#I SWEAR FIT PLEASE GIVE US A HAPPY / HOPEFUL ENDING

[royalarchivist]

Fit will be streaming his QSMP finale on Thursday, May 23 at 2pm EDT / 11am PST!

[f1fantasys]

No, because I absolutely love your writing. You write smut so good. So I was think could you write something with Lando where he's reader's sugar daddy and they fuck alot but Lando is down bad for her. (No lando with toher girls, though) With a happy ending, my queen. 🧎‍♀️

Thank you anon, I'm so glad you like my writing! And i hope you enjoy this. Remember, requests are always open.

Whats yours is mine, whats mine is yours

Warnings: heavy smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, oral f receiving, fingering, anal.

Lando Norris.

The hot fuckboy you met last year at the Monaco race where you were one of the grid girls. The minute your eyes met before the race started, you knew how the night would end.

It was sweeter because Lando had won the race. He quickly found you as his media duties ended, pulling you into his drivers' room. No words were spoken at first, just intense gazes, both knowing what the other wanted.

What was supposed to be just a one time fuck had turned into 3, 7 and now 12 months of fucking.

You both weren't in the right space for a relationship, so never even mentioned such. You were just finishing uni, starting an internship in Monaco, still trying to make grounds meet, while Lando was in a different city every week, so it made no sense.

You were fine with what you thought was just a one night stand, but you couldn't see yourself fitting into Lando's lavish lifestyle. He tried many times to assure you that he would take care of all your needs, even help you while setting your life up in Monaco. It wasn't until the third time you saw each other that Lando and you made a pact - friends with benefits, though he would continue to help you.

To be honest, you weren't expecting much from him. The sex was incredible, and you'd take it anytime. But he often showered you with lush gifts and expensive items, dropping money into your account without thinking. Normally you'd be opposed to accepting such from people, but the man was an f1 driver, and you were having fun, so you allowed yourself to indulge in everything he had to offer.

You'd text or call here and there whenever he was away, and he'd invited you to a few races as well, so you could use each other as you pleased.

One thing you wouldn't admit to anyone, was how you were falling more and more for Lando each time you saw him recently. You didn't allow your thought or feelings to consume you because you knew he was probably fucking every other girl everywhere he traveled, not so much as even thinking of you.

What you didn't know though was how deep in Lando himself was. The minute he layed eyes on you, he knew he was done for. You were beautiful, had long, lush hair, skin so smooth he always kissed every corner of it, and curves so sexy he'd get hard just thinking of you. He wasn't generous to you because he pity-ed you - no. You deserved everything single beautiful thing on this planet, and he made it his mission to give it all to you. He'd give you the moon if he could. You also didn't know that he hasn't slept with anyone since your first night together. He'd tried, but no one was a good as you, and he found himself comparing them all to you - so before it would get as far as penetrative sex, he would already be walking out or pushing the girl through his door.

Lando wouldn't dare make his feeling known because it would be unfair to expect you to accept his job and his traveling. One year on and you were doing well for yourself - working a full time job, and growing with each step you take. He didn't want to take all of that away from you just for him.

Lando had texted you earlier that he was on the way home from Nice, telling you to go wait for him in his apartment.

While you were waiting for him in his room, you wondered if he'd bring other girls here on the nights you didn't spend together. Would he fuck them senseless as he did you, devour their pussy's like he was a starved man, and moan their name when he came as he did yours?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Lando suddenly walked through the bedroom door. You didn't realize how lost in thought you were that you missed hearing the front door open.

''Hey, you good?'' he asked, seeing your face contorted with confusion. ''Huh? Uh, yeah, sorry, thinking about work'' you lied.

You sat on your knees as he walked up to you and cupped your face, leaning down to lock his lips with yours in a feverish kiss.

His actions had you moaning already, which allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth as he slowly started removing your clothes.

Once you were left in just your panties he pulled back and stripped his own clothes.

You watching in anticipation as he finally took off his boxers, revealing his thick girth, swollen and standing tall.

He smirked, ''Like what you see?'' he asked. You licked your lips, ''So much'' you said, wasting no time in taking him into your hands and pumping him a few times.

It had been a while since you had seen each other so to finally feel your hands on the place he craved you the most, he was twitching uncontrollably in your hands.

''Someones' needy'' you chuckled as your thumb spread the pre-cum all over his tip, watching as his core muscles flexed with every movement.

Lando's breath increased and he couldn't take just your hands anymore. ''Fuck y/n, please'' he begged.

Normally you'd liked to have teased him a bit more, hear him beg a bit more, but honestly, you were just as desperate for him.

You finally leaned forward and took his tip into your mouth, sucking on it harshly as Lando held your head in his hands, guiding your movements.

He slid in as much as you could take, hitting the back of your throat which had you gagging around him.

''So pretty for me, taking me so well'' he whispered as he began to move, fucking himself into your pace at a raw pace.

You held onto his thighs tightly as Lando took full control, using you how he wanted because he knew how much it turned you on.

You already felt your core dripping wet, clenching achingly around nothing, so you crossed your legs and squeezed your thighs together.

The sounds you were making right now were borderline pornographic - Lando was throwing out moans and swear words like crazy, you were moaning and groaning at his relentless movements in and out of your mouth, and then there were the wet, slick and sloshy noises of his dick sliding through your spit which was now running out your mouth and messing your chin.

''Fuck baby, not gonna last long now, where do you want me?'' he asked, as always. When you didn't respond, he knew he was to finish in your mouth.

So he did - Lando's dick was throbbing uncontrollably as he came violently, shooting ropes of warm cum down your throat as his hold on your head tightened. ''Shit, how do you do that, fuck, yes'' he moaned.

''Hmm'' you hummed at the taste of him, slowly working him through his high as he slowly softened second by second.

You pulled off with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, breath heavy and lips swollen as you looked at Lando, who's eyes were still shut, his own breathing quick. ''Missed that so much'' he said, genuinely smiling down at you, releasing his tight hold of your head.

He now picked you up and off the bed, headed into the bathroom and placed you on the counter.

You hissed at the coldness as wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer, kissing him with a sense of urgency and desperation, this time sliding your own tongue into his mouth and pulling at his hair.

Lando lowered his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at your sweet spot as you bit on your lower lip, trying to keep your body from trembling since he had barely touched you yet.

''Hmmm Lando, please'' you begged, not sure what for, though quickly releasing a breath when his mouth landed on your left nipple, tugging and pulling at it, showing it no mercy.

Your nails dug deep into his biceps when he rolled your other nipple between his fingers harshly.

When he pulled back to spread your legs open, your breath hitched at seeing a string of spit still connecting his mouth to your nipple, and he smirked too when he noticed it. It might have been a small thing, but it was so hot, and you couldn't help but pull him closer and kiss him again. You fought each other, teeth clashing and biting one another until he finally pushed you back to lean against the mirror.

''Need to taste you'' he mumbled, spreading your legs open again and licking his lips when he saw your glistening core, dripping down your thighs.

You latched your hands onto Lando's hair as he leaned down and licked your juices that had leaked out of your pussy, letting his mouth travel further to place you were eager for him to devour.

As he teased you, taking his time to get there, Lando noticed how your lips were twitching, clenching around nothing, begging for attention. He smirked again, ''I'm home baby, I'm gonna take care of you''

You tried not to think too deep at his words, he probably said that just because of how turned on he was, but something was telling you he meant something deeper, more meaningful.

Though your thoughts were cut off when he finally let his tongue run through your slick folds, slurping up your sticky juices before he found your clit and sucked on it roughly.

''Fuck me Lando'' you said as your legs were starting to close around his head but he stopped your movements by placing his strong hands on them, holding them down and in place.

''Oh I'm gonna fuck you, don't worry'' he said, spit and your wetness already making a mess on his face.

Lando suddenly thrust two fingers through your entrance causing your back to arch from the mirror, gasping for hair as he was already curling them at the right spongy spots, while his tongue still slaughtered your clit.

''Hmmm fuck, not gonna last long Lan'' you managed through your fuzzy brain, pulling at Lando's hair harder than before.

He sped up his movements, edging you on and within minutes you were a shuddering mess above him, releasing your cum straight into his mouth as he moaned at the taste of you, warm and salty.

''Shit Lando'' you said through gritted teeth and he slowed his fingers, eventually pulling them out and licking them clean, eyes darker than usual staring into yours.

It was what he did next though that had you already wet for more. He leaned forward and let your cum drip from his mouth into yours, then kissing you harshly as he lifted your ass off the counter and carried you back to his bedroom.

As he placed you back on the bed, hovering above you, you gave him access to your neck so you could try and catch your breath, get ready for what was to come next.

Your hands roamed his body, memorizing every outline of his muscles, before settling on his girth and sliding it through your folds a few times, lubing it up.

''Gonna be my whore and let me fill you up?'' he whispered, the nickname nothing new for you.

''Please, i need you'' you whined, getting impatient.

''Not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, yeah?''

''Give it to me'' you said, smiling eagerly.

And he did.

Lando slammed into your pussy with a force that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He stayed still for a moment, allowing your body to accept the intrusion, until you nodded your head so he could start moving.

Lando pulled out completely before ramming into you again and again, showing you no mercy, the both of you moaning and on the edge of a high so delicious.

''So fucking tight, taking my big dick so well baby'' he murmured, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth, biting it through his teeth and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body.

''Lan, please, I'm close''

''I know angel, you can let it out'' he said, because he was trying to hard not to let himself cum before you, though he was shamelessly ready to do so the minute he started fucking you.

''Cum quickly so i can fill you up and fuck a baby into you'' he said, not thinking his words through. Both your eyes widened, but quickly got replaced when your body was suddenly shaking, your orgasm ripping through you violently.

When Lando felt your walls clench painfully around his dick, he went into overdrive, and before he could register what was happening, he was emptying his load into you, ropes of cum milking its way deep into you as it was his turn to be shaking above you.

''Fuck y/n, fuck'' he cooed, both your hearts racing, groaning at the intensity of the situation.

Lando let his weight fall on your body as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, letting him bury his head in your neck.

You shivered as you felt his hot breath fanning over your sweaty sides, the cool air of the night also causing goosebumps along the rest of yours and his body.

You stayed like that for a while, Lando softening still inside of you until he moved and pulled out, both of you hissing at the loss contact. He disappeared into the bathroom to get a towel to clean you up - he always did. Once that was done and you were dressed again you knew it was time to leave even though you didn't want to.

Lando, wearing just his boxers climbed into bed while you sat there awkwardly at the edge of his bed. You wished he'd want you to lie next to him, cuddling each other, but you quickly had to wipe that though out of your head.

''I guess..I'll see you around you said, grabbing your phone off his side table.

''Yeah, I'll call. In town for a bit'' he said, catching your hand and bringing to his lips for a quick kiss.

And with that you smiled and left.

You didn't hear from him for about a week, until the morning he was leaving for Monza.

''How quickly can you get to mine?'' was all he'd texted.

Before you could respond, he sent another one.

''Leaving for Monza in 45, come over for a quick 'un?''

''I'm on my way'' you replied.

He was standing in his foyer, waiting for you, and the minute you walked in he had you pressed against the shut door.

Lando wasted no time in bunching your work dress up and sliding your panties to the side, quickly thrusting two fingers into you as you cupped his face and kissed him roughly.

He bought your orgasm over you quickly, breath harsh on your neck as you trembled in his arms.

You both hadn't even said anything to each other, too lost in getting down to business.

Lando quickly unzipped his jeans and freed his hard cock from its constraints, pumped himself a few times before lining up at you entrance.

He held you by your hips against the door, pushing himself into you quickly, bottoming out, and this time gave you no chance to get used to him - instead he fucked into you hard and fast, the both of you moaning with each thrust as you looked at each other, lost in a wave of ecstasy.

''Lando, uh'' you moaned as you felt him deep within you, your walls clenching around him achingly.

''I know'' he said through breaths, bringing his thumb down to toy with your clit, which in turn sent you into another orgasmic bliss, your liquid gushing on to him like a tidal wave as your body was once again shaking in his arms.

''So good'' you managed to whisper as he increased his movements, chasing his high as he become clumsier and sloppier by the second.

Then he came hard and fast, filling you up with the warm sticky liquid as he chanted your name over and over, leaning down to kiss you, biting on you bottom lip as you both came down from you high.

This time there was no time to clean you up. He kissed you once more before rushing out, leaving you to clean yourself and lock up with the spare key you had, your heart clenching from wanting more.

Your phone buzzed, you saw he'd just put 3000 pounds into your account. That no more excited you though. Money and materialistic things were nothing compared to the life you wanted with all of him. But you still thanked him.

3 weeks later and you knew he was on summer break though he hasn't texted you. You convinced yourself he was probably still out of the country.

Another two weeks had passed with no contact. You missed him so much. You missed the sex, so much. Pleasuring yourself was not remotely close to how Lando made you feel.

Now a whole 5 weeks later and you were so tempted to message him, see where he was. You'd seen on social media that he had in fact been home during these weeks, but you held out because what if he didn't want to see you? What if he was done with you? You don't think you could handle the rejection if you heard the words from his mouth - so rather let it end without any words being spoken.

You'd just finished work and had stopped by a restaurant to get some takeout for dinner. While sitting and waiting for your order you heard his voice. You both looked at each other at the same time, his eyes widening when he saw you. He was with Martin Garrix, who rushed over to you and enveloped you in a big hug as Lando stood there awkwardly before he walked up to you. Martin left to go to the bathroom.

You tried to keep a neutral face, tried to keep the blush off your face. He looked so hot in his tank top and shorts, a necklace gracing his neck, and his lush curls which bounced off in different directions as he ran a hand through his hair.

''Hey'' he said, sliding a hand into his pocket.

You cleared your throat. ''Uh hey, wasn't sure you were back'' you said, pretending you hadn't known his every where-about for the summer.

''Yeah, just been busy'' he said.

It had never been this awkward before, the both of you just staring at each other, not knowing what to say, but a teasy blush on both your cheeks.

Not 10 minutes later and you were riding him in his Mclaren. If someone asked you how you ended up like this, you wouldn't know the answer. All you knew what how good it felt to finally be fucking him again. You were sat on top of him, dress bunched up to your waist, and his shorts half way down his legs as you rode him, hard and fast.

Lando's mouth were stuck on your boobs, showing your nipples no mercy, while you hands ran through his hair multiple times, pulling and tugging at it.

Luckily he was parked in a secluded area, but surely the people walking by could hear the two of you. But you didn't care. Your moans you obscene, while his just sounded sexy as hell, praising you through gritted teeth at how good you were for him, how he missed his slut.

You came at the same time, shuddering and shaking in each others arms as you rode out your highs, Lando finally cupping your face and kissing you like his life depended on it, like he was savoring the moment.

As you stopped moving, you allowed your body to slump forward onto him, trying to catch your breath as he lazily played with your hair.

''Sorry I didn't call sooner'' he said, tucking your hair behind your ears and kissing you gently.

''It's ok. Just don't wait this long. I've needed you, Lando''

''Oh, i can drop you some money now'' he said, moving to get his phone straight away.

It took you a minute to realize what was happening until your brain caught up.

''What?'- No, no, Lando that's now what i meant'' you said quickly.

''No?'' he asked.

You took a breath. ''I mean I've missed you. As in you! Physically'' you said, sending him a wink.

He couldn't keep his own smile in. ''Yeah?''

''Uh huh'' you said, kissing him again.

''Well then, I promise. I'll always tell you when I'm back in town''

''Thank you'' you said, pecking him once more before lifting yourself off him and putting your pantie right again.

Since then, Lando had actually texted you multiple times. He'd even called you. You'd had phone sex too. And as much as you were enjoying all this, you still wished for more.

The next time you saw he showed up unannounced at your house. You'd just been having a lazy Saturday night in, wearing just a robe and nothing else when your door bell rang.

You looked through the peephole and couldn't have opened the door faster. There stood a breathless Lando, eyes dark and intense.

You pulled him in. ''Hey, you okay? Why're you so out of breath? you asked, concern etched on your face.

''Because i ran here. Was forced into going on a date, was halfway through when i realized something''

Your heart clenched at hearing him say he was on a date, but you stood strong.

''What's that?'' you barely whispered.

''I want you. Only you. All of you'' he said, cupping your face, waiting for you to answer him.

''I-What?''

''Dammit it y/n. I want you, all of you. I've wanted all of you since the first day we met''

''Lando'' you said raising your hands to rest on top of his, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

''I like you, so much, and I want to do life with you'' he whispered, his breath hot on your face.

''Fuck. I like you too Lando, too much. I-I-''

But before you could finish your sentence he crashed his lips to yours. Urgent and feverish, literally taking your breath away as you pulled him closer and moaned into his mouth.

He picked you up by your ass and carried you to your room, dropping you on the bed before hovering above you.

''You're mine now y/n, for as long as you'll have me'' he said, slowly stripping your robe off, eyes darkening even more when he saw you were wearing nothing underneath.

''Fucking hell'' he mumbled, his large calloused hands squeezes your boobs as his eyes stayed glue to them.

''Lando, more'' you begged, beginning to remove his belt and strip his own clothes off.

''Relax baby, we've got all the time'' he said, smirking at you.

Once he was finally left in just his boxers, you slid your hands past them, taking his thick dick and pumping him as his lips found yours again.

''Gonna make you feel good, yeah?'' he asked.

''Fuck, please. Fuck me''

Lando's fingers slid down and rolled through your folds harshly, pinching your clit, before letting 3 fingers enter you at once.

''Getting you ready for me, open for me'' he said, voice thick with his British accent.

He roughly thrust his fingers in and out of you, while his other hand rolled your left nipple between his fingers.

When he was done with your boobs, he moved his whole body down as his fingers still fucked your cunt, and this time he added his mouth into action.

Violently lapping and sucking at your core as if he was starved, while all you could do was let out a series of filthy moans, pulling at his hair.

''That's it baby, go on'' he said, praising you for how good you were doing for him.

Within minutes you were quivering, your orgasm washing through you as you came all over his face and fingers, not slowing his movements until you eventually came a second time, all but screaming his name.

''Lan'' you said between breaths, trying your best to let your brain catch up to what was happening. ''Fuck, so good. I-I, taste you. Need to taste you'' you said, already trying to get out his grip and onto your knees, through he stopped you.

''Later, need to fuck you first'' he said, sternly.

You didn't argue because you were also desperate to feel him fill you up.

Lando shred his boxers off and ran his cock through your folds a few times.

The action had you pussy trying to clench desperately around something.

Just as he was about to push in, he stopped, looking at you with a smirk.

''Wanna try something new?'' he asked.

''Uh huh'' you were quick to reply.

He got shy for literally a second, then his eyes went dark again.

''Anal?'' he asked softly.

Your breath hitched. It had been something you'd talked about but never got round to actually doing.

When he saw you got quiet, he quickly added ''Shit, we don't have to,'' trying to resume pushing his dick into you.

''What-fuck. Yes, I want to'' you said breathlessly.

''Yeah?

''Please'' you said, already successfully shimmying out of his grasp and turning your body around, taking a hold of the headboard as you stuck your ass in the air.

Lando's hands gently ran all over your ass, squeezing your cheeks and giving you a few gentle slaps, just fun, nothing hectic.

''Gonna stretch you out a bit?''

''Ýeah. Do whatever, I'm yours'' you said, biting your lip in anticipation.

Lando leaned down and gave you a few fluttering kisses and his index finger toyed at your entrance for a bit.

He pulled away and reached it to your mouth, letting you suck it and coat it in your spit before he returned it to your hole and gently started to push in.

You held your breath, shut your eyes, not knowing what to expect.

''That's it baby, tell me if you want me to stop'' he said, pushing in some more.

''No, keep going''

Just as he was about half way in, he quickly popped his middle finger into his own mouth before letting that too slide through and into you.

Feeling both of his rough fingers had you moaning, gasping for air, as Lando started to thrust them in and out of you now.

''You're doing so good. How does it feel?''

''Weird. But so good. Fuck Lando'' you said through heavy breaths.

Not 5 minutes later and your cum was gushing out of you with no warning, your body shaking as you held on tight on to the headboard.

Lando leaned down and licked up everything he good, moaning at how good you tasted.

''Think you're ready for me?'' he asked, unable to keep a smirk off his face.

''Always'' you said, turning around for a quick kiss, also leaning down to give Lando's dick a few quick sucks, leaving as much spit as you could, before settling into position again.

Lando lined himself up, holding onto your waist with one hand as he slowly pushed in.

All air had left your lungs as you held your breath. Feeling him slide through you was unexplainable.

The stretch was sore, so bloody sore, but at the same time, just the though of it being Lando who was filling you up turned you on so much that your brain shut the pain out and replaced it with pleasure.

Once he was fully in, Lando stayed still for a couple of moments, the both of you speechless at the feeling, lost in your own dirty thoughts, until you moved forwards and backwards again.

''Fuck Lando, move, please'' you begged.

''Huh? -Fuck, sorr- sorry. Feels so fucking good i just blanked out for a moment'' he said, voice low and raspy.

He started moving, thrusting in and out of you, while you found you voice again and let out multiple lewd moans.

''Fucking hell, you're so good. So tight. I-I-I''m so lucky'' Lando mumbled.

You felt another orgasm approaching hard and fast, your movements slowing so Lando had to take full control now.

''Uh Lando, gonna cum''

''Go on, let it out, that's it baby'' he said, edging you on.

You bit you lip again as you felt your release, washing through your body which felt like jelly as Lando held you up and adored your whole being, praising you to end.

He pulled out completely and handled your body so you were now laying on your back, legs being spread and pushed up by his strong hands before he was thrusting his dick into you again, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it as your nails dug deep into his back muscles, scratching at him, probably drawing blood.

''That's it baby. I know you have more in you'' he said, movements becoming faster and erratic.

You wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could, the new angle having him hit all the right spots in you as you nibbled on his ear.

Suddenly you were having another orgasm, shaking under him as he slowed his movements for a minute, riding you through the mix of pain and pleasure, and once you'd calmed down bit, he increased his pace again, eagerly hunting his own release now.

''Fuck Lando I can't. Too much'' you said, barely able to talk and keep your eyes open.

''One more baby, one more. Together, yeah?'' he said, knowing that although you were saying that, you probably didn't want him to stop.

''Hmm'' was all you could mumble out as Lando's movements were getting sloppy, his dick twitching against your walls, sending you into another orgasmic bliss, with him following you not long after.

You felt as he shot his cum deep within you, filling you up and painting your walls white and both your bodies were shuddering and shivering, fucked out to the core.

He let his weight fall on you, as he often did after amazing sex, and cuddled you as you held him as tight as you could.

The cool air on your sweaty skin had goosebumps raise on your skin again, your body quivering in his arms as he pulled back and locked lips with yours in a tender and loving kiss. Not rough and fast like most of the time.

''You're freezing, let's get you cleaned up'' he said, making his way to pull out of you.

The loss of contact had Lando groaning, and when you looked down at where you were joined moments ago, you stopped him from walking to the bathroom.

''I-Wait!'' you squealed, pulling him back to you.

''You good?'' he asked.

You didn't answer him though. Instead you leaned down and took his mighty girth into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl all around him, swallowing al the juices that coated his dick, before letting him free again.

''Now I'm good'' you said, smirking at him.

'''Fucking dirty menace'' he said, leaning down to give you one final rough kiss before disappearing into the bathroom.

Once you were all cleaned up and wearing one of Lando's hoodies that he'd left in your house last time, you both curled into bed, your legs thrown over his as your head rested on his chest.

You were talking about everything and nothing.

At one point, Lando looked down at you, smirking.

''So does this mean I'm your boyfriend?'' he cheekily asked.

You couldn't help the blush that formed on your cheeks.

''Yes, my love. My boyfriend.''

''Well, I love you, my girlfriend''

You breath hitched. Hearing the words you've been wanting to hear the day you first met made your heart swell with butterflies.

You leaned on your elbow as you cupped his face. ''I love you too'' you said, before kissing him, pouring every bit of the love you felt for him into it.

He kissed you back with the same passion, and with that you dozed off, excited for what was to come, now that you were finally together.

[stevie-petey]

growing pains

But you’re tired of pretending. “Why am I here, Steve?”  “I thought we already established it’s because you walked in the snow.”  He’s dodging. Avoiding the question and the truths that will come with it. “Steve.” Hissing his name is familiar, it feels more natural. This is how it should be between you. Anger, disdain, raw. “And there it is,” He winces. “The fighting begins. We lasted, what? Ten minutes? Merry Christmas to us.”

Summary: steve buys you shitty coffee five years after your breakup.

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: fem! reader, use of y/n, exes!au, slight unhealthy relationship if u squint, ambiguous ending (kinda)

Words: 8k

Before you swing in: hi my dears ! heres a very sad/bittersweet coffee shop conversation with far too many flashbacks and miscommunication. yummy ! unintentionally made this a christmas fic, so the bleachers song merry christmas please dont call is very fitting lmao. enjoy !

-

A flurry of snow coats Hawkins. Christmas lights reflect off the pristine white as the quiet stills everything in the town. There are no cars that drive past you. Hardly anyone littering the sidewalk as your footsteps trace a path in the freshly fallen snow. In the small, rundown cafe there is only one other patron brave enough to face the winter cold. 

The bell above the door signals your arrival.

Steve looks up at you. 

The flush of cold air stains your cheeks a ruddy red, though his gaze tinges the hue pink. The blush gives away the fondness you hoped you had buried below your sternum; but the fondness is still there. It will always be there. 

Steve gestures silently, offering you the seat in front of him. He’s chosen a small table in the back of the room. Secluded. Private. But he doesn’t stand to greet you. 

You sit. The cold makes your body slow. Steve’s presence makes your posture stiff. Your hands remain folded in your lap. You don’t place them on the table, too reminiscent of the times he would reach across and interlace your fingers together. 

The deliberate act is small, your only defiance, but still, after all these years, Steve sees it for what it really is. You’re still exactly as he remembers. The corner of his lip twitches, hiding a smile that you still know the weight of. How it felt against your own lips. 

