

”Bored out of my mind, but good.” You chuckle while JJ holds up four fingers at the guy in the stand.

”You here with the others?” You ask looking out at the audience, seeing if maybe you could see them if he was.

”Yeah.” He points them out in the audience. You follow his hand as you spot Kie and Pope sitting in the middle.

”Over there, and you?” He jerked his head towards me.

”Rafe, Topper and Kelce.” He snorted as he shook his head averting his eyes.

”Of course.” He muttered under his breath. Seemingly a little annoyed.

”What?” Although knowing the answer you asked anyway. You had not lived in Kildare for that long, but long enough to know that kooks and pogues didn't have the best of relationships. Especially the two groups you hung out with.

”Don't like ‘em.” He shrugged, his lips pressing together in a thin line. The man at the stand pushed your drink towards you and you watched the liquid in it gup. You looked up at the blond haired boy again.

"C'mon JJ.” The boy locked eyes with you watching the unserious look on your face. Your eyes telling him to stop acting up.

”They're not that bad.” He coughed a laugh at you.

”Not that bad?” He shook his head in disbelief.

”He gotta be hitting it pretty good then.” His tone turned suggestive.

”Bro, shut your mouth.” You said with a slightly amused look on your face. But you coulndt help but also feel a tad bit flustered at his comment. He just grinned and you rolled your eyes looking away hiding the feeling from him.

”Hey, im always here if he cant get the job done.” He leaned in his breath hitting your face. He was obviously joking and his teeth tugged playfully at his bottom lip.

”Yeah, yeah.” You waved him off trying to hide your smile, finding him amusing. As your head turned away, eyes looking over the crowd. They landed on the three boys that had your company. All three intently watched the interaction between you and JJ. Cold stares were thrown your way. The boy in front you still leaned in close.

”Uh oh, now i'm in trouble.” JJ whispered, a sarcastic tone to his voice. He referred to the boys watching us and you chuckled at his comment turning your head back to him.

”Nah, fuck this shit.” Rafe rose from his camping chair, almost knocking it over from the quick movement. Irritation towards the blond boy at your side bubbled up inside him. He threw the empty plastic cup to the side as he took long strides towards the drink stand.

You picked up your drink as you watched JJs eyes look past your shoulder. His previous soft features faded and was replaced with a cold one.

”Sup Rafe.” His tone was short and had nothing friendly about it. You turned your head slightly seeing the tall boy now stand beside you.

”Whats up, Maybank.” Rafe returned JJs stern voice, his hands deep in his pockets as he looked intently at him.

”Not much, just getting drinks.”

”Yeah, you have 'em.” He said back, nodding his head towards the table where four drinks now stood. JJ grabbed the four drinks in his two hands slightly struggling to pick them up.

”You want help.” You giggled, reaching your hand out to give him support.

”Nah, it's all good princess.” The tall boy beside you chuckled darkly at JJ words. You just smiled at the boy as he turned around and walked away. You turned towrads Rafe, his eyes glued to JJ watching him walk away. His eyes then laid upon you, his stare intimidating. He moved closer, his broad shoulders caging you in hiding you from curious eyes.

”The fuck you talking to JJ for?” He said calmly.

”He's my friend.” You stated.

“Friend.” He muttered under his breath, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he averted his eyes.

”You giggle and shit like that with all your little friends?” His piercing eyes came back and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. His hatred towards the boy getting slightly on your nerves.

”Hey, you gon’ answer me?” His voice grew meaner as his hands came up and gripped your shoulders.

”Yeah maybe I do.” You snapped, growing annoyed by him. His hands fell back to his side, confusion now apparent in his blue eyes.

”Why are you so bitchy?” His eyebrows scrunched up and a look of distaste took over his features.

”Bro.” You deadpanned. ”You're the one freaking out about me literally being social.” He looked away at that, his lips pressed tightly together. He stepped closer, his chest almost brushing up against yours.

”I'm just looking out for my girl, yeah?” You bent your neck back to look at his face. Your head tilted slightly to the side, your heart couldn't help but to flutter at the words. My girl.

”Yeah?” He repeated, longing for your reassurance. You met his eyes that had turned softer. How did he make you go from irritated to this feeling, whatever it was, in such a short amount of time. Now you felt content all of a sudden.

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

”Mhm.” You nodded at him, a soft smile on your lips.

”Good, good.” He looked down at your intertwined hands before he tugged you along with him. Back towards your seats. As you were walking you caught JJ staring your way. But his eyes were not you. Rather your hand, holding Rafes. When you got back to Kelce and Topper, Rafe tugged you down onto his lap again. His hands now placing themselves onto either side of your waist. He smiled for himself knowing that he had purposely left the fourth camping stool at home.

[lambsouvlaki]

The Crime Lord - 3

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, no warnings

Word Count: 740

Summary: Jason never stopped his crime lord ways, but he did find someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Masterlist

In the early hours of the morning, she sat in a chair in the medical facility Red Hood’s most secure compound. 

Jason lay unmoving on the bed.

He was more gauze than skin. 

She had been too horrified to weep when she saw his injuries at first. During the long hours of surgery she broke down and bawled her eyes out. His lieutenants tried to give her privacy throughout the night, but mostly had to settle for not making eye contact. 

When the morning came she dried her eyes. Out of place civilian or not, she was the Red Hood’s partner and she didn’t weep while there was work to be done. Even if her heart felt like it was going to cave in on itself. 

She sat at his side with a laptop in front of her. The screen kept going dark. Jason’s eyes fluttered open. 

“Flint-” he croaked.

“He’s dead.” His traitorous second in command hadn’t survived the night. “Anja took his place. Something called protocol delta, apparently.” 

He breathed out a long sigh, his eyes falling shut again. His bandaged chest rose and fell. “Good. Good.” 

She swallowed the lump in her throat at getting to hear him again, lucid and whole, more or less. She put her things aside and dragged her chair closer to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been cooked.”

“You did look like a hotdog forgotten at the back of the grill for a while there.” 

He scoffed a laugh, then whined in pain. She bit her lip. “Lots of skin grafts in your near future… but you’re going to be alright.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flicked to her, the only part of him he could really move right now. There was a fear in his eyes that shattered her heart. 

“Yeah.” Her fingers brushed over his exposed forearm, one of the few parts of him she could actually touch. She grasped his wrist tight. “The world’s not taking you from me today.” 

“Sweetheart.” 

She leaned forward and brushed her lips softly as she could over the exposed wedge of his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed. His good arm rose a quarter inch further into her hold. 

When the moment drew to a close she sank back into her chair. His eyes looked damp. She didn’t want to make a fuss but he didn’t look away or gruffly clear his throat. 

“You know... I had a thought while falling into the fire,” he said. His voice was scratchy but strong. “A couple of thoughts actually. Like ‘I can’t believe I’m getting blown to death again,’ and ‘should’ve seen that coming.’”

“Better late than never, I suppose.”

“But more than all of that,” he said, ignoring her interjection, “I wished I’d married you.”

Her eyes widened. “Jay…”

“I thought… ‘you idiot. Didn’t even marry the girl of your dreams. And she was right there. Gonna leave behind a wonderful woman… who deserved better.’” He swallowed and looked at her sincerely. “You deserve better.”

“Are you proposing or breaking up with me?” she said with a laugh and tears in her eyes. “Full disclosure, the wrong answer here will get you yelled at.” 

“I’m proposing.” His thumb brushed her knuckle. “Should have gotten a ring. Sorry. I’ll get you one later. Didn’t want to waste any more time.” 

She tried to hold back a watery grin and failed. “I’m not hearing a question.” 

He smiled back as much as he could. 

“Baby. Sweetheart. My darling,” he drawled. Wrapped up like a mummy and still a cocky bastard, that was her Jay. “Will you marry me?”

“Yeah,” she said. “‘Course I will.” 

 “You’re the most beautiful, clever, patient, amazing woman in the whole world.”

She leaned forward and kissed the scarred skin of his wrist. “Then we’re matching. Because you’re the best man I’ve ever met.”

He blinked through glassy eyes. “That can’t be true.” 

“I wouldn’t have anyone else, Jay.”

The tears burst their banks and travelled down his cheeks to soak into bandages and gauze. 

“I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” 

She cradled his cheek lightly. He closed his eyes and leaned incrementally into it. 

She pulled her chair up as close as she could and leaned forward to rest her head against the empty side of his pillow. They enjoyed the closeness. 

“What happened to Flint?” he asked some time later.

“I shot him,” she said quietly.

“What!”

[chorizoa]

Entrail of faith — König x f!reader

part 2!!!!!!!! part 2 part 2 part 2!!!

pt.1 is here

I would like to state that I'm literally just throwing myself into this and letting the thoughts blurb; so if it seems messy, loose, or unorganized its bc I am trying my best :) sorry in advance for anything that may seem plot-holey, geographically incorrect, etc. please feel free to comment on my use of language, setting, wtv— I love feedback and want you guys to enjoy it!!!

this one is also a bit longer tee-hee, and also more revoling around you!

cw: more of konig being a stalker, more talk of kidnap and the like, very brief mention of a daddy kink/use of daddy as a title (its more of a sugar baby kinda way, but hes also just gross), he wants to take full advantage of you, he is very nasty but he loves you so :3

no sex.. yet.

You were a smart girl, but maybe if you were a smarter girl, you wouldn't find yourself staring at an empty message log— thumbs dancing over the screen while you gnaw, and gnaw, and gnaw at that pretty lower lip.

It's insane of you, you think. Giving salt to the interest of a stranger, a man who was clearly dangerous— could so obviously kill you given the chance— one you'd caught glances of during your shifts, always seeming to show up only when you work.. But— Christ.

  The years had not been kind, and being a girl settling into her early twenties, a totally foreign land to start a new life in— not a single soul to keep her warm— well, it embeds a certain sense of desperation. Perfect for men like König. Who, of course, could barely handle a woman under any legitimate means.

Inexperience dripped off of you like a waning ooze, glistening with incompetence for what you could be experiencing— a misted perfume that engulfed you, an aura that "spooked" most anyone anywhere near your age. It kept you at lengthy reach from others, and plastic toys had become your only solace in the pariah'ed life you've lived.

Not him, though, it drew him in— and he could taste it on his tongue, swirl it against his gums and swallow like the loveliest shot of Jager. You would be his favorite spirit to indulge in, and all you needed to do was speak.

He already knew your name, of course he did; so when you texted him— confirming that, yes, this was the cute girl from the diner, and frivolously providing your sweet name in your fluster— it didn't surprise him, but it did make him purr with satisfaction. You were so much closer now, so much easier to bend to his will than you could imagine.

