#ROUND 2 WILL BE UP IN THE NEXT FEW DAYS!!!!!

[sequinsmile-x]

Hide Beside Me

Emily shares her oldest secret with Aaron. A few years later, that secret resurfaces.

Part 3/3 (Part 1, Part 2)

-x-

Hi besties <3

Thanks so much for all the love on this fic, it truly means the world. I really hope you like this last part.

Fair warning, I made myself cry when writing this - and I could count on one hand the number of times that's happened in 375 fics.

I hope you like this, and please, always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy, teen pregnancy, abortion, adoption, forced adoption

Words: 5.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She invites Rebecca to come over to the house just three days after she unexpectedly showed up on the doorstep and back into Emily’s life.

Emily goes back and forth on it, wonders if seeing the evidence of the family she had, the children she’d kept, would be hard for her to take, but Aaron talks her down. Assures her if she had a problem with it she would have said something, especially since Rebecca had seen Rose and Issac and therefore knew Emily had kids. 

She finds herself watching the time, tapping the screen of her phone to illuminate it every time it goes black, seconds feeling like hours and minutes like days. The only thing that keeps her even vaguely grounded is the picture of Jack, Rose and Issac as her wallpaper. It was a picture Aaron had taken in the hospital just 6 months ago when Issac was born. Jack and Rose were sitting next to each other, the little girl’s face pinched together in concentration as she listened carefully to Jack as he told her how to hold the baby lying across both their laps, Emily’s hand in the shot as she supported her newborn's head.

Emily sighs as she hears Aaron step into the living room, his familiar footfall a comfort until he comes to a stop and leans over the back of the couch to kiss the top of her head. 

“What if she doesn’t come?”

He kisses her head again, making sure he lingers this time, his hands squeezing her shoulders in a way he hopes she finds comfort in, “She got in touch with you, Em,” he says, “She wants to know you. She’ll come.” 

She hums, swallowing thickly as she tries to push down everything she isn’t sure she wants to feel, “What if…” 

He rounds the couch and sits next to her as she drifts off, hooking his thumb under her chin to encourage her to look up at him, “What if what, sweetheart?” 

She smiles tightly, her lips pressed together to stop the shake to them as they hear a car pull up onto the driveway, her hand seeking his out to link their fingers together, “What if I’m a disappointment to her? Depending on how long she’s known about me, she might have been building the thought of me up for years.” 

He hates what this has done to her, how a decision her mother and other adults had made without including her long before he’d ever known her had torn down her confidence like this. He pushes it away, knowing she doesn’t need the anger he felt on her behalf, certainly not now when she was on the brink of getting to know the child she’d had to give away. She needed his love. His support. The reminder of all that she had now. 

And those were things he would make sure she always had in abundance. 

“That’s just not possible,” he says, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, letting her sink against him when they hear footsteps on the steps leading up to the porch, “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. She’ll see that too.” He says, and she smiles, something that fades when the doorbell rings, “Want me to get the door?” 

She shakes her head and presses her forehead against his, trying to take some of his strength through osmosis one last time before she stands up.

“I can do it,” she says, wiping lint that isn’t there from the thighs of her jeans as she stands up, desperate to keep her hands busy so she doesn’t tear her cuticles up or twist her wedding rings around so much she’d risk losing them. When she makes it to the door, she blows out a breath and gives herself a moment, her hand tight around the door handle before she opens it, her smile shaky as she stands back, “Rebecca, hi. Come in.” 

Rebecca smiles at her, her expression equally as shaky, her hands tight around the handles of her purse as it hung over her shoulder, “Thank you,” she says, looking around as she steps into the house, turning to look at her when she closes the door, “You have a lovely home.” 

“Thank you,” Emily says, as she leads her towards the living room, heaving in a deep breath as they walk towards Aaron. His eyebrows raise as he looks at the two of them together, the resemblance uncanny apart from Rebecca’s blonde hair, and it takes him aback for a moment, leaves him frozen on the spot until Emily clears her throat and draws him out of it, “This is my husband, Aaron,” her breath is shaky as she carries on, “Aaron…this is Rebecca.” 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, “Would you like something to drink?” 

She smiles, his wife’s smile, “A coffee would be great.” 

“Coffee it is,” he squeezes Emily’s shoulder, “The usual, sweetheart?” 

She smiles up at him and nods, “Yes, please.” 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

He leaves the room, and Emily realises she and Rebecca are still both standing up. She points towards the couch, “Please sit down,” she says, and she sits when Rebecca does, making sure to put space between them, to not cross any boundaries the other woman may have in place. She’s sure if she touched her, if she hugged her, she’d never want to let go. 

“So,” Rebecca says, her eyes fixed on the door Aaron had walked out of, “Is Aaron my…”

It takes a second for what she’s asking, the question she can’t finish, to register and Emily shakes her head, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, “No, he’s not. We met at work,” she says, “Your…he’s called John. I’m not in touch with him, but I have his contact information if you want it.” 

Rebecca smiles, a sad tinge to it as she looks down at her hands, “Thanks. I’ll let you know if I want it.” 

The silence between them is thick. Not uncomfortable, or tense, but full of everything they both want to say even though neither of them know where to start. Emily clears her throat, feeling a sense of responsibility to go first, a weight that was heavy on her chest as she looks across at the woman whose face she’d spent the best part of her life trying to picture. 

“Do your parents know you’ve come to see me?” She asks, oddly okay with referring to other people as her parents. She was her mother. She’d brought her into the world and loved her ever since, but she wasn’t her parent. She’d never been given the chance to be. 

“They know,” Rebecca says, smiling properly, her dimples making their first appearance, “They actually encouraged me to do this,” she stops for a moment when Aaron steps into the room and passes her a cup of coffee and Emily a cup of tea. Rebecca thanks him as he sits next to Emily and places his hand on her knee, “I’ve always known I was adopted.” 

Emily furrows her brow at that, not sure if she was relieved or not by the revelation, “Oh?” 

Rebecca nods, her grip tight on the mug in her hands, “As long as I’ve been old enough to know what it means, I’ve known,” she says, “Mom and Dad struggled to have kids, which is why they adopted me. Then a few years later they had my brother naturally,” she laughs when she says it, in-jokes with her family that Emily wasn’t party to shining in her eyes, “Even if my parent’s hadn’t been upfront about it all I think I would have caught on eventually, they all have blue eyes and blonde hair,” she tucks some of her dyed hair behind her ear as she says it, “I’ve never known anyone who looks like me, until now,” she looks up at Emily and then around the room, her eyes catching on family photos hanging on the wall, “It’s weirdly unsettling,” she jokes, drawing a laugh out of both Emily and Aaron. “I’ve had a good life. And loving parents. I…on the way here I was thinking of what I’d want to know if I were you, and that’s the thing I kept thinking of.” 

Emily blows out a breath, her vision going blurry as she tries to stop the tears from falling, her eyes burning with them, “I’m glad. I’m really glad.” 

“I also think it’s important you know I’ve never been mad at you, or angry,” she says, tears filling her eyes too, “I’ve also always known you were young when you had me,” she smiles sadly, “When I turned 15 it was the first thing I thought about. And every year since it’s just felt younger than the year before. You did the best thing you could.” 

Emily grips Aaron’s hand, her grip on him so tight he feels his knuckles knock together, and she sucks in a shaky breath, tears that she immediately wipes away slipping past her lashline.

“Thats…thank you.” She wasn’t aware how much she’d needed to hear it from Rebecca herself until she did. A burden she’d carried for years suddenly lighter, a space in her chest she hadn’t known existed opening up so she could breathe a little deeper, “What made you come looking for me?” 

Rebbeca sucks in a deep breath, “That’s…a bit of a crazy story.” 

“Oh, if you don’t want to-”

“No, I want to,” she assures her, cutting over Emily’s panicked retraction of her question, “I just…” she looks between the two of them, “Don’t want to upset you.” 

Emily furrows her brows, confusion and something close to dread flooding through her, her cheeks burning with it as she leans into Aaron’s side, “You can tell me. I won’t be upset, I promise.” 

Rebecca sucks in a breath, “I always thought about it. I wanted to know more about where I came from than the small amount of information my parents were given from the place where I was born. But I also never wanted to intrude on your life,” she tucks some of her hair behind her ear again, drawing attention to her torn-up cuticles, “I was well aware I could be nothing but a reminder of the worst part of your life. And then…I saw an obituary for you in the paper.” 

Emily gasps, her eyes screwed shut as she clenches her jaw, “Oh, god. I’m…” she clears her throat and looks up at her, “That’s so complicated. I’m so sorry.” 

Rebecca shakes her head, “Please don’t apologise. As soon as I saw it, I regretted never reaching out to you. I grieved everything we could have had. I moved forward,” her smile turns sad, “I probably paid for my therapist's vacation that year with the number of sessions I had,” she looks down at her hands, and Emily is grateful for it, grateful for a moment to wipe away a tear, to shift impossibly closer to Aaron, his hold her as tight as she’d ever known it to be, “And I learnt how to be okay with it all. Then, a few weeks ago I saw a picture of you in the paper. At first, I thought it was a memorial-type thing, but then I read the article. It was about a case at Interpol and you were the spokesperson. It felt like a second chance. So I came to find you.” 

Emily nods, her chest aching with the sobs she was keeping in there, emotions she wouldn’t set free until it was just her and Aaron in the house, “I’m glad you did. I’m so glad you did. And one day…if you want, I’ll explain all of that to you,” she offers her a half smile, “Or at least, as much as I legally can.” 