“The whole town is buzzing about a white Christmas. We haven’t gotten snow like this in years.” 

Inconsequential. Steve’s first words to you in five years are inconsequential. 

There are still flecks of snow on your clothes. A snowflake melts slowly on your scarf. You watch its demise. There is nothing you want to say to him. 

Steve shifts slightly. Clears his throat. You still make him nervous. “I wasn’t sure you’d still come.”

“I walked.” Your first words to Steve are inconsequential, too. 

“In all this snow?” His surprise is soft, bordering on amusement. He takes his coat off, and underneath is a cheesy holiday sweater that makes your throat clench. “Aren’t you freezing?”

You shake your head. “I like the cold.”

And then Steve smiles. Genuine, it stretches across his entire face. “Yeah,” a breathy laugh that echoes in your ears. “I remember.”

– 

“I can’t feel my legs.” Steve whines, lagging behind you as the two of you trek through the snow. You’re at the bottom of the hill, still a long way from the top. “How are you still alive?”

You’re flushed in excitement and youth. The apples of your cheeks match the pink hat that keeps sliding into your eyes. Planting your feet firmly into the snow, you continue to climb. “It’s not that cold.”

“It’s freezing–shit!” Steve slips on a patch of ice. His voice cracks as he yelps, and you giggle at his embarrassment. He glares at you. “Please don’t laugh at me. I’m miserable here, Y/N.”

“You’re the one who wanted to come. I was perfectly happy going sledding alone.” You’re halfway up the hill now. The flimsy plastic tube you’re using to sled hangs loosely from your hand. “Don’t be such a baby.”

Steve scoffs. “God forbid I try to be romantic and go sledding with my girlfriend.”

Your cheeks flush an even deeper shade of pink. It still feels weird, hearing him call you his girlfriend. The word is new, foreign, but the warmth that accompanies it is one that you hope you never get used to.

“Besides, who even goes sledding alone?” Steve continues, still pathetically behind you. “What if you got hurt? No good boyfriend should allow that to happen.”

You snort. “What, are you my knight in shining armor now?” Shifting low, you start scooping up some snow. “Is that what you want me to say?”

“All I’m saying is that I’m totally a saint.” 

You laugh, now packing the snow into your hands as you form a snowball. “Oh, I’m sure you are.” Steve hasn’t noticed what you’re doing yet. He doesn’t know that in a matter of seconds you’ll cover his face in snow. Sneaking a glance at him, your breath catches.

There are snowflakes in Steve’s hair. A few kiss his cheeks, dancing along his freckles. The brown of his eyes glow warm ember in the white snow. His skin is pink, alive and pure. He’s beautiful. Devastatingly beautiful in a way that makes you ache.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Steve asks you, face wrinkling in confusion. 

You cough, embarrassed to have been caught. The snow in your hands starts to sting. The pain grounds you, clears your mind, and you try to pretend that the molasses in your bloodstream isn’t love. 

Throwing the snowball, it explodes in Steve’s face. He shrieks, sputtering at the cold shock. “Y/N!”

You laugh, loud and happily. Your ribs ache and your breaths escape your lungs in a burn that soothes you. Steve lunges toward you, hands finding your waist as he pulls you close. He grips you tightly, he can feel your laughter in his chest. 

“You’ll pay for that!” he buries his nose in your neck and you squeal, laughing even harder. Steve pulls you impossibly closer. He relishes in your warmth. He relishes in the way you squeal when he starts to tickle you. 

Warm. Everything about you is warm. 

You are sunshine against Steve’s skin. 

–

Someone else walks into the cafe, the sound of the bell echoes in the chasm between you and Steve. There are no more snowflakes on your scarf. The warmth of the cafe is stifling, although there is a comforting familiarity to it. 

“How are you?” 

Another inconsequential question, although you can’t fault Steve for it. He’s trying. More than you are, anyways. But what are you supposed to say? What are you supposed to do, seeing your first love after five years of silence and absence? 

“Fine.” The response falls flat, mundane. Disinterested. Wincing, you really do try to sound as if you want to be here. “Good. I-I’ve been good.”

“Yeah?” Steve raises his eyebrow, leaning in. “I mean, I’m not surprised.”

Your shoulders tense. “What do you mean?”

Seeing your unease, Steve quickly explains himself. “Shit. That sounded ominous. I’m sorry,” he runs his fingers through his hair. The same way he used to do when he was seventeen. “What I meant is that Robin told me. About what you’ve been up to these last few years.”

Your shoulders drop. Of course Robin still talks to him about you. You suppose it’s only fair, seeing as how she tells you about him, too. She remained friends with you both after the breakup. She hadn’t wanted to take anyone’s side, and she’s kept true to that. 

“What has she told you?” 

It’s a real question. You know Robin would never tell Steve anything embarrassing or incriminating. But curiously gnaws at you. 

“Nothing bad, unfortunately.” Steve gently teases, but his prodding is only met with your uninterested gaze. He sighs, clears his throat. “She told me you moved to New York. Nearly screamed my ear off when your publishing deal got accepted. It’s pretty incredible.” 

Your fingers pick at the skin underneath your nails. “It’s only for one book.”

“Five years, and you still can’t accept a compliment.” 

“You’d be surprised by what can change in five years,” your eyes avoid his. “Is the coffee any good here?”

“It’s terrible,” Steve slides his mug over to you. Steam rises from the black liquid inside. “Milk and sugar. Hope it’s still how you like it.”

You take a sip, cringing at the taste. You’ve come to prefer your coffee black, bitter but rich. The coffee Steve has bought you is too sweet, but you drink more anyways. It gives you something to do. 

“I’ve been good, too. Thanks for asking.” Steve leans against his seat, placing his hands behind his head. He’s as coy as ever. The years haven’t made him humble. “I’m sure you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t wondering.” You set the mug down. “I heard you made history being the youngest English teacher at Hawkins High.”

Steve’s mouth parts in shock. In another life, you pinch his lips together and kiss the tip of his nose. In another life, five years ago, you did.

But not this life. “Robin talks about you, too.”

“Of course she does,” Steve echoes your earlier thoughts. He leans back again, eyes never leaving your face. “Were you surprised? Steve Harrington. English teacher.”

The answer comes easily. “No.” 

“No?”

“No,” you twist the mug around. Steve stares at you and you wish he would stop. He’ll see through you, he’ll see the fondness and he’ll know everything you’ve tried to erase. “You were always interested in what I was reading. You didn’t hide it very well.”

Steve smiles to himself, his own fondness leaking over. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t.”

He could never hide anything from you. 

– 

You’re in the classics section of Hawkins’ library. You wanted to check out a few books they recently collected. The librarian has your personal landline. You’ve spent more and more time in the building, reading all of the greatest authors. 

Steve always comes with you.

“Look, Y/N. I adore you, but if there aren’t any ass-kicking spies or alien babes, then I’m not reading it.” He shoves the book you hold in front of him away. “What the hell is a Brontie, anyways?”

“It’s Bronte,” you poke Steve’s cheek. “And I really need you to stop pretending that you don’t know these authors. It’s gotta be exhausting.”

He grabs the hand poking his face and twists it, forcing you to spin and land against his chest. “I’m not pretending, sweetheart. I don’t know any of these names.”

Steve claims he comes to the library with you because he gets lonely without you, but you’ve caught him rifting through Albert Camus and Erich Fromm. He could spend hours paging through their works. 

But you’ll allow him to keep this one secret from you. 

“C’mon,” you laugh, tugging Steve’s arm towards a new section. “Help me find Fyodor Dostoevsky. I want to study the way he writes his characters’ inner monologues.”

“No way that’s a real name.”

You laugh again. “Just shut up and help me, please.”

Eventually you find Dostoevsky and you become engrossed in his words. They’re intricate and complex, yet there’s a simplicity and plainness that strikes you. You write down a flurry of notes, not wanting to forget a thing; one day you want to command words the way all the authors you’ve studied seemed to do. 

You’re so lost in the world Dostoevsky has built, that you don’t notice Steve’s absence until he returns again. 

“Hey, check this out.” He’s holding a book, his finger saving the line he wants to show you. “This Pablo Neruda dude was like, a total romantic. Wanna hear?”

You lean against the bookshelf, curious. “Are you going to read to me?”

The only response is Steve’s charming smile. He steps closer to you, your breath mixes with his. “‘I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving.’”

He closes the book, but he doesn’t move away. Your foreheads touch. 

“Love”. A word neither one of you has said until now. Until Steve read you a poem and uttered the word three separate times. 

He loves you, and you love him. 

Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him. Steve kisses you back. 

– 

“Do you enjoy it?”

Steve drums his fingers on the table. “Enjoy what?”

“Being someone that kids look up to.”

He breathes out slowly. “I forgot how much you love asking heavy questions.”

You finally look at him. “You’re the one that asked to meet for coffee.”

“Fair point,” Steve scratches the back of his head. “Thank you, by the way. For agreeing.”

“I was in town.” You look away again. “The holidays. And the wedding, I guess. Nancy asked me to come.”

“I still can’t believe she got Byers to agree to a winter wedding.” Steve shakes his head, smiles to himself. “Anyways, to answer your shockingly emotional question: I do enjoy it. I love teaching. I love being someone that kids can come to. Is it terrifying? Absolutely. But selfishly, I like to think I’m good at it.”

Even though you don’t want to, you smile at him. “You’ve always been good with kids.”

Steve doesn’t expect your sincerity. The praise is small, a throwaway comment more than anything else, but it’s the nicest thing you’ve said to him in years. He’s suddenly shy, ducking his head. “I don’t know. Those little bastards were really difficult to handle.”

The little bastards being Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, Max, and El. The kids you grew up with, a consequence of being neighbors with the Wheelers. One day there was a kid on your doorstep demanding you let him use your old scooter.

Mike had been only nine then, but he had been fierce and persuasive. After giving the scooter over, Mike forced you into his life. Then the rest of the party’s lives. 

Nancy came later, then Jonathan, and then, eventually, Steve. 

“They admired you.” You tell Steve, honest. “They still do.”

He blushes again. “You really think so?”

“I remember more than you think,” you whisper, voice cracking. “I remember everything, too.”

– 

The morning of the kids’ graduation, it’s a blur of packed cars and nervous excitement. Steve offered to drive everyone, giving the parents time to get situated and find seats at the high school. 

“Your car reeks.” Mike kicks Steve’s seat.

He glares at the kid. “Why didn’t you ride in Nancy’s car, then?”

“Her and Jonathan are gross.”

Lucas fixes his graduation cap. “They whisper to themselves a lot. It’s creepy.”

Max elbows him. “It’s because they’re in love, doofus.”

“Steve and Y/N are in love, and you don’t see them whispering to themselves.” Dustin points out, which you laugh at.

“I’ll be sure to never whisper to Steve with you guys around.”

Will pokes the back of your head. “Can you tell your boyfriend to drive faster? If we’re late, I think Hopper might actually kill him.”

“My dad would not kill Steve.” El corrects. “He would only hurt him. A lot.”

Steve pales slightly, stepping on the gas. “Alright. Guess we’re getting a speeding ticket, then.”

You end up arriving at the high school with a few minutes to spare. All the kids run out the car, throwing a quick thanks as they scatter. They’re gone in a heartbeat, a mass of green caps and gowns. 

“We’ll see you guys on stage!” You shout through the window, waving as they leave. 

“Remember how nervous we were when we graduated?” Steve asks you.

You shake your head fondly at the memory. “You wouldn’t stop sneezing. I had no idea you were a nervous sneezer until then. Robin thought it was the most embarrassing thing ever. I contemplated breaking up with you.”

“It’s a debilitating condition, Y/N.”

The graduation is long, but with six separate kids to listen for and cheer on, it passes quickly. When their names get called, you and Steve are the loudest ones who cheer. Robin calls you guys dramatic, but she screams her heart out when Dustin walks the stage. 

Nancy cries when Mike walks, and Jonathan, who had only just stopped crying after seeing Will walk, has to hold back his tears yet again as he consoles her. 

The five of you are a mess, and when the kids find you after graduation, you aren’t sure who starts running first. They swarm you, arms encase you and you hold onto them tightly. Will is crying, El can’t stop jumping, the kids are all a mix of emotions, yet they all remain fixated on Steve.

“Did you see the way I walked?”

“I waved at you! Did you see me?”

“You’re really loud when you scream, ya know that?”

“A poster would’ve nice. Just saying.”

All their eyes are on him. Their questions directed at him, eager to be answered. They seek Steve’s praise, like sunflowers following the sun’s rays. 

As you stand back, watching the way Steve is so loved by the kids, you fall in love with him all over again. 

– 

Steve picks at the frayed edges of his old jacket. It’s the same one he bought with you, back when winter in Hawkins was warm and yellow and light. Now everything is dull. Grey and bleak. 

“I never thought that you’d forget.” He acknowledges your hurtful words. He doesn’t like their implications. “I’d never think that.”

Steve’s clipped words make you defensive. Heat rises to your face. It makes your heartbeat spike. “There are a lot of things I thought you’d never do.”

He sucks in a breath. 

The cafe is quiet again. Your coffee remains untouched, cold. 

Steve finally tears his eyes from you, and the loss of his gaze feels colder than you expected it to. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To see his disdain for you on his pretty face, for him to hurt how you had. Isn’t that why you agreed to this?

The way Steve’s entire demeanor changes, how quickly his smile slips from his face, makes you question why you’re even here. Suddenly you want to take it all back. To mold his face into a happier one, get him to look at you again and trick yourself into believing that the tenderness in his eyes is real. 

“I’m sorry.” The apology comes out fast, the words mesh together, but it’s the best you can manage. “That… that was mean.”

“I think mean is fair.” Steve looks at you, his lighthearted smile is back, but it doesn’t shine like before. “Honestly, I’m relieved you’re being mean.”

You’re confused. Everything he does confuses you. “Is that why you asked me to coffee? Because you wanted me to be mean to you?”

“Partially.” He sips your discarded coffee and quickly spits it out. He wipes his mouth, gagging. “Jesus, that’s fucking rancid. I don’t even know why I did that. I hate coffee, and it’s even worse when it’s cold.”

He’s making a whole show of this. The way Steve talks to you, the questions he’s asking and the way he responds to whatever you tell him. He’s trying to recreate something that isn’t there anymore. Treating your time in the coffee shop together as if you’re two friends catching up.

But you’re tired of pretending. “Why am I here, Steve?” 

“I thought we already established it’s because you walked in the snow.” 

He’s dodging. Avoiding the question and the truths that will come with it.

“Steve.” Hissing his name is familiar, it feels more natural. This is how it should be between you. Anger, disdain, raw.

“And there it is,” He winces. “The fighting begins. We lasted, what? Ten minutes? Merry Christmas to us.”

Fed up, you slam your chair back and stand. If Steve wants to evade every question and act as if this is all some giant joke, then he can go fuck himself. 

The sudden motion makes Steve jump, but he quickly stands up with you when he realizes that you’re leaving. “Shit, wait–”

Steve’s hand grazes yours and you flinch away, reeling back. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Y/N…” He stands still, the venom in your voice cementing him to the ground. In all the time he’s known you, you’ve never rejected his touch. Bitterly, he thinks that you were right about what you said when you first arrived at the cafe.

A lot can change in five years. 

You press the back of your hand to your forehead, trying to calm yourself down. Even though there’s no one else in the shop, you still don’t want to cause a scene. Not here. Not like this. 

“This was a mistake.” You swallow down bile. Steve still manages to get such a vulgar rise out of you, and you hate it. “At Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding, we won’t speak to one another. We won’t ruin their day, and you can sit with Robin. I don’t care. We can just pretend that we don’t–”

Your words die in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to finish them. 

“That we don’t what, Y/N?” Steve knows exactly what you mean to say. He narrows his eyes at you, pushes you to lay the final blow. 

Your breath stutters. Your body is cold. You may still make Steve nervous, but he still makes you nervous as well. He can still cut through you viciously in a way only someone who has truly loved you can. 

He stands before you, begging. “Say it.”

You’ve always been weak for him. “That we don’t hate each other.”

But your words are meaningless. As if you could ever hate each other. 

Steve lets out a bitter laugh. “The one thing I can’t do when it comes to you is hate you.”

“Steve–” You want to take it all back. You shouldn’t have said it. You don’t know why you even said it, but you did.

“I can go five years without hearing your voice. I can wake up without you next to me. I can spend the rest of my life regretting that I lost you.” Steve doesn’t move, he doesn’t come near you. He’s hurt and he’s in pain and you don’t know how to be the one to help him anymore. “But what I can’t do, the only thing I can’t do, is hate you.”

–

The bay window caught your eye first. Then it was the rich brown wood floors, and then the garden that overlooks Lover’s Lake. Inside the apartment there are vintage tiles that you adore and the baby-blue walls make you feel faint.

The home Steve finds for the two of you is, unsurprisingly, perfect. 

“Do we really get to live here?” You ask, breathless as you wander through the empty hallways and bedroom. Never before have you had such endless space to yourself. It feels very adult, very final, and you wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to experience this first with than Steve.

“We better get to live here.” Steve huffs, setting down another box. You tried offering to help, but he scoffed at the idea and told you to admire the apartment instead. “The deposit was fucking expensive.”

Your fingers brush over the cream white curtains. They’re soft beneath your touch. “At least your dad was kind enough to pay it.”

“And if by ‘kind enough’, you mean ‘wanted his son to move out already’, you’d be right.”

“Same difference.”

Steve laughs and the sound echoes through the empty room that you know you’ll have years together to fill. You already have a million things you want to purchase for the apartment. Steve’s only request had been that you make the apartment feel like a home.

As if anywhere with Steve doesn’t already feel like a home. 

Later in the night you order pizza, starving and exhausted from moving. There’s no table for you and Steve to sit at. No chairs to rest on. You eat your first meal in your new home on the floor, surrounded by boxes and laughter. 

It’s perfect. 

“While I’m grateful for Mrs. Wheeler for giving us her spare bedding and all,” Steve wraps the blanket tighter around the two of you. The bed beneath you is lumpy and old, the only furniture that came with the apartment, but a bed is a bed. “I feel weird sleeping in her sheets.”

You press your nose against Steve’s neck, feeling your bones sag with relief. “She’s hot. I’d sleep in her sheets any day.”

Steve chokes on his spit, falling into a coughing fit while you giggle hysterically. He hits his chest, tries to suck air back in, and you’re laughing so hard there’s tears in your eyes. 

“You can’t just say that!” He sputters, still coughing.

“I know you were thinking it!” You giggle again, your smile presses against Steve’s cheek. His body is warm and soft and he smells like home; it's addicting. He’s still coughing when you kiss his cheek and brush his hair back. “Can you stop dying already? I’m trying to kiss you here.”

Steve wraps his arms around you and throws his body on top, smushing you beneath him. You squeal, giggling even harder now as he litters your skin with feathery kisses. “You’re trying to kiss me, huh?”

His nose runs down your cheek. Down across your forehead, to the tips of your ears. He kisses every inch of skin he can reach. “I don’t think you’re doing much kissing here, Y/N.” Steve kisses your eyebrow. His lips skim your chin, they linger in your laugh lines as endless laughter pours from you. 

“It-it tickles!” More laughter, you try to shove Steve away, but he places all his weight against you and kisses the apples of your cheeks. His fingers curl around your waist, nails digging in softly. He has you right where he wants you. 

“Kiss me,” he breathes into you. Over and over he repeats himself, kissing you with every enunciation. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.”

Steve begs you and you ache. He never has to ask you. You would do anything for him. 

You tilt your head, find his lips, and you get lost in each other. He kisses you slowly, intentionally. With a softness that makes you shiver. He whispers how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, and the syrup in your lungs simmers.

“I love you,” you murmur, lips kissing his chest. “I think you’re my favorite person in the world.” 

A childish praise, but it’s everything to Steve.

– 

Steve orders you another coffee. Black this time, no sugar. The barista brings the cup over when it’s ready, the steam the only source of warmth between you and him. 

Snow falls outside and Steve hasn’t been able to look at you since you sat back down. 

You’re not entirely sure why you’re still here. Neither one of you talk. There is no more disingenuous small talk between you. No more forced smiles. Polite questions about how the other has been.

All there that remains between you and Steve is the absence of what was. 

“Robin said we’d only last five minutes.” 

You remember the surprise on her face when you told her you’d accept Steve’s offer for coffee. She didn’t think you’d say yes, and the surprise quickly morphed into skepticism. She placed her book down, patted your hand, and told you good luck.

Steve laughs, short and staccato. “She has such shit faith in us. We’re nearing twelve minutes now.”

“We’re stubborn.” The coffee is disgusting even without the excess sweetness. Steve is right. The coffee here is truly horrible. 

“If I remember correctly, you’ve always been the more stubborn one.” He isn’t mean when he says this. More observant, stating a fact.

You set the coffee down. “And if I remember correctly, you hit your head a lot when we were kids.”

A small smile. “Which would mean?”

“That it’s possible you don’t remember anything correctly.” You tug at your scarf. “Maybe I wasn’t as stubborn as you’re remembering.”

Steve laughs this time, a real laugh that melts the ice that froze over moments ago. “Whenever we argued, you never let me get a word in. I’ll never forget that. I would’ve found it impressive, if it weren’t directed at me.”

Snippets of memories flash through your mind. You and Steve hardly argued throughout your entire relationship, but when you did, the fallout was always scattered pieces. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m stubborn.” You say weakly, still not quite ready to admit otherwise.

“I’d argue with you, but I was hoping we’d make it to fifteen minutes.” Steve takes your coffee, sips it again and cringes like he did before. Only he doesn’t say anything this time. 

“Is there a prize if we make it to fifteen?”

He smiles into the coffee. “Possibly.”

Silence again.

Steve keeps the mug in his hands, using its warmth to soothe his cold fingers. Years ago, he would use the heat of your hands to warm him. But your hands remain folded in your lap and you no longer want his touch. 

The silence eats at you. You bite your lip, twist your fingers together. You don’t know why you stayed, but you don’t know why Steve stayed, either.

“I was pretty stubborn, wasn’t I?” 

Steve looks at you. His eyes shine for a brief moment. “Maybe a little.”

– 

Shortly after moving into your apartment, you started writing. After years of reading other people’s stories, you felt that it was time to write your own. But finding the story was difficult. Every night you stared at your blank pages, willing them to fill with the words you were unable to write. 

As for Steve, he started picking up spare shifts at the local diner. He hated being a waiter. He thought it was degrading, but as a twenty-two year old with no college degree or work experience, it was all he could do. 

Money was tight, you were both starting to feel the weight of truly being on your own. You weren’t just two kids anymore. There were real responsibilities now. Grappling with your futures rather than imagining them.

And then one day you got a phone call that changed everything. 

“I can’t miss this interview!”

“And I can’t just leave work in the middle of the day to drive you, Y/N.” Steve sighs deeply over the phone. You can practically envision the way he pinches the bridge of his nose and tugs at his hair. It’s grown long. Longer than it’s ever been before. You like it this way. 

You glance at your watch and curse, frustrated tears burning your eyes. “Steve, please. This could make or break my entire future.”

“Sweetheart, I understand that, but if I leave work early, I’m getting fired.”

“You don’t know that!” You need him to say yes. You need him to drop everything for you and drive you to Bedford so that you can meet with a literary agent and discuss your work. 

It all happened so fast. One moment you were sending yet another draft of short story ideas to random agents. The next, you’re getting a phone call offering an interview in a town an hour away from Hawkins.

None of it felt real. That is, until the catch fell against you: the agent can only meet today and you don’t have a car. 

“David explicitly told me that if I leave work early one more time, my ass is grass.” Steve rubs his face, exhausted. He wants to help you, he wants you to finally get your big break. You’re far too talented for Hawkins, you deserve to be somewhere better; but the reality is that you can’t afford it right now. “Can’t someone else drive you?”

“I already called everyone else.” Your face is hot from anxiety. “Robin. Nancy. Jonathan. Hell, even Mike and the kids! But no one can take me and I have to be there in two hours.”

“Y/N…” 

Your head falls against the wall. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Steve’s heart clenches. He sucks in a breath. “I know that, okay? I-I do. But I can’t afford to lose this job. We’re already behind on rent, we still owe my dad for the deposit–”

“But you can always get another job!” You exclaim, losing whatever grasp you have left of your sanity. “I mean, Jesus, Steve. You’re just a waiter.”

The line is silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry?”

His tone is quiet, it laces guilt into your veins. 

“I-I just meant that there’s a shitload of restaurants in Hawkins,” you’re rambling now, regretting everything. You shouldn’t have called. You shouldn’t have said what you did. But now it’s too late and you’re in too deep. Letting out a breath, your lips tremble. “But there’s only one literary agent who wants to meet with me.”

There’s yelling in the background. Steve mumbles something to someone, you think you hear David yelling at him to get back to work. Muffled rustling, followed by a string of curses.

“I gotta get back to work.” Steve says curtly, not even giving you a chance to respond before he’s already hanging up the phone.

The dial tone rings in your ear. 

You never make it to your interview.

Steve gets home late that night. He walks past you, he doesn’t acknowledge you besides the slam of the bedroom door. 

– 

“I never apologized to you.”

Steve sets the mug down. He doesn’t ask you what you mean. “No, you didn’t.”

You swallow. “I… I’m really sorry, Steve.”

He shrugs. It was a long time ago. He’s forgotten the sting of your words. The marks they left have long since faded. “It was your dream.”

“But you were more than just a waiter. Hell, you were the only reason we didn’t lose the apartment.” You rub the back of your neck, relieving the tension that knots it. “God, I was so fucking naive. I’m sorry for not realizing sooner, for not appreciating everything you did for us.”

Steve shrugs again. “We were just kids.”

The coffee you drank suddenly sinks in your stomach. 

We were just kids.

Sometimes you forget that your relationship with Steve had been your childhood. The two of you met when you were fifteen, fell in love when you were seventeen, and fell apart when you were twenty-three. 

You’d been so young together. The mistakes you made, the hurt you caused, were childish gashes with bullet-sized exit wounds. 