Retirement wouldn't be too bad, it seemed.

Perfect, actually, when he really thought about it. Enough savings in the bank to keep him comfortable until he died of old age, or took an unexpected bullet in the neck; and with the added addition of you? Oh, he was going to bask in heaven's light every night. God had sent him his very own angel— maybe he'd pray, just to say thanks.

He wasn't worried about you not liking him— no, not a bit. It wasn't a choice in his mind, either you liked him, or you didn't… and what he had in mind for if you didn't — well.. it was a particularly nasty thing, and he certainly wasn't bringing it up in therapy. Lest he enjoy the comfort of a solitary, padded room with a jacket to match his confinement— maybe even a damp cell, if they felt so generous.

He was going to have you, whether he had to chain you up in his basement, chain you to his bed post, adorn you with a proximity collar— it didn't. matter.

He was going to have you, and you would have him— a smart girl like you would understand, right? He only wants what's best for you.

That's why he followed you home tonight. Silly girl, don't you know you should take the trolley? There's so many bad, scary men out here— you're lucky he watches your every step, and memorizes the direct path to your home from the shadows, someone could hurt you, sweet girl— and he'd have to make a mess, just for you.

He even watched as you poised your fingers to text him, that sharp sight was a blessing— and observing you as you gnaw at your bottom lip until it swelled was stored into a deep, dark part of his mind for later. Ever still, he found it so amusing how oblivious you were— you should really scan your surroundings more.

Though, when he made it to your home— he found a deep frown tugging at him. Oh, this simply would not do. This was not the place to be for his princess, his darling girl— no, not at all.

This rundown complex was much too grimy for one as stunning as you, everything paled in comparison to you— of course it did, nothing mattered like you— but this was just.. sad, nobody as lovely as you deserved to be so impoverished. The dappled foundation, the assumed stench of cigarettes that must cling to the walls within— he had to get you out of there, and fast.

He almost considered marching in right then, ripping you from the safety of your supposed "home"— but he knew better of it. You needed to be won delicately, you were so sweet, but wracked with nerves like a stumbling fawn— one wrong move, a step too quick, and you'd bolt— he could smell fear, and you held it like a cross to bear. That didn't keep him from feeling angry, however.

He was going to pray, offer thanks, but not anymore. No gracious lord would allow such divinity to suffer like this— no self-proclaimed "God of Man" would allow their subject to wallow in such filth. His sweet girl, he was going to give you much more— so much more than this. He would do what God had failed to. He would help you to understand the divinity of man— and what he had to offer. Father was roiling in his grave at the sacrilege.

That was a nice piece to chew on as he walked back to his car— of course he parked elsewhere, home was much too far to walk from— stuck in a wish-washy daydream of you worshipping him, kneeled at his feet and devoted just as you should be. He'd make it better, he'd make it all better, you need only give him time.

— What are you doing tomorrow night, maus?

He texts, already churning with ideas. Most of them are to capture you, of course, but we've established this— we can't do this. However, he is on the more mundane side of things, wondering how he can somehow pay your rent for a few months— or atleast until he can coax you out of that fucking hellscape in the worst part of town. Regardless, totally normal, gentleman-like, things.

— I work a shift from 17:30-21:00 tmrw night :( but I'll be free after work!!

You're even cute with the way you text, so fitting of you— it makes him chuckle, especially with how quickly you'd replied. In his mind, you're hovering over the phone, jumping at every notification in hopes of it being him.

— No worries, little one, I'd like for you to get your rest. Maybe I could walk you home tomorrow, get to know each other?

He's as articulate as ever, feeling as if you'd appreciate his use of grammar and pronunciation— he hopes you read books, he'd buy you a million books, make you read to him while he bounced you on his knee— maybe you'd call him daddy, if he spoiled you enough. He had so many plans for you, it almost made his head hurt, though his cock absorbed most of his rushing blood.

— That would be lovely :)

It would be, wouldn't it? He'd already walked you home now, you just hadn't known it (you'd never know,) and he'd be able to spend tomorrow evening staring at you the whole time— hence why he memorized the path, and for.. other reasons; but those weren't currently relevant, now were they?

— Good. See you then, Engel.

He could see you now, punching these little nicknames into a poorly guided translator— the blush smattering across your soft little cheeks, your eyes creasing as you couldn't help that smile— God, even the small things about you made his palms itch. He was so excited to have you, hold you, touch and use you when he got close enough. It wouldn't be long now.

He was always so good at planning things.

-

The following evening was a rampage. A festival, perhaps, had ripped through the small town— something about music, either way, the streets were eruptive with fervor.

You, just starting out here, are not well accustomed to this area's cultures— and when the café becomes swamped? Well, you're definitely fritzing for some form of substance. Anything to keep a smile on your face while grown adults trash your place of work, and the surrounding area, in a drunken wake. For crying out loud, you barely knew the language here, and people tend to forget any English instruction they've had once a fiery drink hits their system.

Austria. It'd be the death of you.

Forced to close early due to the mess— much to the dismay of drunk, middle-aged men looking for something greasy to fill their maws— the last hour of your day was spent putting a rag to the wall, the floors, the windows; anything your mind could think of, it had to be cleaned. Tired was an understatement, and 'aching' could not be a severe enough adjective for the sensation settling in your joints.

Maybe if you were a more aggressive person, you'd take it out on your manager. Take a bottle of bleach and splash it in his eyes, maybe a bit of strangulation— that was always on the forefront of your concious— and especially now, as he stood outside and lackadaisically sweeped at the "dirty" corner the building sat on. The lazy fuck, can't even make a proper payroll— the bleach sounded a bit more enticing.

You of course shove these thoughts into the supply closet, along with all the other cleaning products that had been collected from their strewn about positions across the diner. It was almost time to go home, maybe ten minutes or so— and you were getting paid for your last hour, come hell or high water. Rent didn't pay itself, and you almost wish you hadn't treated yourself last night to delivery with that tip König slipped to you— could've been handy.

If only you knew how he was itching to have you practically keep his wallet, you'd find out soon anyways.

You stood behind the bar, leaned into it with a placid expression on your face— slumped and tired, and there was no taming your hair. You partially wanted to cancel the little walk you had so eagerly agreed too, but thought better of it— exhaustion ate at you, however, almost in an irritable sense. The urge to cancel just got stronger, and stronger.

Until he was spotted down the street, that almost completely soured your mood— had not the very sight of him set your pulse to palpitate uncomfortably quick. You took a minute to really observe him, at least from a far. He was giant, no doubt about it— regardless of your size or shape, he dwarfed you, and he didn't have to be up close and personal to tell.

His face was mostly obscured, little black mask hanging across his features— this time around though, no sunglasses to hide his eyes— you were fluttering with excitement at the thought of someone's eyes, Jesus, you're kinda weird. Desperate girl, aren't you?

Regardless, he seemed a bit more.. exposing of himself— and, he was here before the agreed time, like an actual fucking man would do.

Huh, maybe the big giant wasn't a bad choice.

Maybe you just didn't know him well enough.

— Schatz! Nice to see you..

He was warm, inviting. If you didn't have sense in your head, you'd climb into his strong-looking arms, beg him to carry you home like a whiny child— of course, you didn't. Only offering him a smile, and taking his arm as he offered it— the sight making your heart stir a little more.

— Nice to see you too, König. I hope it wasn't too much trouble getting here, I know it's a mess out here right now.

You laugh, but you feel almost guilty for making him come all this way. Yes, he offered, yes, he came here anyways— but Innsbruck during a music festival wasn't exactly.. controlled, and he didn't seem to be the type to like crowds. Something you understood, and sensed very quickly.

— Nonsense, even more of a reason for me to accompany you, little one. Keep you safe.

He gives your arm a squeeze with his free hand, it's soft, gentle— so unexpected from hands that looked as if they could rip your throat out. A frisson of heat creeped it's way up your spine. You'd never been the type to depend on someone, or need someone— but hearing him speak that way.. it was definitely flipping some form of switch inside you.

— You're very kind.

You hum in response, taking a step closer to him as you walked— and he kept his eyes on you the whole time, the route burned into his mind. Though, your phrase did not fall on deaf ears— and he had to keep himself from shoving his tongue down your throat right there— you cannot say things like that to him, you are too good and pure.

— To you, at the very least.

— Why's that?

— Why not?

Banter could be good for the soul, and you almost felt desperate when he looked down to you— eyes creasing from what could only be a smirk. You felt flustered under his gaze, small and compact, but.. safe. Watched over, and protected.

Something about his eyes, his demeanor— the way he so graciously walked you along and made sure you didn't step on a single crack or bump in the sidewalk— it tip, tip, tipped you over into a fuzzy headspace you hadn't felt before. Something small, something compact, something malleable.

— Dunno. Men aren't usually kind.

— Boys, then. You are much too beautiful to be handled by a boy.

You cocked a brow at his statement, an amused chuckle leaving your tired lips. He was a strange man, no doubt caring, but even you could tell he harbored things— kept himself from saying and doing things that might be taken incorrectly, or be downright abhorrent. You should be afraid of him, you should run for the hills and scream for help, you should sense the predator who already has his claws dug deep into your skin. 

But you don't, and you don't think you ever would.

Call it string theory, call it hope, call it desperation or an offered entrail— but you placed faith in him, praying that he wouldn't make decorations of your guts— because something more spoke to you, something outside of the two of you held you together steadfast. Mother had always told you to heed universal implications.

— Are you from around here, König?

— Nein, places like this..? eh, not my style. The mountains are much quieter, prettier.

Just how far had this guy traveled? Innsbruck had mountains, yeah, but it wasn't the most secluded of places— quiet didnt exist here. You had to gauge that maybe he blew in from Salzburg, it got less noisy and more rocky the further you went along the North chain. Either way, it was clear to you now that he wasn't just strolling about, he definitely had an agenda.

— Mm. Quite right, starting to regret settling down in such a busy area. I've always enjoyed the quiet.

— Agreed.. What brings you to Austria, Maus?

A good question, a fine one. You didn't know, you got a lump sum from a dead relative— and took off running. America never suited you, and the country was falling to ruins; what would you have stayed for?

— Something refreshing.

— ..And that is..?

— Sights, sounds, self-recognition- I'm unsure, but it's better than home.

He seemed to understand that, a knowing hum vibrating through the berth of his chest. He curled your arm closer to his body, your hip brushing against him as he took an even, slow pace— clearly difficult for him, but you could only move so fast.

The closeness felt nice in that moment, like it was unnecessary to share words— just enough had been said. It was a different sensation flowing through you. Yes, to be frank, you'd been lusting over him since he gave you his number— a little attention can go a long way— but it was different. That feeling of safety was blanketed with another— familiarity.