Rebbeca smiles before she presses her lips together, a question she’d had for years on the tip of her tongue. 

“Did you ever think of looking for me?” She asks, and Emily feels Aaron squeeze her hand, a brief moment of comfort as he continues to be a silent bystander, understanding the support she needs without her even having to ask for it. 

“I did,” she replies, “I wrote letters at first, when I was still a teenager, but my mom kept having them intercepted. For a long time I just…pretended it all happened to someone else because it was easier,” she answers honestly, “And then, when I finally felt able to look for you it felt selfish. I didn’t want to intrude on anything.” 

It’s half the truth, the other half feeling too complicated to explain. By the time she was working for Interpol, she decided to leave Sophia, Rebecca, alone to keep her safe. Well aware that if anyone knew of her existence it could be used against her. It was a decision she stood by when Ian eventually would hunt her down, glad he had no idea of her biggest secret other than him, that whilst she’d failed everything else she’d been able to keep her daughter safe. Even if she had ended up grieving for her despite never knowing her. 

Rebecca nods, “I can understand that. You’d have always been welcome though,” she says, smiling, “Mom and Dad want to meet you, if you’d like. Eventually. And my girlfriend,” her smile gets wider, “When I told them you have kids, that I have little brothers and a sister, they all got really excited. But I want to get to know you first.” 

It sparks hope deep in her chest, but she doesn’t quite allow it to catch yet. Rebecca wanted to know her. To have this be more than just one meeting to answer some questions, “I’d like that,” she says, turning to look at Aaron for a moment before she looks back at Rebecca, “We’d like that.” 

“They aren’t here?”

“The kids?” Emily asks, and Rebecca nods in response, “No, they are with their Aunt Jess today,” she says, “But I’d love you to meet them if you want to.”

She’d have to explain first, and figure out a way of making it appropriate for Jack and Rose, Issac being too young to understand it at all. If Rebecca was going to be in her life, in their lives, Emily wanted it to be as her daughter. Not wanting more secrets and lies to cloud her life now it was as clear as it had ever been. 

Rebecca nods, “Of course I’d love to,” she smiles, “What are their names?” 

“Jack is our eldest,” Emily says, not feeling the need to explain any further than that right now. Jack’s history was his to share, and he’d taken to introducing her as his mom to new friends lately, no longer explaining that she was his stepmom. When she’d asked him about it, he said he preferred it this way. That whilst he loved his mom, and he missed her and always would, he hated being the kid whose mom had died, that it was a label that never went away, “And then we have Rose and Issac who you saw the other day.” 

“They’re adorable.” 

“Thank you,” Emily says, “We think so too. Do you have any other questions? I’ll answer anything.”

“Just one, for now,” Rebecca says, placing her cup of coffee down, “And I know it sounds juvenile, but I’ve wanted to ask you this for years,” she stands up, and steps towards her, her arms awkward at her side as they twitch, and Emily knows what she’s going to say before she says it, and she makes a point of passing her cup of tea to Aaron in preparation, “Can I have a hug?” 

Emily’s on her feet in an instant, the crack in Rebecca’s voice making her want to do nothing other an cross the gap between them, “Of course you can.” 

She pulls her into a hug, and it’s like two things are happening at once. She’s 15 again, holding her baby tight, desperately trying to remember everything about her, whispering a lifetime of love against her forehead as she counted down the seconds until she had to let go. She’s also 45, hugging her 30-year-old daughter, the once tiny baby now slightly taller than her, a grown woman who had lived a whole life without her. Everything was different - including the fact that this time when she let her go, it wouldn’t be the last time she got to hold her. 

What she doesn’t know until later, is that Aaron takes a picture of them wrapped up in each other’s embrace. Their arms tight around each other, tears on both of their faces as they try and take in as much as they both could after a lifetime of separation. 

He prints it for her and hangs it on the wall amongst the rest of their family photos, a sign of the start of a new beginning she’d convinced herself she’d never get. 

___

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” 

Emily smiles as she turns to look at her husband, Issac on his hip as they both stand in the foyer of their home. She walks over and kisses Issac’s forehead and then Aaron’s lips, “I think I need to do this part myself, honey,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “This is a conversation I’ve needed for years.” 

He sighs, clearly holding back his disagreement, his dislike of her mother’s treatment of her not something he was shy about, “If she says anything-”

“I’ll call you and you can come over and yell at her,” she promises him, kissing him one more time, “If Rebecca…she’s going to be in our lives. I’m not going to pretend she isn’t mine to anyone,” she swallows thickly, “And that starts with talking to my mother about her.” 

They’d never discussed it. Not once. When Emily met her in Russia, still wearing a diaper and pads in her bra whilst her milk dried up, Elizabeth hadn’t said anything. She’d acted like her daughter had been at a summer school, nothing more, and they carried on as if nothing had happened. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her, “We’ll be here when you get back.” 

She nods, blowing out a shaky breath as she kisses Issac, pressing her forehead against his temple, “I wouldn’t be mad if you ignored bedtime tonight.”

Aaron smiles, already having planned on letting the kids stay up, no matter how much it would mess with their routine for one night, knowing Emily would need to see them, to hold them, when she got home. 

“Consider it done.” 

The drive to her mother’s house has never felt quicker. Traffic was frustratingly on her side, each light green as she wishes for the journey to drag out, wanting more time to figure out what she wants to say. 

Elizabeth is surprised to see her when she arrives, but only makes one comment about being busy, a mercy that Emily is sure doesn’t come from being able to read her body language. Her housekeeper brings them both a glass of wine as they make polite small talk, and Elizabeth eventually clears her throat. 

“So, what are you doing here, Emily?” She asks, her eyebrow raised at her, “It’s not like you to drop by unannounced.” 

Despite planning it all out in her head, any attempt to practise this conversation disappears in a second. She takes a sip of wine and then sucks in a breath, three words summing up how her life had changed so dramatically in the last couple of weeks. “She found me.” 

Elizabeth’s shoulders tighten, her grip on her wine glass briefly tighter as she takes a large sip, the gulp of it audible, cutting across the tense silence between mother and daughter, “Who did?” 

Emily presses her lips together, holding back 30 years worth of anger and swallowing it back down, knowing it would do no good to air it all now, “The baby you had taken away from me 30 years ago,” she says, staring at her mother as she looks down at the table to avoid her gaze, “She found me. Her name is Rebecca.” 

“Emily-”

“You never gave me a choice,” she says, cutting off whatever her mother was going to say, not sure she could take hearing it, “I wasn’t given a choice.”

“You made a choice when you had sex, Emily,” Elizabeth says, making Emily scoff and shake her head, “If Rose ever-”

“If God forbid Rose ever finds herself pregnant at 15, or 18 or hell even if it happens when she’s 30 and has an asshole for a partner who leaves her in the lurch, I will make sure she knows what all of her choices are,” she says, her jaw tight as she wipes away a stray tear, “And I’ll hold her hand through whatever she chooses to do,” she blows out a shaky breath and chokes on a sad laugh, “I always knew it was cruel when those people you sent me too ripped my baby away from me after a few minutes, even then I knew, but I only realised how cruel it was when I had Rose.” 

“Emily-”

“When they tried to take her from me, when they were simply trying to take her to the other side of the room to clean her off and weigh her I couldn’t let go. Aaron ended up having to promise me that he’d go over there with her and that he wouldn’t let her out of his sight. Did you know that?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, they both know it, because they’ve never talked about any of this before, “No. I didn’t.”

“When Rose was born she cried so loudly the doctor made a joke about it, and then when she laid her on my chest she stopped. We kind of just…looked at each other and she stopped crying. When she was on the other end of the room she was crying again, she only stopped when Aaron brought her back over to me and I just kept thinking…did Sophia cry when they took her away from me?” 

Elizabeth furrows her brow, “Sophia?” 

Emily sighs and swallows thickly, internally cursing herself for letting it slip, “Rebecca. Sorry. Sophia was…” she clears her throat, “That was the name I gave her.” 

“I didn’t know you did that.”

Emily smiles sadly, “Yeah, well. We’ve never spoken about it, have we?” 

“Why are you telling me all of this?” 

“Because we’re working towards being part of each other's lives more permanently,” she says, blowing out a breath, “And it will take some time to learn about each other, but we both want it. We both want to make up for lost time, and I will not lie to the world anymore. I won’t say she’s my cousin or my long-lost sister. She’s my daughter and that’s how I’ll introduce her to people.” 

Elizabeth’s eyes go wide, “Emily, what will people think?” 

She scoffs, “Other than question the fact you sent your daughter to a home that has been condemned in every way possible in the press since?” She shrugs, “I don’t care, Mom. I spent so long caring about what people would think of me. But she’s beautiful. And smart. And I’m proud of her, even if I don’t have any right to be. So I refuse to let shame take any more away from me than it already has,” she stands up and wipes tears from her cheeks, “You can carry on being a part of my family if you’d like. But I won’t hide her away to satisfy some old need of yours to maintain appearances.” 

She walks away, determined to leave, to get home to her family, but she’s stopped by her mother, “Emily.” 

She turns and sighs, “Yes, Mother?” 

“If she’s anything like you,” she says, clearing her throat, not able to look her in the eye, any softness between the two of them always hard for them both, so different to the sharp edges of their relationship that they were used to, “You have every right to be proud.” 