“We were just kids, weren’t we?” The nostalgia in your voice surprises even you. 

A fond smile ghosts Steve’s face. It’s barely there, almost imperceptible, but it’s there. “Young and in love. Now we’re just old.”

“At least we aged well.”

Steve raises his eyebrow at you. “Was that a compliment, Y/N?”

You smile, coy. “Who said anything about you? I was referring to myself.”

Steve scoffs, light hearted. You expect him to retaliate, to tease you how you’re teasing him. Instead, his gaze softens. He leans forward, drawn into you as he always is, and lowers his voice. “You’re as beautiful as ever.”

Years separate you and Steve. It’s been nearly a decade since love first tied you to each other. There used to be a knot, tied into something intricate, small, yet lovely, that connected you to Steve. 

And yet, with one sentence, the strings come together again.

“I still haven’t forgotten,” you fall back in your seat, away from Steve. “How you hurt me.”

He mirrors your body language, moving away as well. “And what about how you hurt me?”

You cross your arms. Steve crosses his. Staring at one another, a stalemate is reached. The memories that tie you together are both your vice and your virtue. The love is still remembered, it’s still warm to the touch, but so is the hurt. 

Robin would call you both childish if she were here right now. You can practically hear her now, annoyance in her voice as she rolls her eyes at the staring contest unfolding. She’s always resented how stubborn you both are.

“Why did you call me?”

Steve inhales sharply. He knows he has to answer the question. It’s only fair that he gives you an explanation for why he decided to call you at three in the morning the Friday before your plane was due to arrive in Hawkins’ small airport for Christmas and a wedding you both were invited to. 

But he can’t. Not yet, at least.

“If it makes me look any better, I called Robin first.” Steve forces a laugh out. “Granted, she told that if I called you that I’d probably die. But still. Blame her.”

Everything unravels after that.

“You never showed up.”

“Y/N.”

A crack to the surface, followed by a fist of anger that shatters everything. “You promised me you’d be there.”

“I was dick, I know–”

“Do you know how humiliated I was?” Steve winces, and his shame only enrages you more. “How utterly shitty it was when all our friends, our families, asked me where you were, and I couldn’t answer them?”

“Y/N, please just let me explain–”

“No.” The mug spills over as you hit the table, standing up furiously. You’re crying. You don’t remember the tears building. “You don’t get to call me in the middle of the night, buy me dogshit coffee, and then spoon feed me shitty excuses! You were my boyfriend, I wanted to marry you, and you abandoned me.”

“Is the coffee really that bad?”

Your jaw clenches. Steve rubs his neck, looking everywhere but at you. He’s trying to be funny. His first words to you in five years were inconsequential, and now he’s trying to use humor to ease the sting of guilt that he feels seeing you.

The decision is an easy one. 

“Goodbye, Steve.”

His hand grips yours before you can even turn away. Startled by his sudden touch, you don’t pull back. Not this time, at least. You’re frozen, staring at Steve as he stares at you. He’s pale. His chest heaves and there’s terror in his eyes.

“Don’t.” It’s all he can say to you.

“Let me go.” But still you don’t pull away.

Let us go. Please. 

“I…” He blinks, almost winces to himself. Steve doesn’t know how to tell you the truth. Not anymore. Not like how he used to. But you’re pulling away again and he’s just gotten you back and he can’t lose you. Not again. “I resented you.”

Your back straightens. “Excuse me?”

“I-I know how bad it sounds, but if you just–” Steve gestures behind him, tries to sit you back down. But you don’t move. His eyes plead with you. “Y/N, please.”

He looks so akin to the boy you once knew. The resemblance twists the tendons in your chest, forces the air out of your lungs. You don’t move, but you don’t leave, either.

Steve accepts all that you’ll give him. 

– 

The home you built with Steve loses its warmth. Lazy Sunday mornings cease to exist. He doesn’t hold you at night. Dates go unplanned, dinners eaten alone. Laughter dies and you stop waiting for Steve to come home. Everything stills. Lost in a time capsule that was once your dream. 

Winter comes and the snow that blankets Hawkins softens the dull ache of the distance that’s built between you and Steve. He starts taking night classes at a local community college and you spend your nights writing. 

The first story you write is about a lonely barn owl who hops through dwindling branches trying to find its mate. The creature calls out for someone, its wails echoing through the deserted forest that once was alive with creation. 

A snowflake that gets lost in a storm that it created becomes your second story. Its frail, lithe body too transparent to be anything other than alone. 

Then you write about a dandelion that mourns for its seeds that have been cruelly torn from its body. 

Over and over you write about loss. How cold it leaves a person, the emptiness that can never quite be filled. 

In the end, it’s this sense of loss that gives you everything you’ve ever wanted, yet leaves you with nothing to show for it. 

“I sent my writing to a short story show. I got in.”

Steve unbuttons his work shirt. He worked a double shift at the restaurant, but spares you a tired smile. “That’s great.”

The praise is small, but the rarity of it makes it feel like gold upon your skin. Cheeks flushed, you smile back at him shyly. “Thank you.”

Steve goes back to changing out of his clothes and you’re left to deal with the silence that always seems to follow you these days. Your feet carry you to the bed, sitting down gently as you watch him. He doesn’t shy away from your gaze, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, either.

“The show is in two weeks. Christmas Eve.”

“Oh,” Steve pauses in the closet’s doorway. His hand rests on an old sweater you got him when you first started dating. He pulls out a different one instead. “Well. I already took the day off, so I’ll come.”

You try not to focus on the fact that he makes attending sound like an obligation. A dull chore he has to complete. 

“Robin already promised she’d be front row. Jonathan and Nancy, too.” You get up, stand behind Steve, rest your head on the back of his neck and encircle your arms around him. He stiffens at the touch, so do you. But you can’t let him go. “I think even some of the kids will come. And my parents, obviously.”

“Sounds like you’ll have an entire crowd devoted to you.”

“Yeah, but I only really want you there.” You whisper, vulnerable.

Steve sucks in a breath, releases it. He doesn’t say anything else. 

The next two weeks you read your collection of short stories aloud for hours on end. You rehearse how to present them, the right cadence and intonations. How to make the loneliness heavier, the serenity sweeter. You don’t let Steve listen, claiming you want to surprise him alongside everyone else the day of the show.

Later, you’ll come to understand that you had been afraid of how he’d react. If he’d even react at all. 

The show is a haze of people and praise. Robin brings you flowers, Jonathan takes pictures of you with all the kids. Dustin surprises you with an old leather journal he found for you to write all your ideas in and El hands you a ribbon to bind it. 

Your mother cries and your father hugs you warmly. Mrs. Wheeler and Nancy bring Christmas cookies and organize the large audience you’ve built for yourself in the seats provided by the show. It takes two entire rows to seat everyone you love. 

Robin saves a seat for Steve. He’s late.

The night is spent listening to brilliant writers reading their stories to a small, but kind, audience. There are a total of eight featured writers. You’re scheduled to read your writing last.

After the second writer finishes, you look anxiously over at the audience and bite your lip when you still don’t see Steve. The fifth writer goes on and your nails are bloody from picking at them. Mike murmurs something to Robin, who shakes her head and nervously shifts in her seat, eyes never leaving the empty seat next to her. 

The seventh writer shares a story about newfound love and its warmth. 

Nancy finds your gaze and the pitying look in her eyes makes your nausea even worse. 

You stand in front of a mass of people who lean into every word you read aloud. The seat next to Robin remains empty.

Steve never comes.

And it’s the last time you ever wait for him.

–

“I really was proud of you, you know.” Steve says softly, regretfully. “Robin told me you won an award later that night.”

“I did.” The award had been your ticket out of Hawkins. It got you money, connections with publishing agents. You moved to New York not even a week later.

Steve looks down. “I should’ve been there.”

You don’t bother to agree with him. You don’t want to coddle him, lessen the guilt he feels for how cruelly he hurt you. You’ll never forget the pit that formed in your stomach when you realized he wasn’t coming.

“I regret what I did. Every single day I wish I had gone.”

“You resented me instead, apparently.” Your laugh is cruel, cold.

Steve sits back down numbly, his body falls and the seat beneath him catches it. He places his hands on the table, slowly, defeated. He looks up at you, allows himself to finally confess everything. “I resented how easy everything seemed for you. I mean, you were making a name for yourself while I waited shitty tables and slept through grueling night courses.”

You clench your fists, still refusing to sit down. “And that gave you a right to diminish my own accomplishments?”

“Nothing makes sense when you’re twenty-three.”

Not an omission of truth, but rather acknowledgement of how differently you see the world when you’re young. Though you want more from Steve, you accept this. In a way, you suppose he’s right. 

“I didn’t go to the show because I was scared of how much I was falling behind.” Steve doesn’t look away from you. He’s laying all his cards on the table, open and waiting for you to read them. “We were in over our heads, but somehow only I was the one drowning.”

Rent, bills owed, grappling with adulthood while still shedding your adolescence. Loneliness while being together. Careers that hurt and dreams that struggled for breath. You and Steve had been drowning together. Until one day you weren’t. 

Steve drinks the coffee, he doesn’t pressure you to sit down again. Instead, he sighs. “I let your words get into my head. In your mind I was just a waiter, and I felt that nothing I was doing with my life was worthwhile. The only thing I had done right by the time I was twenty was having you love me.”

The anger that was quick to rise is also quick to dim. There isn’t any left for you to fight. 

Finally, you sit. You take the coffee from Steve and the now cold liquid is a reminder of how much time has passed. “The age old question: do actions speak louder than words?”

Did what I say justify what you did? Or did they cause each other, creating a cycle that we can never escape? 

You won’t forgive him, but you understand him. Steve was hurting just as much as you were, only his hurt came from your own insecure and unsure words. You told him he was just a waiter because you were scared all you’d ever be was an unknown writer. The weight of your future made you scared, the uncertainty of it all overwhelmed you and made you cruel. 

Steve had fallen victim to the same fate.

“Robin told me it was growing pains.” Steve says. “What happened between us. It was all just growing pains.”

Begrudgingly you smile. Your cards are on the table as well. “You called me to discuss growing pains?”

The crinkle of Steve’s smile warms the cold cafe. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

“Tell me, then. Are we done growing?” You lean forward, allow your body to be near Steve’s again and the buzz of the proximity sets your skin on fire. He breathes in sharply. He hasn’t been this close to you in what’s felt like a lifetime. 

Steve leans forward too. You can smell his cologne, his eyes still shine how you remember them. His face is the same, though weathered with age and experiences you no longer know about. You count the moles that scatter his face, heart thumping wildly when you realize you still remember how many there are.

He’s still so beautiful. 

You’re weak for Steve. Your bones still remember the weight of his love.

“I don’t think we’ll ever be done.” Steve sinks even closer, nose almost bumping your cheek. You hold your breath, body humming. 

Breathless, you ask him, “then where does that leave us?”

Steve pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. He studies your face, the familiar angles and peaks of your nose. Your eyes, how they’re still his favorite color. Your hair is the same, maybe a little shorter now, and your perfume still the warm vanilla that reminds him of home. 

You’re still the girl Steve fell in love with when he was a kid. He’s still the boy you fell in love with when you were a child. There is still hurt, memories you both want to forget, but there is love within it. Young love can be formed anew, if someone lets it. 

“Together.” Steve finally says. “It leaves us together.” 

-

⌑ writing masterlist

⌑ please feel free to like, reblog, and comment. i adore hearing from you guys :)

[penkura]

First Mother's Day

Note: I decided to do a special post in what is now my OP Men as Dads series, and do a Mother's Day headcanon/blurb post. I understand this day can be rough for some, but I hope that whether you celebrate or not, whether your mom is in your life or not, that you have a lovely day otherwise and if this isn't your cup of tea, I hope there's something else that can entertain you today. <3

If you'd like my thoughts on other OP men as dads (Shanks, Kid, Usopp, etc.), please just ask and I'll give an answer! I'll include Luffy in this despite my viewing him as a son or brother, but it probably won't be x Reader based. Requests are being worked on as well.

I am using baby Ace image to break up this and the actual content from now on lol. He's just so cute. 🥺

Ace is going to go all out for your first Mother’s Day. He’s buying flowers, candies, and cards, all from him and your daughter. Even if you tell him you don’t want anything except a quiet day at home with the two of them, he’s buying you gifts.

He’ll likely buy you a bracelet with your daughter’s name on it, or maybe a charm bracelet with her birthstone, so you can add any more in the future if/when you have more children. Ace will try to make you breakfast in bed, but he ends up burning the bacon to the point your smoke alarm goes off, and you have to open all the windows to air out the house the rest of the day (at least it’s a nice day out). He orders out breakfast from a nearby diner to make sure you have something that morning, he’ll even try to take your daughter out for a walk or to Luffy and Sabo’s place for the day to give you a break, but you insist on going along.

“You should have the day off though!”

“Ace, I don’t want a day off. Rogue is only three month’s old, and I’d much rather spend the day with you and her than alone. That’s not a fun Mother’s Day to me.”

The three of you end up at Luffy and Sabo’s place, the two uncles absolutely adoring their niece as she coos and lets them hold her without any crying or fussing. When you get home later that night, Ace watches you get Rogue ready for bed. He knew from the start that you would be a great mother, and sometimes, he just wishes his own mother was around to see it, and to meet her granddaughter.

~~

Law has a plan that gets thrown off when your son decides to be born a week earlier than expected, on Mother’s Day itself. He still tries to do something for you, even though the original plan of taking you out for brunch and giving you a quiet day at home while you waited for your baby to be born was now out the window. He should’ve known, ever since he met Luffy all his plans go haywire at some point. At least it led to you two meeting eventually.

Once you’ve gone to sleep and your son Rosi is in the nursery at the hospital, Law slips out to quickly put something together. He has a gift for you, a mother’s ring that will fit into your wedding band, he just needs flowers, or chocolate, or something to add to it. He doesn’t really like to be cliché, but he ends up with flowers, at least they’re something pretty you can have in your hospital room and when you’re released to take your baby boy home.

The girl in the hospital gift shops tells him he looks happy, even if Law doesn’t really show it. She swears it’s just something in the way he speaks while he asks her to pull together a small bouquet for you. He is happy, beyond that actually, knowing you two have a son, you both are healthy and safe. He has a family again, his very own. The flowers and ring aren’t enough to convey his gratitude to you for giving him a family to call his own, but it’s a start. There will be plenty more times for him to do so in the future.

When Law gets back to your room, you’re awake again and in the middle of nursing your son, a nurse helping you when you need it. She notices the flowers he’s brought and leaves you both with a smile, saying she’ll come back in a few minutes.

“Where’d you get off to?”

“Had to get something,” Law comes over and presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you a smile, “Happy Mother’s Day.”

~~

Penguin has thought of what to do every day since your daughter Wren was born. He’s come up with multiple ways to celebrate your first Mother’s Day, but nothing seems just right to him. He’s thought of brunch, breakfast in bed, giving you a day out with your friends while he watches your daughter, or even a weekend trip away, leaving your baby with her grandparents, but nothing works out. Restaurants and diners he calls are all booked up already, you hate eating in bed because of crumbs, your friends all had plans either with their own mothers or their spouses and kids, and your own parents were out of town for the next two weeks.

He ends up with no real plans for the day and feels terrible about it as it approaches. Its going to be another normal Sunday for the three of you, he hates the idea of that because it’s your first Mother’s Day, it should be special, shouldn’t it?

When the day finally comes around, Penguin is up first, hearing Wren’s little babbles through the baby monitor, and going to pick her up. At nine-months-old she’s figured out how to stand up on her own, still no steps being taken by herself, but when she sees Penguin enter the nursery, she grins and starts bouncing up and down, holding the rail of her crib and shouting “da” over and over. It makes Penguin smile as he picks her up, kissing her chubby cheek which makes her squeal.

“Good morning, Wren! Let’s keep quiet, mommy’s still asleep, okay?”

“Da!”

He laughs a bit, lifting her up over his head to make her giggle again, as she reaches her little hands towards his face.

“You know…a great gift would be for you to say ‘mama’ for the first time, yeah?”

“Ma?”

“Yeah, you’re close! Now, just say ‘mama’.”

Wren sticks her tongue out while she tries to speak, Penguin helping her along for several minutes until she finally says something close to ‘mama’.

“Mm…ma.”

Penguin sighs a bit, but nods as he brings Wren down and kisses her cheek again, making her giggle as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“You two sure have been having fun.”

Both look to you in the doorway, no shortage of smiles among the three of you, as Wren lights up and starts to reach for you, trying to say she wants you to hold her. You both take just a moment too long to get her to you, and it makes her fuss and kick her legs a bit.

“Ma…ma!”

You didn’t even get her in your arms, you and Penguin both freezing in place for a moment while Wren continues to fuss and whine, almost in tears since you haven’t held her yet.

“Mama!”

“I—”

“Her first word!!” You quickly take Wren from Penguin and hug her close, kissing her cheeks and forehead telling her how proud you are of your little girl. “This is the best Mother’s Day gift!”

At least that worked out, even if he didn’t have a plan in mind.

~~

Sanji wouldn’t have waited nearly a year to celebrate you as a mother if you hadn’t forced him to. With fraternal twins to now take care of and raise, you’ve both been through bouts of exhaustion and elation over the two babies you brought into the world. Sora and Angel, your precious blessings, were nearly a year old, and you’d already started planning a birthday party for them, completely ignoring the fact Mother’s Day was a few weeks prior to their turning one-year-old.

Sanji didn’t forget, he had a plan, one that included your twins scribbling away to make cards for you, though he didn’t expect the two to be so fussy about it and mark each other up more than the papers. He learned very quickly to not give babies or toddlers markers, unless they were washable. You still don’t fully realize how Sora ended up with a bright green mark over his right eye and Angel had a hot pink line down her left arm.

The rest was simple, breakfast in bed, made by your professional chef husband of course, and whatever else you wanted for the rest of the day. If you want to lay in bed and watch TV without interruption, he’d put your twins in the stroller and take them to the park. If you wanted to turn your phone off and sleep the day away, he’d take over and leave you alone until you needed anything. Whatever you want, it’s a day to celebrate you as the mother of his children, he wasn’t going to deny you anything.

But when you do tell him what you want, after finishing off breakfast, Sanji’s a bit surprised.

“Are you…sure?”

“Mm-hm,” you nod and try to keep Sora from grabbing the butter knife on the tray, making him whine while Angel slept in Sanji’s arms, “I want to spend the day with the three of you.”

“You…do that every day though, my love.”

“So?” smiling, you kiss the top of Sora’s head and watch Angel as she starts to stir awake, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands, “You guys are my family. I hate the idea of not being with the three of you today, so I’d rather just spend it like we always do.”

Sanji nods a bit, seeming to understand, greeting Angel when she wakes up fully with a kiss to the forehead. It makes you happy to watch him with both your children, but especially your daughter. How could he ever think you’d want to spend the day alone? Not when you had these two blessings as your children and Sanji as your husband.

“We could still take these two to the park later, maybe burn off some energy so they nap at a decent time.”

“Of course! Whatever you want, my love.”

~~

Zoro doesn’t even fully realize that its Mother’s Day until Nami says something to him. The past few weeks with your son have been exhausting for both of you, but he can’t believe he forgot that this was a thing. He has nothing planned and isn’t sure what to do. He’s running out of time, it’s literally just a few hours away before Nami offers to take you out for the day wherever the Sunny docks in the morning. Zoro will stay with your son on the ship, and you’ll get a day off from being a mom and wife, the two think it’s the best thing to give you on such short notice, though Nami does up the interest on his debt again for this.

You don’t even get to say good morning to your husband or son before Nami has dragged you off to whatever she has planned, its really just a normal girl’s day out with shopping and lunch. Most of what you buy isn’t even for you, it’s baby items that you need or clothes you think are adorable. It just ended up making you miss your son more as the day went on.

When you do get back to the ship, your son is wailing and no one has been able to calm him down, not even Zoro while he tries his hardest and lightly bounces your baby as he shushes him gently. As soon as you drop your bags you’re taking him from your husband and holding him close to calm him down.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, mommy’s here, Keitaro. I’m back.”

He slowly calms down once he realizes its you, burying his little face in your shoulder and keeping a tight grip on your shirt. When you ask Zoro what the deal was with Nami dragging you off the ship so early, before you even had the chance to hold Keitaro that day, he explains the situation and it just makes you tilt your head.

“…it’s Mother’s Day?”

You hadn’t even realized it. That just makes Zoro feel bad that it caused your son such distress, and he and Nami both apologize for not talking to you about it beforehand. They both assumed the other had discussed it with you. You didn’t really care to celebrate, all that mattered was being with your husband and son, the rest of your day spent with just the two of them.

Note 2: Out here dropping names like I didn't say I'd make a post about that at some point lol. So, the firstborns in order of character are Portgas D. Rogue, Trafalgar D. Rosinante (called Rosi cause it's too damn cute), Wren, Sora and Angel, and Roronoa Keitaro.

[maudie-duan]

Summary: What happens when the man you've loved since childhood decides he's ready to settle down, but it turns out you are no longer his forever. How would you cope with the sudden engagement? For Blair, it's a hard pill to swallow, knowing that the beautiful girl smiling in all his pictures will get her forever. I guess it's a blue Christmas this year.

A/N: I have to make a confession: I hate Christmas music, but the first time I heard Sabrina Carpenter's 'Cindy Lou Who' I knew this was my kind of Christmas song. I love a sad song, and this song feeds my "angsty soul," So please give it a listen before you read. This whole story is my interpretation of the song. Hope you like it. Happy Holidays enjoy!!!!

Requests: Here

Word Count: 6K

Warning: Mentions of Sex, Strong Angst and Langue, Family Dynamics, Mentions of Pregnancy, Heartbreak.

I don’t think sneaking my ex-boyfriend out of my parent’s house is the best look for anyone on Christmas morning, but technically, it’s still Christmas Eve if you haven’t gone to sleep yet, right?

To be fair, he was the one knocking on my window, stumbling his way to my bed. Casually, bringing up the past, circling back to things I thought I had already unpacked with my best friend after I scrolled his girlfriend’s social media, backtracking five years, to be honest, she had me broader line obsessed.

He made his way to my bed and in between my legs, touching place and sharing space in the best way we knew how, and that’s the funny thing about having history with someone—sometimes it makes it harder to say no when it’s knowingly what you want the second they step foot into a place that once served as a sanctuary to you both—a garden where words weaved trust, that turned into secrets, carving out a space of our very own; a world that we created and while he wasn’t my first kiss he was everything else.

I’ve lost track of how many times our words of forever were passed between our mouths, tangled in shared breaths of “I swear until the day I die, I’m yours.” When you’re young, you believe it because it’s all you have—and we took that with us when we thought we were ready for the world—two foolish kids on an endeavor to forge these grown-up dreams of a grand gesture without a second thought, only relying on the word “love,” like love could weather any storm.

The hardest lesson we learned was that love isn’t always enough. Sometimes, you can love someone with all your being and forget that they’re not a possession—but a person. Was that our mistake? I don’t know, but we wanted to be our own people at some point and find ourselves outside of only identifying as “we.” 

Let me tell you, that’s a hard pill to swallow, and from time to time, I still find myself choking on it, especially when it is obvious we still click—we didn’t need sex to know that we still worked, fit together like a puzzle that had been forgotten, and dusted off, only to find that you still had every single piece. Still, when Harry tried to kiss me goodbye, I pulled away.

“Hey—what is it…tell me?” he asks

“Nothing…it’s just late. You know how my mom is about Christmas morning.” I lie because the reality of his leaving is starting to sink in. I’m not ready for him to leave, but we both knew that there would be an ending to this.

He laughs, attempting to shrug his jacket on, and I glimpse the joy of the familiar memory dance across his features, “Yeah, she can be kind of crazy, right?”

“Yeah—but not any crazier than your mom,” I laugh. 

“Hey now—actually…you know they kind of feed off each others crazy…” He says, fighting to find the sleeve of his jacket, and when I reach to help, something falls from his pocket, a loud thud clashing against the hardwood floor. I look down, thinking he knocked something off my shelf, but then I see it.

We both stare at the ground, a small box lying in the space between us, “You shouldn’t have…” I declare, bending down—Looking back now, I don’t know what I was thinking—You know this tends to happen when you rely on your wit to get you out of awkward situations. I thought it would be cute and clever. I would open the box, and it wouldn’t be exactly what I knew it was—a ring, but not just any ring—the ring.

“Hey—hey—hey…give me that,” He jokes, trying to turn it into a game, but I’m in too deep to give it up. I can only focus on getting a peek at the ring, which is now a broken promise, and right this second, I’m desperate enough to open this box—basque in the feeling of the “what if” this was mine.

I turn away, shoving his hand out of the way, compulsively straining to get a look at this ring, immediately getting aggressive when he tries to reach over my shoulder. “Stop Harry—” I urge.

“Come on, Blair—this isn’t funny…” He says, unamused, but he’s too late, and as I shove my elbow into his ribs, the box is flipping open, the glint of the diamond catching the light of the moon shining through the window. He stops then because what’s the use, right? Here it is—the ring—perfect, everything I would have wanted. It’s almost like a slap in the face, like he looked back on one of the many pictures I sent over the years, thinking one day this would be me. 

The ring is stunningly beautiful. There is so little light yet it’s drawn to every facet; immaculate, precise cuts creating the perfect sparkle. There is nothing humble about it, but nothing seems to be humble about him anymore, including his life choices—and here I am, holding my breath, afraid to move, listening to his flustered exhale when I slam the box closed, a loud clap shut. 

Without a word, I nudge him away from me, “Blair, listen—I was going to tell you…”

“When—? Before or after we had sex, Harry…Is that what this was?” I yell.

He panics and cups a hand over my mouth. It’s not hard, but it annoys the hell out of me, and I wrench his arm away, forcing him toward the window, “Don’t you fucking do that—you don’t get to do that—”

“I’m sorry—but seriously, Blair, let’s not wake your family,”

I let out a dry laugh, “Oh—trust me, they would understand—” I seeth.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Blair, that’s not fair—I don’t know what this was…I just really wanted to see you—” he says, raking a hand through his hair, a deep crease forming between his brows, and he licks his lips, running a hand down his face as he turns away.