— Any family, libeling?

— Estranged, haven't spoken to them in years.

Another knowing hum, but it was followed by an amused sound— a chuckle. If the melancholy of the fact hadn't been refreshed, the sound would've made you pounce like a starved animal. He was attractive as all hell— and you didn't even need to see his full face.

— What's funny?

You try not to sound offended, you aren't, not really. Though, his amusement is of interest to you.

— Nothing, I assure you. It just seems that you and I are very similar. You are an interesting little thing.

— Ha! I'm as face value as they come, I promise you that.

— Don't be so humble, it's unnecessary for a lovely girl like you. I'll be the judge of that.

It was almost as if he was scolding you, but you brushed it off with an amused huff of air— leaning into his shoulder as he walked you along. You could stop his heart with such a thing, you saw him so much differently than others, didn't you? What a rare girl you were.

He wound an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him. He was surprised by his own boldness, but the energy you held was so.. comforting, something in his core shook at the sensation— like a blockage finally being relieved. It could only get sweeter when you returned the gentle grasp, slipping an arm over his slender back.

— I.. this made my night better. Thank you.

You blushy little angel, of course, of course, anything for you. Oh, he needed to give you the world. He'd start a war for you— his very own Helen of Troy.

— Of course, sweet girl. Need to make sure you get home safe and happy, ja?

You laugh and squeeze his side, and he's pushing down another round of nasty thoughts like burning tequila. You have him chomping at the bit for every artifice of your affection.

— Such a gentleman..

— As I was raised to be, Schatz.

It burns him when he has to drop you off at that complex.. again. He wants nothing more than to take you home, invite you to a bed much-too-big, suffocate you in thread counts your wallet couldn't fathom— but it was much too soon, and you were much too angelic for him to ever want to spook you.

It burns you in turn, looking up at him with a shy smile. You want to invite him in, have him over for the night— but it seems you both agree on the terms of "much too soon", and you can't help but feel insecure at the.. state.. of your livingspace. It's nothing lavish, and it's moorish— maybe some other time.

— We should do this again.. I enjoyed this.

— I agree, liebling. Let me know when you work next, hm? Or maybe when you're free, I'll come visit you.

He made you feel as blushy as a school-girl, like you were a gift wrapped in fine bows just for him.

— I'll send you my schedule.

— Guten Mädchen.. I'll see you later then.

And, as if the gods had their hands on your shoulders, he leaned in— pulling his mask down just enough to kiss the top of your head before swiftly moving it back into place, and giving your cheek a quick brush with his thumb. Your skin was on fire, that cheek was never getting washed again.

Good fucking God, coming undone at the smallest touch, are we?

— Goodnight-! Get home safe..

He was already halfway down the block, damn, he's fast.

You're already getting obsessed, damn, he's good.

[vorchagirl]

“You’ve got a fever. Of course I’m not going anywhere." for Shepard/Kaidan? 👀👀👀 (Also, hi, Lena! I hope you're doing well, and happy new year, my friend! <3)

Hello my lovely friend! Happy New Year to you too! I was very happy to write this for you - a little bit of Kaidan and Shep sweetness! Enjoy!

“Shepard?”  

Her cabin was in near darkness as Kaidan quietly opened the door and peered in. He gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom, then he slipped inside and let the door close behind him. The only light came from the dim screen of her terminal which had been left active, but it was enough light for him to see the lumpy shape in the bed, and a bedraggled spill of red hair across the pillow.

Was she finally sleeping?

He padded barefoot across to her bed and set the glass of water down on the bedside table, then gently pressed a hand to her forehead to gauge her temperature. Her pale skin was flushed, and her temperature still sky high. Kaidan pressed his other hand to her cheek, and wondered not for the first time why she was stubbornly staying in her room instead of going to medbay.

She groaned, burrowing her face into the cool touch of his skin, and her eyes opened a crack, enough for him to get a glimpse of green, before she closed them again.

“Hey, boy scout,” she murmured. “I thought you were sick of me and you’d gone to bed.” 

He smiled softly and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “You’ve got a fever. Of course I’m not going anywhere.” Kaidan helped her sit up, and tucked a second pillow under her. “Have some water, you need to stay hydrated.” 

“Yes, mom.” Despite her weak attempt at sarcasm, Shepard took the glass he offered her with trembling fingers and took a long sip. With a grateful sigh she pressed the cool glass against her forehead, and sank back against the pillows. “I blame you for this.” 

The rest is under a cut ^_^

“Me?” Kaidan chuckled as he took the glass and set it down, then brushed some sweaty strands of hair off her cheeks. “And how exactly am I responsible for you catching a virus?” 

She pulled the blanket up to her chin and peered at him across the top, her green eyes impish and adorable despite the fever. “I was showing off,” she admitted, her voice muffled by the blanket. “When we were in the snow on that last mission, and you told me I should keep my helmet on and stay warm? I laughed at you and said the cold didn’t bother me, but I was just showing off.” 

He saw a flush of embarrassment creep up what he could see of her face before she ducked under the blanket, hiding. 

“Ah,” Kaidan mumured as he eased himself onto the bed beside her and tugged the blanket back down. “So it’s my fault that you’re irresponsible?” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, on both cheeks, and to the tip of her nose. “I’m the bad guy, huh?”

Shepard nodded. “Yes, you’re a bad influence.” She wiggled a hand free from the blanket and touched her lips. “You forgot to kiss me here.” 

Her tone was whiny, almost petulant, and he chuckled and leaned forward, catching her lips with his in a much more intimate kiss. He teased her lips apart with his tongue, one hand cupping her face as he pressed her back into the bed and wriggled under the blanket beside her. 

If she hadn’t been so sick…

Kaidan chased the thought away. Now was definitely not the time to linger on such things, even if she looked ridiculously cute when she was cocooned in bed. He drew back from the kiss slowly and traced his thumb over her lip. “I dunno Commander, sometimes I think you’re the bad influence in this relationship.” 

She shook her head as she curled up beside him, burrowing her flushed face into the curve of his neck and pressing her lips against his skin. “No,” she mumbled argumentatively. “It's definitely you. But you can make it up to me?”

“Mmm?” He wrapped his arms around her and glanced down, she looked so adorable and small against him. Like a harmless little kitten instead of a trained N7. He hugged her closer. “I’ll give you anything you need, Shepard.”

He felt her smile against his neck, those red lips curving against him. “You can start by calling me Gina.”

[ramenthroughthe6]

Moment 3: Boardwalk (Moderate Emetophobia warning) 

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Note: Thank you all so much for being patient with me as I pop this out! It's been a wild semester in college and was downright impossible for me to get any writing done. But fortunately I was able to bounce back! After this I'll have two more chapters this summer for a total of 5, and we'll see what happens then. Enjoy!!

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You yawned loudly, stretching your arms high above your head.

You were a morning person

You weren’t a morning person

Regardless of how you felt about mornings, the rush for an early start still made you a little sleepy. Your sister Elizabeth stood beside you, impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for all the neighborhood families to finish filling their cars for a full day out.

Moms had run into the Kings earlier that week, and the four began chatting about ways they could “get the kids out and involved this summer instead of staying in”, as Mrs. King had put it. At some point Ma had brought up the board walk just past Prism Vista, and felt it would be a great opportunity to get out and enjoy some mid-summer sun. Naturally the Holden’s where invited, and Kyra’s love of seeing all things new was infectious enough to convince Mr. Holden to let Cove go too. 

The slamming of the car’s trunk snapped you out of your thoughts. 

“Sun screen, snacks…got my phone, wallet, keys…I think we’re all set!” Mr. Holden patted himself down as he listed everything we’d need for the day big day out. 

You were antsy with waiting.

You were willing to be patient.

You really wanted to stay in today. 

“Alright so we’ve got the trunk full, but do we all wanna be separate? The car’s got enough room for one more if thats better?” Your mom spoke to the group of adults but you could see her eyes shifting between you and Cove. 

“We’ll keep our kiddo if it’s not any trouble.” Mrs. King grinned at her son, only to have her smile falter to one of embarrassment as she noticed Jeremy had fallen asleep standing up. As she tried to wake him, mom turned to you. 

“Well, you two, did you wanna shift around a little bit?” Mom smiled.

“Who cares? We’re all going in the same direction.” Elizabeth added her input. Though it was true you’d all end up in the same place, your moms were okay with you making a choice in your travel plans. 

“Can Cove ride with us?”

Mom shrugged, “Sure! Did you also ask Mr. Holden?” She drew out the last syllable in a subtle attempt to get you to act. 

“It’s alright with me. Have fun, sport!” At his dad’s ‘thumbs-up’ of approval, Cove jogged his way over to you. 

You greeted him with a hug.

You greeted him with a high-five.

You waved at him. 

Once greetings were out of the way you, Cove, and Elizabeth piled into the car. 

“Um…one of you is gonna have to take the middle. I am not sitting there for an hour long car ride.” Elizabeth folded her arms, clearly demanding a window seat rather than suggesting it. With little prompting Cove swapped with her, his gangly legs almost folded into his chest since the arm rest took up so much space. Elizabeth closed the door behind herself without even thanking Cove. 

With everyone buckled in, and the engine sparking to life, the three sets of cars were off down a stretch of highway leading to the boardwalk. 

At some point Ma had turned on the radio, switching stations until she found something suitable, and turning it up just enough for everyone to hear. It was a song Cove knew by heart, and he bobbed his head along to the melody while tapping his fingers on his scrunched up knees. 

During your lengthy car trip, you and your family spotted a car that looked like a giant hotdog. 

You jokingly wondered if the inside of the car smelled like a hotdog too. 

Elizabeth joked it must be hard to find parking for that thing. 

Cove wondered if it counted as a car or a truck because it was so long. 

Ma laughed it would be hard to sell because “who would want a hot dog shaped car?”

Mom laughed about how it would be a nightmare to take to the carwash. 

“Can I be in Mr. Holden’s car?”

“If Mr. Holden’s okay with it.” 

“Absolutely! Welcome aboard Team Holden….and Kyra.” Mr. Holden joked as he popped his sunglasses on, earning a playful pat on the arm from Kyra. 

You jogged over to Cove’s family, earning a smile from him. “Hey.” 

“Hi!” You ruffled his hair.

You gave him a fist bump.

You bumped shoulders with him. 

After greetings were squared away, you climbed in the back of Mr. Holden’s older model sedan, taking a window seat. 