___

Six Months Later

The house is busting at the seams. 

She can hear all the conversation outside, the sound of it filtering through the open window in Issac’s room as she walks in, smiling when he’s stood up in his crib, his arms already up and waiting for her. 

“Mama!” 

“Hi Zaccy,” she says, walking over and lifting him into her arms. She kisses his cheek several times, chasing his precious laughter, “You know, as you get older, it’s not acceptable to take a nap in the middle of your own birthday party,” she says, settling him onto her hip, “So enjoy it whilst it lasts, sweet boy.” She couldn’t believe he was one. That her youngest baby was a toddler now, that he was close to walking and could say Mama and Dadda and a sound they think means Jack. Time had flown by too quickly for her liking, as it always did, and despite her age, and her insistence when she was pregnant with him that he’d be their last, she found herself wondering if maybe one more kid couldn’t be the end of the world. “Let’s go join the party, huh?” 

She walks downstairs with him in her arms, listening to his chatter as they go, and the doorbell rings as she makes it to the bottom of the stairs. She answers the door, her heart growing in her chest when she sees Rebecca and her girlfriend, Carrie, on the doorstep.

It still surprised her sometimes that she could do this. That her eldest could come to events like this and that she wanted to. 

Everyone knew about Rebecca now. When she told the team, the empathy and sympathy had been a little hard to take all at once. A wave of other people's emotions as they thought about what she’d been through exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. Aaron had kept her afloat. His arm around her shoulders as he answered most of their questions, as he held her tighter when Penelope tried to hug her, his expression clearly saying not now in a way she’d thankfully taken note of. They’d accepted Rebecca into their lives with open arms, making her another part of the family they’d built for themselves. 

“Hi,” Emily says, pulling Rebbeca into a hug first, and then Carrie, “I’m so glad you made it.” 

“Of course we did,” Rebbeca says, smiling when Issac reaches out and wraps his hand in her dark hair, “We wouldn’t miss Zac’s birthday, would we?” She tickles his belly and he reaches out for her, and she takes him, settling him on her hip. “Mom and Dad send their apologies,” she says, “But they also sent a massive gift for Zac.”

Emily smiles as she takes the offered gift bag, “I’ll make sure to text your mom to say thank you, they really didn’t have to get him anything.”

Rebecca chuckles, “I’ll leave you to have that conversation with her.” 

The first time she met Rebecca’s parents, Eleanor and John Mount, was as emotional as her first meeting with Rebecca. Eleanor had pulled her into a fierce hug, and held her close as if she was still the teenager who had given birth to their daughter, and John had done the same. They’d brought her a massive photo album, a book so heavy it had to be held with two hands, full of pictures of every moment of Rebecca’s life. 

She looked through it frequently, trying to commit everything she hadn’t been able to see happen to memory. Smiling as Aaron looked at it over her shoulder, never failing to comment on how much Rebecca looked like Rose when she was her age. 

“Everyone is in the back,” Emily says, ushering them in and closing the door behind them, the sight of her oldest and her youngest together something she wasn’t quite used to. 

Telling the kids about Rebecca, and who she was, was the part Emily had been scared of the most. Unsure how to tell them, how to answer questions she was sure they’d have, their curiosity that she usually loved bound to be her downfall. They’d taken in their stride. Jack was the one who understood the most being the oldest, and he’d been excited to meet Rebecca, claiming he’d always wanted a big sister. Emily wasn’t sure how much Rose understood, but she loved Rebecca too, and Emily knew there would eventually be a time when neither she nor Issac remembered life without her. 

In her worst moments, that made her jealous of her children. She wished she could only remember what it was like now - that the pain she’d gone through for decades wasn’t so visceral she could still feel it, but she knew she couldn’t undo anything. And that, if given the choice, she’s not sure she would. She didn’t believe in fate, and didn’t like to think that the universe was in charge of her life. She’d fought for what she had now. For the family she loved. And she wouldn’t want it to be any different than it was.

It was messy. Complicated. A picture made of broken pieces, glued back together with time and love and purpose. But it was hers, and because of that, it was beautiful. 

“Becca!”

They all turn to see Rose running towards them, her arms tight around Rebecca’s legs as she throws herself at her. Rebecca laughs and runs her fingers through her hair, “Hi Rosie-Posie.”

“Come play with us,” Rose demands, holding Rebecca’s spare hand, the other still securing Issac to her, and Carrie’s as she drags them towards the backyard. Emily watches them go, blowing out a slow breath as she twists her rings around her finger.

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

She turns to look at Aaron, smiling at the sight of him in their messy living room, bags of gifts and wrapping paper everywhere, “I’m okay,” she assures him, holding her hand out, her smile getting wider when he walks over and grabs it, linking his fingers through hers, “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have them all, and how lucky I am to have you.” 

He kisses her temple and they walk towards the backyard, “We’re the lucky ones.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, but her response is cut off when she hears laughter as they step out into the yard. Rebecca is sitting on one of the swings of their swing set, Issac on her lap as she gently swings them back and forth. Rose is on the swing next to her being pushed by Jack. She’s overwhelmed by it, by the image of all four of her kids together laughing and having fun. She’s about to ask Aaron to take a photo, her own phone somewhere inside the house, placed down as she tried to organise her son’s birthday party and all the food they’d made for their guests.  She doesn’t think she’s ever loved her husband more than when she sees he’s already doing it, taking dozens of pictures so she’d have a choice of her favourite. 

“Can you send those to me?” She asks, and he nods, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“Already on the way to you, sweetheart.” 

She squeezes his hand and goes in search of her phone. She sets one of the pictures as her wallpaper immediately, making sure she had a reminder every time she looked at her phone of what she had now. Of what she’d lost and regained. There were times when she wished more than anything she could speak to her 15-year-old self, that she could tell her everything would be okay in the end. That she’d know her daughter. That she’d have a family with the love of her life. Most of the time, she was glad that she couldn’t. Sure that the person she was now wouldn’t exist if she had known what was to come. 

The future was a gift to the young, the path laid out before them a mystery they must walk. 

“Mom,” Rebecca calls into the kitchen, her smile wide as her eyes meet Emily’s, “Rosie is demanding you join her on the swings.” 

She nods and looks down at her phone one more time before she tucks it into her pocket, “I’m coming, honey.” 

[thecharacterchronicler]

Mandrakes, dusty books & an apology (Part 3) || Sebastian Sallow || Smut

Outline: You’re still managing to hide your pregnancy, but jealousy and mood swings are complicating everything.

Warnings: aged up characters, friends with benefits, (accidental / secret) pregnancy, body insecurities/self deprecation, explicit smut

(( Part 1 - Exams, poltergeists & supply closets )) - (( Part 2 - Friends with benefits… & a baby ))

Your bad mood reached an all time high when you sat down at your station in Professor Garlick’s greenhouse, feeling far too exhausted to be gardening and the constant hunger you felt made you overly grumpy. Even Ominis knew better than to sit next to you, preferring a seat closer to where the teacher stood, next to Sebastian.

You couldn’t care less about your teacher’s monologue about mandrakes today, the enthousiasm and passion in her speech you usually loved was grating on your nerves lately, even more so when you noticed how Sebastian was very attentive to her .

It wasn’t a secret that that idiot had a big crush on your herbology professor, he had been very vocal about it for the past three years actually, always whispering inappropriate comments in Ominis’s ear or cracking vulgar jokes about it with Garreth. Habitually, you didn’t mind, knowing it was just harmless banter between him and the other guys. But with his baby growing inside you, you suddenly felt a bit too possesive to let him shamelessly stare at Professor Garlick’s beautiful face without feeling jealous.

It didn’t help that, as Sebastian so diplomatically put it this morning, you were becoming pretty huge. He wasn’t wrong, but a bit of tact would have been nice, especially considering the mood swings you had been dealing with since you entered your fourth month of pregnancy. He needed to be careful because the murderous rage you felt at times might as well backfire against him one day.

You caught yourself resting your hand over your round belly, an habit you couldn’t help but that unmistakably brought people’s attention to it. You didn’t expect your stomach to look like a basketball so early on, confident that you would be able to hide it under large clothes for at least until your last trimester but that baby sure seemed too big and too strong to go along with your plan. You knew it was now just a matter of time until one of your professors noticed and sent you to the headmaster’s office for a talk. For now, your winter clothes still did the trick, concealing your curves and making it seem reasonable to simply assume that you might have gone crazy on chocolates and sweets after Valentines’ day but in a short few weeks, it would be spring and then summer, and covering yourself up with thick wool shirts would no longer be an option.

“Now I’d like you to pair up and care for the plants.” Professor Garlick demanded and you sighed, louder than you meant to.

Sebastian still had his eyes glued to your lovely looking herbology teacher. No wonder it was one of the rare classes in which he struggled to keep his grades up, he was constantly distracted by the young professor instead. Maybe he was hoping to pair up with her for a special lesson, but it was Ominis who was chosen to change the mandrakes’ pots with her. You weren’t sure that it was a really fun task, but the boy who knocked you up sure looked disappointed to be missing out on this opportunity.

He walked to where you were sitting, resigned to pair up with you and you could not help but feel upset that you weren’t his first choice. You saw his warm brown eyes momentarily trace the curve of your belly, the panic you saw in his gaze when you had told him that you were pregnant always present on his face since then.