“What do you want me to do? This is the way it’s supposed to work out. You know my family …I don’t really have a say. You know that—”

“Please—Harry—you’re almost 30 years old. You don’t think you have any say in your life?”

He turns around, a condescending laugh filling the space, “You of all people should understand…”

“Well—I thought I did…but I don’t think I do anymore. It just doesn’t make sense…none of this seems to make sense anymore. I don’t understand how we could be perfectly fine one day, and as soon as your dad put you on the path to be a partner at his firm—which we both knew would happen—” I start.

He shakes his head, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, contemplating my words, “Help me make it; make sense. When we knew all along what the path was going to be. Were did “WE” get lost because I did nothing but support you, and then you went away on that trip with your family—”

“And you’re on about this again…” he interrupts, words cutting like knives because this was the theme of some of our biggest arguments.

I’m shaking my head this time, confusion inching through my brain, straining to grasp for details I thought I packed away. “Now that’s not fair…” I force, my throat burning with the effort of biting back tears. 

“Listen—this is my fault—” he says, reaching for the box, “I shouldn’t have come. I knew this would be a bad idea, but I just—”

I grasp onto the box, wanting to catch his eyes. I want to see the regret, “Tell me, does it hurt you, hurting me…I could have waited for your mom’s Facebook post…I know she’s over the moon with her…just fucking smitten that’s she’s everything and more—”

“I should go,” he says, his eyes darting to the window before he slides the box into his pocket. He opens the window, and the cold breeze flits into the dark room, reminding me of how little I have on. My eyes float to the bed, already mourning us like a fading memory—disappointment crawling up my spine, the sick twist of regret already tearing at my emotions as tears fill my eyes.

“Yeah, this was a bad idea…” I tell him, choking on the words, and I can feel my body starting to tremble. I want him gone, forever, to leave and be with his girlfriend, who will get him in the daylight. Who will kiss the mouth of the man I love for the rest of her life—and I’m sick—sick with the thought of them—and damn—This was easier when there was distance when I could pretend he didn’t exist.

“I’m sorry, bee—” He whispers, a slight trimmer in his voice as he reaches out to me, and let him because if this is all that is left. I want that last kiss. I want a kiss from the lips that were once mine, but when he pulls me in, I reach for his face, and he interjects, grasping my hands in his, denying me my one last wish.

“Harry…” I whisper, hot tears burning my eyes, “It’s just you and me right now…” I plead because he has that look of goodbye in his eyes; the reality setting in, like me standing here in his old tee-shirt, is too real for him—The cold draft of the air brings the world in with it. Yes, I feel it too, but his hands are so warm, his face is so sweet and kind, and I know what he’s about to do.

“Bee—” He tries, swallowing hard, like the words are stuck in his throat, tears drawing in his eyes, and he rubs his lips together, shaking his head as his eyes dart to our hands, and I grip his hands harder because he’s going to leave—he’s going to leave, and I’m never going to get his back; This man—the love of my life. There’s never a time he hasn’t had me, and he’s going to leave, he’s going to move on, and he will still have me because I could never let him go.

And when the tears spill over and fall down his cheeks, my body aches with a longing that’s so deep in my bone it hurts—my love for him hurts so fucking bad that I don’t think I’ll ever not love him or not want to be with him. He’s standing here breaking my heart all over again, and I still love him. I still want him always and forever like he fucking promised me because he did promise, and now she gets him; she gets to have my always and forever.

Now he’s pulling away, and I won’t let him go; I can’t let him go. “Bee…please…” he begs softly.

“I love you,” I cry out, “I love you so much, H—” and he pulls me into his body, letting me sob into his chest, my hot breath seeping into his body, and I breathe him in, trying to memorize our scent, but it there like muscle memory something I could never forget.

“You know I love you, Bee…” he breathes, pressing a warm kiss to the top of my head, “You know I will always love you, but you know that we can never do this again…”

His words slice through my pain, filling me with rage, and he’s right. We can’t do this ever again; he doesn’t get to have me like this and go back to her—and I’m so fucking mad at myself for falling into his trap because I’ve been so good. I can’t even remember the last time I talked to him. He knew what would happen when he knocked on my window, and I was so stupid to let him—yet here he is still wielding his power. 

“You have to go,” I tell him, trying to force myself from his arms, and Harry’s grip tightens.

“I’m sorry, Bee—”

“No—this was wrong—this was all wrong, and you shouldn’t have done this…we shouldn’t have done this—”

I push him toward the window, angry adrenaline a trimmer in my fingertips when I bring a shaky hand up to tuck my hair behind my ear, “You did this to us…” I tell him.

“I’m—” he starts, and I know he’s just going to try and apologize, but that will never be enough, not when I know what happens next—and what? Did he use me? Did he feel sad and come looking for my sympathy?

“Leave—” I spit.

“Bee…come on—”

“Leave!” I say louder, loud enough to send an echo through the room. He stiffens, his panic reaching his face, and I cross my arms over my chest.

“Fine—” he hisses, his hair falling into his face as he bends his body halfway through the window. Harry doesn’t even look back; he doesn’t even give me a tiny morsel of hope, and I don’t know what I was expecting. Then Harry is out the window, and I slam it shut, swiping the curtains closed.

“Merry fucking Christmas, you Asshole…” I breathe, falling onto the bed to cry. 

…

Here’s the thing about Christmas in my house: we wake up and celebrate, and nothing else is allowed. It’s the one time of the year when my mom is allowed to live in the delusion that everything is merry and bright. There’s no space to be sad. She’s up with the rising sun, her hair perfectly manicured, her make-up set for pictures, wrapped in a festive robe she just “rolled out of bed” in, and then she’s on to two more outfit changes. 

So this morning, when I woke, ready to welcome her joyful cheer, I was surprised to see none. I found her standing at the sink, my dad leaning against the counter like I had just interrupted a fight, maybe some disagreement they didn’t want me part of. My first thought was that they knew. They saw Harry leaving, or maybe my voice had carried, and they heard me arguing with him.

It was like being a teenager all over again as I walked toward the coffee maker to pour myself a cup. Without fail, the clink of the dish against the stone countertop ricochets through the thick silence in the room, making me jumpy; the slurp of the pour is interrupted when my mom speaks. “All I’m going to say is let’s get through this day. I don’t want to talk about it. We can call all touch base once everyone is gone—Bee, will you stay longer this time or not?” 

I’m in the midst of taking a sip, and the hot liquid hits my top lip, burning me as my eyes move from my dad to my mom in question, confused by whatever this is that I walked in on, “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay longer…I have a project—”

“Can you—?” she asks flatly like you better say “yes.” 

I look to my dad, who raises his brows, eyes widening, and he blows out a breath, his lip puffing as he brings his coffee to his mouth, “Fine.” I answer because it doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.

And that was it—She switched up her mood as quickly as the conversation ended. I stood there sipping my coffee, mentally preparing, and that’s how we carried on, pushing it under the rug.

It started with presents, each gift given its proper praise, mom all smiles, dad snapping pictures, my sister nudging my shoulder as a constant reminder to keep up the show, and it was perfect—it was— but every time the camera flashed. I could feel myself drifting to the thought of all the pictures that would greet me when I opened my phone—How her red lips and long dark hair would steal my breath, her beauty outshining us all. 

She became the jealous quake in my bones at the thought of Harry down on one knee, entrancing my thoughts, repeatedly threatening to pull me out of the moment—and now my mom is shouting from across the room, bidding for my attention, as I try and swallow the persistent lump burning a hole in my throat, making every word a battle of will to say the most straight-forward sentence—and it wasn’t fair; It wasn’t fair that I got to sit with it all day—a reel of memories cascading through my mind, always the slightest reminder to remind me of the past.

The smallest gestures, a deep-seeded pain strangling my insides; all my dad had to do was glance down at his watch. The watch Harry gave him when he turned forty or every time my mom tucked her behind her ear, I caught sight of the diamond earrings he got her and his mom, making them both laugh the last Christmas we all shared because that was our thing—it almost doesn’t seem real that our moms used to be best friends, nowadays it feels like a lifetime since they even shared one word, my mom growing bitter the day Harry broke my heart.

A sudden breakup can wreck anyone, and inherently, our families became the collateral damage, causing a complicated ripple through our families, a rigid divide that none of us knew how to address, let alone manage any semblance of a relationship; maybe that was our fault. I couldn’t be his friend. It hurt too much to try and mask my feelings, to manipulate them into something they weren’t, like right now—how I’m torturing myself, scrolling through social media, almost hoping I’ll see the pictures I know his mom will post. Perhaps it will be what I need; to rip the bandaid off, the right push I need to fucking move on because I don’t know how much longer I can live in the misery of what was and wasn’t.

Dissasoiating—the word of the day—a single word that could describe my whole day because somehow it’s dinner, and I’m sitting around the table trying to piece together the lapse in time I’ve lost. All it takes is one look at my mom to straighten up and be present. I don’t even know what they’re talking about, nor do I care, but when my cousin Jenny asks me to pass the potatoes, and the light captures the glint of her new engagement ring, my stomach drops, the hideous ache of jealousy climbing up my spine, and I’m sick again, my stomach turning at the thought, that maybe he’s already done it, maybe he’s asked her and she’s wearing his ring on her finger, and they’re sitting around the table; and every time she takes a bite it reflects the light from the chandler, everyone smiling because what a happy time, what a perfect day; what a bright fucking future they have.

This time, I can’t control it; it’s all too much, and I’m scraping the chair back, politely excusing myself, then bounding to the upstairs bathroom, yanking my phone from my pocket—and without a passing thought, I’m doing it—I’m calling Harry—by the first ring, I’m in panic mode, pacing back and forth, willing myself to end the call, trying to keep the phone from sliding down my sweaty palm.

I’m all adrenaline as I force the phone against my ear, the ring getting louder, and each time it rings, a gnarled knot of guilt builds in the depth of my belly. I keep looking to the toilet on the verge of falling to my knees and heaving anything that made its way to my stomach—then Harry forwards the fucking call to voicemail, and tears are spilling over my lids, my whole body hot, like maybe I’ll combust right here, explode with the fury of heat rising in my body.

I’m surprising myself when I press his name again, bringing the phone back to my ear, and I hold my breath, waiting for the first ring. It rings and then rings again, and by the third ring, I think I might get through—and it’s all a joke because yeah fucking right—By the fifth ring, I’m second-guessing myself again, shame eating away at my flesh, and then he’s forwarding the call again—my shame flying out the window.

Okay, yes, maybe this is the part where I tell you I should be embarrassed—but fuck it, I’m calling again, losing myself a little more each time he forwards my call. By the 8th call, I’m tormenting myself, a pitiful excuse of a human on the ground so caught up in my own grief that I don’t even hear my sister knocking on the door. The knock sounds, making my heart leap in my chest, the fear of being caught ripping through like an earth quack, and I’m up, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror, not even recognizing the person looking back at me. 

I haven’t felt this desperate since we broke up, like an anxious tick buzzing under my skin. The humiliation of it all is a time bomb, counting down the seconds until it ignites inside me—and I’m there. I ignore the steady stream of knocks and crouch down like the monster I’ve become because I can’t look at myself and do what I know I’m about to do—it’s my one last stance, and I shoot Harry a text:

“Your a fucking coward!” I send and then realize I used the wrong fucking “your,” and my pride won’t let me go out like this. I send a quick “you’re” to fix my mistake and watch the screen, knowing he is now more aware of his than before. When the line changes from “delivered” to “read,” I watch the tiny dots collect in the corner of the screen, awaiting his reply—they appear and disappear several times until it finally stops altogether, and he leaves me on read.

Just as I’m about to send “fuck you!” my sister opens the door, pushing the bobby pin she used to pick the lock back into her hair, and closes the door behind her. “Dude, whatever is going on right now—you need to get it together—it’s one fucking day, okay…that’s all mom asks for, and she’s down there growing impatient. So seriously…if you’re up here freaking out about another dude you met on a dating app—like this isn’t the time—”

“I had sex with Harry—” I confess right then and there because I know this will be the only thing that will make her understand.

“No—” she says, pulling a handful of toilet paper from the roll, “We’re not doing this right now…” She wipes the tears from my face and forces me out of the bathroom and into my room.

“You have two minutes to get your shit together. I need Mom to be in a good mood today…listen, I have big shit going on too, but you don’t see me up here crying—” and she’s right. I saw her pregnancy test in our shared bathroom trash. She must have been panicked when she half-assed her wrapping job on her test. I know I taught her better than that, but this was what I needed to pull myself back up.

I came down the stairs with a smile. Everyone in the sitting room was having coffee and dessert; this was the last stretch. This is all we had left, and then I can check my phone that my sister made me leave upstairs—and so I would drone on keeping up with conversations, tossing out witty remakes, bringing laughter and joy to everyone around, and when my mom sent me a genuine smile, I felt myself smiling back, enjoying the company of my family; and when dad slipped me the “good” eggnog I realized that there’s nothing better at taking the edge off then alcohol.

Four eggnogs in on an empty stomach, and I was working the room, exaggerating about my life and all the projects I’ve taken on at work, dodging questions about my dating life, and when my grandma brought up Harry four times, dammit, I didn’t even flinch, I just kept the conversation moving, filter out the emotions coursing through me like a breeze on a sunny day, right before a summer storm sets in. I even kept it cute and classy when cousin Jen took her engagement ring on a tour around the room, gutting me like a fish when she said, “I never thought I would get married before you…you know…like you and Harry were like “it” you know—” and I’m smiling again, getting a nod of approval from mom when she hears me congratulate Jen again, admiring her beautiful ring.

By eggnog five, I’m switching to “what he’s having,” I shout to my dad as I watched him pour, maybe whisky over the rocks, a shallow pour, but it packed a punch. I knew it was time to dial it back when I found myself leaning over Jenny, who was flipping between her social platforms, landing on Facebook, where I know for a fact Harry’s mom would be posting, taking care to tag everyone in each photo—which brings me back to the time when dear ole’ cousin Jenny started following Harry. It was Christmas break, we had just turned fifteen, and I could tell she had a crush on him. She spent all Christmas break following us around, cornering him anytime she could get him alone; I had to share my bed with her that Christmas, and I remember how miserable I was without the gift of Harry crawling through my window on Christmas Eve.

It’s wild to think of how feeble my grasp on time was when we were young, how a couple of weeks could feel like an eternity; it’s been less than a day since I saw him last. How am I supposed to go a lifetime of never hearing his voice again, to look into those green eyes that have seen me through so many changes, not to feel those hands that have cradled me like a child, held me like a lover, squeezing and pulling me into shapes that fit him; arms that carried and lifted me to heights that I could never have reached on my own—and maybe I speaking figuratively because no one has carried me at my worst or lifted me at my best until I was the best version of myself, but isn’t funny how the people that bring out our best know exactly how to rally the worst parts of us.

Mom taps her dessert spoon to her glass, grabbing everyone’s attention. It’s time for her big send-off speech. My eyes dart to my sister leaning against the fireplace, rolling her eyes, “I just want to start by saying I’m so thrilled that you’ve all chosen to spend this joyous holiday with us…you all know this is my absolute favorite holiday and every year I look forward to spending it with each and every one of you—” she tells us raising her glass, and everyone knows what’s coming next and as she starts her final lines— the same lines she uses every year—my sister sends me a wink mouthing the lines in unison with our mother.

“There’s no time like Christmas to let you know how appreciated you are. I feel honored to call you family…” and her hook, line, and sinker is, “May the light of Christmas warm your hearts this holiday season and remember love is the true spirit of Christmas—” 

My throat burns as she finishes, “And always know how much I love you and always will…so before I start getting too emotional, I better cut myself off—” she laughs, wiping a tear from her eye, and as much as I hate how crazy she gets about Christmas, she really is amazing at being so selfless; to give everyone such a beautiful day, and I’m so grateful for her and my family, and then the doorbell rings taken everyone by surprise. We all freeze, eyes moving around the room because we’re all here, and no one is expecting anyone.

“Fred—” my mom calls to my dad. “Are we expecting anyone else?” 

My dad’s reaction is slow, but he launches himself from the chair and excuses himself. When he comes back, he looks bewildered, half-tipsy as he shrugs his shoulder to tell us no one was there—and that was that. No one blinked an eye—yet my first thought was Harry, and I felt myself slipping because the whole day had passed; certainly, theirs was over by now, and the thought had me breaking my own heart, picturing her in his old bed, the whole family tucked away in their rooms, still riding out the high of such a magically joyful day.

And she’ll kiss his lip and say, “I love you.” He’ll lay her down in the bed I gave myself to him in, and he’ll make love to her like he loved me last night, and there is no end; there’s no end to the torture of it all because how can one person fuse themselves to every fiber of my being—and more importantly how could I still allow it?

As the last guest passed our threshold, Mom, being the gracious host she was, sent them off with candies and cookies, and I stood there wishing I was more like her, like my sister, who could always pretend, who knew how to wear “the smile” like a badge of honor. I wondered why this all had to be so hard. Why is love all or nothing? Why can’t we flip a switch and “poof,” it’s gone?

I watched my mom close the door, my siblings dispersing, and my dad already making his way back to his chair, but my mom just stood there. She let out a heavy sigh, her once perfect posture decompressing as she held on to the doorknob, “Oh Bee—” she said, eventually turning around to face me, and suddenly it looked like the weight of the day had finally caught up to her beautiful features, now tired—a mournful pinch between her brows, pursuing her lip while her eyes roamed my face. I’m trying my hardest to keep it together because there is something about that look a mom can give, that “I can fix everything with a hug” look.

“Do you need anything…I didn’t sleep very well last night. I was thinking of calling it early. if that’s okay?” I ask

“Oh honey, don’t worry about it…it’s been a long day for everyone,” she states, unbuttoning the first two buttons of her silk blouse, that mournful look still lacing her features.

“Let’s just deal with the clean up tomorrow…sound good, baby?” she tells me, slinging an arm around my shoulder, “I know today was hard for you…Thank you for being such a good sport. I’m so proud of the way you handled yourself. You did a beautiful job, sweetie.”  Her words catch me off guard, and I turn to face her, my throat burning at the thought that she knows everything.

I swallow hard, opening my mouth to let out the words building up, but I can only manage a small whimper. “Listen, honey,” Mom starts, and I’m already a puddle in her arms, wanting my mommy to make it all better.

“I’m not going to lie and say it gets better, but one day, it’s not going to hurt as bad as it hurts right now, and eventually, when you find someone new—” 

I gasped out a sob then, her words hitting every sore spot on my body, “Shhh—Shh—I know baby, I know—but listen,” She said, cradling my face in her hands, “I know that this isn’t what you want to hear—”

“But one day you will find someone new, and they’ll be just enough to get you over that last slump of pain, and maybe if you’re lucky enough…which I know you are…Harry will become a pleasant memory of the past, baby, because both of you were so lucky to have what you had. Not everyone will get to say they had a love like the two of you shared, and that is so so special, honey, so special—”

The tears are rolling down my cheeks faster than my mom can swipe them away, and it’s taking every ounce of strength I have to keep myself upright, “I love him so much—” I push past the sob, shuttering through me.

“I know, honey, I know—one of the hardest lessons we can learn is to let the people we love go, let them go so they can be free, and if it’s meant to be, they’ll come back—”

“I can’t, Mom, I can’t do it,” I cry, trying to bury my face into her shoulder, but she has a firm grip on it. Blair Marie, you are so strong, honey, and we are all here for you. You can do this, okay?” she says, nodding her head up and down.

“Okay?” She asks again, and I nod in agreement, “Listen—between you and me, we’re going to have our hands full anyway, right? Don’t think I don’t know about your sister—she’s next.”

I’m stunned into silence. “Yeah, I know. That’s how I felt at first. Honey, I love you. I am here for you. Now go get some rest…” she says, pushing me toward the stairs.

“Oh—and hopefully, we aren’t expecting any unexpected guests this evening….”

I shake my head, “I—” 

“Yeah, slamming your window at the crack of dawn is a dead give away—”

Somehow, she manages to get a smile out of me, and I roll my eyes, ready to make my way up the stairs, “Hey, Mom, thank you for making today so beautiful…it really was beautiful.” I tell her.

“Oh—! And Mom, thank you for those kind words. I love you.” she smiles, placing a hand over her heart, and we share a look of knowing—and without a doubt, that woman managed to lift my spirits—again. She’s too good at that; she is father fucking Christmas.

And while my heart still felt heavy, I felt like I could get through this night. I would march into my room, head straight for my phone, and turn it off; there would be no doomsday scrolling. I would take a shower, hell maybe even take a hot bath to rid myself of this day—Maybe I would even start packing away everything in my childhood room that reminded me of him, set myself up for the next year, and seriously, it was amazing how quickly the motivation surged up my chest; almost bursting at the seams with the very thought of it.

So by the time I turned my knob, I was ready, so fucking ready—But as the door clicked open, a cold chill grazed over my wrist. All I saw was my curtains billowing back and forth with the breeze flowing in and out of my window, and I rushed over to shut the damn window because I didn’t remember opening it, but maybe my sister opened it while I was fixing my make up earlier and that’s when I hear it:

“Bee—” 

I slam the window shut, panic rushing through me, every limb of my body shaking with it as I turn toward the sound. And there he is, the love of my life, sitting on the edge of my bed, hunched over with his face buried in his hands, and when he looks up. I can tell he’s been crying, and he pulls a small box from his pocket and places it on the nightstand, right next to the very same box that held his future, and all he says is, “I couldn’t do it—”

[bachibabe]

— Heaven

synopsis: choso never expected spring break to be so difficult, honestly. just a few weeks to relax with his brother and his brothers girlfriend… it sounds like the dream doesn’t it? seeing his brother happy, so in love with you. but heaven for one is hell for another-- and it seems to be your very life goal to make him live with both.

✧*̣̩┊: choso x fem! reader (some itadori x fem! reader)

✧*̣̩┊: wc: 7.0k

✧*̣̩┊: content: dubious consent at times, cnc + full consent at others, switch! reader,switch!choso, dom!reader, sub!choso, nipple play, voyeurism (choso listens to itadori and reader have sex), m!masturbation, pervert choso, massages, blowjob, p in v, overstimulation, multiple creampies, choso is kinda gross, cheating!reader (as far as choso knows), choso is refered to as puppy/cocktoy, degredation (choso receiving), choso degrading himself too, please lmk if I missed any!

✧*̣̩┊: notes: it’s lily! back again with another perverted jjk man! this turned out way longer than i originally thought it was going to be. originally it was just going to end with the masturbation scene buuutttt i got a little carried away :DD i love how this fic came out and i hope you guys do too <33

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

God, he wants to die. He deserves to. Choso has no right to live after the way he’s been looking at his brother’spretty little girlfriend. He deserves to be jailed for life, eyes gouged out for even considering sending a glance to your ass; bent over grabbing something from a cabinet in the kitchen. Leggings that are too tight, practically transparent. He swears he can see the tinge of your pink panties through them.

He should die. He places his face in his hands, arms propped up as his legs. One of them bouncing in, fuck, he doesn’t know what. Really doesn't know what. He doesn’t think he wants to, honestly. God how did it end up like this? How did he end up here– Itadori perched up on the counter, while you start to work on breakfast. How is he going to make it out alive? How is he going to survive spring break?

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. When Itadori, his dear, beloved brother called, asking if it was fine to bring his girlfriend home for break, Choso thought nothing of it. Even if he hadn’t met you, Itadori told him plenty. Every conversation he had with his sibling always found itself filled with fond stories of you. The nice date you went on, the delicious food you cooked for him. How horribly you destroyed the poor guy in mario kart. He thought he already knew you— it felt like he did at least.

He could tell the moment you walked into their family home that he didn’t. He had no clue the woman you were. A problem he would never be able to rectify. How terrifying that was for poor Choso. Can you imagine? Your little sweater crop top, unzipped low to put your perfect, pretty breasts on display. Your jeans, fitting just so right around your hips, practically putting your ass centre stage for the world to witness.

He hits his forehead with his hands a few times, trying to get rid of the image of your lips. They were in a pout, gloss on them as your jut out your bottom lip. You kissed his cheeks. Held both of your tiny hands around one of his large ones. 

“Thank you for letting me stay Choso, you’re the best big brother to Itadori ever!” Your voice rang so pretty, shiny, new in his ear drums. A sound he had never heard before invading his senses for the first time. He simply nodded his head, hugging his brother after you took a step back. Introductions were fast, Itadori dragging you off to give you a tour of their family home. It was probably to his benefit, to get you away like that. He didn’t know how long he could hold back the colour rising to his cheeks.

You were beautiful, gorgeous, even. Any adjective in the world to describe your beauty, he would use it. But that would never be enough to make a man like him crack. One with morals, one with some shred of pride. While the interaction left him slightly flustered, he quickly brushed it off of his shoulder. It shouldn’t matter anyway. 

Only it does when you’ve positioned yourself between his legs, tongue between your lip as you put your all into the game of mario kart against the two men. 

“I can’t see the tv from up here!” Your peach voice whined after your second loss in a row. “I’m more comfortable on the floor anyway.” You tell them, a slight pout on your lips. 

“You’re such a sore loser!” Itadori laughs, teasing as you slide yourself onto the floor. Right in front of Choso’s place on the couch. He looks down, eyes increasing in size only a fraction as your frame is incased by either side of his legs. His eyebrows raise, legs shifting farther apart as to not touch you. He wants to be respectful, afterall. 

“Uhg! As if!” You shoot back, a small glare landing on Itadori. Though Choso can tell none of it is serious. Suddenly, before he can think about the action any further, you turn to him. Delicate hand placed on his knee, nails digging into the flesh ever so slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t notice it. But of course Choso does. Of course he had to. Because he's a disgusting pervert who blushes from the touch of a woman. Well, not any woman. Just you.