Most of the car's white noise was filled with music on the radio turned to a low volume, and muffled conversation between Mr. Holden and Kyra. You supposed at one point she was supposed to be giving directions, but the conversation shifted into snippets of what there was to do at the boardwalk, wishing they hadn’t put all the snacks in the trunk, and other miscellaneous topics. 

Eventually your small group hit traffic, causing Mr. Holden to groan as he trudged through the heavy sea of fellow drivers in vehicles big and small. 

You and Cove made a game of counting how many blue cars you saw. 

You used this time to take a nap.

You and Cove chatted about what you’d want to do when you got to the boardwalk. 

When you had finally looked back out the window, the car was again rolling at a rapid pace, and your group hadn’t hit anymore traffic for the remainder of the ride. 

“I’m fine where I am, thanks.” 

“Alright!” Mom shrugged in agreement as her and Ma hopped into the car. You waved goodbye to Cove before following suit. 

With the deafening, rattling cabin noise, your mom decided to shift in her seat to look back at you and your sister. 

“You two have any music requests?” At mom’s idea Elizabeth just shrugged.

“I’ll listen to whatever.” 

“Alright…what about you, honey?” Mom turned to you.

You chose a station you knew Elizabeth liked.

You chose a station you liked.

You let Mom pick

You let Ma pick. 

Mom nodded at your choice before turning back around to tune and turn up the radio. The first few songs, in your opinion, where just okay. But a song came on that you’re whole family used to love. 

Elizabeth shot up in her seat and gasped, “I haven’t heard this song in ages…”

Gradually Ma’s humming, your swaying, and Elizabeth’s head bobbing, turned into the whole car belting out into song. In unison, you all may have sounded terrible, but that was the fun of it.

After the wheels of the car came to a stop, you hopped out, followed slowly by everyone else. Mr. Holden stretched his back with an audible pop, Mom took to stretching out her arms and legs too. 

Once everyone was nice and limber, they took to unloading lunches and supplies from their trunks. Ma handed you a thermal bag full of water and juice, while tossing what you assumed to be a tote full of sandwiches and snacks over her shoulder. 

Excitedly, even with your arms full of supplies, you and Cove paddled off into the park, Elizabeth wandering nonchalantly behind the both of you. Sounds of rusting coasters and popping balloons, the beachy music playing over hidden speakers, and barking seagulls filled your senses; it was a beautiful day to be outside…

But you felt a little overwhelmed.

It made you were more excited to explore.

And you were curious about how the rest of the day would go. 

Holding on to her son’s hand, though it seemed more like dragging him, Mrs. King pointed to a table close to the iron railing of the peer. 

“Ooh! That seems like a nice spot for lunch. How’s about it, gang?” A few hums of approval and an ‘absolutely’ was all the confirmation needed for your families to set up shop at a rickety, older looking bench. The railing beside you had rusty, flaking paint that might have been dark blue once, but had since been sun bleached to near white.

Chips, fruit, sandwiches, and drinks were passed around in a flurry, and before long you were finally able to enjoy lunch. You found yourself sitting between Cove and your sister, but directly across from Jeremy. Rather than intently glaring at you in a way that would make your blood run cold, he looked down to the floor, his brows furrowed in, while slowly chewing on his sandwich. 

“You okay?” You asked the question impulsively, not intending to say it out loud. 

Your question made Jeremy’s eyes shoot to you immediately, “Why do you care?”

“I mean….you were kinda quiet this morning.” Cove added.

“So? I’m just tired.” Jeremy adjusted his round frames with his free hand while using his occupied one to take another bite of his lunch. 

“If you’re sure…Usually people are excited to be at the boardwalk…” You mumble under your breath as you go back to finishing your own meal. 

“The kid said he was tired, leave him alone.” Elizabeth butt in, head resting on her overturned hand. 

“SEE! She gets it!” Jeremy motioned to your sister, wide eyes looking equal parts excited and upset, “But I don’t need your help making that point.” His face immediately fell flat with an unimpressed scowl. 

“Pssht. Rude.” Elizabeth snorted, rolling her eyes. 

As if on cue, Mrs. King’s hand came down to pat her son’s bowl cut, which Jeremy highly disapproved of as he tried to worm away from her touch. “I hope you’re playing nice with your friends, kiddo.”

“I already told you they aren’t my friends! I don’t even know these people. Especially her!” At that last sentiment Jeremy pointed at Elizabeth, who looked around confused. 

“Well, sounds to me like a good opportunity to become friends!” Mrs. King encouraged.

“No!” At his defiance, one stern look from his mother at least got him to stop yelling. Jeremy pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and hunching over. 

“Haha.. sorry about that. You know how kids can be!” Mrs. King waved the incident away like it was nothing, continuing on her previous conversation with a smile. 

The rest of lunch was a little awkward.

You were glad Jeremy’s mom put him in his place.

You felt kind of bad for him. 

You knew his mom telling him off wasn’t going to stop him from acting out.

You felt neutral about the situation. Mrs. King was just doing what moms do best. 

Once lunch was finished, all remaining leftovers were stored away, and all trash thrown into the nearest trash can, your group took to wandering the boardwalk as their meals settled. Occasionally someone would point out an activity to do; the face painting cart or renting skates and bikes by the hour, or game booths and their giant, recognizable stuffed animals. Cove pointed out one that looked like a big goldfish with tired, droopy eyes, while you spotted another that resembled white dog with big eyebrows from a video game Lee likes to play.  

Kyra began a shift in topic, “Really, I’m dying to see what's on the other side of the pier. I heard they had this small bar right next to this knick-knack shop that does AMAZING strawberry daiquiris!” 

“That sounds so refreshing right now…” Your mom murmured just loud enough. The adults chatted about wandering the rest of the pier, before you all stopped at a familiar place: the tables you’d eaten lunch at. 

“I suppose we’ve seen all we can in this area…” Mrs. King paused in thought for a moment, “Jeremy, you and your friends wanna play a few games?” As she spoke she reached for her wallet to pull out a ten dollar bill, handing it to him folded. 

That seemed fair for games, you thought.

You’d seen Mr. Holden give Cove way more than that.

You felt guilty she was paying for all of you.

You were more than happy to take the money to play games. 

Just as Jeremy prepared to pop the cash in his pocket, Mr. Holden sprung forward, handing Cove twenty dollars. “Here, bud. Don’t wanna send you off empty handed. Maybe you can chip in for a few of the rides too?” 

Cove nodded, fiddling with the cash in his hand between his fingers. 

By that point it was decided: with Elizabeth, sarcastically, ’solemnly swearing’ to watch after you, Cove, and Jeremy while your families walked to the opposite side of the pier, your group of ten would split into four. 

“We’ll meet you kids at seven o’clock sharp by the lunch tables, alright?” That was the last thing Ma said before heading off with her group. 

Cove examined the money his dad gave him. “I wish dad carried smaller bills…I’m gonna have way too much change-“ the ruckus of heavy feet immediately took Cove out of thought, as both of you looked away from the cash. Your sister Elizabeth had already began walking in the direction of the mini-attractions. “Hey! You aren’t supposed to leave without us!” 

“Well then come on! I’m riding that roller coaster.” Elizabeth pointed to one of the few coasters on the boardwalk. It was a massive, orange looping track that rumbled the aging wood on the dock. 

It made you excited to go on it too.

It filled you with fear.

Just looking at it made your stomach do a nauseating flip

Cove looked between you and your sister indecisively. “I mean…I don’t really wanna ride a roller coaster right now,” the comment made Elizabeth roll her eyes, “but I don’t want us to get separated either. Maybe we can just buy the tickets and look around?” 

Elizabeth audibly huffed, her arms crossed over her chest, only to drop them and walk in the direction of the ticket booth, allowing the rest of you to follow suit. Jeremy stepped up first to the attendant, struggling slightly with the high window. His ten dollars was almost enough to cover everyone, so Cove had to chip in with the money Mr. Holden gave him. 

Jeremy pouted, much like your sister had moments ago, mumbling something under his breath. 

“Huh?” Cove asked, taking his change from the attendant with his gaze focused solely on Jeremy. 

“I…I said thank you. For covering the rest of the tickets…” Jeremy looked as though just saying 'thank you’ was a sickening feat. 

Cove blinked for a moment in what looked like shock. “Oh…No problem.” The air was palpable between the two for a moment, while you and Elizabeth obtained your bright green wrists bands. Your sister waited much less impatiently as the boys got theirs. As soon as everyone was marked ready to ride, Elizabeth sauntered off again, leading Cove to follow. 

You wordlessly followed them.

“Wait for me!”

You followed after your sister and Cove, as Jeremy ambled far behind you, clearly less enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. 

The wooden planks beneath you rattled every bone in your body, and the boardwalk itself shook as though each loop of the roller coaster would break it in two. The towering orange coaster Elizabeth had longed to see seemed to stretch endlessly into the cloudy, blue sky. It’s rampant twists and turns careened in a way that made it hard to follow the tracks with your eyes. 

Your eyes couldn’t even settle on her silhouette before realizing Elizabeth was already standing in line for the ride. Beside you Cove let out a low whistle,

“Sure is….a lot. Are you gonna go on?” 

”Yeah, I’ll ride with my sister.”

“Alright. Well…enjoy. Are you supposed to say “bon voyage” when someone gets on a roller coaster or is that weird?” Cove pondered out loud though maybe it was more for himself than you.

“Not sure but I’ll take it anyway!” You waved before taking a spot beside Elizabeth in line. 

”Yeah, can we ride together?”

“Alright.” Cove nodded pleased at your commitment. The two of you, nearly in tandem, queued in line with the other passengers atop a set of splintering, and warped wood stairs. It reminded you of the time Mom had to take a splinter out of your finger when you were little. 

As you leaned over the railing, following the forward movement of the line, you caught a glimpse of nearly neon green hair. 

“I almost forgot about Jeremy,” You nudged Elizabeth only whispering to her before shouting out, “Hey, Jeremy! Are you gonna get on too?!” You cupped your hand over your mouth to amplify the call.

“I can’t!” Jeremy crossed his arms tightly around himself. 

“Why not?” You called as best you could from the platformed stairs that shook with the cacophony of the coaster behind you.

“Because my parents say I’m not supposed to! Why’s it any of your business?!” You let Jeremy sulk in place, watching as he sunk himself into a wooden bench.

 Gradually, as you ascended the stairs towards the boarding platform, Jeremy was no longer in sight. You placed your bag in a cubby before being seated next to:

Elizabeth

Cove 

As you slid into your seat, lowering the overhead constraint, you attempted to turn next to you and voice your excitement, only for the track beneath your feet to begin clacking louder and faster each time. 