“What’s wrong ?” He asked you. Oh, how annoying that he was capable of reading the expressions on your face like an open book. “Is it the baby ?”

“No. The baby’s fine.” You answered, and the amount of relief that softened his features took you by surprise, making you realize how much he cared for your unborn child. His child.

“Then what is it ?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, focusing on the hungry Chinese chomping cabbages sprouts in front of you. Those were tricky to feed and required your full attention.

“By Merlin, what did I do this time ?” He asked, rolling his eyes. You glared at him for a moment, uncertain of how to feel. A part of you felt truly emotional from realizing how well he knew you but another part of you wanted to slap him in frustration. How could he be so unaware of his annoying behavior ?

“I’m just upset because you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

“I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have ! You didn’t even want to be paired up with me right now.” You snapped back, cautiously feeding one of the cabbages.

“I didn’t want to have to take care of these annoying little things, they are the worse…” He explained, not paying enough attention to the sprout next to him, visibly too eager to eat out of his hand to wait for Sebastian to focus on it, so he chomped down on his fingers. “Ouch !”

You looked away to hide your grin, the satisfaction you felt from the cabbage’s vicious attack was a nice reprieve for your bottled up anger and frustration.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Professor Garlick will take good care of you.” You eventually said, your tone so bitter that it spoke volumes of what the reason for your bad mood really was. You stood up and excused yourself, leaving the class early.

Sebastian stared at you in confusion as you walked out of the greenhouse, holding his bitten hand to his chest with a grimace of pain still lingering on his face.

“I messed up.” Sebastian declared, burying his face in his hands for a moment, unable to focus on the open book in front of him.

“That you did.” Ominis confirmed, his voice low enough to not be heard by anyone else.

“No, I mean today.” He clarified, trying to remember what he felt was important to write down in his notebook just a minute ago. “She’s clearly upset with me, she’s been avoiding me since our Herbology class this morning and I have no idea why.”

“I may have a few ideas, I can make you a list if you’d like.” Ominis retorted. Sebastian was about to counter with a witty comment but no words came out of his mouth when he saw you walk in the Great Hall with two large books in your arms.

He met your gaze and attempted to smile at you but you remained stoic and cold as you made your way to their table, sitting in front of both of your friends but only smiling at Ominis. Which wasn’t even fair since he couldn’t even enjoy such a lovely sight…

“Hey, Ominis.”

“Good afternoon.” He greeted you back, letting a moment of silence go by before leaning in towards Sebastian. “You’re right, she’s upset.”

“Oh, thanks for the heads up.” He groaned, sarcastically.

“My pleasure.”

You opened your books to study without paying them any attention, already rapidly writing down some notes on a parchement. Sebastian couldn’t help but stare at you, frustrated with your obvious disappointment in him but also hypnotized by your shirt, so tight over your voluminous breast that it left a gap between the buttons where the fabric was as stretched out as it could be.

“Is everything alright ?” He finally had the courage to ask you, struggling to peel his eyes away from the new curves of your body.

“Fantastic.” You replied coldly, without even bothering to look at him.

“I can tell that you are upset. Just tell me what’s wrong.” He insisted.

“Nothing.” You said, in a tone that suggested the total opposite.

“Please, I’d love to hear what this idiot did to upset you… Again.” Ominis pleaded, which was an odd way of supporting his best - and only - friend but Sebastian decided to let it slide.

“This idiot told me that I was becoming pretty huge this morning.” You snapped, glaring daggers in his direction. “And then, he proceeded to flirt with Professor Garlick during the whole class.”

“Have you ever heard of something called tact, Sebastian ?” Ominis sighed, shaking his head.

“I may have said that but it was just an observation, because your belly is showing more than what I thought it would in the beginning of your second trimester, that’s it.” Sebastian justified, but by the way your jaw clenched, it wasn’t helping diffuse the tension much. “And I did not flirt with Garlick.”

“You always flirt with Garlick.” Ominis stated, without hesitation.

“All the other guys do it, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Maybe, but you’re the one who turned it into a competition.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Ominis ?” Sebastian asked, through clenched teeth.

“No, my schedule is cleared for the rest of the day.” He responded, smugly.

“You’re such a…” Sebastian started but stopped himself when he noticed that you had left while he was arguing with Ominis. “Crap.”

“A… Crap ? I’ve heard more creative insults than that.” Ominis reacted but he ignored him, jumping to his feet to try to find you. He needed to make things right again because he couldn’t stand knowing that you were upset, especially not when it was because of him.

He found you in the library, of course, hidden in an empty aisle with your books abandoned on the floor and an expression of hurt on your face that made his heart sink in his chest.

You slightly jumped when you saw him approaching, briefly meeting his gaze before pretending to look at a book on the shelf in front of you.

“Is Garlick really the problem ? Are you jealous of her ?” He asked, trying to be gentle but still managing to sound as if it was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. “ It’s just a silly game between me and the other guys, nobody takes it seriously… Except Leander maybe.”

“Well, Garlick doesn’t have a big belly and swollen ankles, does she ? And even if she did, she’d probably still be pretty. Unlike me.”

“Oh please, you’re the prettiest girl in this school and you know it.” Sebastian snapped back, without hesitation but you still felt too bad to accept the compliment and move on. Your feelings were so confusing that you couldn’t help but need to pick up a fight, if only to let out some of your pant up anxiety and anger out.

“You told me I was huge !”

“Yeah, cause my baby is growing inside of you.” He justified, slightly too loud. He glanced around, making sure no one heard him before continuing with a lower voice. “Trust me, there’s nothing more glorious to me than the way your shirt barely fits your chest anymore. Your whole body is changing, getting rounder and plump and it’s driving me crazy, I can barely focus on my homework and I can barely focus on my work because all I can think about is how badly I want to touch you, all the time.”

His gaze wandered down your uniform, as if to mark his point, while his eyes dangerously darkened at the sight of the very curves he was talking about. Something warm and fuzzy bloomed in your heart at his words, knowing from the way he looked at you - like he could devour you - that he was saying the truth.

He reached out to place a hand on your belly for the first time, his thumb gently stroking it over the fabric of your shirt. He stepped closer - a lot closer - and his eyes moved downwards to your chest, where your shirt was indeed stretched out by the impressive new size of your breasts.

In the dimly lit corner of the library, nestled between the towering shelves of dusty tomes, a sense of forbidden excitement began to swirl around you. With Scribner’s desk out of sight, and the occasional cough from a nearby student serving as the only reminder of your surroundings, the tension between you grew thick enough to slice with a knife.

Sebastian’s eyes raked over your body, lingering on your round belly. His hand ghosted over the curve of your waist and he noticed how your cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson in reaction, your eyes filling with a hunger that probably mirrored his own.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, the scent of old books mingling with your sweet perfume. His fingers danced over your swollen breasts, teasing the sensitive tips of your nipples through the fabric of your shirt until they stood at attention.

He felt your hands on his body, leaving a trail of electricity in their wake as they found their way to the very noticeable bulge in his pants. You firmly pressed your palm against it and it pulsed beneath your touch. The air grew heavy with desire, and the sound of his ragged breaths filled the otherwise quiet space.

He knew you both had to be careful; the risk of getting caught was part of the thrill. Scribner was known to patrol the aisles with the vigilance of a hawk, and the occasional rustle of pages or the squeak of a chair was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

He guided you between the dusty shelves, into the shadows of a more isolated corner, your bodies touching as he finally dared to press a kiss on your lips.

With a grin that was half mischief and half pure, unadulterated need, Sebastian knelt before you, your pregnant belly a gentle curve that led him down to the sweet promised land between your legs. He lifted your skirt up and pushed aside the damp fabric of your panties. His tongue darted out, tracing a path up your slit, teasing your clit with a flick that made you gasp. Your thighs trembled, and you leaned back against the cold wooden shelf behind you, your homework forgotten as he feasted on you. His mouth worked you in a symphony of pleasure, his tongue swirling around your swollen nub with an expertise that had your hips bucking towards him. Your hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer, your breath coming in sharp gasps.

He slid his fingers into your welcoming heat, stretching your walls and curling in a way that visibly sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. He could tell that you were close from the tension in your muscles and the warmth coating his tongue… But he suddenly heard Scribner’s footsteps growing closer, the sound of the rubber soles of her shoes a reminder of the world outside this bubble of lust.

Yet, rather than deterring him, it only spurred him on, encouraging him to drive you closer to the edge before someone might interrupt him and he’d lose his chance to redeem himself.

With a few more movements of his fingers and hungry flicks of his tongue, your orgasm crashed over you, your pussy convulsing around his digits. You bit your lower lip to keep quiet, but a soft moan still reached his ears, a satisfying sound that often haunted his sleepless nights.

He looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he licked his fingers clean, leaving you breathless. He stood up, his hair tousled from the way you had tugged on it, wiping his mouth and chin, still glistening under the faint light of this corner of the library. Then, he helped you adjust your skirt and the thick shirt over your belly, trying to conceal it.

“Do I deserve forgiveness now ?” He asked you, a smug grin on his lips.

“You do. But frankly, I’m not even sure I was allowed to be upset about it in the first place. It’s not like we’re together or anything. You have every right to avoid me if you want to…”

“I’m not avoiding you. I just put all of my free time to good use and run errands for people, I’m hoping to have enough money aside by summer to provide for the three of us until I can get a real job.”

“Oh.” Was all you managed to say at first, visibly surprised by his response. “I didn’t know that you were planning on helping out.”