“You don’t mind, right Choso?” Your voice is practically a purr, eyes filled with nothing but the glow of innocence, “Here’s the only spot that’s comfortable.” God, he swears he sees your tongue flick over your bottom lip, wetting the surface. But he forces himself to shred that to pieces. A trick of the eye. 

He nods his head, “Guests comfort.” He swears, your smile might blind a man. You threw your arm up, a small victory, your body turning back around. 

“‘Sides, Yuuji’s gonna start kicking me when I win anyway. He’s such a baby!” You stick out your tongue in mock disgust, Choso’s face moving into a light smile. 

“Am not!” Itadori argues back, throwing a pilling in your direction. Choso’s smile only grows, catching the pillow right before it lands on your face. Your voice squeals in delight, making a quick, mocking joke back in the direction of Yuuji. 

“He is. A baby in every way. You know when we were younger he used to sing this song–” This time, instead of a pillow, Yuuji throws his body, pinning Choso to the couch. A hand clamped over Choso’s mouth. You break out into something that sounds like music– oh. It’s just your laugh. Choso can’t help himself laughing either. 

Itadori starts laughing as you begin to beg, to do the same song that he had done when he was younger. Eventually he gives in, turning the night into somewhat of a good memory. Even if you remained planted, not daring to move from him even after a movie was put on. Falling asleep, head propped against his leg.

Yuuji carried you to bed that night, Choso retiring not long after.

If Choso was any slower, he would have completely missed the way you looked at his arm. The way your eyes trained to the muscle of it. The way your eyes would sharpen ever so slightly, your teeth almost biting your lip whenever you even gleaned at his calves or thighs. 

If it was just that, he could handle it. Even if he is a man, he’s not primal. He has self control. Even if he found you attractive, that means nothing. Probably. You’re his brothers’. It would be pathetic for him to fall over something so simple. 

Only it wasn’t so simple. It never could be. 

He quickly learned how dangerous you could be when it was just him home. How little you cared for the intricacies of being coy when no one was watching. 

“God your tits are so big~” Your voice feels like a moan in his ear. Your hands wrapped around him from behind, squeezing his pecks. Nails digging into him, so much so that it almost hurt. “It’s no fair…” 

His face is flush, his posture stiff. Stunned into an unmoving demeanour from just how… direct you’re being. That is the best word he can think of for it. At least it is right now when his head is all scrambled at the feeling of your perfect chest pressing into the firm muscles of his back. Your breath right in his ear with every short exhale. 

When he came home from work, tired and useless, the proposition was innocent enough: ‘Ah Choso~ You look so tense from work! That’s no good, you know? Oh! Lemme just give you a little massage yeah? Help you relax right up!’ That look on your face, so docile and cute, didn’t help any retorts he had under his belt. Not to mention, any persistence he thought Yuuji had was far surpassed by you. Begging to give poor, old Choso a massage. Fix his creaky joins and stiff bones.

Maybe it was the wear he had received from an all-too-hard day at the office, or maybe it had been a lapse in judgement from the cloud that seemed to cover him. However the decision came to be, he thought it might be good. A nice chance to finally relax a little.

He had been needing a massage lately, anyway, the certificate Yuuji had bought him rotting away in his closet from his last birthday. Yet, he just didn’t have it in him to actually book the appointment, no matter how desperately he wanted to feel the muscles in his body unwind. Honestly a little nervous to have a stranger's hands on him.

But you aren’t a stranger. You’ve become friends. 

So, when you urge his shirt off, saying that you don’t want it to get all sticky with lotion, he doesn’t fight back. Letting you slight the slightly scratchy material of his dress shirt over his head. He lets your pretty hands work out the hair ties in his locks, allowing the neglected black hair fall over his shoulders. He needs a haircut, he knows it in the way his hair falls a little lower than it ever had before. Plans, yeah. He has lots of things he needs to do. Dinner, cleaning, making sure the report comes in on time. God he doesn't need another lecture from–

“Fuck-” His is sudden, low as you press into one of the knots permeating his back. He hadn’t even expected it to come out. He doesn’t think you did either, based on the little squeal that leaves your throat.

“Did that feel good?” You ask simply, continuing to rub circles deep into his shoulder blades. Your tone light, happy. Probably from helping someone relax, yeah, that's probably it. “I’ve taken a few classes, I was thinking about becoming a masseuse awhile ago.” He knows your glossy lips are smiling.

A breathy exhale leaves his lips, your thumbs digging into another sensitive tangle. “Oh really?” He’s not focusing much anymore. There must be some kind of drug laced in your touch. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You giggle, hands cresting over the tops of his shoulder, gently rubbing his neck. “Mhmm, I’m real good I think.” 

If he responds, he has no clue what he says. Good is an understatement. Your hands must be god's gift to man. That can be the only explanation. No other human could be capable of this, he doesn’t think. Allowing one’s mind to turn into mush with just simple touches of fingers along their back. It shouldn’t be allowed, legal.

He doesn’t know how much time passes as he sits there, letting you work through his back until it's tender. Needing love and affection when it was just broken and reformed by your hands alone. Your nails gently scratch the skin. He’s forgotten who you are, what you are. You are euphoria across his skin. A feeling swelling in his abdomen as he sinks into total relaxation. 

Well, that is at least until suddenly your hands are on his pecks, your voice cooing in his ear as you fondle him like a porno. The innocent delight in granting someone relief has vanished from you, someone else taking your place. His eyes wide open, heart rate as high as the ceiling in a matter of seconds. 

“See and if you just sit like this–” Your left hand moves to his lower back, forcing it to curve just so, “They look even bigger. Have you ever thought about getting them pierced? Then we could be matching~” His brain can’t wrap around your words, nevertheless what they imply. His head has gone a bit fuzzy, finding trouble keeping up in the shift from cloud nine to being in one of the circles of hell. 

Your voice sounds so sweet, yet your body behaves as a different animal.

Your fingertips flick over the nipple, “It doesn’t hurt too bad I swear… and you’d look real pretty with them too.” Your other hand leaves his back, slowly sliding around his hip. Your fingers dance along the contours of his body, finally resting just along his v-line. Thumb gently running itself across the ridge. Not daring to go any lower. Not yet, anyway. 

If he had anything to say, the words are lost in his throat. How could a delicate touch be so sinful? He has no idea. He can’t find himself moving his head, moving away at all really. Stuck in a state of indecision. Hoping the little balls he feels pressing into his back may or may not be the piercings you speak of so fondly covered by one of your too thin tank tops. He isn’t sure which. His brain is blurry, but his body is responding. His pants are beginning to feel stiff. 

“I can show you if you want~” You purr, your voice somehow closer, etching even deeper into his ear. Lodging itself in his brain in a way that he can't ignore. His body grows tense pulling away ever so slightly when your hands suddenly retract entirely. Finding purchase back on his back as if they were never there to begin with.

“Kidding!!” You giggle, patting his back as your too-sweet nature returns like nothing. Once again leaving him a little more confused than he would like to be. “Don’t be silly Choso, I was only playing. Don’t get your panties all up in a twist!” 

And that was the end of it, at least until Yuuji got home. Until he could retire to the privacy of a shower to manage a little issue. One that didn’t seem to want to resolve itself. One that meant his panties stayed in a twist.

Dinner was had like nothing happened. And it didn’t. Because it was all a joke right? So he shouldn’t dwell. Not when Yuuji smiles at you like that. Not when you two seem perfect for each other. 

His feelings on the issue shouldnt matter. And therefore, they don’t. As long as Itadori is happy, as long as he can keep that smile on his little brother's face, nothing else in the world is of importance to him. 

No matter how much he has to endure. However many times he has to apply sunscreen on your bare back, bikini top untied so as to not miss a spot. However many times he feels your ass pressed against him as you slide in front of him in the kitchen. However many times you fall asleep, clinging to his arm on the couch. Breasts pressed against him just so. However many times he has to ignore your subtle, almost streamlined touches. However many times he has to ‘take care of business’ in the privacy of his own room, triggered from nothing more than watching the way you speak. Watching the way your lips move in their pristine little pout. However many times he has to ignore that feeling bubble up in the pits of his gut. 

Choso is a man with patience. The ability to hold himself back.. He is able to be a pillar of fortitude where most would crumble under the pressure. Women aren’t an issue when it comes to him. He can be sweet, the type of man to look at the ceiling when walking up stairs, the type to walk closest to the road. The one that stays sober at company parties to make sure he can keep his co-workers drinks safe. But this is too much– you are too much. Last night was too much. The very cause for his mental breakdown today. 

He’s a disgusting man. One that has crumbled into a pile of rubble for the woman brought onto his doorstep. One that has dragged him deep down to a place he may never find himself recovering from. He’s a freak, awful, pervert. The worst man alive, if he had to guess.

But your moans are a siren’s call. One he was unable to lure himself away from. One he could no longer battle against. 

When he heard the first pitch from his desk, he ignored it. His imagination had to be the culprit. The second, third, however, no. Those had to be real. Right? His doubts were still clear. Yet, as if his body was acting on its own, he found himself befalling in a way that had long been forgotten in his past. A pervy college freshman, planting his knees on his bed, ear pressed deep into the wall. 

He knew that the moment he did it. He couldn't pull himself away. Even though a voice was screaming at him to stop. To go back to his desk and place his headphones firmly in his ears. To stop listening to your beautiful sounds, those that were filled with pleasure. To move away from the wall as the bed on the other side rocked against it. To stop imagining the skin slapping against your own was his. 

He was too far gone. Too far deluded as his hand found his cock, not bothering to pull down his sweatpants. He still had some class, some grace, he liked to think. He wasn’t completely abhorrent. Even as he ran his thumb over the head, feeling the pre-cum. Sliding it around messily as he tried to find some purchase on sanity. 

His hands were too shaky, from nerves or excitement he could not tell. Maybe he didn’t want to. That would be for the best wouldn’t it? His thumb, shakily, almost impatiently teasing him under the guise of starlight. What would you think if you saw him now? Palming his cock while his thumb ran over the almost red head. Trying desperately to conceal any shred of dignity the poor man had left. To try and go back to before his shaky fingers reached below the hem of his sweats. 

As the thrusts from the other room quickened, your pants and moans quickly quelled any lucid thoughts he may have had left. His hand reacting to the sounds, palm finding the base easily. The groan he let out was a mistake, but fear no longer exists. Not in this world. Not with the direction of his hand, the speed of it as it moves from base to tip. Quickly. Tightly. Almost painfully. He was too worked up, too frustrated from everything you had given him before. Almost, yet never enough. This was the last straw. The last piece of clarity he had before he completely fell to ruin. Imagining himself in his brother's place. Imagining how you must feel. 

He’s a complete sicko. But in the moment, he doesn't care. His arm comes up, resting against the wall. His forehead does the same. His nose scrunches, eyes shut tightly as he tries to picture it. Picture you in his bed, your legs wrapped around his hips. Right above his ass. Ankles trying to cross behind him. Yeah, you would be really pretty there, wouldn’t you? 

If your hands were god’s gift, your pussy had to be heaven. He knows it, right? Cause you're his in this little world. His fingers would slide up your lips, spreading you just enough so he could admire you. See how pretty you would look all puffy from his tongue alone. Fuck– his hips jerk in his hand. He won’t last. 

How could he when you’re under him? Right, cause you’re under him. Letting him fuck you. Every gorgeous moan of his brother's name is his own. Just like you said in his ear that night. 

‘Choso, Choso, Choso~’

Does Yuuji eat you out? Fuck your cunt with his fingers first to make sure you’re ready to take him? No, No! Don’t think about him. Bad Choso, don’t be mean to your brother. Don’t think. This isn’t about him. This is about the new reality, the pretty one where you’re a mess, all sweaty and tangled in his sheets. 

Holy fuck. Your voice is suddenly wild, an orchestra he wishes to listen to every night, and his illusions return to him. His hand moving faster, somehow gripping his cock even tighter. This time, however, you’re in control. Pinning him to the bed, his cock buried deep in your pretty, wet hole. You’re not moving, you refuse to. Grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles to bring him to the precipice, yet not allowing him to fall over the edge. To see the light of day yet never experience it, locked in a battle of wills. Who will fall first, who will beg. Who will be so desperate for release that they can’t do anything else but turn into a messy puddle.

It will be him, you both know it. At least in his head, you do.  

Your voice cracks, and so does his. A groan he barely muffles with his hand is all he allows himself to manage as he hears you fall over the edge into climax. He does the same, imagining he’s buried deep inside, filling you with his cum. You didn’t let him wear a condom, you never would. 

Thick ropes of white cover his hand as he calms down, rejoining the rest of the world. Panting, teeth marks imprinted into his hand from the force of his jaw. 

He’s been spiralling since then. Afraid he’s gone insane, truly. Maybe he should check himself into a psych ward, yes. That would be for the best. Someone like him shouldn’t be allowed on the streets. A pervert like him that gets off on the idea of fucking his little brothers girlfriend shouldn’t be allowed at all. He’s a sick fucking freak. 

You have to know it, don't know? That’s why you’ve been looking at him differently today? Like there’s a little spark that just has to mean that you know, right? Or is he really going crazy? Imagining that too? He doesn’t know anymore. He doesn’t know much at all. The only reality he knows is the chair he’s sitting in, planting his seat in it since the morning. He hasn’t moved since then– his chin resting in his hands, his knees against his elbows as he stares at nothing in a random corner. Thinking about everything, nothing. 

How could he possibly face you? 

The answer to that question has drawn nothing but blanks in his head. Yet it is answered for him that very afternoon. How lucky he is, huh? His brother waving ‘bye’ to hang out with some of his highschool friends. You felt “sick”, claiming an upset tummy so you didn't want to go. Despite his subtle protests that you should tag along with them anyway, he finds himself alone in a house with the object of both his desires and his downfall into depravity.

Luckiest man alive. Yeah. They should say that at his funeral. But he isn’t going to die, not anytime soon at least. 

He knows that well, not moving from his eyes from their spot in the corner. He can’t now, even if he wanted to. Not with you right in front of him– two, maybe three feet at most from his legs. Pearly yoga mat neatly laid across the floor; water bottle, phone, and towel placed neatly beside on standby. Leggings, too tight leggings stretched across your perfect skin. Tits held in place with a matching sports bra. Following along to the workout video. Pretty, alone in your head. 

In downward dog, ass facing him. Mocking him, scandalising the mere thought of looking away from the corner. If he could see all of that from his peripherals alone, there's no telling what he could see– what he wants to see, from straight on. So there he sits, in his corner. Wishing he could be alone in his own. Wishing you didn’t occupy every crevice of his brain matter. Wishing he was a better man. 

His focus has to be made of stone, face scrunched in that annoyed little manner. Lip up in a little tick. If he was staring any harder, a hole would have bored itself into the drywall. If his attention was any less he would’ve noticed you moving closer, sliding backwards on your hands and knees. Pressing your ass against the erection he had been dead set on ignoring. 

A groan resonates through his throat at the contact. Sudden, unavoidable. Here, now. The supple flesh of your ass against him, teasing him. Taunting him in some way he can’t ignore. His eyes shifting quickly to his lap, looking at you in all of your glory. His hands gripping the arms of the chairs, nails embedding themselves in the cushioned material. The place they will find refuge, home for the next few hours. 

His face finally meets yours, eyes connecting as you look at him from over your shoulder. His brows crease, an ounce of confusion overtaking him. You look annoyed… frustrated. Your eyebrows pinched together, venom in your gaze. Fuck. He must’ve messed up. Did he move closer? Did he accidentally pull you towards him when he wasn’t paying attention? Oh fuck, fucking shit. 

Just as the apology starts to leave his lips you huff. Spinning on your knees, moving right between his legs. Looking up at him from his lap. 

“I don’t fucking get you, Choso.” You say, the hiss of a snake practically wrapped around your vocal cords. What are you talking about? What could you possibly mean? He’s the pervert. He’s the one that needs to be jailed for his crimes– not you. You’re the angel. The one who’s brought so much joy to his little brother. 

Before he can respond, before the words even think about leaving the tip of his tongue your hands are on his thighs. Moving upwards, finding purchase on the hem of his sweatpants. Directing him upwards. Pulling his sweats– the same pair as last night, down over his knees. 

“Like, seriously!” Your voice trills in a whine, annoyed. Once again, he can’t move. Can’t find himself wanting to. He wants to experience this, to experience you firsthand. A better man would move, a better man wouldn’t let their most base desires control him. But he is no better than an ant now, following in your lead. 

“Uhg, I do so much work–” Your hand has found its way inside of his boxers now. He wishes he changed them after last night, but it’s too late for wishing now, isn’t it? “And you don’t even make a move?! Like you’re kidding me, right?” 

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know a word that’s leaving your lips. If he thought he did, its vanished by the feeling of your smooth, gentle hands wrapped around his cock. Flicking over it almost painfully, like you want to hurt him. Just a little. Just to get back at him for all the turmoil he’s apparently put you through. 

He’s panting now, breath coming out in short bursts through his nose as he watches your hand. Feels it actually touch his skin. Anything he could have imagined was negligible compared to this. Something that couldn’t be reached by anyone else. No one other than you. 

“I play with you so nice too! I treat you like a good toy!” You whine, seeming to get more and more irritated by the second. More and more irritated that he isn’t responding to your words. His cock jumps, more and more precum collecting at the tip. That seems to make you happy, a cute little hum leaving your lips.

 “You want me. Don’t you Choso?” Your eyes are round, looking up at him almost like a puppy dog. No one could turn you away. No one would ever want to when you look at them like that. A curt nod is all he can manage. All he can force out of his body to do with your hand rubbing his cock in a way that should be illegal. Anything more and he would look like a babbling idiot, he’s sure of it. 

You must have some sympathy, some compassion for the man as you let him go. Pull your hands from his boxers. So down on his luck, the most beautiful girl in the world between his legs. A small smile aids itself to your lips as you speak. 

“Let's get these off of you, yeah?” You hum, fingers gently playing with the ridge of his boxers. He doesn’t fight you, doesn’t retreat as you pull them down. “Aww poor thing, you liked the show a little too much last night, huh? Just a mess, huh? You giggle, mocking the state of his undergarments. The places he just couldn’t get clean enough with a towel. God, he really is gross. 

He’s once again wrapped up in himself. In his own thoughts, thinking of trying to get out of your mocking tone. How to save face in front of what he deems perfection. So much so that he entirely misses the way your eyes widen at his size. Whatever you dreamed of, it could not have been this. It’s too big, too big for most anyone to handle. Longer than your hand, thicker than your fingers could wrap around. Pretty veins running along the left side. 

It could destroy you. But it won’t.

“It’s not like that–” His voice is cut off once again with your tongue. A thick strip painting from base to tip. Tasting his salty skin.

Fuck, he falls back into the chair. Trying to find some facet to cling to so he doesn’t black out into utter hysteria. His fantasies never even touched your mouth. Thought of how it might move across his skin. No, he wouldn’t dare. Yet now that he is living it, experiencing it he knows that it wasn’t meant for him to. The mere knowledge that your lips might wrap around the head of his cock sends him teetering over an edge that shouldn’t exist. 

His hips buck upwards, trying to get a small piece of anything you’re willing to spare. “Ah ah, we can’t get ahead of ourselves, yeah? I deserve this, you know? All for me~” He doesn’t know how a voice as pure as yours can touch him like this. Gripping his cock at its base, squeezing it just enough that it hurts, yet not too much so that it’s uncomfortable. One stroke, two is all you give him. Your wrist flicking over the pretty head, spreading his precum all along his length as lubricant. 

He does all he can to stifle his groans; pretend he isn’t completely falling apart. But your lips lick the head, smiling at the taste. Moving to just take the head inside of your mouth. Slowly moving your head up and down. Watching him, perceiving him. Observing the twitches of his mouth, the brace of his hands, the plant of his feet on the floor. The way his hips beg to move, to piston upwards to fuck your throat dry. Awww~ but it doesn’t look like he can even do that.

His eyes are glossy. Face red up to his ears.You gag, taking in just a little bit more than you were meant too. A smile twitching to your mouth as you finally hear it, the thing you thought you heard last night. Ah, his voice! Who would have thought, truly, that a man could turn into this? 

You did, of course. And ever since first laying eyes on his pale face, his tired eyes, you knew you wanted to do it to him over, and over, and over again. Good thing Yuuji said you could, huh? Even if it took a little begging. 

A choked cry leaves his throat as you pull away. His hips arching, bucking up to try and find relief once again inside of your mouth. He’s desperate, brought back down to his base instincts as a man. A short whisper of a word leaves his throat as you stand, thinking you’re leaving him. Leaving him with nothing but a sore cock once again.

“You’re gonna fill me up good, right puppy?” But you’re not leaving him. You’re pulling off your leggings, panties following suit. You’re crawling onto his lap. Knees balanced against the arm rests as you position your tight, practically dripping hole above his cock. God, you look so needy. Probably are so needy, just wanting him. Only wanting the satisfaction he can provide. 

God, your fingers. They’re spreading your lips so he can see. See just what he’s done from sitting there and taking it like a good boy. He was right. Your body was constructed by the heavens above. Perfect in all its glory. A finger running between your folds, collecting yourself on your fingers. 

“Will it fit?” He asks, though it almost comes out as a plea. Desperate to feel you, to have you wrapped around him. “Let me~” You shush him, fingers sliding into his mouth. Letting him taste you. Taste what he is missing out on.

“Mmm mmm.” You mutter simply, though he’s too distracted. Too distracted until you lower yourself onto him; just enough so the head inside. Just enough so that you can at least try to adjust to the intrusion that he brings. His head is a messy fog. Hips gently rocking, trying to gain some relief while not pushing your poor, under prepared hole.

Your hands on his abdomen as you slowly begin to slide up and down, taking in a little more and more with each motion. Filling you up completely, painfully. Heavenly. His hands find your hips. Soothing the burn, rubbing gentle circles into whatever flesh he can find. Thanking you for not pushing him away. 

“Shit–” The cuss strings past your lips as your hips meet his, a loud groan leaving his own. The light of the living room proving evidence of your sin. 

His eyes look down, finding where your bodies meet, “Fuck me…” He groans, his always tired eyes looking more alert, more at attention than they ever have before. Watching as you rock your hips slowly, deliberately. You only watch him. A sheen of sweat already covering both of your bodies. 

His thumb slides down, finding purchase on your clit. He groans at the sight, rubbing circles into the soft bundle of nerves. He’s not going to last. He knows it. He’s going to completely blow his load before your first bounce on his cock. Fuck, he can’t take it. He knows he won’t be able to with the way you squeeze around him. The way your walls flutter so tight over his length.

God he should have taken his time, urged you to let him eat you out or something so he could have had the chance to calm down. To relax for a moment before his cock was nestled deep inside. Fuck. 

And now you’re moving. The pain subsided, turning into nothing but pleasure. And god he must be leaving holes in the fucking chair, his hands returning to their places on the arm rest. He makes the mistake of looking, watching his cock glide inside your pussy effortlessly. Watching as you make a mess all over his lap. Watching as he makes a mess all over you. 

God and it’s over for him, his head thrown back against the chair. His hips jerking wildly into your wet heat as he fucks his cum deep into your walls. Watch as the room goes white, euphoria filling his senses. 

Shame is all he feels as he drops back against the chair. He’s disappointed you, he knows he has. There is no other explanation. You didn’t get off at all and he's received, well, everything. Apologies tumble from his mouth, over and over again they are spoken. Yet, when he finds your eyes already staring back down at him, there's something off. A fire inside of them, one that refuses to be quelled. 

Your hips don’t stop moving, don't stop the ease of grinding against him. Sliding almost all the way out, just until he can see the start of the head before landing all the way back down. You’re not stopping, and his cock isn’t getting soft.

“Awwww!” You giggle, hands pressing against his pecks, leaning close to his face so he can hear you nice and clear. Hear the smile, the mockery in your tone. “You just couldn’t hold it in huh? What a cute, pathetic little thing!” 

His cock is growing sore, it’s hurting. It’s too sensitive. He can’t take it. He doesn’t want to.

“Don’t worry, yeah? I’m still gonna cum so don’t feel bad, hmm? Just be a good little cock toy.” 

Or does it hurt? Does it feel good? His head arches back, conflicting feelings of both pain and pleasure overtaking his senses. He tries to focus on one or the other, anything really, but he can’t. He can’t do anything but sit there and be good just for you. He knows he wants to do that. It’s the least he can do, right? For being just a wretched, pathetic man. 

Too bad it's so hard to pull away. But you’re addicting, and he can’t help but try to find his fix. No matter how much it hurts, he can’t help but find sparks in the way you move. Your hips moving rapidly, fucking yourself onto his cock without a care for how he might be feeling. How good he must be feeling dancing along the fine line between pain and pleasure, not daring to stick a toe into either side of the tides for fear of not returning. 

Not a care for how you grab his hand, press his thumb against your clit and rub circles until he gets the hint, gaining enough clarity to do it on his own. Your voice is all he can hear through his rough pants, air catching in his throat forming a groan every time you move. Every time you test him, urge him to stop if he can’t take it.

But he will take it. He’ll feed himself to you on a silver platter, apple tied in his mouth if you wanted him to. He takes all of it. Basks in the glow of your pussy finding pleasure in his cock. And once again he can feel the bubble in the pit of his stomach growing, telling him once again that he’s close. So terribly close he doesn’t know how much more he can take. 

So he focuses on your voice– tries to at least. As much as he can while his head is spinning. Filled with clouds and spinning like a cyclone. The beautiful melodic voice he heard when you first arrived. The pristine laugh you let out on the first night. The whines you’d release when he’d rub sunblock into his back, and now the same voice he heard the night before. Chanting his name, whispering it close in his ear. Only this time it’s real. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your moans filling his ear drums. 

His name falling from your lips as you moan about how close you are. About how good he feels. 

Your hips moving faster, harsher against his own than ever before. His thumb pressing against your clit, urging you to your release as he hangs on the precipice of his own. Cock twitching with every menstruation, walls fluttering against him until finally, your hips fall against his own. Your voice letting out a moan, his own doing the same as he releases thick streams of white into your walls for the second time that night. 