Without thought you were shot off into the distance, screaming with all the other passengers as adrenaline rushed through your system. A steep dip, a nearly vertical curve, and an extremely bold 10 story loop hit you with the spinning sensation of vertigo.

You were thrilled.

You were starting to feel nauseous.

You were horrified.

Another side turn whipped you to and fro in your seat, before grinding to a whiplash-inducing halt more than once. You took a deep breath, legs threatening to fail beneath you, as the ground became solid again. 

Elizabeth, after retrieving her bag from the provided cubbies, made a swift exit without bothering to wait for the rest of your party. But Cove stayed nearby to hold open the exit gate for you. 

”That was so fun!”

Cove smiled at that, clearly pleased you had yourself a good time. 

“That was terrible!”

Cove frowned at that statement. “Aww. I’m sorry you didn’t have fun.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” Cove gently smiled at the sentiment. 

“That wasn’t worth the wait.” 

“I know right. Geez, I thought it’d at least last a little longer,” Your sister complained along with you over her shoulder  before slowing down to bump you playfully with her arm, “maybe we’ll just have to find something else to ride.” 

You stayed behind. 

“Wait, I don’t wanna go!”

You stood firmly in place, watching as Cove and Elizabeth attempted to fade off into the distance. 

Cove stopped upon noticing you and Jeremy hadn’t moved anywhere. “You’re not coming?”

You shook your head, clearly expressing you’d rather not go.

“But I don’t want us to separate! What if we get lost and our parents said Elizabeth is supposed to be watching us.” Cove was becoming frustrated with the change in plans, as he rubbed at the scar on his left arm anxiously. However his annoyance was no match for the wrath of your sisters. 

“Come on, you two! It doesn’t take a week to walk in one direction!”

Cove pouted, “Well they don’t wanna go! I can’t force either of them.” Cove’s phrasing made you realize you weren’t in defiance alone, Jeremy stood beside you looking equally unmoved. 

Elizabeth could only groan as she approached your group of disgruntled barely-teenagers, arms crossed over her chest, “Look, I’m not getting on that roller coaster by myself, so you three gotta figure it out. Besides, I’m not allowed to do whatever I want because I promised moms I’d watch you.” 

There was an uneasy lull in conversation, Cove glared at you with a tenseness you’d never seen from him. Maybe routine was that important to him after all. But you would rather Cove be a little upset at you than ride that roller coaster 

You knew you’d get sick

You were terrified of heights 

It was far too overwhelming for you

You didn’t want to feel forced to do something that would make you uncomfortable. After a beat, Elizabeth rolled her eyes, “Fine. You, glasses, you’re getting on that thing with me.” 

“Why me?!” Jeremy threw his arms out angrily. 

“So I can get these two to stop fighting, now come on.” Elizabeth immediately swept off in irritation, prompting the three of you to follow her. During the walk Cove wouldn’t even look at you. 

You didn’t understand why this was such a big deal to him. 

You thought he was acting like a brat

It hurt that your friend was upset with you

It made you sad to not talk to Cove.

The looming metal monstrosity rumbled above you, its tracks squeaking to a halt as the passengers ahead of you prepared to exit. Jeremy had his arms crossed tightly over his body, and each step he took with the moving line was labored.

“I don’t wanna ride this stupid roller coaster, lady.” Jeremy mumbled under his breath.

“Better than your friends arguing right? Get over it. It’s a little two minute ride.” Elizabeth side-eyed the smaller boy, who only sunk into himself at her comment. "Unless you're chicken?"

"I'm not chicken. I'm allergic to rollercoasters." Jeremy sounded so confident, as though the statement made sense.

Elizabeth hummed thoughtfully before smirking, "Sounds like being chicken to me."

With Jeremy and your sister out of sight beneath the line’s canopy, you and Cove took to sitting on a weathered wood bench. Neither of you spoke to one another, as you picked at the flaking and sun bleached blue paint.

It was silent for a while before anyone spoke up. 

“Why does it bother you so much if we split up?” The question fell out of your mouth unprompted. 

For a moment Cove opened his mouth, only to have no words come out. He tried again, “It…it’s because we’re not supposed to. We were supposed to stay together, and go to the same places- why would we change that all of a sudden?” Another lull in conversation, “I just don’t wanna get in trouble I guess. Or change what we’re supposed to be doing.” 

You couldn’t quite understand what he meant

It still didn’t make sense to you why splitting up was such a big deal. 

You could understand completely.

You hated when moms would change plans last minute. 

You couldn’t understand, but you were willing to accept how he felt. 

That was just Cove’s way, and there’s nothing wrong with how he feels. 

You nodded along as he spoke. Before you could say anything more, Cove interrupted, “Sorry.. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m not even mad…just frustrated, I guess. Besides, I’d rather hang out with you today anyway than split apart.” 

“Thanks Cove, I’m sorry too. I-” in a flurry of colors, Jeremy whizzed down the exit stairs to lean over the trash can beside you, belching loudly before getting sick into it. You and Cove leapt up from your seats on the bench to put distance between yourselves and Jeremy. 

You were terrified.

You started to feel sick yourself.

You felt bad for him. 

“What happened?!” Cove threw his hands out as he asked Elizabeth, though Jeremy interjected by lifting his head out of the trashcan.

“I TOLD you I’m not allowed to ride rides. I’m allergic to roller coasters!” Jeremy’s aggravated shouting only made him dry heave. 

“You aren’t ‘allergic’, you just get motion sick.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in an act of disgust as opposed to anger. There was a beat before she lowered them to her side looking apologetic, “take a seat, I’ll go get you some water…. maybe some breath mints too.” With that, Elizabeth meandered away. 

Jeremy listened, sitting down on the same splintering bench you and Cove had been on seconds before. Stained shirt, glasses lop-sided, chunks of lunch littering his mouth; he looked like a tornado had localized itself over his head. 

“Are you okay?” Cove asked hesitantly. Jeremy scowled. A deep, fiery scowl worse than you had ever seen him make, before he plunged his face into his knees. Jeremy curled himself into a ball again, like he’d done on the beach weeks before. You and Cove looked at each other with an obvious understanding that Jeremy would not want to talk to anyone for a while. 

Cove stayed standing awkwardly near Jeremy, 

You sat near him, but kept your distance.

You sat as far away as you could from him. 

You sat right next to him. 

After what felt like an eternity, Elizabeth came back with a handful of napkins and a small plastic cup full of water. 

“Here, kid,” at Jeremy’s unresponsiveness, she nudged his balled-up form with her forearm, “Here! Take it.” He looked up, eyes puffy and red before carefully taking the water and napkins from your sister. While he sipped, Elizabeth instructed him on how to use the excess water to wipe himself off, “You don’t need the napkin soaking wet, just enough to get that puke stain out…”

Jeremy was somewhat more collected, though maybe it was because was able to sit still for a while.

“Thanks…I’m sorry I almost puked on you.” Jeremy said 'sorry' so quietly, like he was uttering a forbidden word. 

“And that you had an attitude with me, and made me get you water, and scared me half to death,” Elizabeth counted off Jeremy’s minor wrong-doing on her fingers.

“Okay, okay- Sorry for those too. What took you so long?” 

Elizabeth looked shocked, “Um, ungrateful much? I was trying to find your parents to tell them their ‘baby boy’ spit up all over himself… but I couldn’t find them.” She put her hands on her hips defeated at that last statement.

Jeremy grumbled, “I’m not their baby.” 

After a while, Elizabeth sighed. “Well, what now?” 

“We could play a game or something.” Cove suggested. 

So it was agreed you all would set out to play a game. Cove picked one of the games where you toss big plastic rings on a bottle.

You cheered him on.

You silently hoped he’d win.

Cove only won a smaller prize after getting two out of four bottles. He picked a smaller version of the goldfish plushie he’d seen earlier. It looked cheaply made, but when he turned it this way and that in the light, some of the scales glittered iridescently. 

He hummed thoughtfully, “Not bad. Um….do you want it?” Cove’s face turned a little red as he avoided your gaze.

You happily took it.

You held the little tired looking stuffed animal in your hands. “Thanks, Cove! It's cute.”

He smiled nervously, “It’s no problem.” 

You didn’t want it. 

Cove nodded in acceptance, keeping the toy clutched under is arm. 

Elizabeth suggested the next game be one where Cove could win a live goldfish, but he was adamant that seemed cruel. 

“What if it gets all shaken up on the ride home and dies! I’d feel like a monster.” 

“It’d also probably get huge in your tiny little tank. Aren’t goldfish a kind of carp?” You added.

After making jokes about how Cove could own the worlds largest goldfish, Elizabeth decided to play a game, much to your surprise. 

“What? I’m here I might as well.” She shrugged. It was a game where you throw baseballs at wooden standees of clowns. Your sister got a few good throws in, but three out of five wasn’t enough to get her a prize. 

The next game you saw was something you hadn’t seen on the boardwalk before: it was a kind of archery game where you shoot an arrow with a plunger on the end into a target. Jeremy immediately stepped up to it, getting his wristband scanned. 

The woman running the booth gave Jeremy three arrows and a bow. He took them and backed up far, far away from the designated line.

“You sure you don’t need to move closer?” You asked.

“Uh-huh. And I only need one shot.” Before you could argue that Jeremy was just bluffing, he pulled the bow string and fired. It hit the bullseye immediately and a large bell rang out. 

“Oh my God! How did you do that?” Cove shared your utter amazement. 

Jeremy simply shrugged as he walked up to the booth woman, “My parents made me take an archery class for a month.” 

“Nice shot, kid. Pick your prize!” The booth woman pointed all the way at the top row where some of the bigger stuffed animals sat. He mulled over his options for a bit before pointing at a large stuffed bear. 

“That one.” At his pointing, the woman used a long hook to bring the bear down to Jeremy. It looked like your fairly normal teddy bear, besides being half Jeremy’s size, had a yellow bow tied around its neck. Jeremy looked at it for a moment before holding it out to Elizabeth. “Here.” 

She immediately looked floored, “What? Why?”

“‘Cause I don’t have any money to pay you back for the water. So just take this stupid thing instead. I don’t want it.”

“What makes you think I want it?” Elizabeth smirked.

“Just take the stupid bear!” Jeremy’s cheeks had already grown red with embarrassment. 

Your sister rolled her eyes, “Fine. I guess you owe me anyhow. What with the mistreatment and all.” 

“I already said sorry! You want my liver too?!” Much to Jeremy’s chagrin, Elizabeth was having a blast teasing him.

“Eh. I’ll forgive you one day. Now let’s focus on getting everyone back to the tables.” Elizabeth’s playful teasing left Jeremy slack-jawed and pouty, but he followed her in the direction of the picnic tables regardless. 