“Of course I am.” He said, somewhat vexed. “Our baby will be the most spoiled kid in Feldcroft.”

“You want us to live in Feldcroft ?”

“Well I figured it was a good starting point since Solomon’s house is mine now. But we can settle anywhere you want.”

“I like Feldcroft, I always thought it looked like a nice place to live in...”

Sebastian instantly felt relieved. He didn’t have much to offer, but he was glad you weren’t opposed to the one thing he could provide.

“I was thinking that maybe we could stay there for spring break in a few weeks, so that we might be able to keep the secret from your parents a bit longer and you could see if you’re comfortable in the house. We could get started on the nursery as well… Are you crying ? Did I say something wrong ?”

He leaned closer to brush a teardrop off of your cheek and you smiled at him through your tears.

“It just… the hormones.” You justified, but he clearly didn’t believe you and neither did you, your throat tight and your heart bursting with joy at his words. But before you could manage to tell him how much it meant to you that he wanted to take care of you and your baby, a student approached to look at the books on the shelf next to where you were standing, making it impossible to keep talking about the secret you shared with your best friend.

You both tried to pretend like nothing had happened as you walked out of the library, but Sebastian couldn’t seem to fully conceal the cocky smile on his face, he felt slightly too proud of himself at the sight of your still slightly shaking legs and your adorably flushed cheeks, some lovely consequences of the intense pleasure he had managed to give you between the shelves.

[tentacletournament]

HERE ARE THE WINNERS OF ROUND 1:

winners in orange!!

Squig (Among Us) VS Impostor (Among Us)

Remus Sanders (Sanders Sides) VS Albert Wesker (Resident Evil)

Octillery (Pokemon) VS Malamar (Pokemon)

Mizuki (Arknights) VS Andreana (Arknights)

Ood (Doctor Who) VS Dalek Sec (Doctor Who)

Ventricosus (Land Of The Lustrous) VS Aculeatus (Land Of The Lustrous)

Pretzel (Just Roll With It) VS Aqueous Annie Bell (Jellyfish Felonies)

Squidward Tentacles (Spongebob Squarepants) VS The Queen Jellyfish (Spongebob Squarepants)

Ln'eta (Sucker For Love) VS Estir (Sucker For Love)

Marie (Splatoon) VS Captain 3 (Splatoon)

Glow Squid (Minecraft) VS Ghast (Minecraft)

Squilliam Fancyson (Spongebob Squarepants) VS Marco Diaz (Star vs The Forces of Evil)

Tako-Chan (OMORI) VS ABBI (OMORI)

Ken Kaneki (Tokyo Ghoul) VS Ayato Kirishima (Tokyo Ghoul)

Itona Horibe (Assassination Classroom) VS Korosensei (Assassination Classroom)

Monomon The Teacher (Hollow Knight) VS Sibling (Hollow Knight)

The Rot (Rain World) VS Mikitaka Hazekura (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)

Gnosis (Mythic Ocean) VS N'zoth (World Of Warcraft)

The Wall Monster (Johnny the Homicidal Maniac) VS Hank (Finding Dory)

Jelly (A Narwhal and Jelly) VS Soundwave (Transformers)

Slenderman (Creepypasta) VS The Old One (Wizard 101)

Krang (The Rise of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) VS "Turn The Lights Off" (Tally Hall)

Pearl Houzuki (Splatoon) VS Frye (Splatoon)

Davy Jones (Pirates Of The Caribbean) VS Tako Luka (Vocaloid)

Caelum (Anime Campaign) VS Jason Todd (DC Comics)

DJ Octavio (Splatoon) VS Callie (Splatoon)

Londo Mollari (Babylon 5) VS Fukami (Wadanohara and The Great Blue Sea)

Geryuganshoop (One Punch Man) VS Onionsan (UNDERTALE)

Horrorterror (Homestuck) VS Hatchan (One Piece)

Kala Mer'ri (Monster High) VS Professor Inkling (Octonauts)

Blooper (Super Mario Franchise) VS HP Lovecraft (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Cthulhy Squele (Monster Girl Doctor) VS The Creature (Carrion)

Hermaeus Mora (The Elder Scrolls Series) VS Zoe (Monster Prom)

Shiver (Splatoon) VS Agent 4 (Splatoon)

Ebrietas (Bloodborne) VS Octokittens (The Mechanisms)

Ninomae Ina'nis (Hololive EN) VS Vel'Koz (League Of Legends)

Stephano (Reflection) VS Dharkon (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

Dr. Octopus (Spiderman) VS Olivia Octavious (Spiderman)

Hastur (Identity V) VS Omeluum (Baldur's Gate 3)

Tentacruel (Pokemon) VS Lord Helix (Pokemon)

Nightmare Sans (The Underverse) VS Ultros (Final Fantasy)

Marina Ida (Splatoon) VS Agent 8 (Splatoon)

Squid Ink Cookie (Cookie Run) VS The Kracken (Mythology)

Ursula (The Little Mermaid) VS Killer Bee (Naruto)

Michiru Ichijou (Mieruko-Chan) VS Cthulhu (Lovecraft)

Weed (Transistor) VS Squid Girl (Squid Girl)

Octodad (Octodad) VS Paul (Children of Time Trilogy)

Mind Flayer (Magic: The Gathering) VS Azul Ashengrotto (Twisted Wonderland)

Venom (Venom) VS Eight Armed Willy (The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack!)

Squidina (The Patrick Star Show) VS Tamaki Amajiki (My Hero Academia)

Nightmarionne (Five Nights at Freddy's) VS The Kraken (Atlantis)

Lady Luctopus (Psychonauts) VS Oswald the Octopus (Oswald the Octopus)

Cecil Gershwin Palmer (Welcome To Nightvale) VS Khoshekh (Welcome To Nightvale)

[phagodyke]

they need to make a killing myself I can do every weekend but only on the weekends so I can get up fine on monday and go to work again

[fruitsclipper]

Hello! I'm sorry if this is out of the blue, but how'd you get so good at crochet? Your doily looks amazing! I can knit very simple stuff and I've been meaning to pick up crochet, but knit/crochet language for projects can be confusing lol. Also how's your day been?

ahhh i've been crocheting for like 4... and a half? years or so now ... so i think a big part of my skill is just lots of practice! back when i was starting out (learning the stitches) i would make soooo many little "test" swatches to make sure my tension is even, that all the stitches look uniform etc. ^_^ but even still whenever i do a flat project i always make the foundation chain too tight... sob

some written patterns get really confusing with all the abbreviations and whatnot :( if you're lucky sometimes there's charted patterns which might be less confusing. plus it's kindof like a visual guide to see what and how each row/ round will look instead of just. guessing

i've been meaning to get into knitting but having two needles to deal with instead of just one hook is like @_@ too much at once!! afghan/ tunisian crochet is similar to knitting i've heard but idk enough about knitting to say for sure lol

my day's been alright! i packed up some of my stuff for moving back in2 my dorm... classes start back up for me on monday + move-back-in is tomorrow. yaay 🎉

[aerodaltonimperial]

so back when i was teaching, one of the things i learned to look for were the "mood makers", as i liked to call them, of the classes. there were always 2 or 3 per class, and it was easy to find them in the first few days. you got those kids on your side, and it was a ripple effect with the rest of the students - they would all follow. so winning those kids over was huge when it came to how the year would play out. and from time to time, whenever the class was sort of faltering - middle of winter, of a big project, burn-out high - i would lean back in on those mood makers again to turn things around.

one particular class, when we had a big multi-month group project happening, were just... really struggling with getting their shit together lol. they were supposed to be practicing their presentations (english speaking class) and they were doing pretty much anything but, and their presentations were supposed to start the next class day. they were also PANICKING as i started giving out some feedback - which was NOT GREAT - as they were running through the lines they were supposed to be remembering. after realizing all of them needed so much extra work, i decided we needed to have a turn-around, so i invited one of the mood makers up to the front. i held out a cup to him, with two papers inside.

"one of them," i said, "says tuesday, and if you draw that, presentations go as planned. but one of them says thursday, and if you choose that one, everyone gets extra time to practice."

everyone was like OH SHIT. OKAY. THIS IS IT. and this mood maker, he was a big personality (they usually are) so i knew he'd really ham this up, and he did. we made a huge deal, with drum-rolls and everything, of him picking one out of the cup. he opened it up the paper and announced THURSDAY to a round of huge cheers. he was the class hero. everyone had TONS of motivation to work super hard on this gifted extra day, and really put the time in. their presentations were great. morale SOARED.

the plot twist was that both papers said thursday, because they all needed the extra time. my forever teacher advice: find creative ways to make things happen so that you get the buy-in from the class.

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Deadline Nov 13: Tawfik needs to pay his international student fees.

My other promos | Currently keeping up with here

Updated: Oct 29

Member(s): @dev-tawfik (current), @devtawfik (shadowbanned), @tawfikblog, @90-tawfik (shadowbanned)

Verification: @/90-ghost

Payment methods:

Gfm for education: PayPal, Venmo, Google Pay, credit/debit

Kofi for survival (mentioned here): PayPal, credit/debit (I recommend focusing on the gfm until Nov 13 since it's more urgent)

Tawfik is a Palestinian currently taking online classes at an Egyptian university. His campaign needs to reach $8,862 USD by Nov 3 and $10,050 (an estimate, more concrete info later) by Nov 13 so he can pay off his international student fees. Any additional funds will go towards the next semester's payments.