You tighten around him, almost unbearably so with how sensitive, how much of a mess the poor man’s cock is. Your hips grinding gently, coaxing the both of you through your orgasms until bodies fall against one another. The waves of pleasure soothing into a gentle tide, neither of you moving to remove yourselves from the other. 

Your head rests against his shoulder, his hand coming up to hold the back of your neck gently. To keep you there, to bask in the moment before the timer comes to an end and he realises what he has done. What the both of you have done. He should panic. He should. But all of the energy is sucked dry from his body. He can’t move, he doesn’t want to. Not when his cock is still tucked deep inside of you. When he can still feel you. 

After the glow has faded and only sweaty bodies are left in the room you get up, though he isn’t entirely sure when. His eyelids heavy, falling down no matter how hard he tries to keep them awake. 

When he wakes up, nothing is amiss. His pants are up, his hair is combed. You and Yuuji are sitting happily on the couch watching a movie. Was it all a dream? No, no it couldn’t have been. That doesn’t make sense. He knows it was real. He knows it. 

“Morning.” Itadori smiles, noticing his big brother awake. Looking around the room in utter shock and confusion. His eyes slowly drift to the both of you, Yuuji’s arm tucked around your shoulders like nothing. 

The knowing smile you give him is all the evidence he needs that it was real. 

“We didn’t wake you up, right?” You ask innocently, head tilting to the side. He shakes his head, still in a bit of shock.  “Good, good…” you sing song, turning your attention back to the tv with ease. 

“Did you wanna tell him the good news or should I?” Yuuji asks, looking over to you with that confident smile he always has on his face. The smile Choso loves. The one he wants to protect and keep safe as his big brother. 

“Me! Me!” You say excitedly, almost bouncing in your seat. “Yuuji invited me to stay over the summer too! Isn’t that amazing?!”

Choso is going to die. For real this time.

[neo-nomatrix]

Give you the world

Joel Miller x reader

summary: You love Joel more than you can explain, you just can’t figure out if he feels the same

warnings: age gap, angst ig

my last joel fic

a/n: could be read as a part two of my last Joel fic but it can be read as a stand alone

You haven’t seen Joel truly happy in a while, the closest it’s come to is now. You’re standing with Ellie when Joel runs up to his brother, Tommy, who you’ve heard little about. You swear you hear him sniffling as he walks back to you.

The gates of Jackson are unbelievable. It’s somehow so incredibly warm despite the thick layer of snow below your feet. Everyone is beyond inviting and kind, it reminds you of before the outbreak.

“It’s amazing here,” you tell Tommy and Maria as you, Joel, and Ellie eat the plates of food in front of you.

“I’m glad you all like it,” Maria responds, smiling,

“It’s safe here,” Joel mumbles while leaning over his plate.

You can tell he’s thinking about something, whether it’s a good thing or not, you don’t know.

-

Maria leads you and Ellie to your home for the next day? week? month? You’re still not sure how long you’ll spend here. You secretly hope it’s a long time but you can tell it won’t last.

Since you’ve arrived you haven’t seen Joel in at least three hours.

“Hey, El, do you know where Joel is?” you ask the girl, slightly concerned.

“No, are you going out looking for him?” she asks.

“Probably, don’t know where I should start though,” You respond.

Something drew you to the carpenter's shed when you were searching for Joel. You peer into the window and as you suspected you saw him sitting there. Toying with new boots you assumed Tommy had given him. As you open the door Joel didn’t look up like you had expected.

“Joel,” You say quietly.

“Joel,” you say again, this time tapping his shoulder and using a firmer voice.

He slightly jolted back like he was shocked.

“Oh, hey,” he said reluctantly.

“Is something the matter? You seem upset,” You ask worried.

“How’d you like it if you stayed here for a while?”

“This sounds like a trick,” you tell him.

“I’ve asked Tommy to take Ellie the rest of the way. I’m gonna leave too, and you’re gonna stay here,” He said, his eyes not meeting yours.

“What?” you say, as if you didn’t hear him the first time.

He still wasn’t looking at you.

“And what makes you think you can just decide that for us?”

“It’s the best option for you and Ellie,” he said.

He still wasn’t looking at you.

“Like hell it is! Joel, you are the only person I trust right now, and as far as I'm concerned you are the only person who can take care of me. You promised me you’d protect me, you fucking promised!” You’re both standing now, in a fit of rage you start lightly hitting his chest with your fists.

“Hey, hey I know what I said. You can call me a liar all you want. Just please, stay here. Where you’re safe. This is how i’m protecting you,” He says, you don’t miss the way his voice breaks.

“Joel, don't do this! I’ll never fucking forgive you. I’m gonna hate you if you do this,” You sob into his chest as he holds your clenched hands.

“I’m sorry, I'm so sorry. I just- I just can’t take care of you. I’m worthless to you now,” At this point his eyes are threatening tears too.

“You can’t! You can’t leave me too. No, no, no, I won't let you.”

“Doll, you have to trust me. I’d give up everything for you if I could. But you’re young, you have so much more life to live. If I take you with me I'm endangering that. And I'd rather die than see you hurt,” he admits as he picks up his boots and leaves you to settle with your own pain.

_

Ellie had told you about her own fight with Joel only a few hours after your own. Part of you still can’t believe he would just let go of the two of you so easily.

You’re walking beside Ellie and Tommy to the stables. You’re still processing the fact that this is “the end.”

“So what? This is it? Everything we did all for just this,” Ellie asks you.

“Maybe not,” you nod towards Joel who’s standing by one of the horses.

“Are you here to say goodbye?” You ask Joel, walking up to him.

“Look, I still think you’d be safer here and Ellie would be better off with Tommy. But you both deserve a choice. You can-” Joel gets cut off by Ellie throwing her bag at him.

“Let’s just go already,” she tells the both of you.

“You have every right to hate me, doll. I don’t blame you if you want to stay here now. But I need you to know how much you mean to me, okay?” Joel says, his hands cup your face.

You sure as hell don’t miss the way his eyes finally meet yours.

[engie-ivy]

(Lyall Lupin being a Good Dad for his anxious son in law😁 For @wolfstarmicrofic)

9th: Cosy

1039 words

Lyall goes to use the toilet, and ends up adopting a new son.

Your New Family

“Really, Lyall?” Hope places her hands on her hips. “We just got here!”

“Sorry dear,” Lyall says cheerily. “But that’s the price you pay for becoming an old man, very frequent toilet breaks. Besides,” he adds. “With all your fretting about not being late, we’re like twenty minutes early, so now’s the perfect time.”

Hope rolls her eyes, a gesture Lyall is all too familiar with, and goes to inquire whether their table is already available, while Lyall strolls to the restrooms.

When he’s relieved himself and walks over to the sinks, there’s a boy pacing up and down. Well, maybe he’s more a young man, looking rather handsome with his fancy shoes, crisp white shirt, fitted suit jacket and long hair neatly tied into a pony tail, but to Lyall, he’s still a boy.

As Lyall is washing his hands, the boy leans on the sink next to him, staring at his reflection in the mirror, while taking what seem to be calming breaths.

Lyall meets the boy’s sharp grey eyes in the mirror. “Everything alright, lad?”

“Ah,” the boy says, looking slightly flustered. “Yes. Yes, I’m sorry, sir. Please, don’t mind me. I’m just...” He gestures vaguely with his hand. “Anxious, I guess.”

Lyall smiles at him as he turns off the tap. “On a big date?”

“No,” the boy says. “Not really. I mean, sort of, I guess.” The boy makes a move as if he wants to run his hand through his hair, showing that he’s not used to having it tied up. He settles for tugging at his pony tail. “I’m meeting my boyfriend’s parents for the first time. They’ll be here in...” He checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes. Fuck.” He presses his hand against his forehead. “Pardon my language,” he says after a quick glance at Lyall.

“Ah,” Lyall says, as something starts to dawn on him. “And you don’t think they’ll be... nice people?”

“They’re the best people!” The boy exclaims. “Going by what my boyfriend has been telling me at least, they’re really great.” He shakes his head. “But that’s just the fucking- I mean, that’s just the bloody problem, innit?”

Lyall tilts his head as he dries his hands with a paper towel. “How so?”

The boy shrugs. “My boyfriend comes from this warm and loving family, and he’s really close to his parents. It’s important to him that I get along with them.”

“Right.” Lyall nods in understanding. “And that of course puts a lot of pressure on you.”

The boy sighs. “I’m just scared I’ll fuck it- sorry, I’ll mess it up. I mean, what do I know about bonding with parents? I couldn’t even get my own bloody parents to even like me, and they’re supposed to have been programmed to love me!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lyall says sincerely.

“He’s envisioning this whole future, y’know?” The boy continues, now letting it all come out. “Coming together for birthdays, celebrating Christmases together, Sunday brunches at his parents’ place... He’s picturing this harmonious, cosy family, and I sure as hell can’t offer him that from my side, so if his parents don’t like me, I’ll take all of that away from him.”

Lyall looks at him sympathetically. “Sounds like it’s really important to you.”

The boy looks away. “I just don’t want to disappoint him,” he says softly. Then he lets out a humourless laugh. “God, I’m sorry. I swear I don’t normally trauma-dump on strangers in the restroom like this!”

“No, no,” Lyall says. “I asked, so don’t worry about it, lad. And the fact that You’re so anxious only means that this guy really means a lot to you.”

“He means everything to me,” the boy says without a moment of hesitation. He smiles to himself. “I can’t even explain. I mean... if I can’t give him everything, if he can find someone who can, who will make him happier, then I want him to break up with me, y’know? Even if it’ll completely destroy me. It’s like.... nothing matters besides his happiness.” He shakes his head. “I’m probably not making much sense. I’ve honestly never felt like this before.”

Lyall feels a warmth somewhere in his chest. “You know, lad, all a parent want is for their child to be happy...”

“But I don’t know that,” the boy interrupts, before adding quietly “Mine sure never did...”

Lyall feels a surge of fatherly protectiveness wash over him, for a boy he only just met! “I’m sorry you had that experience,” he says, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “But take it from me, if they are indeed the good people your boyfriend has made them out to be, then that will be the only thing that matters,” he says firmly. “So if you love your guy-”

“I do,” the boy immediately says. “I love him so, so much.”

Lyall regards him fondly, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Then trust me, that will be enough for them. It won’t matter if you’re wearing a fancy jacket, or if you’re hair is neatly tied up, or if you let slip the occasional curse word. If he loves you and you love him, and you make him happy, then that is going to be more than enough.”

The boy gives him a grateful look. “Well, then I have nothing to worry about,” he then says with a grin. “Loving him is actually my specialty!”

Lyall lets out a laugh. “Sounds like you’re going to be just fine!”

Suddenly, the boy gives him a hug. Lyall is startled for a moment, but then easily hugs him back.

“Thank you,” the boy says, pulling away. “I’m sure this isn’t what you were expecting when you just wanted to use the toilet, but I appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyall says. “And I’m sure your new family will grow to love you.”

The boy grins at him. “Alright, here I go. Wish me luck!”

“You don’t need it, lad.”

The boy chuckles. “If Remus’ dad is even slightly like you, I’m sure I’ll be fine!” And then he dashes out of the restroom.

Lyall looks in the mirror and smiles to himself. “I’ve got a sense that he will be.”

Now with a part 2!

Part 2: Your New Son

[jasntodds]

Penance Chapter 2 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 6/12

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader Teaser Words: 1,716 Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, mentions of canon violence Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞ It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right? Right? A/N: I'm having problems with my taglist?? I'm trying desperately to get it to work properly so please bear with me lol I'm always going to post some sort of update when this fic will be posted just in case so you can search my blog under "penance" if you haven't been tagged in anything in a week!! A teaser or chapter will be posted every week!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

Jason heads out to find Tim, daunting his Red Hood gear and helmet. The drive isn’t too far from his safe house but it is raining tonight, on and off. Yesterday was nice, warm and no rain. It's a bit of a depressing contrast between the two days. The street lights reflect off the wet pavement and Jason isn't entirely sure what he's going to do when he gets there. All he knows is Tim will probably need help and he'll just take it from there. It's not exactly how he wants to approach any situation but he's not sure what Tim will even be doing.

Jason pulls up to a building across the street from an alley where some, surely, illegal deal of sorts is going down. Apparently, Tim is supposed to be here eventually so Jason parks the bike in the dark of his alley before he uses a grappling hook to get to the roof of the building just so he can see better. And then he waits.

Meanwhile, you've made your place on the roof overlooking the alley with the van, knowing this is where Tim will be. And you can’t help but feel excited to see him. You miss him a lot even if it is a little hard to be happy it's under the circumstances of Robin. There's also the bit of dread and excitement over seeing Jason, working with Jason.

Seeing him means there's going to have to be some sort of conversation over the two of you being unable to pick up a phone and call each other. There's going to be some sort of conversation about everything that happened. It's going to bring back all of the pain all over again. Will you even be able to pick up where you left off? Or will you fall into an awkward dance where you both just fumble over each other until Tim leaves? Or will it be worse? But, seeing him, being around him, always felt the most like home and you really hope he's okay and happy. You're excited just to see how he's doing.

You're laying on your stomach to take cover while you watch over the ledge but your fingers tap wildly against the pavement at the thought. It’s the hope this goes okay, that he doesn’t hate you. That Tim is happy to see you both. That Tim doesn’t get killed in the first five minutes of being Robin. Excitement, dread, and anxiety flood your system. Why did you agree to this?

Commotion starts from below you and you see Tim on the top of a car while the goons are loading their van. Even in the low light, you can tell the suit is a little different than Jason's and Dick's. The cape definitely is with its jagged edges and it's longer. It fits him actually. You stand on the edge of the roof, grappling hook in hand and knife in the other, ready to slide down the second things get out of hand. 

Tim handles himself okay at first but then they outnumber him and they’re faster than he is and better. You know Tim has had a few training sessions but by the looks of it, they could not have been very long or helpful. Things start looking pretty bad for him so you use the grappling hook to lower yourself down but before your feet even hit solid ground, shots ring through the alley, taking out one of the men and then the other. Just as your feet hit the ground, you nail the last one with a knife, turning to face down the alley with your arms crossed. And there he is, walking confidently with a gun in hand.

Of course, he beat you to it.

Jason's eyes widen behind his helmet. He did not expect to see you tonight. Kind of like last night, seeing you throws him off. It's a bit jarring somehow. Gotham might be a big city but you travel in the same circles, it was bound to happen. Just...two nights in a row seems...odd.

“I had that covered.” You state through your mask.

Jason can taste his heartbeat in his throat as he keeps closing the distance between you. Your mask always muffled your voice a little but it's still his favorite sound. He can feel his cheeks burning and a smile desperate to cross his lips. Jason bites it back, trying to keep his composure.

“Where the fuck did you even come from?” Jason quips back.

You point to the roof. “Clearly. And you?” You question, keeping your voice flat and curious, trying to conceal your own nerves.

Jason points a thumb over his shoulder. “Clearly.” He echoes as he stands next to you.

It all clicks then, this was definitely a setup by Dick. Of all fucking people, Dick Grayson is doing this shit? Jason swears up and down this is getting ridiculous. Bruce, Molly, Gar, Dick? They are all trying to get them to communicate and...maybe they have a point even if Jason never wants to admit it. Not when two of those people are Bruce and Dick. But, he can’t focus on that or how this is sending his head into a tailspin.

He needs to help Tim which means he can't let his feelings for you get in the way even if ignoring them is one of the hardest things he's ever done. He has to act normal and like being next to you doesn't make him want to explode. He needs to keep his cool, keep the smile from ripping apart his lips because even if this is a setup and he should be mad, he misses you so fucking much it physically pains him. He can't find himself to be mad because you'll never abandon Tim so even if you don't speak to Jason while you help him, at least he gets to see you as you. Like old times even if it doesn’t last and for that, Jason is happy.

Jason reaches behind his head, releasing the helmet before he takes it off and you swear you swallowed your heart. He looks so good. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Jason calls, eyes locked on Tim and you think you've melted at the sound of his voice.

His voice is somehow better than you remember it. A little calloused, a little rough, but not too deep. It always fit him so well and you've never been so thankful to have a mask that covers the lower half of your mouth because your lips are curling into the most uncontrollable smile. Every piece of reservation you had about seeing him completely flies out of the window.

Jason Todd has always had his type of gravitation pull like a planet lost in the universe and you've just been sucked right back into it.

You miss him so fucking much.

Tim looks down to his chest, right at the R symbol before he looks back to Jason. “I’m Robin.” Tim states as if Jason should have known.

The subtle hint of a smile comes over Jason’s lips seeing someone else in the Robin suit. It’s weird because it almost feels…hurtful. It hurts a little seeing someone else in a position where he was, not in a jealous way but in a way that he is reminded that was him. He was Robin and he fucked up and now he’s not. It hurts in the way he’s reminded of it being ripped away from his bloody hands. The suit is different, Jason clocks almost every difference in the first few seconds but it is similar. Jason was beaten to death in something similar with the same mantle. There’s almost this part of him that even worries about it. Robin didn’t work for Dick. He didn’t die as Robin but it didn’t work for him. Jason was killed. Where’s that going to leave Tim?

On the other hand though, there is something about someone else taking up Robin that feels good. Jason died but Robin didn’t. Robin never had to die with Jason and he shouldn’t. The people need a Robin and he doesn’t really know Tim but you do and Gar does. He trusts you both and Tim looks thrilled to be here. It’s a mix but there is something kind of nice seeing the resurrection of Robin.

“Hey.” You chime as you walk closer to him.

Tim’s smile splits his face. “Hey, how’d you know I’d be here?”

“Molly tracked you the second a Robin showed up. Knew it was you.” You laugh softly before you pull him into a gentle hug. “You should have told me.” You say as you pull away, your hands coming to his shoulders as you look over the suit, noticing all the difference between this one and Jason’s.

“Yeah, I thought I could handle this.” Tim chuckles sheepishly, realizing he was a little in over his head tonight but not lacking in any of his confidence to do this job. 

“Clearly, you were wrong.” Jason closes the distance between you. “You’re lucky we showed up when we did.” Jason stands right beside you as you drop your hands from his shoulders, maybe you looking over the suit makes him want to chew his tongue out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I got that.” Tim nods his head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The smile reaches your eyes as you beam back at Tim.

Jason’s eyes narrow at you slightly. You seem awfully happy. He knows Tim is your friend but you just seem overly happy or maybe he’s in his own head about it. He just remembers that day picking you up from Titans Tower and it was...similar. It's like he's getting stabbed in the chest and the base of his throat knowing you were not happy to see him tonight. The very thought of your feelings disappearing makes him feel like his rib cage might collapse on itself. So, he pushes it away as far as he possibly can and bites back his own words, trying to just be relieved you look happy instead of pissed off Dick set you up. He’s just thankful you haven’t run away. Yet.

prev. chapter

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[techs-goggles9902]

Hi. I read that you're in your Captain Rex phase, so for a request, how about he x F! Kix's assistant doctor where is her birthday and Hardcase, Fives and Jesse convince her to celebrate on 79s. She doesn't drink, so when she does this for the first time she ends up confessing her feelings for Rex to his brothers and at that moment he listens. Rex takes her home and takes care of her. And maybe when she's sober they can talk about it, and she finds out that Rex feels the same way about her. ♥️

I Like You - Rex/f!medic reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! SEE MASTERLIST FOR DETAILS. I WRITE FOR ALL LISTED FANDOMS BTW

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of syringes (but not used, just thrown away)

Word count: 1544 (dialogue heavy)

A/N: sorry I took a few days! It took me a while to figure out how to write this since I’ve never drank or anything, so a lot of googling! I hope this is what you meant! I’d be happy to rewrite it if you’re not happy!!! ❤️

“Stitches!”

You turn at the call of your name. Well, nickname. Ever since the Republic needed more medics and you came into the 501st family, that’s been your name. The men gave each other names, and they saw fit to give you your own.

“Fives, hey. Did you need somethin’?” You ask as you pick up another discarded syringe from underneath a gurney. The last battle was brutal, with so many fatalities. So many men. Troopers. Friends. Brothers.

“What, I can’t just come and say hi to my favorite medic for no apparent reason?” He smirks. You give him a look.

He folds, “Fine. Well… ‘Case and Jesse told me it was your birthday. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want to make a fu-”

“Don’t lie. I know how you and the other nat-borns avoid birthdays around us. It’s not like we’ll get offended, Stitch. It’s your birthday!” Fives grins and shakes your shoulders enough to make you smile back.

You give him that little shy smile of yours and his gaze softens from excited to empathetic.

“Can we take you out tonight? Not as a date, of course. You have someone in mind for that, don’t you, Stitch?” He waggles his eyebrows at you.

“Shhh! Shut up, we don’t talk about that…”

“Okay, fine. But, please, Stitch? Hardcase and Jesse would be devastated. You don’t want to crush their hearts, do you? Do you?”

“Oh, Fives, you… Fine! I can’t take your begging and pleading. You’re buying,” you say with a grin, walking away to discard the syringe. Fives follows you.

“We have a couple hours until we get home, so… Uh… Do what girls do,” he says.

“Okay, okay! Get out of here already, Maker…” You laugh as Fives hugs you from behind and runs out of the medbay before you can throw anything at him.

Why did I even say yes? I’ve never even touched alcohol and now I’m surrounded by it. I swear, if I’m dragged back to the barracks, I’m killing all three of those idiots.

“Stitch! Over here!” You’re called from a small booth in the back of 79’s. You’ve been to this bar a multitude of times over your two year career in the 501st, but you’ve ever had a drink here. You were, as Hardcase calls it, the designated driver.

You approach the booth, weaving between drunk troopers, their civilian dance partners, and server droids. Fives, Hardcase, and Jesse already had drinks in their hands as you slid in the booth next to Jesse.

“Finally made it. Ordered you a drink,” Hardcase says with his little grin.

“Too kind, good sir,” you retort, shoving Jesse to give you more room in the booth. He shoves back with a smirk.

The server droid quickly delivers your drink, a colorful cocktail with various sugary fruits on skewers balancing on the rim of the glass.

“How can you guys even afford this?” Your jaw goes slack at the sight of the drink.

“Bill it to the Republic!” Fives yells, raising his own glass in the air. Hardcase and Jesse reciprocate, thrusting their glasses in the air, spilling a bit of its contents on the table top.

“Sure, sure, yeah,” you giggle, slightly raising your glass so you don’t knock off the fruits.

It started with the cocktail. Then a few shots of Spotchka. Then some Corellian ale you’ve seen in holo-commercials. The four of you couldn’t even walk straight, but did it matter? It was your birthday and your first time experiencing the feeling of alcohol flowing through your veins.

The buzz kept you upright, kept you awake, kept you partying.

What if he was here… heh, we’d have fun… A lot of fun.

“So, who’s this mystery man we’ve had to hear so much about, Stitch?” Hardcase slurs.

“Oh my Maker… He’s. So. Fine. No, seriously, you don’t understand, ‘Case. And, he’s so nice…” you sigh dreamily.

“Oh, it’s me?” Jesse laughs.

“No… c’mere,” you beckon, the three clones leaning in with wide eyes. “It’s Rex.”

“Ha! I knew it! Stitch likes Rex!” Fives cackles, raising his empty glass in the air. Hardcase’s eyes go wide and he nudges Fives’ ribs with his elbow and points to something, or someone, behind you, in front of them.

“Wha… Oh. Hey, Captain… Didn’t know you were gonna be here…” Fives says, quickly lowering his arm, his face turning a deep scarlet.

Your breath stops halfway to your lungs, your blood running cold. Did he just say captain-

“Different Rex, of course. You know, that one dude… He’s uh… Over there somewhere…” Hardcase quickly says, pointing somewhere across the dimly lit bar. Fives and Jesse turn their attention there as well, all murmuring under their breath about the nonexistent other Rex.

“Okay, I think Stitch has had a bit too much to drink tonight. You’re obviously not getting home by yourselves anytime soon,” Rex says, curling his fingers around your upper arm and easing you to your feet.

“Rex, I, uh…”

“Stitch, don’t worry about it. Let’s get you home, yeah? Let you sober up for the night,” Rex gently pulls you away from the booth, the drunk trio of clones still trying to point out the different Rex. None of them notice as Rex takes you out the backdoor.

“What’s your passcode?” Rex asks as he comes to a stop at the door of your apartment, ready to type in your code.

“7-5-6-7,” you recite, your cheeks burning a bright pink. Rex raises his brows with a little chuckle and pulls you inside, shutting the door behind you.

“Let’s get something non-alcohol related into your system. You have water in the conservator?” He asks, gently pushing you onto a kitchen chair.

“Mmhmm.”

He finds a bottle of water and a ration pack, opens both, and places them in front of you.

“I want them both gone,” he firmly says as he slides in the seat across from you. He watches, making sure you eat and drink everything. “Happy Birthday, by the way.”

He said Happy Birthday to me. He said Happy Birthday to me. He said Happy Birthday to me. He said-

“Thanks.”

Once the ration pack is eaten and the glass is empty, Rex cleans up, ordering you to the bedroom. You sit on the bed, not wanting to go and find your pajamas, not wanting to clean off your makeup.

“C’mere,” his soft voice coos. It’s music to your ears, the way his accent makes him pronounce the sounds just a tad differently.

He grabs a wipe from your adjacent bathroom and gently wipes away the cosmetic gunk you painted on your face. You just barely hear him whisper, “Don’t see why you need it. You’re beautiful without it.”

The words bring warmth to your chest, butterflies to your stomach, happy thoughts to the mushy thing between your ears. He called me beautiful…

He turns away as you change into just your undershirt, hiding the rest of your body beneath the covers of your bed.

“Ah ah! Not on the stomach or back. Your side, Stitch,” he says, turning around and pushing you onto your side, piling pillows to keep you in position.

“But what if I like sleeping on my tummy?” You ask, trying to roll over to face him. He sighs.

“And you think I’m a difficult patient?”