Cove held out his hand so you could follow suit. “Come on.”

You took his hand.

You shook your head and walked along-side him.

You linked arms with him.

Your group took their time getting where they needed to be. You all stopped for another cup of water, which Jeremy was shocked to learn was free this whole time, and even popped into a gift shop. 

Elizabeth crossed her arms, “How are they gonna have ‘Eliza’ and ‘Lizbeth’ but not ‘Elizabeth’ on a stupid keychain?” 

“At least your name’s not ‘Cove’ then you’ll never find one.” Jeremy snarked. Elizabeth nearly keeled over with laughter. 

“Hey!” Cove did not take lightly to that joke, but the moment passed with a playful air. 

“So Jeremy,” You started, 

“How long have you been doing archery?”

“Only a few months.” 

“Do you like it?” 

He gave you a flat unimpressed look, “No, I just do it because I like wasting my own time…yeah, it gives me something to do. So what?” Despite his sarcasm, it was nice he opened up to you a little.

“Are you feeling better?” 

“About what?”

“I mean, you got sick earlier.” 

“Oh, right. Yeah I’m fine. That just happens sometimes.” Jeremy seemed genuinely unbothered by this fact. But at least he felt alright. 

Your families were already by the tables when you got there, and had a very evident reaction to seeing Jeremy a total wreck. Mr and Mrs King immediately ran to their child.

“Oh, honey! you look like you’ve been raked through the mud! What happened?! What’s on your shirt?!” For once, at his mother’s doting, he didn’t pull away. Jeremy probably needed the comfort of being held by his parents. 

Elizabeth answered for him, “Sorry…We went on a roller coaster. I had no idea he’d get motion sick. I tried to find you guys-.” Your sister raised her arms to cross them, only to lower them to her sides nervously, not knowing what to do with her hands.

“Elizabeth!” Mom’s jaw immediately fell open. 

The King’s eyes widened in unison, though not with anger, “You did what?! Look at you getting big and bold, prince! Did’ya have fun?”

“No! I threw up all over myself!” Jeremy crossed his arms furiously.

“B-but you tried something new. Where you s-s-scared?” Mr. King tried to smooth out his son’s messy bowl cut. 

“No. Why would that scare me?” Jeremy’s parents ‘oohed’ in tandem. 

“Well look at you, big man! Did you have a good day?” Mrs. King tried to fix her son’s messy collar

Jeremy hunched in on his already closed off form, puffing out his cheeks, “Don’t treat me like a baby… but it was okay.” Despite his tantrum, you could tell he beamed a little with pride; he had fun today. 

With Jeremy sufficiently fussed over, your families felt it was high-time to leave the boardwalk. 

While walking behind your parents, Elizabeth turned to Jeremy, “Thanks again for the bear. I’ll probably nap on it.”

“Whatever. You seem kind of spoiled so I figured you would.” Jeremy said very matter-of-fact.

“Okay. I’m not about to argue with someone wearing coke-bottle glasses.” 

Jeremy’s jaw dropped. He had no rebuttal to that so he just flipped her off. 

Elizabeth looked equally shocked, “Tsk, tsk. After everything I did for you. I may be spoiled, but you’re a brat.” You could tell in that moment Jeremy wanted to laugh. 

The parking lot was much more empty than it had been when you arrived. Every other spot illuminated by a florescent yellow lamp post as the remaining ombre of sunset sunk into nightfall. Jeremy climbed into the back seat of his parents sedan, and seemed to almost immediately fall asleep against the window. 

“Elizabeth, do you have anything you want to say to Mr And Mrs King?” Ma nudged Elizabeth lightly on the shoulder to get her to speak. 

“I’m… I am so sorry I made Jeremy get on that roller coaster with me. I didn’t wanna ride alone, he didn’t tell me he got motion sick I just-“ Elizabeth seemingly cut herself off. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” Mrs. King interjected, “you were just trying to make sure he had a good time! If anything we should be thanking you! You got our kiddo out of his shell.”

“…Sorry about the, y’know, puke on his shirt.” You hadn’t seen your sister this apologetic

Since that fight playing pretend with Cove.

Ever! 

“It’s like you said, you had no clue that was gonna happen,” Mrs. King leaned in to your sister, “And between you and me, he does that a lot anyways.” 

Elizabeth smiled a bit at that but you could tell she still felt terrible. 

“To show you there’s no hard feelings, we’ll pack up the van for you!” 

Mom’s eyes flew open. “What?! Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely! Trust me, when you’re in the hobby business lifting heavy things is your forte! C’mon, honey.” And with a show of her somewhat muscular arms, Mr and Mrs King made light work of putting the thermal bags and totes into everyone's car. 

With many ‘good-byes’ and ‘we-have-to-do-this-agains’, you and your family hopped into the car. For a while it was completely silent. Elizabeth rested her chin against the large stuffed bear, and you figured she’d be moody again all night. 

Then she burst out laughing. 

You laughed along with her. Today had been wild.

“What’s so funny?”

You just looked at her. You were so confused.

“I can’t believe its normal for that kid to just puke all over himself!” 

“Maybe he has stomach troubles, Elizabeth.” Ma glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. 

“Either way, he’s a pretty tough cookie. If he can just bounce back after all that, he’ll do alright in the world.” Elizabeth chuckled approvingly. It was nice to know she was warming up to Jeremy.

You still hadn’t.

You still hated him.

You thought he was alright. 

You thought he was great!

At some point you must have fallen asleep on the way home and ended up in bed. A long day at the boardwalk could do that to anyone. Cozily, you snuggled back in bed and dreamt about:

Your next adventure.

Jeremy.

Cove. 

[anangelswar]

Another sneak peek to misfits of our own🤪

I looked at him with shock, disgust, and something that I didn't want to recognize. "WHAT!?" I screeched, my face bright red. "Shit, no, that came out wrong. I have a hard time sleeping alone and I wanted to sleep in the bed with you!" He corrected quickly, his face also slightly pink as he sat up. "So...?" He was twiddling his thumbs, looking up at me for only a few seconds at a time while he waited for my answer. "Fine." I grumbled, climbing back into my bed, getting closer to the wall this time and holding the blanket up. "Come on Neito." He smiled and took his shirt off, likely just for comfort but I still looked away, my face getting hot again. "Yes ma'am Hummingbird." He chirped, getting under the blanket with me and hugging my back to his chest, I wanted to say something but fought against it as I felt his grasp tighten on my hip bones, his body mostly relaxed.

I could feel each muscle lose tension the longer we lay the way we were positioned, his breathing evening out the longer the time drew out. He was asleep. He was asleep and holding me. The feeling of his breath on my neck and the way his arms held me made me feel safe in a way, like nothing could hurt me as long as I was in his arms. It was confusing me, I had never felt like this with him before today, I had never felt anything but fear he would pick me apart from the inside out. I hated the fact that he could probably do that and I'd let him, I'd let him tear me limb from limb and even in my pain I would let him do it over and over again.

I shook the thoughts from my mind and stared at his hands, his fingers squeezing my hips tightly, I thought about how he's acted in the past, being a complete dick and not caring if he hurt someone else's feelings or even doing so on purpose. But he had this carefulness when he talked to me, he minded his words, I knew because I had seen and heard first hand how bad the insults could be. He acted like he hated me in front of others yet here he was, asking to hold me so he could sleep, in turn for saving my life. I wasn't complaining, the warmth I felt at that moment was something I didn't think was going to feel from any man, his hands were firm but they weren't tight and my claustrophobia wasn't being a bitch for once in my life. I could feel the coolness of the wall radiating towards me, it was nice to know I wasn't going to overheat but it made me think, what's gonna happen tomorrow? I almost never wake up on time and Tsu always comes to my room in the morning when she knows I'll be awake to help me with the tie she swears she'll never do again, and then leave me to be late on my own.

She was an amazing friend despite what people would think of her for leaving me to be late on my own. I knew she valued her attendance and clean record, so it didn't bother me when she left, it was fine because I never really paid attention in class and sometimes didn't even attend. She was my saving grace on those days, making sure I'm not left high and dry by bringing me her notes to study so I don't fail. It makes me debate whether this was a good idea or not but at the same time I always repay those who help me and just switching up my morals is hard. I slowly reach over the sleeping boy, turning over just enough to see my phone, and clasp my fingers around the case,  pulling the device over to myself quickly and laying back down with my back against his chest once more.

I turn it on, the bright screen scarring my eyes before I hurriedly turned down the brightness so I could see. I watched as my fingers flew across the screen, finding Tsu's contact and typing out a message. 

Besties<3 >_<

1tru<3: Guys I swear we need to stop pulling shit that pisses off principal Nezu.                                      February 17th

I don't know, it's kinda fun to piss him off sometimes ;>:Me

February 17th

March 2nd

Hey Tsu, I'm getting up on my own tomorrow so don't come and get me, I can manage BP:Me

sent 11:36 PM

I turned off my phone and threw it to the end of my bed, my arm cramping in my bicep as I rotate it as best I can with my limited access to room in my own bed. texting while laying down had always fucked my arm up but it was worse than normal because I couldn't shake it off. I tightened and relaxed my muscles over again, making sure that I hadn't cramped my arm too bad, and laid down again, the feeling of his chest rising and falling against my back. I stared at the bland and blank wall, the cold radiating towards me sending a chill down my spine. I huffed and my lips buzzed as I stared at my blue-purple wall. "Stupid boy...why do you feel so familiar?"

This is farther back than the last one.

[carsonian]

ignore that silly anon omg! ur rec posts were sooo refreshing, especially bc u weren't necessarily rec'ing obvious authors. i love the way you talk <3 everything u write is so funny, your fic notes are their own delight to read & so many of your fics are lowkey underrated. luv the crack fics and how they still have serious elements. "here i am & here you are" is in my all-time favs and i'm so happy ur on tumblr and in this fandom <3333

Thank you so much ❤️ You're the absolute sweetest and I have no words because you've used all the lovely, heartwrenching ones. BUT! Since you mentioned that "Here I Am & Here You Are" is your favourite, I thought I'd share a coda for the fic that never made it into the fic mostly because I only wrote it two hours back. Also, this one goes out to all the SamBucky fans who were sad that the two didn't get much screen time in the fic!

"We Just Keep Going" on AO3 | 1,829 words | Rated M

"Well, well, well," Bucky propped a hand up against the door. "If it isn't my favourite person with my second least favourite person. A pair, when put together, forming a union so utterly average in my favourites list that it doesn't even warrant the work of accurate ranking."

"Did you run lines for that?" Steve asked.