More info:

Update Oct 29:

Now @dev-tawfik.

We fundraised $800 ($6000 in the gfm) for Tawfik's textbooks and he bought them on Oct 17. He got a slight discount for being Palestinian, and the money saved went into his backup funds.

The next goal was $9,250 to pay off international student fees (due Nov 13, see math section below) that Tawfik just found out about.

The family urgently needed $1,000 for healthy food (Tawfik's father has health problems and needs vegetables).

Tawfik initially wanted to use the gfm money for education only as promised, but had to add the sum to the campaign goal (a total of $10,250) because the Kofi he made solely for his family wasn't receiving many donations early on.

There were some issues with the Kofi taking a few weeks to transfer funds, but that's been resolved. It is now for support of Tawfik's family and transfers money relatively quickly.

From Oct 17-27, we fundraised to $7,200 to buy some food for the family. This food money will last roughly 2 weeks.

We are focusing back on international student fees and set a short-term goal of $8,862 in the campaign by Nov 3. There will be another small goal set after this date.

We need roughly $10,050 (an estimate) in the campaign by Nov 13 (hard deadline). Again, this isn't a concrete number and involves some usage of Tawfik's backup money.

Campaign details:

Tawfik is a software engineering student in Palestine trying to continue his education by enrolling in online classes at an Egyptian university.

He already raised roughly USD $2,500 in late July through a now closed Paypal campaign and paid the school as an application and reservation fee. This is nonrefundable.

We fundraised $4,113 (5200 - 1087) and paid off his tuition for the year on Oct 7

The gfm is meant for education only. To support the family, donate to the Kofi. It no longer faces issues with long transfer times.

Tawfik has some extra leftover funds from paying off the tuition, but it isn't much and is to be used for emergencies.

Math:

Please let me know if I screwed up the calculation somewhere.

The transfer fee is assumed to be ~$50 per $600 earned. My bad in earlier calculations where I set it after the bank fee rather than before.

Textbooks: base $600

Funds left after:

Gfm for 40 donations: 570.6

~$50 transfer fee: 520.13

12% Bank fee: 458.13

To cover the funds lost to fees, we need an extra $200 (assumed 15 donations). After fees on that, it's only $166 (enough to cover the short-term goal)

So we need 600 + 200 = $800 for the textbooks.

This is $6,000 in the campaign.

Slightly outdated: International student fees: base $2,423

900£ = USD $1,180.93

60k EGP = USD $1,241.29

Funds left after:

Gfm fees for 160 donations: 2304.74

Transfer fee, ~$200: 2,104.74

12% Bank fee: 1852.17

To cover the funds lost to fees, we need an extra $800 (assumed 55 donations). After fees on that, it's only $625 (enough to cover the short-term goal)

So we need 2423 + 800 = $3,223 for the international student fee.

This is $9,223 10,223 in the campaign, rounded up to $ 9,250 10,250

The rate of ~$100 daily is sufficient to get us to this goal before the deadline of Nov 13 (this accounts for the 2 days needed for transfers)

[imaginaryf1shots]

Hidden | Max Verstappen

WC: 1.5K

Max x wife!reader

Summery: May has always a private person, but is he that private that he could hide his wife of 8 years and 2 year-old son.

Warnings: none

AN: This is a little something, while I’m working on two big fics

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Max Verstappen is many things, and when people ask you to describe him they always have a lot to say. He’s a great driver, at the top of his career, he’s aggressive, he’s sarcastic, definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his skinny jeans. He’s also incredibly private, not much is known about him that he doesn’t want to be known, how he does it is a mystery.

You both value your privacy, and any post made of you before he made it to F1 was deleted the second there was a possibility he would join. You were both young, and you knew how much hate some wags get and you didn’t want that. While Max was off racing, you were back home finishing your studies, the moment you finished high school and you were both 18 you got married. A small wedding with only family and very close friends in attendance. Some of your families were against it at first, saying you’re too young, too naive but you never listened to them. Both you and Max knew what you wanted, and there was not stopping you from getting what you wanted.

You finished Uni and when Max moved to Monaco you did too, you met some of the drivers, the ones close to Max, you met some of the team that were also close to him. And you even attended a few races, but no one paid you any attention, thinking you’re just a fan.

However the last time you made it to a race was well over a year and a half ago, you gave birth to your baby boy last winter, and after a hard delivery and a long recovery, where Max stuck by your side through it all. Your boy is almost 2 and he misses Max every time he’s away from home.

”Are you sure this is the right time?” Max asked you as you got yourself ready, Karel happily playing with his toys next to Max on the bed.

“I mean we’ve been married for 8 years now, and dating for three before that.” You point out and finish the last touches to your make-up. “We have a son and I want him to grow up seeing you do what you love to do, I don’t know when you actually want to retire, so let him see you do it before it’s too late.”

You walk over to your husband and sit in front of him with a smile.

”You’re right.” Max leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, that leaves you craving for more, Max pulls back leaving you chasing after his lips. The dutch driver laughs and lets you close the gap, your lips meeting for a bit longer, before you have to pull back or things would escalate.

“Don't forget your ring.”

“Already wearing it.”

Walking in the paddock with your son on your hip and your hand in Max’s turned a few heads for sure. It was the tack of the paddock, Max has a girlfriend and a son? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the boy you’re holding is anyones’s but Max, he’s a literal mini Max, with the small red bull merch and everything.

”Oh my god! Loca.” Lando said seeing you both, your son wiggles in your arms. He loves Lando who he sees a lot when you’re all in Monaco. Lando is one of the few people who knew about you for so long and he’s seen Karel mere days after he was born. “Come to uncle, Lala.” Karel leans out of your arms and easily goes to Lando’s. “I didn’t know you guys were bringing him today.”

“We weren’t 100% sure.” Max explains and you give him a look. “Okay, I wasn't 100% sure I’d want to bring him.”

”Well, I’m for one glad that you did.” Lando said entertaining your son.

”That makes the two of us.” You say smiling, as Max pulls you closer to his side.

After Max is sure you and Karel are comfortable at RedBull, he goes off to do his round of interviews and media duties. And it's just his luck that, he's on the panel today.

And it didn't take long before he was being questioned about his family.

“Question to Max, you seem happier today, does that possibly have something to do with your ring and those that came with you today?” Max chuckles, he looks at his wedding ring. On the panel today with him, Charles who knows about his family, Lewis who has no idea, Oscar who has no idea and Pierre who has a suspicion but hasn't been confirmed by Charles.

“Eh, if you're talking about this ring, yes. My son is here for the first time, he's finally old enough to come.” Max is smiling but just because his family came means he's suddenly open with the press and will spill everything.

“You have a son?” Lewis asked confused the gossip hadn't reached Mercedes yet.

“I'm not over the ring, you're married?” Pierre asked, Oscar was looking super confused at the RedBull driver, he heard Lando talking about Max and a child and wife but he thought it was the other Max not this Max.

“Karel's here?” Charles asked, smiling.

“Yeah, I have a son, he's almost 2 and I'm married.” Max said as if he didn't Just drop the biggest news in F1 at the moment.

“You knew about it?” Pierre asked his friend feeling left out, Charles looked cheapish and shrugged.

“It was a secret mate.”

After the panel the drivers waited for Max to ask him some more questions.

“When were you married?”

“Did you get married because of the kid?”

“What's his name?”

“Why did you hide them?”

”When can we see him?”

and so on and so forth, Max knew that this would cause quite a stir in the media but he had no idea the other drivers would be interested.

”Okay calm down everyone, let the man speak.” Lando, the latest person to join the circle said. He wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder. ”Let me answer the oblivious stuff. His name’s Karel, he was born during the winter break of last year, he’s a carbon copy of Max, and yeah, I knew about everything for a few years.”

Lando looked so smug with himself for being in the know.

”And you’re married? Never saw you wearing a ring before.”

“Yeah, got married when we were 18-“

”EIGHTEEN!!” There was a gasps and repetition to the number 18.

”Mate, that’s over 8 years ago.” Pierre said with wide eyes, he’s been Max’s teammate and he was married and he had no idea.

”Yeah, we were dating for 3 years before that, and decided to just do it.” Max explains, he was itching to get back to the garage and see his family. But he had to stand there for a few more minutes to answer all their questions, which he was comfortable with anyways.

You could see a few of the drivers shaking their heads as they dispersed from the circle in disbelief. The gossip and new information was hot, it will be all they can talk about this weekend.

You were out of his driver’s room, and standing beside Max’s car talking with a mechanic as Karel was looking at his dad’s car in fascination. It’s the car he saw every week on the TV.

“Hey.” Max greeted coming in and giving you a quick kiss, he took Karel from your arms and kisses his cheek. “How’s everything?”

”Good, Karel wants to get in the car.” You inform your husband, smiling as your son nodded his head furiously.

”Dada, car.” Karel says cutely and points at his father’s car.

”You can sit baby, don’t think you’ll see anything but you can sit.” Max says and places his child into the cockpit, RedBull cameras snap pictures and take videos.

”Future RedBull champion in the making.” You tease Max and grin, Max had this adoration look on his face. “You should get in and put him on your legs so he can see.”

Max does as you say, he hands you Karel, who you shower with kisses making him giggle and push your face away. Max gets in and you hand him Karel who he places on his lap, the child now able to see out of the car.

”Here Max.” One of the mechanics hand him the steering wheel, and Max puts it in.