“But… What if I get uncomfy?”

“Hon, lie still, please.”

“Bu-”

“No.”

You pout, jutting out your bottom lip. Rex smiles. “You’re cute like this. Get some sleep, Stitch.”

He called me cute…

Waking up with a skull crushing headache made you rethink going out in the first place. The nausea hits you as you sit up, your head spinning. The Coruscant sun spills through your translucent curtains, illuminating your bedroom.

The sounds of passing speeders whirling past your windows are muted by the durasteel walls. Someone, a man, sits in the chair beside your window, his face is slowly revealed as the sun rises higher.

Rex… he stayed with me… Aw, he’s sleeping…

“Mmm… Finally ‘wake…” he says, his husky voice laced with sleep. His eyes crack open and his drowsy hazel irises look upon yours. “Feeling okay?”

“Did… Did you sleep there?”

“Mmhmm… I didn’t wanna intrude. It’s your bed,” he says, rubbing his eyes with his calloused hands. “But how do you feel?”

“Hungover, I guess.”

“First time?”

You nod. “About what I said last night…”

“Hey, no. Don’t apologize, okay? I… like you, as well, Stitch,” Rex says, coming over and sitting beside you on your bed, the mattress dipping beside you.

“I- What? You do?” Your eyes widen, everything that happened, every little thing he cooed in your ear the previous night, all of it comes back. He called you cute. Beautiful.

He nods, wringing his hands in his lap, a shy smile tugging at his lips. He turns slightly to face you, the two of you subconsciously leaning in. Your lips part as your eyes drift down to his own lips, his tongue quickly wetting them.

“I really like you, Stitch…” He murmurs as he leans in closer.

“I really like you, to-” You’re shut up by his lips pressing against yours.

Maybe I won’t kill the idiot trio, afterall…

Taglist: @will-is-silly @fionajames @sevdidntdie @hellhound5925 @dangraccoon @skellymom

Please lmk if you want to be added or taken off the taglist!

Dividers by @ saradika

[yayeetsonny]

Let you down (USWNT x Young!Reader)

This one was inspired by a song by a rap artist by the name of NF. Obviously I don’t own any part of the song in anyway shape or form.

This one deals with Anxiety and Sadness and just overall not great emotions but it does have a happy ending. Also has squint and you’ll miss it Mal x reader. Mal is also younger to help fit the plot. Hope you enjoy. All mistakes are mine, Not edited.

“Feels like we're on the edge right now

I wish that I could say I'm proud

I'm sorry that I let you down

I let you down….”

“Please don't come after me

I just wanna be alone right now, I don't really wanna think at all

Go ahead, just drink it off

Both know you're gonna call tomorrow like nothing's wrong

Ain't that what you always do?

I feel like every time I talk to you

You're in an awful mood

What else can I offer you?

There's nothing left right now, I gave it all to you…”

Suddenly my earbud was ripped out of my ear cutting off the song i was listening to. “Hey! What the hell Mallory? I was listening to that!” I said angrily as I grabbed my earbud back from her and turned to walk away.

“Okay, woah, chill out dude I was just gonna ask you if you wanted to join the girls and I for lunch after practice…” She said pointing at the girl’s behind her who were watching us curiously. I sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration, mostly at myself realizing I overreacted.

“No thank you. I’m sorry I snapped at you. Shouldn’t have.” I said softly before shoving my earbud back in my ear, walking away to the other side of the field, picking up a ball on the way and absentmindedly juggling it.

“What’s her deal?” Rose asked, face scrunched in confusion.

“No idea, all i did was take the earbud out of her ear to ask if she wanted to go to lunch with us and she snapped at me. She said no, which is fine but somethings wrong, I can tell.” Mal said

“that’s not like her at all, should I try and talk to her?” Christen asked popping up out of nowhere.

“You might be the right person to do that, not totally certain she seems pretty upset about something.” Mal said shrugging slightly

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

For the second time in 5 minutes my earbud was taken out of my ear cutting off the depressing music blasting out of it.

“Okay seriously, Mal if you don’t get away from me in the next 10 seconds I swear…” I trailed off as I turned to face who I thought was Mal but turned out to be Christen. “Oh s-sorry Chris I thought you were Mal. What’s up?”

“That’s okay, although your reaction when you thought I was her is a little concerning… Everything okay? Did she do something to upset you?”

“No, no, i’m sorry. She didn’t do anything, not really anyways, I’m just irritable right now.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just really lost in my head I guess.” I shrugged absentmindedly as I sat on the bench and changed into my slides.

“Lost in your head about what, love?” Chris asked as she moved to sit next to me, resting her hand on my knee.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid Pressy don’t worry about it.” I said, shooting up and jogging away.

“Something is definitely up with that kid. Time to gather the vets and do some gentle prodding.”

I quietly made my way onto the bus and went all the way to that back, curling up into a seat turning to face the window so my teammates knew to leave me alone. My phone dinged and I already knew I wasn’t going to like what I read.

“You think you’re some big shot now that you made it to the national team? You know it’ll only be a matter of time before you crash and burn. Come home before you embarrass me on national television.”

It was a text from my father. He’d never been the most supportive of my dreams and my current career. These last few days however he’s been more… aggressive with his words. I don’t know why or what I did but he’s been telling me I’ll only be an embarrassment to him and my step mother. That he doesn’t need his friends asking questions when I inevitably fail. His words not mine. I haven’t told the girls anything about what he’s saying because i don’t want them to do something rash, like get on a plane and fly over and beat his ass which is something they’re not above doing. I let out a quiet sigh shoving my phone in my bag before closing my eyes and attempting to sleep.

Team Veteran’s POVs//

“Okay what’s with the kid?” Alex asked staring at our youngest teammate in concern

“She’s 18, you know?” Mal said cutting into our conversation. Megan shot her a sharp look and she went back to watching ATLA (pls tell me y'all know what that acronym stands for…) eating her mandatory after practice goldfish and drinking a juice box Tobin gave her.

“Doesn’t matter she’s still the youngest on this team so by default she’s still a kid to us.”

“That’s lame.”

“Mallory…”

“What?”

“First of all, you just turned 19 like 2 seconds ago so you’re also still a kid and secondly don’t eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, it’s rude.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, you guys are all sitting together in front of me, it’s kind of hard not to hear what you’re saying.”

“Just put your earbuds in and pay attention to your show please.”

“Chris come on, she’s my best friend I- ”

“Mallory Diane do as I say please.”

“Okay jeeze, no need to use my government name.” She said rolling her eyes at me. I pinched the bridge of my nose and breathed in deeply to stop myself from correcting her.

“As you were saying?”

“Well she’s just acting odd, when was the last time she was like this?”

“I can’t even remember it’s been a long time.”

“What should we do?” Kelley asked reaching over into Mal’s bag of goldfish, taking a healthy handful, much to her dismay.

“Hey!” Mal slapped her hand hard enough for it to echo throughout the bus, causing everyone to look over at us in surprise, Kelley jerked her hand away, holding it like she’d been shot.

“Mallory Pugh! We do not hit people. Say you’re sorry right now.”

“Sorry Kel. I should’ve just used my words. Please don’t take my goldfish.” She said quietly.

“Thanks squirt, I accept your apology. I’m sorry too, I should’ve asked first.”

“lt’s okay, I accept your apology.”

“Good job using your words babe.” I said ruffling her hair slightly.

Once we were sure Mal was settled again we went back to our previous discussion.

“I say we just let her come to us when she’s ready, you know how she is when people push too hard.”

“I agree.”

“Usually I would agree but they way she snapped at Mal earlier tells me she’s about half a step away from either actually hitting someone or putting a hole in the wall.”

“That’s a little dramatic don’t you think?”

“When has she ever snapped at Mal, Ali?”

“Good point.”

“We still haven’t answered the question of what we’re going to do though.”

“I say we just be straight forward and honest, let her know we’re worried and that we’d like to talk to her and see if she’ll open up and tell us what’s going on.”

“Won’t that send her running for the hills?”

“Not if we don’t give her the opportunity to run.” Alex said getting a mischievous look in her eye.

“Oh no, I know that look, what do you have up your sleeve Al?”

“You’ll see” She said leaning over and whispering whatever it was she was thinking to Becky, who hummed in agreement.

After another hour we finally made it back to the hotel, got roommate assignments and got settled for the night. All the veterans on the team hung back after everyone else had left to go to bed, leaving just Alex, Tobin, Christen, Ali, Julie, Becky, Crystal, Kelley, And Alyssa in the Lobby.

“Okay Cap what’s the plan?” Tobin asked.

“The plan is we’re all going to Alex and Kelley’s room, to wait for the kid. We gave Mal a note to leave on her bed and told her to go hang out in someone else’s room so when she’s not there, she’ll have to go looking for her, and when she passes by the room we’ll grab her and lock her in with us until we get some answers about what’s going on.” Becky said, as we all huddled together and talked in hushed tones.

“So we’re kidnapping her?”

“Not kidnapping… more like, trapping out of love and concern.”

“Right… it still sounds a lot like kidnapping to me.”

“Just follow our lead.”

“Whatever you say, cap.”

We all went up to the room and waited anxiously to see if our plan would work. It only took about 10 minutes to receive our answer. A quiet knock on the door startled almost everyone in the room.

“I got it” Alex said getting up and padding over to the door.

“Hey little Lamb what’s up?” We heard her say.

“Uh… have you seen Mal anywhere?”

“No, I haven’t why?”

“It’s just we’re rooming together and she always waits for me to come up before she goes anywhere.”

“Hmm, I don’t know kid, sorry.”

“Oh okay, that’s okay, i’ll get out of your hair sorry to bother you.”

“You didn’t bother me it’s no problem.”

“Goodni-” She began to say but it was cut off when Alex quite literally grabbed her and yanked her inside, the force of which sent her stumbling forward into the room falling slightly. Alex quickly closed the door and locked it while she wasn’t looking.

“Alex, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hey, language.”

It was then that the young striker turned to look at who said that and saw all of us sitting on the beds.

“What the…? What is this?”

“An intervention… of sorts.” Julie said quietly.

“Intervention? For what?” She said her eyes going as wide as saucers

“For why you’re acting so weird lately.” Tobin said standing up, and crossing her arms, trying to intimidate our young teammate just slightly.

“I am not acting weird.” She said defensively.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not!”

“Really? Then why did you snap at Mal and technically christen today?”

“I was just irritated.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, why do you guys care so much?”

“Because we’re supposed to look after you.” Christen said, raising an eyebrow when all she got in return was an eye roll. After a beat of silence she sighed loudly and sat down on the floor, hanging her head in defeat.

“Are you…okay?” Kelley asked as we all looked around at each other, unsure of what to say or do.

“I don’t know.” She said lifting up her head and rubbing her face tiredly. She took her phone out of her pocket, and after a moment threw it on the bed, and said “Read it”

We each took turns quietly reading the text conversation between her and her father, and after each person read it there was a noticeable shift in the room. Everyone was angry for her.

“Who talks to a child like that? Much less their own child?” Megan said beginning to pace around the room, angrily.

“I’ll kill him.”

“I’ll break his kneecaps.”

“You don’t need his approval you know that, right?”

“I just feel like I’ve let him down.” She said quietly, looking anywhere but at us.

“That’s not true. I won’t lie and say that he’s going to change his mind one day and say that what you’re doing is good enough for him but you don’t need validation from him, or anyone for that matter. All that matters is how you feel about yourself and the things that you do.” Ali said sitting down next to her and wrapping her arm around her, letting her lay her head on her shoulder.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now. I mean I know that what he said wasn’t cool, but i do still rely on him for stuff and at the end of the day I still have to go home at the end of camp.” she sighed.

“What could you possibly rely on him for?” Kelley scoffed

“Oh I don’t know, maybe, food, a roof over my head, things like that.” She said sarcastically.

“You don’t need him for that, you have us.”

“Oh right, like one of you is gonna want ME as a roommate.”

We all looked around at each other and a few of us shrugged.

“Why not? If you want, you can be me and kelley’s roomie.” Alex said smiling softly at the young striker who looked back at her with lots of skepticism.

“Or you could ask Mal if she’s looking to room with anyone.” Tobin said wiggling her eyebrows.

“You guys would really do that for me?” She asked, voice breaking just slightly.

“Of course we would kid.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what family does.” Christen said, walking over to our youngest teammate and giving her a hand up.

“Group hug!” Tobin said as we all smushed together. The hug was brief however as we were interrupted by rapid knocking on the door.

“Okay, okay hold your horse’s I’m coming” Crystal said quickly yanking the door open, startling whoever was on the other side.

“Is Y/N here?” We heard Mal ask.

“Yeah, she is, you wanna come in?” Crystal stepped to the side to let the youngins into the room, mainly Mal, Rose, Sonnett, Trinity, Tierna, Sophia, Ashley Sanchez and Sam Mewis.

“We were wondering if-”

“Wait what’s wrong?” Sam asked, taking in Y/N’s tired and still slightly sad expression.

“Nothing Sammy, they just finished cheering me up actually.”

“Cheering you up about what? Are you okay?” Mal asked, stepping forward and wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Yeah I’m okay. My dad’s just being a little tough on me right now, that’s all.”

Ali scoffed, “I think he’s being a little more than tough on you, love. He’s being a jackass, and you don’t deserve it.”

“Wait, what did we miss? Come on, we never get to know what’s going on!” Trinity whined.

Y/N decided to show the new comers to the room, what they had missed and much like before everyone was visibly and vocally angry on behalf of our teammate all beginning to talk over one another, only stopping when Y/N loudly called out to them.

“Guys, guys, it’s okay. I don’t need you all conspiring to commit murder on my behalf, okay? It’s not necessary. I’ve already decided to take Alex and Kelley up on their offer to be their roommate.”

“Really? That’s great! We’ll get all the details sorted out before the end of camp.” Alex said wrapping her arms around her in a bear hug.

“Fine, is there anything else we can do for you then? Anything.” Mal asked.

“Movie night?”

“Anything for you.”

After everyone was changed and comfortable, everyone piled on and around the 2 beds in the room, Alex caught on to the fact that Mal and Y/N were laying together, with Y/N in between Mal’s legs, laying on her chest. She quietly nudged Julie who was the closest to them and she quickly took out her phone and snapped a picture, discreetly sending it to everyone but the 2 lovebirds.

“Awww! That’s so CUTE!” Rose said loudly, Sam quick to cover her mouth and shush her, Mal and Y/N looking at her in confusion.

“What’s so cute Rose?” Mal asked.

“Uh- nothing, nothing just a picture of Sam’s dog she just showed me.” She said nervously. Sam elbowed Rose in the ribs as she smiled sweetly at them.

“Oh yeah, just uh, it’s just a picture of Fin from the first bath he took.” She said nervously.

“Oh let me see!” Y/N said enthusiastically.

Sam quickly pulled up a picture to show her and mal and they both gushed over it quietly.

After a lot of debate and only a little bit of yelling, it was decided we would watch Monster’s inc. A Pixar classic.

While we weren’t sure how well the next few weeks would go for our youngest teammate, we all vowed to do whatever it took to show her that we would always be there for her, and that we would be the family that she had always been looking for.

//

THE END

This ending was awkward, and i overall don’t really like how this turned out. But hopefully it was decent.

[sil-writes-fiction-too]

Holding On For You

Severus Snape x OC

Genre: lots of angst with a happy ending maybe?

CW: bodily harm, injury, blood, mentions of death

A/N: another late entry. There will be many unfortunately, so bear with me please! This is for Day 11 of June of Doom, and I used the prompt "We're out of time" with "Bleeding out" ( @juneofdoom ).This one-shot is about my very own rendition of the "Severus Snape died in the Battle of Hogwarts, but not really" trope. Rhianna is my OC and she is a teacher at Hogwarts, which is how she met Severus, of course. All of this was invented for a story that, once again, @wolfhunter89 and I wrote. Severus and Rhianna were my Roman Empire before Summer and Gale, so I really hope you like this one. Enjoy!

It's cold. And quiet. And lonely. An end fitting of him, he thinks. He could do without the pain, but, after all, doesn't he deserve it? For all he's done, this is almost too merciful a death, in his opinion. He has been waiting for this moment for a long time and he was ready. He was, he could swear it. So then... why is he still holding on? How much time has passed? How much blood has he lost? Letting go should be easy at this point. Fuck, his body is gonna give out eventually anyway. And yet still... he holds on.

He should be happy, really. He did what he had to do, stalled long enough. Now it was up to somebody else to finish this once and for all. It was up to that boy. Harry. He even got to see his eyes one last time. The eyes that so closely resemble Lily's.

Lily.

So much of his life has been spent desperately trying to make amends for his past misdeeds. To pay for his sins against the only friend he's ever had. Would this suffice? Has he done enough? It never feels like it's enough. But seeing her eyes, even through her son, made him feel like maybe he could stop trying, like what he's done would suffice. But it lasted only for a mere two seconds.

This is not enough.

He's tied all the loose ends but one. He is holding on because deep down, no matter how much he thinks he doesn't deserve it, he still wants to see her one last time.

Her.

Rhianna.

The mere thought of her nearly makes him choke up. He told her he would come back to her, that they would see each other after everything was finally over. He was lying to her face and he knew it. Will she hate him once she finds out he's gone? Will she understand why he had to do it? Of course she would, she is... incredible. But even if she didn't, he wouldn't blame her. And then what of his daughter? What will become of her? He should've never grown so attached to her. He should've just been her teacher, not... play father-daughter with her. He knew he wasn't going to stick around after all. He may have done just enough to save the wizarding world just to crush hers. He really is a terrible, terrible man. He doesn't deserve them.

Even so... he still wishes to see them, to hear their voices. One last time. Surely he can allow himself this one selfish wish before he goes. No matter how much it breaks his heart to think about it.

A distant scream echoes from somewhere, every sound as blurry as his vision right now, and it makes his brows furrow in displeasure. It is not for him to know what is happening in the school right now, nor what will be of this war... but he hopes that what he did will at least be enough to tip the scales. Another scream, closer this time, and he wonders if the boy is dead. But then someone enters his vision. He can feel hands squeezing his arms and a frantic voice calling his name and pleading. It sounds so far away... But that touch, that contact, it's like it tugs him back to Earth for a moment longer, giving him enough strength to at least try and focus his gaze on whoever was unlucky enough to stumble upon this sorry scene.

He struggles at first, groaning in pain when the wound in his neck suddenly starts throbbing again, but then he manages to properly open his eyes and what he sees is a pair of green irises staring back at him with terror.

The greenest eyes he's ever seen.

“Rhianna...” His voice is unrecognizable. Weak, broken, hoarse... it makes her sob, and he feels guilt almost swallowing him whole.

“Severus! Oh my god, no! No, no, no, please!!” Her hand is quick to come up to his neck, pressing down on the bleeding wound. He wants to tell her to leave it be, that it is too late, but he knows she won't listen. “Please, please, stay awake, we'll get you some help! I-I'll just... I'll...!” She looks around frantically, desperately trying to come up with a way to help him without having to take her hand away from his neck. He has never seen her in such a state. Pale, terrified, panicked, with no idea of what to do. She always knows what to do. To help him, to make him feel better, to make him see a way out. Brave, kind, beautiful Rhianna...

Was it really worth it? To get close to her? To let himself fall for her? … Just to see her hurting so much right now because of him? If he could spare her this pain he would, but God... he can't bring himself to regret their love. So he does the only thing he can do, and he uses whatever little strength is left in his body to reach out and gently cup her face in his hand. She is so warm, so soft... the complete opposite of him, as always. “Rhianna...” He calls her name again, running his thumb under her eye to wipe away a tear. She quickly puts her other hand on top of his, gently grasping it as her red lips delicately brush against his palm. “Yes, my love, yes...” She whispers in a trembly voice, looking into his dark eyes as she listens.

“You are... the best thing that's ever happened to me. I am happy I got to have you... and that I got to give myself to you... even if for a short time.” The words come out slowly, between gasping breaths, but they are clear enough for her face to grow even paler and for her eyes to spill even more tears. “No, don't you dare, Severus! You don't get to say that! You are not dying!” She shakes her head stubbornly, angrily. He gives her a heartbroken look. He wishes he could hold her in his arms like he did last night, but he can feel the strength slowly leaving his body again. “We're out of time...” He whispers, doing his best to keep his eyes open so he may fill his mind with the image of her beautiful face. To have her be the last thing he sees... This he doesn't deserve, but he is grateful for it. Every little bit of it. “No we are not, damn you!” She snaps back at him, holding his hand even closer to her as she looks at him with flaming eyes. He sees her opening her mouth to say something else, but that's when he hears footsteps running towards them, even if once again sounds are becoming faint to him.

His name is called once again and he blinks slowly, trying to get a grasp on what is going on around him. His vision keeps blurring and clearing, making him more disoriented. He almost feels like he is underwater, with how muffled everything is.

Dad...

Something cold is suddenly pressed against his lips and through all the confusion he manages to hear someone instructing him to drink. So he does... immediately regretting it. Whatever the hell just went down his throat is unbelievably bitter, and if it wasn't for how tired he is he'd probably retch and curse at whoever made him drink this garbage. He still has enough energy to glare at the person, and this time he is met with a very familiar pair of blue eyes. She is here.

“What... what did you give him?” Comes Rhianna's astonished voice as her hold on his wound slowly loosens, making him panic for a moment. “I've been working on this thing the whole damn year. I can't believe he's the first person I have to use it on. What the fuck, dad?!” Severus' eyebrows knit at the young girl's offended tone of voice. “It's... it doesn't have a name yet, but it should give us enough time to get him some real help. Poppy should be here any moment now”. She sounds so sure of herself, so resolute. Even if whatever little plan she has concocted this time doesn't work, he can't help but feel proud of her. His pupil, his apprentice... his wonderful daughter. “Oh you-! You brilliant little witch!” Rhianna sounds relieved, even if her laughter is a little hysterical.

The ghost of a smile appears on his face. Whatever happens to him, no matter the pain... his heart feels full in this very moment. They are both here with him. For him. Severus was ready to die, he really was, but as he hears Poppy entering the room and the hope growing in his girls' voices, he is suddenly filled with the will to fight, to hold on a little longer. He was ready to die, but he is not ready to let go of them.

So he doesn't.

[isa-beenme]

Hi! Could you please do a second chance fic for azriel? Maybe angst that ends with fluff? I’m such a softy, I enjoy angst but need a happy ending 😅

Maybe, but just MAYBE, i got carried away with this one. I SWEAR the original plan was to do something simple, but i HAD to give them a backstory, i HAD to make it into more than one scene, and I HAD to make this into this length. I hope it is what you wanted. Thank you for being the first person to send a request 🥰🥰🥰

A Little Too Not Over You

Work was probably the only word you ever knew in your life. Or at least in the first two hundred years of it. It was hard to find a way to live your life as a normal fae and work for the High Lord at the same time, but it became more bearable as time flew and you understood how to organize your schedule to fit everything in for the few hours you had for yourself.

Especially when a certain spymaster started to be part of your schedule too.

It all started with the last High Lord and the day he hired you as his assistant. So review all the papers, fill in the requests, organize parties and all of that falls right into your back. It wasn't a problem tho, you were young and smart and wanted to please your High Lord as much as you could. You wanted to be useful.

It wasn't long until you met his personal spy, Azriel. You two formed what your boss said was his best team. Not in a good way at all, but both of you took it into your heart and worked through it. Once you met him, you started to work with him as well, resuming his travels for the High Lord, organizing his schedule for the next missions, and sometimes even helping him with his after-mission bruises or feeding him when he forgot to eat.

It was probably this that made you decide your life wasn't supposed to be all about work, you could add a new word to your vocabulary: love. It was easy to love Azriel, it was easy to fit him into your life and to fit yourself into his.

Behind the facets of the High Lord's most trusted duo were the hearts of two young faes who just discovered what happiness was.

That was, until it wasn't easy anymore.

The High Lord was dead. Rhysand took the power. You gained a new job in the library. Azriel too, but as the trusted spymaster of the Night Court. He was part of the inner circle. He was part of something bigger, something greater. You weren't.

You couldn't say Rhysand treated you badly, of course he didn't. But he had more people that he trusted over you. And apparently Azriel too.

You first had to watch him get away from you. Slowly but undeniably he was a fading presence in your life now. You had more time, he had more work. Suddenly he stopped asking you to help him with his schedule. Then he stopped going to your house every time he came from a mission for you to cover his bruises with kisses or just shower him with love. One day he simply stopped coming.

You considered going up to the House to see if everything was alright many times but brushed off the possibility quickly. On the day you finally gathered the courage to climb your way up to the House after a light day of work you finally discovered the reason why Azriel disappeared from your life. She had a great figure, a melodic voice, blond hair, and the most beautiful name you ever heard: Morrigan.

She was the High Lord's cousin, third in command, and member of the Inner Circle. Of course. She was better, smarter, and prettier. Everything you were supposed to be in this new court, the assistant and advisor you always worked hard to be but in a more beautiful face. You couldn't hate her, even if you tried. Maybe the grief of losing Azriel could've been easier if she wasn't so easy to love. You actually understood him.

It all happened almost five hundred years ago, and your thoughts still lingered in the shadows of your last lover. Your job in the library stayed the same, cataloging and organizing everything. It was a job you learned to love. It was easy, it was calm. Everything your life wasn't supposed to be.

Taking every girl that came into the library as a priestess into your wings and taking care of them was just a natural thing. Especially when they were as in need of a family as you.

- OH, here you are! I was looking for you - A ghost of orange hair flew into your vision faster than you could process who exactly it was.

- Gwyneth Berdara, should I be worried you did something bad again or you're finally here to give me some good gossip? - You asked once you finally understood who was standing in front of you, looking like a child that hides something from their mother.

- It'll depend on your answer - You quirked an eyebrow at that.

- Yeah? How so? - She giggled before handing a paper out to you.

- You know about the training I do with the Valkyries right? - you looked at her confused - So, I know that I already asked you to come to train with us a million times and a million times you denied but, hear me out, it's my birthday tomorrow and I can't imagine my birthday party without you in it.