"You're not very good at math." Tony tilted his head.

"Agh." Bucky wrinkled his nose, "I already hate this sequel. Come on in."

"Sequel?" Steve added as he pushed their suitcases through. Tony trailed behind them, running a hand over the flat tile on the door, a colourful piece that bore the words, "BEARS AHEAD! GRR!" 

"You two. Back together." Bucky shook his head, "can I have it on the record that I don't endorse this?"

"What record?" Tony asked. "What're you even on about? I thought you lost an arm, not your head."

"Wow." Bucky pointed a finger at Tony. "You know, this is why people call you "difficult"."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony said, "how's the new one handling you?"

"I would say like a dream but I don't want to feed your ego, so I'll say like a," Bucky steepled his fingers, metal and human hand making a compelling image when intertwined. Like some harmonic fusion of AI and humanity. Real cyberpunk shit. Bucky exhaled, deciding on, "like a well-constructed reality."

"Okay." Tony drew out the word, "is Chip here?"

"Who?"

"Sam." Steve clarified.

"Oh, haha, Chip 'n Dale, I get it. You think you're funny. Shut the fuck up." Bucky said, no bite to the words. "Yeah, he's around here."

"What a welcome." Tony crossed his arms. "Okay. I'm gonna change, then lay on the couch, drape an arm over my eyes and nap off the jet lag."

"Sure." Bucky shrugged. "Sam's gone to get burgers. Should I wake you then?"

"Steve can wake me then." Tony shot a glare at Bucky. "Since he knows how to do it without totally violating someone."

"It was one time, we were twenty-two, and the ice had all but melted." Bucky protested, quips easy from an argument too often regurgitated, so well-worked that they slipped out easy even after a decade.

Demonstrating that the passage of time didn't necessarily reflect emotional growth, Tony shot Bucky a middle finger. Then, after pointedly waiting for Bucky to point out the bathroom, he took his clothes from the carrier bag and went over to the bathroom. The snick of the lock rang in a final pointed gesture and in the pointed silence afterward, Steve and Bucky met each other's gaze.

"You gonna give your old man a hug or are you too grown up for that kind of thing?" Steve asked.

"What the fuck are you saying?" Bucky made a disgusted sound, "you ever say that to me again, I'm kicking you out, brother or not."

"Alright, tough guy. Come here." Steve urged, bringing Bucky forward and hugging him, taking care to pat him on the back of the flesh shoulder. 

"Y'okay? You all mushy?" Bucky asked into his shoulder, "Tony treating you well?"

"Shuddup." Steve replied good-naturedly, "You run Sam into an early grave yet?"

"He's a slow runner." Bucky seesawed, pulling back to make the gesture.

"Don't I know it." Steve said, "seriously, though. How've you been?"

". . . Better." Bucky admitted, "Not everyday, but, you know. . . a lotta days. It's good. I'm good." 

"That's a solid deal." Steve praised, raising his eyebrows to punctuate the point.

"Ain't it?" Bucky gave a flash of a grin, all young fire and old contentment. 

"I'm glad to hear it, Buck." Steve said, gripping the man's shoulder for a moment, just a brief press, "I really, really am."

"I know, ya big sap." Bucky shrugged the moment off. "How's Tony been? You fucking each other's brains out?"

"Reckon it would take a while to fuck Tony's brains out." Steve pondered, "since he's a genius and all. Lots of brain. . . cells." 

"Okay." Bucky raised his eyes heavenward. "He ain't even that smart. Remember when he thought a carton of milk cost eight bucks?" 

"He's a futurist." Steve said in his defense. "Give it a few years, it probably will."

"Christ alive." Bucky shook his head. "Good thing Sam's only drinking soy and whatnot." 

"Agh, he's converted you?" Steve wrinkled his nose.

"Ye-up." Bucky turned his thumbs inwards, pointing at himself. "Total believer in the soy cream, right here."

"If your mother could see you now, she wouldn't even recognise you." Steve shook his head faux-solemnly.

"Uh, duh. Why'd you think I grew my hair out?" Bucky scritched a finger against his chin. 

"I dunno, to hide your ugly mug?" Steve volleyed. 

"Is that what the scruff on your face is for?" Bucky poked him. "'Cause what's that about?"

"I didn't have time to shave while travelling." Steve said, "I'll shave it off when I shower later. Tony likes me clean-shaven, anyway." 

"Tony likes me clean-shaven, anyway." Bucky mocked in a jeering tone. "Jeez, the two a you are awful."

Steve paused, set his lips in a straight line and said, "'Cause the stubble can be scratchy when I'm rimming him." 

"Eugh. Yuck." Bucky shook his shoulders out. "What the fuck, eugh. Oh god, I'm gonna gag."

"Okay, drama queen." Steve rolled his eyes. He took the pause to push their suitcases up against the wall. Upon turning back, he found Bucky raising an eyebrow at him. 

"That's a homophobic remark." Bucky said.

"You're." Steve ran a hand over his face, "I'm too jet-lagged to listen to you right now."

"Good way to say you can't think of a comeback."

"Don't say comeback, it reminds me of—"

"Blah, blah, blah." Bucky stuck his fingers in his ears, "can't hear you, can't be traumatised by you and Tony." His voice rose higher with the second sentence, and it proved the "losing one sense amplifies the other senses" thing wrong because limiting his hearing was obviously causing an amp up in Bucky's lack of common sense and also, his (already debilitated and clearly debilitating further) sense of humour. 

Thankfully though, it seemed that the universe was immune from the senses thing because it was with an apt sense for timing that the doorbell chose that moment to ring out.

Steve let Bucky continue his immature performance, going up to open the door in the charmless host's stead. 

"Hey!" Sam greeted, takeout bags in both hands, "you're here!"

"Hey Sam," Steve returned, taking the takeout bags from him and moving them to the dining table, "good to see you, man. How've you been?" 

"Great, great." Sam said, "How're you? Travel safe?"

"Yeah, perfectly." Steve said, "Tony's just getting changed. You came back quick, eh?"

"Got lucky with the line." Sam said, "how's—man. What are you doing?"

Bucky took his fingers out of his ears and gave Sam a sheepish smile, "well, well, well." He said faux-menacingly, "if it isn't my least favourite person."

"Don't say that about Steve." Sam sidestepped, "and why're you acting like a child?" Without waiting for an answer, Sam entered the kitchen and the sound of running water followed. 

"FYI, this is why you're Dale in Tony's "Chip 'n Dale" analogy." Steve said. 

"Look at you, bein' such a supportive boyfriend." Bucky said. "Boy oh boy, I best be careful or I'll be out of the running for boyfriend of the year."

The lock of the bathroom door clicked and Tony came out in a grey sweatshirt and trousers. Steve decided to save the fact that they were both Steve's clothing items for later, when Tony was sleepy enough to only notice the reprimand and not how hot Steve got at the sight of it. Tony ran a hand through his hair as he asked, "I heard the door. Sam's here?"

"Kitchen." Steve jutted a thumb out, and Tony headed over to say hi. 

As the two began what sounded like an incredibly mature exchange of greetings, Steve and Bucky shared a short look. 

"We are not the immature ones in our relationship." Bucky insisted, "we are not the "Dale" of the relationship."

"I think they're brothers, anyway." Steve gave an involuntary rictus, "Tony's always multi-tasking when we watch films. It's a problem. I'm working on it."

"Yeah, okay." Bucky sighed. "Hey, Stevie, off the record?"

"The record that doesn't exist?" Steve asked, "that record?"

"The very same." Bucky cleared his throat. "I'm happy you're back together, you know? Real happy. You average each other out."

"In your favourites ranking or in general?" Steve asked. 

"Both, genius." Bucky said. "That's why you two work so well together." 

"Thanks, Bucky." Steve said. "You too, you know?"

"I know." Bucky said, giving him a genuine smile. That, more than anything, made Steve feel properly settled. He was out of business in taking other people's opinions on him and Tony getting back together, but Bucky was definitely the closest to being a person he could trust to know enough to be accurate and honest enough to be truthful. So—the fact that he approved, well. It just mattered.

Sam and Tony walked out of the kitchen, still chatting, with table mats in Sam's hands for the food.

"Hey, Tones." Bucky walked forward, "hey, buddy, come here." 

Tony made an "oof" sort of sound as Bucky came up and hugged him, matter-of-fact about it. The look Tony sent over to Steve over the shoulder was bamboozled. Befuddled. Somewhat begrudged. A tad bemused.

"Hey." Tony said, "you okay?"

"Yeah." Bucky patted him twice on the back and then stepped back. He pointed at Tony with the metal hand and at Steve with the other, "you two break up again, I'm suing you for psychiatric damage."

Tony's finger met Bucky's in a perversion of the E.T. greeting, pushing him back as he said, "Buckaroo, you couldn't afford me."

"Can we continue this over food?" Sam called out, "'cause I didn't wait twenty minutes for cold fast food."

"Sure thing, babe." Bucky grabbed Sam by the scruff of his neck and pulled him in for a tight hug and a peck on the cheek, "there, there. Didn't mean to make you feel left out." 

"I wasn't even—" Sam tried to shrug out the hug for a futile moment before quickly conceding to it, "whatever, okay."

"I don't want to break up," Tony sidled over to Steve, "but I do want to keep up with the psychiatric damage."

"Agree." Steve wrapped an arm around Tony's waist. 

"Should we fuck on his bed?" Tony suggested.

"Sam would suffer too, then, and he doesn't deserve it." Steve said, adding with a thoughtful tone, "let's do it on his old bike."

"We do average out." Tony said, and then, at Steve's startled surprise, "see, I can multi-task."

[toji-bunny-girl]

𝙎𝙖-𝙏𝙤-𝙍𝙪

CHARACTER— yandere!gojo x fem!reader CONTENTS— yandere themes, stalking, hidden camera bear thingy, slight angst? IDKK gojo is just gross asf, noncon, intoxicated!reader, worshipping kink, DELUSIONALL‼️‼️‼️, slight fingering idk, sex yuh A/N— someone requested 4 sum more yandere jjk so here’s him 😇😇 might do the others when I feel liek it (ok I’m sorry this kinda gross, it’s literally 3 am rn)

The lustre of his eyes glimmered against the reflection of the screen, his face turning rubicund was evidence of the blood rushing underneath his cheeks. Sweat flecked across his palms, marginally soiling his pants when he rubbed his hands on them.

Your eyes stared straight into his, and he thought your orbs must be of millions of blended colours for them to glint in iridescent. The sliver of rays from the screen pierced his irises, and he swore the sight of you must be cleansing his soul.