”Dada, drive.” Karel says and takes a hold of the steering wheel, Max helps him turn it right and left, it’s. too heavy for him to do it alone. You take out your phone and also film this moment.

If there was ever doubt about bringing Karel, just seeing them making memories and enjoying themselves proves that it’s the right thing to do. There’s no guarantee for how long Max will stay in F1, the motorsport is forever changing and you’ve always wanted Max to make these memories with your son. And if Karel continued showing interest in cars as he does now, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ll be back at karting tracks soon enough, and replete the cycle that you went through with Max with your son.

Max looks at you and smiles, you couldn’t help but lean over and press your lips to his, in a sweet and short kiss.

”It’s good that I can kiss you whenever now.” You comment and wink at Max before you pull back.

“Lucky me.”

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life

[hedgehog-moss]

Last time I went to the village to buy bread I saw a woman in the street who was dressed like a 19th-century peasant, complete with a thick old-timey accent with dialect words no one uses anymore—she was telling a little group of people to follow her so of course I had to drop everything and follow her too.

And it turned out she was a theatre actress who has read a lot of local archives in libraries and town halls, and offered her services to organise guided tours of various villages to tell people about local history in a fun way, by playing characters who lived here in the Middle Ages, the 19th century, or WWII. It's such a cool idea! I talked to her for a bit after the visit and she said she wasn't sure it'd work / attract enough people, but she had groups of tourists + local families show up for the visit every week, in every village where she did this, so she think she'll be hired again next summer.

When I joined their group she was talking about WWII, and how my & other nearby villages were known by the Nazis and Vichy as a hotbed of terrorists, with some Gestapo officers killed in bomb attacks. (In retaliation the Nazis eventually rounded up 100+ locals and deported them to camps, as well as shooting a few.) I was mostly familiar with WWII anecdotes from the North-East, where my grandparents lived during the war, and I found it funny how different they sounded—my grandfather made Resistance activities sound well-planned and careful (espionage, sabotage, underground presses, infiltrating railway services etc) while oral histories around here make them sound a lot more spontaneous and—handcrafted? like "Emile brought what we needed for the bomb in his wheelbarrow hidden under a layer of straw and we exploded 2 Nazis."

We then went to visit the former girls' school, and I learnt a lot about my country's history of education for girls! Also it was really sweet because there was an old lady in our group who had attended this school as a child and had lots of school memories to share. Most of them were very wholesome, until eventually our tour guide went "Surely you also have some School Mischief to tell us about" and the old woman at first was like no no no no, I was a good girl. And then she conceded that when she had to sort lentils for the nuns' dinner and she resented one of them for berating her in class, she'd do a shit job on purpose and leave some little stones in the lentils.

Then our last step was the fairground where the town fair was (and is still) held, and our tour guide told us little 19th-century anecdotes (in-character, more like acting them out) that she'd found in old postcards and letters in the archives—how the town fair was where you'd go for your dentist appointment (i.e. to have your bad teeth pulled with pliers with no pain medicine) and to get any object repaired, like damaged pans or clogs; how there were dancing bears and performing monkeys; how one year the merchant who sold linen for women's trousseaus had her linen display trampled "by 300 cows" (might have been an exaggeration) and she hit the cow herder and it started a massive brawl.

My favourite anecdote was how back in the 1800s the local innkeeper was frustrated by the fact that the nearest village is just 10km away, and people who came to the fair often decided to go spend the night there so their journey back the next day would be less long, and so he started to tell them about the beast that lives under the bridge between the two villages. Travellers say horses go mad when they see it and just jump into the water. Some say the beast has dug up corpses from the cemetery because it likes human flesh, though of course it prefers it fresh. I'm now convinced half of local legends were single-handedly created by business savvy innkeepers determined to get more customers than the rival inn 10km away.

I'm sad I only learnt about these visits at the end of summer when they're coming to an end, but I'll definitely follow this woman around again if she returns with more stories next year!

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

Orcs who can’t reproduce on their own as they’re a mono-sex species. There’s no real concept of gender in an orc village, and how humans, elves, and minotaur have different gender expectations baffles them. There’s work to be done! Who cares what’s in your pants when there’s chores that need doing!

Reproductively speaking, it does mean that in order to have kids orcs need people from other species will to carry their kids.

Usually this manifests in two ways. 1) members of a village go out into the world, explore, fall in love, and bring their spouse back to their village to start a family (though some won’t return to their village and will just start their family with their new spouse whenever they are). 2) it’s pretty common for a village to offer someone an easy life of being doted on an pampered in return for bearing the next generation of kids with them.

In these villages kids are raised communally, orcs maybe have a guess which kids might share their blood, but it doesn’t matter, all kids are theirs.

It’s a soft free use sort of set up. If you say no or not now it’ll be respected, though you really will be disappointing all those orcs who just want to spoil you and love you and see you round with their kids. Gently being passed around, fawned over, some days your feet never even touch the ground because they insist on just carrying you anywhere you want to go.

You never have to life a finger, constantly attended to, though they’re also so happy to teach you any skills you want! Always wanted to learn to sew clothes? There’s a tailor teaching you and fawning over your messy stitches like it’s the most beautiful thing ever created? The potter shows off the terrible plate you made with pride, just happy that you wanted them to teach you? Blacksmithing? Hunting? Anything you want.

A pampered life where you’re so deeply loved and treasured.

It takes a little time to get used to all the fucking though. They do their best to let you have time to yourself and enjoy being spoiled, but you did promise that they could have you whenever they want. You don’t know the last time you had a night where you weren’t fucked to sleep, taking load after load in your cunt, ass, and mouth from whoever wanted to fuck you until you were so sleepy you couldn’t keep your eyes open. Your last partner still hard inside you and pumping a few more loads while you rested and then cockwarming them all night. Gently being woken up in the morning because they just couldn’t wait any longer and needed to fuck you again or a new partner sliding into easily as you’re still slick with cum and your own juices.

Walking through the village to be tossed over someone’s shoulder and brought home for them to fuck, or if they’re impatient just being bent over the nearest surface and being fucked in the middle of the village.

You’re rarely with one partner at a time. If you’re being fucked publicly several other orcs quickly join in. Even if you’re in your own home or behind closed doors at someone else’s you’re always quickly overheard and more join in.

You’re always kissed and snuggled after, and usually during. They’re very affectionate and just adore everything about you!

Short fic based on this

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕*

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Dom!Chan, Brat!Reader, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, CreamPie, Degrading, Mentions Of multiple rounds, Studio Sex, P in V, Sir Used, Slightly proofread.

You can find this beautiful request (here)

-🖤

You had been testing Chans patience all day today, but what broke the straw was you getting a little too handsy with Changbin. You were sitting in the studio with Chan when Changbin had come into grab something. Somehow you ended up feeling his muscles making him all blushy. When Changbin left for the gym Chan shot you a death glare. He was always so patient, way more than he should be honestly. Today though? He had enough.

He got up locking the door, he hovered over you looking down at you. You stared at the ground not wanting to meet his gaze. That gaze, you knew damn well he was done with your bullshit. He sighed loudly before sitting beside you. Yanking you over his lap making you yelp at the suddenness. He laid your body over his lap ass pushed up. He pulled your shorts down with your underwear as you squirmed at his touch.

“Don’t move.” He said in a low voice. “You know the rules, count and do not look away.” He said staring daggers down at you.

You nod only for him to let a quick slap to your ass. “Words.” He said with a growl.

“Yes- sir, I’m sorry sir” you said voice trailing off a bit at the end.

“And what happens if you don’t keep eyes on me or don’t count?” He said rubbing his hand over the area he had slapped.

“Starts over” you all but whimper out looking at him with big doe eyes.

“Good girl” he said softly before letting another slap hit your ass. “Now start counting”

“1” the first (third) slap hard, his hand soothing it a bit before another smack.

“2” you groaned out eyes staring deep into each others gaze.

A few minutes had passed, with a whimper you kept going. “8.” Tears pricked at your face as you blinked the tears away.

“You gonna learn your lesson next time hm? Or are you gonna keep testing my patience.” He said another spank hitting your ass this time harder. The area was red, sensitive and getting sore. He normally did it on both sides but this was a sort of punishment he did when you were really bad.

“M’sorry sir, I didn’t-“ a louder yelp left your lips as another smack connected. “N-nine” you stuttered out.

“You didn’t what? Be a brat all day and then feel up my friend’s arms like a dirty little whore? You didn’t mean to do all that?” His voice was low but also a mocking tone. Another hard smack came down to your ass connecting with the sensitive spot once more.

“10!” You basically screamed. This slap the last one, was hard. Full of all the anger you had made him feel through the day. It stung, it hurt, it sure was gonna bruise. He ran his fingers over your ass looking down at your tear stained face. He spread your legs slightly running his fingers down your folds slowly. The sensation made your body jump, Not expecting it.

“You took your punishment so well, I’m proud” he said voice a bit softer than it had been. The slight pain dying down now you could feel how wet you were. He ran his fingers across your clit before pulling them away. You wanted to whine out but you knew it was a bad idea. So you bit your cheek trying to be good for him.

“Up” he said patting your ass, and you did so. You stared at him while he unbuckled his pants pulling everything down letting his cock slap back against him. He was rock hard, pre cum dripping from his tip. “Over the couch now.” He demanded.