- I know that and I hope you know I participated in your last twenty birthday parties. In the library - You said looking directly at her, seeing her face fall a little bit.

- Yes… but the thing is… this year it's gonna be up there. In the training area - You looked at her with concern. The memories of the days you spent in that training space flooding your brain - I know you don't like to go there, but please? Just this once? You don't even need to participate in the party, just… I don't know, stay at the side, watch and wait for the cake. Then you can get back down and never go there again. Please?

You looked at the paper she handed you, your name beautifully written on the card with golden paint, everything decorated with flowers and sparkles. Maybe it was time to finally face your fear of being neglected again. The girl in front of you and a hundred others that went through your life taught you that you were worth it. Even if the new High Lord didn't see that. Even if Azriel forgot that.

I raised you, Gwyn, and I'm still shocked with the things you can convince me to do - The female laughs and throws herself at you in pure happiness while murmuring lots of "thank you".

There was one thing you knew was even more worthy in this life than love: the smile you could bring into people's faces.

----------------

Maybe it was a terrible idea after all. Maybe you could still go back to the library you've grown so accustomed to and never get out again. Maybe Gwyneth won't even miss you with the amount of people filling the training area, if you could sneak out and fake a sudden flu she won't even notice. Yes, that was the perfect idea.

The amount of people surrounding the place made you feel suffocated, every reason for all of the hard times you went through in your life united in a day it was supposed to be a happy one. Rhysand, the High Lord who took your job away. Morrigan, who made you lose your lover. Even the goddamned Elain Archeron had to be there. Between gossips and rumors it got to your hearing, the one about the spymaster finally getting over The Morrigan only to fall in love with the middle Archeron sister wasn’t the one that would escape from you.

You were ready to turn up on your heel until a body crashed right into the person rushing to take the gift box that fell to the ground. You bent down too, trying to help fix the mess you made. One more reason to never leave the library again.

I'm so sorry, it's been so long since the last time I went out that I think I lost all of my capabilities of interacting with others and-

- It's you.

- I'm sorry? - You raise your head only to meet the golden eyes of your ex-lover, the ones you swore to never look at again and yet were burned into the depths of your mind. And he was looking straight at you - It's me - You flash him a quick smile before getting up and running back to the stairs you just climbed.

- WAIT! - You heard his voice calling you from a distance but you couldn't stop. The tears started to form in your eyes again and you thought of laughing right there and then. Five hundred years and he still affected you more than you could give yourself to believe.

You were close to the door until it opened in a flash and it hit your nose so hard that you instantly felt the blood start to drip from the area it was hit. You should probably feel thankful to however priestess opened the door and gave you an excuse for the tears that started to shed at the moment. Obviously because of the pain. You just pathetically sat there and let the tears run down your face, trying to make the blood stop running down your nose. It was all too much for a day.

- By the Cauldron, what happened here? - You heard Gwyn’s voice in a hurry.

- It’s okay, I was just trying to back because I don’t feel well and then someone opened the door when I was in front of it. It’s not much, I dealt with worse - I said finally getting up, realizing a good number of eyes were on me - I just need to go back to my house and it’ll heal-

- Definitely not, I’m taking you to the healing quarters and we’ll make sure it’s not broken - Azriel’s voice came from behind you, his hand already taking your arm to fly you wherever the healing quarters were.

- No! Really, it’s not necessary, I probably would feel if my nose was broken and guess what? I’m not feeling it. But thank you for your concern - As you were ready to turn back to the door you felt a hand wrapping around your wrist and panic flew right through you.

- You seem euphoric, Azriel will take you to the infirmary, even if just to give you tea or something to stop the bleeding - You knew why the High Lord said that, knew about the bond he shared with his two so said friends, gods be damned, you helped find the enchantment to create that bond. It was very clear by the look the shadowsinger was giving him that he was pleading for a moment alone with you - Where are you from? Never saw you around here.

- What do you mean? I've been working in the library since your father died. You sent a letter saying I should work here.

- WHAT? - Azriel's voice came in a shout, a good part of the group that formed around you decided to finally disperse back into the party.

- You guys... don't… know? - Your eyes going through the spymaster to the High Lord while they talked mind to mind.

- Let me take you to the healing quarters, we'll talk more there - You finally accepted the hand he extended to you, being instantly winnowed to a different room.

You watch as he start to search for something in the various cabinets, rushing over pots and flasks until he found what he was looking.

- Azriel? - His back is turned to me when his shoulders start to shake.

- I thought you were dead - It's the first thing he said before turning back to you, his eyes red and filled with tears.

- What do you mean dead? And why doesn't Rhysand know I work for him? It's been five hundred years, how could he not know who I am? - The words flashed out of your mouth as easily as they used to do. As easy as it used to be with him.

- I helped Rhys' father to find another court for you to work in for when he died. Everything was a mess and you didn't knew if you would still work here, and I knew you weren't, I helped Rhysand's father find a house and a job and everything else there. When Rhysand solved everything out and sent his father's last letters I went to search for you in the Winter Court, where you were supposed to be and you weren't there - His eyes traveled through all your face, taking you in as much as you used to do after all of his missions - I searched for you everywhere, in every court. I thought you were dead.

- I was here the whole time - You felt his scarred hand hold your face as he tilted your chin so he could work easily, applying something in your nose to stop the blood from flooding even more - I received a letter signed by the High Lord putting me to work in the library and after some years I received another one saying it was now my job to help the other girls set in.

- No, that job was supposed to go to the headmaster of the library - He said when pulling a cup of tea from the side table, a cup you didn’t even see appearing.

- Yes, me. I am the headmaster of the library. How could any of you know this? - His eyes started searching for any kind of lie in you and then he looked at you apologizing for this, but you didn't feel offended. You knew him.

- Your name it's not in the records. The headmaster of the library it's named Iris - Your head snaps up at him, shock filling every fiber of your body as everything starts to make sense in your head. You let go of the cup of tea still full of the hot beverage as the tears start to finally run down freely on your face. You feel Azriel’s hand hold your face to him as his expression starts to express panic. And oh, gods, how you missed his hands - What happened, is something aching?

- It's part of the Project Flora - You shake your head and incline your face to lie down on his hand, feeling his fingers start to caress your cheek - He knew his death would come from the Spring's fucker, and we planned how to send every person that worked for him away so that no one could try and get information from them. The idea was to basically make all of them disappear without knowing they would be disappearing so that they wouldn't smell of fear every time anyone looks for them. I didn't know I was being included in that too, which is the whole idea, not knowing you went missing. I should've known, by the Mother - Your tears start to flow again and Azriel’s body crashes against yours in the tightest hug you felt in years. Everything in him seemed perfect for you, his smell, his body, his thoughts. He was as perfect for you as you were for him.

- I'm sorry I didn't search enough. You were living right under me and I never thought - He takes a deep breath, taking you into his arms again and finally feeling that sensation of home he so longed for.

- It's not your fault. It's kinda mine, actually - He goes back a little to look at your face asking for answers - It was my idea to also make a sort of spell and make everyone undetectable. Weird how my brain is so smart isn't it? - His laughter fills the room and he takes your face into his hands again. You really missed his laugh.

- I missed you so much, you have no idea - He whispered as his face got down into yours and touched your nose with his.

- I may have an idea because I felt the exact same - He smiled at you again, finally understanding that yes, you were there, you were both together and united again. The nostalgia hitting in every tear that slided in both of your faces.

- What about that, honey pot? What are your feelings about a date now? - His question made you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

- What about Gwyn’s birthday party? - He looks around as if searching for someone.

- She makes birthdays every year. I don't re-encounter the love of my life every day - He whispered as a secret in your ear.

- So am I the love of life?

- No one else could be - His face approached yours again.

- Not Morrigan? - You ask in a sudden - Or Elain?

- What kind of gossip have you heard in that library? - He kisses you once, fast and curious as to test you out - So, what do you say about our date? Want to run away with me now?

- Maybe, if you don't call me honey pot ever again - He laughs and throws his head back.

- Deal. I can think of something better - He fully kisses you. His lips crashed into yours and your hands flew to his head to grip those dark soft locks of his, desperate for any kind of touch you could get from him

- I may be a little too not over you, Azriel Shadowsinger - You say as you both finally get away from each other to get air back into your lungs.

- I may be a little too not over you too, dearest love of my life - As you heard him addressing you the same way he used to write for you in the letters, nothing was rest to do as you kissed him again, pouring all the love and joy you kept inside of your heart for him for over five hundred years.

You both had so much yet to talk about, but any conversation could wait a little bit more. You both waited five hundred years to finally find each other again, words had no place in that happiness bubble. And suddenly, everything seemed easy again

[siremasterlawrence]

Hijacked: Brothers

Ben, Austin and Tom are proud to be mine in no way would they ever want to be released from me and are sworn to serve me for life in this world.Apparently his entire gang has occupied a huge area surrounding the full area of the wooden forest because it is a wondrous kingdom. I step onto scene as everyone slept leaving me a bit perplex as I hope to God this is not a cult of anything like that but soon enough we stood infront of his home.He kicks the door to the side lifting me up in his arms carrying me into his own personal thrown room and then leaves me for a bit to set it all up.What I did not expect is to see the home is built like a mansion in the woods with giant a mass of rooms to fit many people and I knew it is why I think it is. He smirks a bit returning with a glass of cold beer, the bottle to boot in his hand as he is in a sweet mood and the sensation is over taking him. Kneeling right in front of him he holds his cup up in excitement lifting it for me as he prepares to give me a speech and it is awesome. He gives me a cheer as we click glasses up together is that we are working together in a symbiosis of what we will build together for life. I take a sip as I can see him fantasize being in my mouth, wanting all of the action I am able to provide and he wish to taste every inch of my body. “Oh my Master!” He is into swearing to design to serve me for a lifetime of happiness and craving to submit to me for a lifetime.

Every member of the gangs rolls out at my slaves announcement of me become the new leader of this gang and how we would revolutionize this. They all hate me instantly snapping both of my fingers in the air as it collects swooping the entire area and with that leaving all of them shook to the core. Tom has had enough of this bullshit walking toward the man asshole antagonizing the tough rebellion and he grabs Chris yanking him to the side. Chris is disbelief as Tom in his glorious ways punches him in the gut laying him down and beating tar out of himand looks at me with love as the air swoops into their noses. Chris can’t help himself doing his best to be able to match me on my every move getting ever closer to me with such intensity and very soon it is upon me. He freezes in time unable to do anything but be at my whim as I walk downward to him as stand right in front of him and peer deep into his eyes. His breath is so sweet filling both of my odd enhanced nostrils picking it up sensing he will be a great addition and begin to place my hand on his chest. Immediately he came back to life with an inherent lengthy breath as he blows it out heavily relinquishing all of his control to me forever. Blowing air into his air following it up with a kiss siding down to his neck as he fell under my powers and he succumb so easily barely putting up a fight.

“Can you comprehend my power?”

“I’m at your will”

“Explain”

“Command me sire”

“Go on”

“I am at your will”

“Kneel before me “

“I hate this”

“That’s a lie”

“No!”

“I can detect your bullshit “

“Liar! I am not responding to it”

“Yet! Your back betrays you”

“You are pure evil”

“Am I?”

“Stop lying”

“I am your man”

“No…I…I…love…you”

“So much better”

“Why do I feel so relieved?”

“Because you have no worries “

“You are my property “

“Yes my king”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“My eyes are your focal point “

“Yours are the soul to the window “

“You know I am right “

“Accept it”

“Surrender to it”

“You have fallen it’s over “

“Why is my brother kissing you?”

“Fuck off bro!”

“WHAT?”

“Back Off!”

“Dad would be…”

“Zip it!”

“May I?”

“Please!”

“Bro…noooo”

“Release me”

“You will submit!”

“PLEASE! HELP ME!”

“Tie him up”

“What are you designing me?”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“Leave us be”

“Of course “

“I am taking you over “

“Don’t touch me”

“Sssshhh”

“I do as I want “

“Fuck you “

“Take my hand “

“Now feel and watch your mind begin to change.”

“My god”

“My world”

“My love “

“Uuuugghhh”

“I love you “

“No worries boi”

“Luke…sssssh”

“Sleep”

“Yes Master!

The end

[winchesterwild78]

Chance Meeting pt 20

Chance Meeting Master list

18+ Minors DO NOT interact

Please be kind and all mistakes are my own. All work is mine. Please don’t take or copy it.

Warnings: Fluff, Anxiety, pregnancy, SMUT, tension

A/N: lots of things happening in this chapter. Our lovebirds are moving forward with their lives and Ashley is hanging over their heads still. I edited this quickly, so please overlook any errors.

———————————————————————

About a month later you and Jensen were waiting to hear back from the police and his attorney about Ashley and the baby. Since the incident that landed you in the hospital you haven’t heard from her and she’s not been around. You were cautiously optimistic you wouldn’t hear from her.

Jensen insisted you two moved forward with the wedding plans. “Y/N I want nothing more than to marry you. I don’t want her to cast a shadow over our relationship and our marriage. Let’s set a date and start planning.” He said taking your hand. You smiled and shook your head yes. He cupped your face and kissed you softly.

“You know the area better than I do, where would you want to have the wedding” you asked him. “Honestly if you’re okay with it I was thinking the brewery. It has plenty of space and the area is beautiful. We can have the ceremony outside and the reception inside.” He said with a little hesitation. “It’s your choice though. I don’t care where we get married as long as I get to marry you.” He said with a smile. “Honey, it’s not just my choice. This is OUR wedding and I want us both to make the important decisions” you said kissing his lips. “So, has the brewery ever hosted a wedding before” you asked. “No, but it’s something we’ve always wanted to do.” Jensen said looking at you. “Well, let’s do it then. Our wedding being there will be a perfect opportunity to show how beautiful a wedding there could be. I’m sure people will try to book it for their wedding before we can even say I do.” You said laughing.

“I swear you’re an angel, Y/N. Even though this is our wedding you’re still thinking about other people’s happiness and livelihood. I love you so much.” Jensen said kissing your lips. “I love you too baby” you said.

So what time of year were you thinking” you asked. “How about tomorrow” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Well since it’s going to be outside I say we have it closer to Fall so it will be a bit cooler.” You said. “How about the day we met in October? What about October 12th” he said. “That’s perfect and we will never forget the date” you said winking at him. It was mid February so you felt like you had plenty of time to plan. You also were hoping the baby situation would be resolved before then. “So now all that’s left for us to do is tell our families we’ve set a date and start planning. I hope Gen can help as much as possible” you said. “Babe, is this gonna be a suit and tie kinda wedding or nice shirt and slacks” Jensen asked. “I think more casual and laid back. I have a dress idea in mind so that would fit perfectly with the theme. You can wear a simple shirt and slacks. No need to wear a suit and be uncomfortable.” You said laying your head on his shoulder. “I love that idea sweetheart. Keeping it laid back and comfortable is going to be so great.” He said.

You started texting family and friends letting them know you’ve set a date. Gen offered to help with anything you needed. As you’re texting Jensen’s phone rang. He answered it and you could tell from his end of the conversation it was his attorney. “Yes, oh that’s great. Yeah I can be there soon. Okay, yeah. See you then” he said before he hung up. You looked at him and he looked a little nervous. “So they have Ashley in custody and they have the DNA from the baby. They need me down at the hospital to give a DNA sample to see if I’m the father.” He said looked at you. Your heart was beating fast and panic started rising through your body. You spoke softly “okay. Go to the hospital so we can find out if the baby is yours or not. We need to know no matter the outcome.” You looked at him and tears pricked your eyes. You knew he didn’t betray you, but this situation still hurt. Jensen walked over to you and pulled you into his strong arms. Rubbing your back he kissed your head. “I love you so much, and whatever the outcome that’s not going to change it. Come with me please.” He said as he kissed you. You nodded yes and started to get ready to leave.

You sent Gen a text to let her know what was going on. She told you she’d meet you at the hospital if you needed her and you said you were fine, but thank you. The ride to the hospital was quiet. Tension crackling in the air. Jensen was nervous. His leg kept bouncing as he drove. You just stared out the window trying not to cry. Jensen pulled into the hospital and parked. He took your hand and held you as the two of you walked in the hospital. His attorney met you two at the entrance and took you to the lab. Once in the lab they swabbed the inside of his cheek gathering as much DNA as they could. The lab technician told Jensen there was a rush put on the test and the results should be back in a few hours. Jensen thanked them and walked out.

You stood and he took your hand. “They said it should be a few hours before we know.” He said walking out with you. “Okay, hopefully we hear something soon.” You said nervously. “Is she still here at the hospital” you asked his attorney. “Yeah, she has to stay for observation after the procedure for at least a night. She’s guarded so she’s not going anywhere.” The attorney said. “Jensen, I want to go talk to her.” You said looking at him. “Are you sure” he asked you. You nodded yes. He asked his attorney if it was okay and he said he didn’t see why not. The three of you returned to the hospital and you rode the elevator to the floor she was on.

Stepping off the elevator your stomach was doing flips. You were nervous but you needed to speak to her. Jensen held your hand as you approached the door. The police officer and Jensen’s attorney talked for a second and then they motioned you towards them. “You ready sweetheart” Jensen asked walking towards the door. You shook your head yes. Jensen pushed open the door and you heard the fetal monitor and heard the rapid heartbeat of the baby. A lump formed in your throat.

Ashley looked up and saw Jensen first. “Oh my god. You came back to me. I knew you loved me and you would do the right thing” she said smiling at him. Then you stepped out from behind him. Her eyes narrowed and she hissed “what the hell is she doing here”. “I’m here to talk to you. Jensen and I have talked and if this baby is his then he will step up and be there for him. Any decisions about him will be left up to the both of you. However, you will have to respect me as his wife and our family. I will respect you as the baby’s mother, but you will not try to put a wedge between Jensen and I. It’s not going to work. If you can’t respect that then we will have no choice but to set up a visitation arrangement where someone else brings the child to Jensen.” You told her standing between her and Jensen. You weren’t going to let her intimidate you.

She huffed at you and said fine. Ashley looked at Jensen and said “hey Jens do you want to feel him kick” You cringed when she called him Jens. He looked at her and then at you. “Honey if you want to you can. It’s fine” you said offering him a soft smile. “Ashley, I think it’s better if I don’t. I want to know if the child is mine before I start getting involved” Jensen said looking at her. You thought to yourself “oh thank god”. You felt horrible for thinking it, but the thought of him touching her made you sick to your stomach. She pouted but didn’t push him.

“Honey, we need to leave. We’ve got plans tonight” you said wrapping your arm around his. He leaned in and kissed your head. “We will talk to you later Ashley. Once we get the results we’ll be in touch” you said looking at her. “Have a good night and get some rest” Jensen said. “Bye Jens. We love you” She said rubbing her belly. You gripped his arm tightly and walked towards the door.

Once outside the room you let out the breath you had been holding. Jensen pulled you into his arms and held you tight. You sobbed. So overwhelmed with seeing her, hearing the heartbeat and scared the baby is his. The possibility seemed to be better than you thought. You were scared. Even though he said it wouldn’t change anything you knew it would. You would have to put up with the woman who assaulted you for the sake of the child. You wanted her out of your lives. Now it seemed like she was there for the rest of your lives.

Once you calmed down you and Jensen left the hospital and headed home. The drive home was quiet. Jensen nervously bit his lip and you sat staring out the window. When you got home you both walked the house and kicked off your shoes. You both collapsed on the couch. Jensen took you in his arms and you laid your head on his chest. “We’re going to get through this together baby. I promise. I love you and I intend on spending the rest of my life showing you how much I do.” He kissed your lips. First it was soft and gentle. Then he kissed you deeply and the kiss became more passionate.

His hands tugged at the hem of your shirt and then under it. You gasped at his touch. His hands roamed up and over your breasts. He pulled your bra down and rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your head flew backwards and you let out a loud moan.

You helped him remove your shirt and he unhooked your bra exposing your breasts to the chilly air. He removed his shirt and you straddled him. You moved your hips down onto him. Jensen’s hands ran down your back and pulled you into a kiss. As he pulled away he bit your bottom lip. You moaned. You stood and removed your pants and soaking wet panties. Jensen removed his pants and boxers exposing his hard cock. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at him. You straddled him again and used a hand to help guide him through your folds. You slowly slid down his shaft as you felt yourself stretching around him. Jensen and you moaned as you pushed down all the way. You put your hands on the back of his neck and he dug his fingers into your hips. You began bouncing up and down taking him in as deep as you could. The sounds of moaning and flesh hitting flesh filled the air. Jensen quickly turned and laid you on the couch and began thrusting deeper into you. You reached your hand between you and Jensen and started rubbing your clit. You felt the coil tightening and your walls clenching around Jensen. His thrusts got deep and fast helping you chase your release. “Jens I’m close” you panted out. “I know darlin, I am too. Cum for me” he said as he quickened his pace. Your walls clenched as you came hard. Jensen followed you and came deep inside. Grunts and moans echoed through the house. As you both came down from your high Jensen got up and grabbed a washcloth to clean you both up. He laid beside you on the couch and kissed you softly.

“I love you Y/N” Jensen whispered. “I love you too, Jensen” you said as you snuggled into his arms. Being in his arms you felt safe and truly loved. Jensen grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and covered the both of you. He started rubbing your back as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You breathed in taking in his intoxicating smell. You both sighed softly and you giggled a little. Jensen smiled.

Jensen pulled you as close as he could and the two of you laid in the comfortable silence that fell in the house. You closed your eyes starting to drift off to sleep when the silence was broken by the ringing of the phone. Jensen growled and pulled you close. You giggled “babe you need to answer your phone. It could be important”. He sighed and sat up grabbing his phone. He looked at the caller ID and shot you a look. The look sent a flood of panic through you. You sat up pulling the blanket over your body. Jensen answered the phone. “Yes this is he. Okay. Yes I understand. Okay, so it’s accurate. Right, will you let the attorneys involved know.” His end of the conversation instantly told you the results were in. His face was stone. No emotion and no indication of what the results were. Your heart beat so fast you heard it thumping in your ears. You felt nauseous and a lump formed in your throat watching him. Jensen thanked the person on the phone and hung up. Your y/c/e eyes met his and he bit his lip. “Um, that was the lab. The DNA results are back.” He said looking at you. You tried to study his expression but he was unreadable. You took his hand and said “Jens, remember we are in this together. Whatever the results we will deal with this together.” You said on the verge of tears. Jensen took a deep breath “the results are….

To be continued………

Forever tags: @nescaveckdaily @nescaveckwriter @kr804573 @jensengirl83 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373

[newtthetranswriter]

Can you write mitsuya fluff, thx 😊

Word count: 777

Summary: It's a rare night where you and Mitsuya get to relax, so you spend it watching movies. The night ends with a cute little duet.

Paring: Takashi Mitsuya x gender neutral reader

A/n: Thank you for requesting. I know It's short but I couldn’t think of much, but listening to my Disney playlist gave me this idea. I hope you enjoy, remember to hydrate or diedrate, and enjoy your REQUEST ARE OPEN

    It was a rare night that both me and Takashi were completely free to do whatever we wanted. Normally we would either have a Toman meeting or Takashi would have to watch his sisters. But today was one of the few nights his mom was able to watch the young girls, giving us a night to finally relax. We decided to spend the evening at my house because my parents were out of town and it limited the chance of interruptions.

    We just wanted to enjoy the night so we decided on a relaxing movie night. Taking turns picking the movies made for some interesting genre changes. He picked first and we ended up watching the first Star Wars movie, directly following that I picked Moana. It was a back and forth of Star Wars and random Disney movies. We are about five movies in and it’s my turn to pick the sixth movie. And I have the best one in mind.

     “Ok it’s your turn, what movie this time?” He asked, handing me the remote. “And I swear if you play Frozen I’m leaving and taking the pizza with me.” He said with a straight face as I opened the search feature on the tv. As I finally found the movie I was looking for, I heard him groan slightly. “I take it back, Frozen is great, please I'm not singing along with you.” I couldn’t help but smile, he knew me too well sometimes.

     “Come on, but you fit the part so well. You’re a delinquent who showed me the world and I helped to soften your tough exterior.” I said explaining my thought process. “Plus I love Tangled, and it’s this or The Nightmare before Christmas, and since it’s nearly February I dare say it's not the best time for the pumpkin king.” I said playing the movie.

     He sighed and begrudgingly agreed, though I could see he was happy seeing me happy. I set the remote down on the coffee table and then leaned back to cuddle up to him.

     As the movie went on I sang along with all of the songs, while Takashi just watched me enjoying the fact that I was having fun. I couldn’t help but get excited as my favorite song from the film started to play. I stood up ready to sing my heart out, I was surprised to see Taka join me in front of the tv.

     And so as Repunzel started singing, I sang along.

“All those days watching from the windows

All those years outside looking in

All that time never even knowing

Just how blind I've been

Now I'm here blinking in the starlight

Now I'm here suddenly I see

Standing here it's all so clear

I'm where I'm meant to be

And at last I see the light

And it's like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything looks different

Now that I see you” 

     There was a pause in the song and Takashi grabbed my hands, before his part started.

“All those days chasing down a daydream

All those years living in a blur

All that time never truly seeing

Things, the way they were

Now she's here shining in the starlight

Now she's here suddenly I know

If she's here it's crystal clear

I'm where I'm meant to go”

     I couldn’t contain my smile as I joined back in for the rest of the song.

“And at last I see the light

And it's like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything is different

Now that I see you

Now that I see you”

     As the song ended we leaned in to give each other a gentle kiss. We moved back to the couch to finish the movie, unable to wipe the smiles off our faces. Even if he acted like he didn’t like Disney movies, I know he enjoyed watching them with me. 

     “Thank you Takashi, it means a lot that you did that with me.” I said cuddling closer to his side.

     He pulled me as close to him as possible before kissing the crown of my head. “OfCourse, I’d do anything for you, love. I love you so much.”

     I smiled, looking up at him. “I love you too.” I said before letting out a small yawn, falling asleep against his side.