He sucked his lips as you played with the toy bunny’s hands, and a smile reached your face before you pressed the soft toy into your chest, clutching it in your arms as you sighed something. Something that started with Sa and ended with Ru. His mind must be playing tricks on him, right? It couldn’t be that—

Then there it comes again, the cadence of your voice, the shape of your lips, and his name that you whispered. Sa-To-Ru.

The Sa whose eyes would only trail behind your wake, the To that breathed just for the air that you exhaled, and the Ru that didn’t believe God lives in heaven, because there was you, his Goddess that walked the Earth amongst the sinful humanity.

Satoru. He thought he had never loved his name even more than that moment.

But he found himself wrong—oh so wrong.

You sounded even more euphonious sprawled out before him, intoxicated with alcohol on your tongue and in your veins—not a clue about where you are and what’s going on. All you could gather was the familiar mop of silver in your foggy sight, and how the world seemed to be on vertigo.

The bits and pieces of recollections you could grasp onto in your besotted state were the hours spent drinking bottles of liquor, giggling at the charming jokes and teases from Gojo. Then the clashes of teeth and his hands on your chest, the long ride up an elevator, and stumbling onto a bed that smelled like him.

“My name…” he panted when his head rose from your jugular—marked and claimed through teeth and tongue. “Say my name,” he repeated, pressing his lips against your jaw as he took in a drag of your ambrosial scent, long fingers pumping in and out of your squeezing cunt.

You frowned, moaning into the torrid air that bubbled around the two of you and arching your back when an orgasm tumbled through, warmth pervading through your core when pleasure glitched over your body like static.

His name doesn’t read past your lips, but your groan of pleasure was enough for him to render him halcyon. Lining his painfully pulsing head to your slick entrance, the dilatory push of his fat tip into your folds made a cry ripple through both of your throats. In you he found warmth that tasted like divinity; the forbidden fruit between the thighs of his Goddess.

He didn’t dare move, afraid that your grip would tempt an orgasm in him to soil your quim with his load. His thumb drew circles upon your clit, trying to mitigate the tight clench of your cunt in the wake of your previous orgasm.

Your muscles finally relaxed in a few rubs, and he let his length ease into you, your hole still pulsing and spasming as his cock filled your insides. Gojo’s chest fluttered with rapture as he groaned for your name, almost as if he was trying to have you look at him, fully sober instead of laying crumpled on his bed.

But you don’t, your eyes remained still shut, and only the little whimpers and cries that fell off the edges of your lips denoted your senses still awake yet torpor from the inebriation.

“Please, look at me?”

You groaned when he benignly lifted your jaw, his sense of deify for you felt through his cold fingertips before his lips meld into yours. Your mouth lax open, letting his tongue taste the heaven off of yours and swallow your saliva of ambrosia down his throat.

When he withdrew from your face with a dense cloud over your heads, he found the hues of your orbs peering into his summer’s blue sky, your eyelashes fanning the heat over his cheeks. His heart jumped and paced, and he was sure you could hear his heartbeat. Could you?

“Satoru…?” you whispered. The tang of liquor blazing strongly in your system, but you still managed to recognise him. “Wha–Where are we? And wha—”

You were cut off from your words when his lips crashed into yours, and his hips began pistoning in and out of you, your moans jumbled between your dancing mouths before sizzling in the hot air. Your walls tightened around his girth as he pumped deep into you, his cock throbbing and threatening ejaculation, but he would rather abnegate himself from pleasure if you hadn’t succumbed to it.

Every stroke of his swollen head against the bump of your g-spot made you gasp and cry with the stimulation, palms desperately attempting to push the weight of the male off, but it simply came to piteous futility.

At his last stroke, your squirting cunt squeezed his cock tight and wet his pelvis, and his load began filling your inside to the brim, thick spurts of cum shooting at your cervix as you screamed his name.

The Sa who you could taste on your tongue, the To who swore you’re the lone fire to his loins, and the Ru who promised to never let your divinity step a single foot out of his door—your temple, to walk the earth soiled by sinning humans.

Satoru—the priest to your Holiness.

© toji-bunny-girl― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

Together as One

[All Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer Masterlists] [Red Carpet Diaries]

Pairing: Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer (F!OC) Book: Red Carpet Diaries (Post-Book 3) Word Count: ~500 Rating: General: no warnings, all the fluffy fluff Prompts: @choiceschallenge-may2023 - love

Synopsis: Thomas and Alex enjoy a quiet movie night in.

This absolutely adorable and gorgeous art is by the one and only ArtbyAinna. 🤍

The glow of the TV cast a cool light over the room. The familiar sounds of one of their favorite films playing on the screen drowned out the faint snores of their faithful black lab, Bogart, sleeping on the floor beside them.

Alex nestled her head in the crook of Thomas’s neck, taking in his scent and the feel of his soft skin against hers. A blissful smile spread across her face as his arms urged her closer.

His fingers drew mindless paths along her arm, lulling her in the safety of his embrace. The warmth of her breaths tickled his neck. He gazed down at his beautiful wife. Her brown hair fanned out beneath her head on his chest. A contented sigh slipped through his lips at the sight. 

There was a time when he enjoyed films in solitude. It was only without the distraction of others that he could fully appreciate the art of the film. He spent countless hours absorbed in the media, learning and studying from those he considered masters. He took pleasure in the critique of what he watched, and rarely did he stop to just sit and let the story draw him in without any assessment of it. But, with her, everything was different. 

He traced the outline of her jaw with his fingertips, lifting her chin slightly. Her soulful brown eyes met his, warming his chest. He brushed a kiss on her forehead, marveling at how much his life had changed. Now, he had come to enjoy a balance. He still immersed himself when a film warranted it, but he also took the time to enjoy these quiet moments, where the film took a secondary role and became a backdrop to his own Hollywood love story. 

The once overflowing bowl of jalapeño popcorn began to dip as the movie played on. Alex’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing scene. The comfort of the familiar story lulled her further toward sleep.

Thomas held her in his arms, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing as it gradually slowed. The blue light of the screen cast a dreamlike glow on her features as she slept, making her even more beautiful. His fingers glided gingerly through her hair, savoring her soft, silky strands.

Taking care not to wake her, he pulled the blanket further over her. He couldn't have imagined a more perfect night than this. It didn't matter that the movie was her choice and she had fallen asleep. What mattered was this—the time spent together, with her in his arms where no words needed to be spoken to know the depths of the love they shared.

The best love stories weren't the loudest or the ones with the most memorable dialogue. The best stories were the ones that were told in the quiet whispers between two lovers' hearts, dancing in tune until they began to beat together as one—a love that could only be felt deep in one's soul.

If you made it this far, thank you for giving this drabble a chance. I only had a few minutes to write today, so I apologize if there are any errors. I am trying to spend less time analyzing my writing because that's where my self-doubt kicks in and then I edit it until there is nothing left or I don't share it because of my anxiety. So I hope that you enjoyed this quiet look into their lives. If you did, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. It means the world to me to hear what you think.

Thank you again for reading this! You are appreciated!!!

[den-shosha]

Nightly worries

Izana x M!reader

Izana worries you plan on leaving or cheating after hearing you talk about someone else. In the middle of the night, you reassure him.

Tw. None, just pure comfort and cuddles.

I needed some cute fluff. It's the only excuse I have.

Izana couldn't sleep. It didn't matter if he could feel your warm skin against his back or hear your soft snoring. What used to be a comfort was now making him anxious.

You talked about someone else to your business partner. Izana heard how excited you were to meet them soon. And it wasn't for business.

Izana didn't need more to feel left out, threatened. Were you planning on cheating? Leaving? Wasn't he enough for you? Those questions felt like knives in his mind and heart. You've been together for almost eight years now. Was it how it would end?

Turning slowly, so as to not wake you up, Izana traced your sleeping face with a finger. It was enough to wake you up.

- "Babe... What y'ding?" You asked with a sleepy voice, unable to articulate properly. "Hmm... Can't sleep?"

- "Are you planning to cheat on me?" He asked, not giving you a chance to wake up.

- "Where are you getting that, m'King? No, I am not planning such a thing." You sighed as you sat, passing a hand on your sleeping face. "Damn, it 3 in the morning? Babe, did you at least sleep?" You asked as you looked at the alarm clock.

- "Then, who's Mike, and why are you so excited to see them? Why didn't you say anything?" Izana asks, sitting as well, his voice shaking a little.

- "Mike... Mike... Give me a second my sweet King." You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide a yawn. You made Izana jump when you suddenly clap your hands together. "Babe, where's my phone? Ok, I remember now. It was supposed to be a surprise for you, but I guess I'll show you now." You grab your phone once Izana found it. The light blinds you for a second and Izana admires you. "Here babe, it's the whole thing."

The blond took back the phone, staring at the screen. The name on the top is Mike, but the conversation leaves him speechless. That person isn't a lover to be but another designer. Like you.

As you lay back next to him, nuzzling your face against his hip, Izana admired the work. Those were unique pieces you had asked, for him. There were even some high heels boots, like the ones he uses to have when he was younger. There were so many! Even jewels. Even one gorgeous ring.

A wedding ring.

A shiver ran down his spine as you kissed his hip.

- "Do you like it? Sorry, I know you don't like secrets. I should have told you."

- "It's perfect. Please, don't be sorry. I am the one who overreacted." He can feel a tear roll on his cheek and your arms gently circling his waist. "I should know by now that you won't betray or leave me."

- "Babe, you got abandonment issues. And you got backstabbed a lot." Again, your lips found his skin, leaving a trail of kisses. Izana's hand naturally found your head and played with your hair. "I am not mad or vexed, I understand. It takes time to heal babe and we're in it together. I'm the one in the wrong here. I knew and still did it, causing you to worry and hurt for nothing. It won't happen again, I promise." You kiss him one more time before gently grabbing him by the arm. "C'mere, I'll cuddle you until you fall asleep."

- "You're the one who'll sleep first!" He smiles before laying down on your chest, your arms quickly closing around him.

- "Eh! I can at least try." You kissed his forehead while one of your hands drew soft circles on his back. "I'm happy you love it. Hmm... If my memories are good, do I have to meet Mike in three days? We could go together. You'll see him and if you don't like Mike, you'll do whatever you want to him. Let's him just finish what I asked for 'k?"

- "Ok." Izana closed his eyes, listening to your heart. "So, are we talking about that special ring I saw?"

- "No. You'll have it in time. Soon, but not now." You hug him closer. "There is a special date coming, you'll get it then." You sigh, falling asleep already.

In a few weeks, you'll celebrate your 8 years together. Smiling, Izana fell asleep too, no more worries on his heart.