You obeyed taking position, as soon as he made his way behind you he was already pushing into you. He gave you no time. No time to adjust and definitely no time to think. He was pounding into you mercilessly, balls slapping against your skin as he bottomed out. A string of curse words and grunts left his mouth as you moaned below him.

He gripped your hips harshly as his nails dug into the sensitive soft skin. You could feel his cock so deep into you, he was twitching already. He slapped your ass this time on the other cheek before bringing his hands up to wrap around your neck. “Tell me how much of a slut you are, tell me how you were probably bad cause you’re a needy whore and just want my attention. He growled.

“M’need- always need your attention. Always want all of you” he groaned. You could feel your legs becoming jelly. Your cunt squeeze around him. “G’onna cum!” You moaned out spit dripping down your chin.

“Did I say you could? You think you’ve deserve to cum?” He said as he took a chunk of your hair pulling it harshly. Your head came back where he could whisper into your ear. “Think I should let you?” He said almost a chuckle.

“Please sir I’m sorry- I- I’ll behave just- aah” you moaned out. Chan grinned as he pulled out before quickly flipping you over.

“You’re gonna keep eye contact with me until I cum got it? Then maybe I’ll let you cum” he said pushing himself back into you. His pace was fast he was hitting every spot inside you. Your body shook under him, in return making him laugh. “So pathetic” he said as his hand found its way to your clit. He rubbed small circles as he drilled into your eyes never leaving one another’s.

“Sir! Mm fuck- so good- only you. Only you make me feel so good.” You babbled out. You were seeing stars and so was Chan. His high washing over him faster than he thought it would. His cock pumped deep into you as he groaned. Hot liquid filling you to the brim as his movements start to stutter.

“Shit princess” he said he leaned down leaving sloppy kisses to you as he rubbed you clit. “Cum for me princess, I wanna watch you come undone from me” he groaned out. It didn’t take long for you to let go. Gushing all over his long cock as you arched your back.

“Thank you sir” you said panting out. “M’sorry for being bad” you said softly looking up at him.

“I know baby” he coo’d rubbing your head as he came down from his high. A few moments had passed before either of you said anything else, But you were the first one to break the silence.

“Chan” you said softly. “Chan! The recording sound was on! You recorded this whole-“ your eyes went wide looking at him. He couldn’t help but laugh, he just shrugged “maybe I’ll put it in a song” he said smiling at you as you rolled your eyes.

He cocked an eyebrow “attitude back already?” He teased making you pout “no..” you said softly “don’t worry baby I’m not done with this punishment yet, I think I got 2 more rounds in me” he said before kissing you as he wrapped his arms around you. Those 2 rounds? Yeah, turned into 1 more at the studio and 2 more at your house.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

synopsis: while gaming with your friends who live in your dorm, someone suggests something a little cynical and humiliating for the loser to do

tags: explicit, vulgar, m@sterbation on cam, 3some, penetration, oral

wrd cnt: 1.2k

a/n: repost/rewrite! (continuation)

The normal night for you and your friends after a brutual day of calculus was a quick game of whatever the three of you decided that night...and quick was a few hours.

The three of you lived in the same building, but it was more convenient to just game together on call.

Tonight it was rounds and rounds of "poker night 2".

"Can you hurry it up?" Scara says, waiting on Xiao

"You know..unlike you I actually look at my cards" Xiao replies, rolling his eyes in the webcam and smiling when he hears you chuckle.

"All I'm saying is, I didn't win for nothing last round."

"Beginners luck" You say, raising your eyebrows in question of his skill, earning a scoff from Scara.

The game went on for a while, and the three of you had the usual banter and laughter, which made the comments ahead a little... questionable.

"Xiao…...I swear to you if you win this round I'm going to bed and blocking you."

"Wanna bet on it, dick?"

"Of course you're thinking about dick" Scars jokes, in a mockerish tone making you burst out into laughter.

"You think about jerking off more than what's for lunch."

"So that's the bet tonight??" You say, not expecting what Xiao would say next.

"What so loser has to jerk off for the world to see?" Xiao says, the light of the monitor screen reflecting into his eyes in his dark room, as he waits for a joke in response.

"I'm down." You say, hearing Scara slightly sigh out a deep breath before agreeing alone with you.

Suddenly a game of poker had a lot more riding on it than some fake money.

Of course, in ironic fashion Scara is in a loosing streak and cursing loudly at every terrible hand that follows his incredible bluffs.

"I can hear you from the fucking CEILING. Calm down..." Xiao says.

It was down to either you or Xiao, Scara losing considerably already, so at least you saved yourself the embarrassment of losing the bet.

It was your turn at this point, and you decided to go all in; with a straight flush. No way you weren't going to win.

Xiao, in the lead, didn't need to win, he just needed you to lose.

You were confident in your choice....until you saw Scaras cards.

A royal, fucking, flush.

"Fuck" you breathe out. You saw your character icon drop down down to the number "0". Game over for you.

“You don’t have to actually y/n- it was just a joke.” Xiao mentions.

“Fuck off”, you yell, your competitive nature acting before thinking.

You dropped your pants and spread your legs over the arm rests, each leg on either side as you groaned in annoyance at your loss.

"Uh oh...someone's not so happy huh?"

"Shut the hell up..." You say, defeated and salty, so close to winning. "I-I won't let you win again you know...this is just a one time thing" You manage to spit out, deep sighs leaving your body as only your chest and below is left in frame, your fingers visibly rubbing your hard nipples through your tank top as you begin to pinch and rub your clit, before fingering yourself with only your panties to cover your pussy.

"Fuck..." Xiao whispers, barely making its way to your ears as his palm covered the lower half of your face.

"Heh....what a bunch of whores the two of you..." You say, whimpering as the sounds of your slick coating your fingers becomes more and more apparent, your throat pitching higher as you gasp and moan for release, hearing Xiao and Scaras voices get deeper with groans, the sound of them pumping their cocks to the sight of you and your arousal.

Was was meant to be just a joke was your downfall.

Soon after, you see the boxes that would be Scara and Xiaos names and faces turn to black, leaving you feeling guilty and really fucking desperate, did you do something wrong?

You didn't know what would come next, they were your only friends on campus after all.

Minutes that felt like hours passed, and a furious knock returned at the door, almost startling due to how vulnerable you were right now.

"Y/n...it's us." You heard from beyond the wall.

Familiar voices which made you even more nervous as you open the door, Xiao and Scara leaning their bodies against the door frame with animalistic looks plastered upon their countenance, cheeks blushed and eyes set low.

"What's wrong..." You asked, letting them slowly enter your room, dimly lit with just the computer screen illuminating the space that they'd seen just from the other side.

"What do you think?" Scara says, his hand finding your waist as he pushes you aside to close the door now behind you, pressing you against it.

"Tell us this is what you want to…isn't it?" Xiao says, his face so close to yours you're practically sharing the same breathes of air, feeling his warm hand on your side of your neck as he spoke.

It took you 2 good minutes of convincing with a makeout against the door and you were so easily stripped, and layed into bed, and in such vulgar positions.

Scara holding your hips behind him, and Xiao next to your head.

They already knew how they were going to fuck you, Scara, imaging it as he saw how you pleasured yourself; on your hands and knees with your ass in the air would give him a good look of his cock sinking into your tight little hole; the one you were riding on call.

Your hands gripped your own sheets tighter until your knuckles were lightened from how slowly he started to push his thick cock inside of you. Scara groaned, smacking a hand across your ass before reaching his hand down to rub your clit in circles like he watched you do on call.

"You like that? It looked so sexy when you did it for us. Made me so fucking hard..." He'd spout, feeling your cunt clench around him.

"I'm here too you know" Xiao says, his thumb toying with your bottom lip before it parts your mouth open, the tip of his cock allowed itself in as muffled moans from how Scara thrusted into you vibrate around his length, making him groan and throw his head back; pinching and tugging at your perky nipples from under you all the while.

"Fuck..you have suck a nice mouth y/n...."

"Don't get me started on her pussy..." Scara groaned, one hand gripping your hip with the other was wrapped in his hair, keeping it back as he fucked you so deep and full.

"You'll take me next, right y/n?" Xiao cried, his eye brows furrowed as he looks down to see your mouth wrapped around him, wet sounds of your pussy and the drool around his cock making sinful noises in symphony.

"Fuck fuck fuck....can I come inside y/n...please-god it’s too much”.

Scara groans, seconds away from painting your pussy white, looking to Xiao for your confirmation.

You urgently nod, needing to feel his cum inside you.

That's exactly what you got.

With one last thrust Scara held your hips close to his, emptying out his balls into you as Xiao did the same. Cum dripping out of your cunt and more going down your throat, both the men breathlessly grunting, pleasure taken over all three of you.

Maybe losing wasn't so bad after all?

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

[lightsoutletsgo]

the one where ollie lives alone (cl.16 x bearman!reader)

pairing: mainly ollie bearman x oldersister!reader for this part but there's a plenty of charles leclerc x bearman!reader here and there!

word count: 4.2k

warnings: a whole lot of stupidity mentions of death, seemingly angsty in some parts (you'll see what I mean) this might be one of my favourite parts I've written for any series ever 😭 it's so dumb but so funny (according to the people who proofread for me!) as always let me know what you think! your comments are always appreciated. happy reading! mimi 🤍

taglist: @arieslost @iamapersonwholikesunicorns

“Jesus Y/N, what the hell is in here?” Ollie wheezed as he staggered past you, arms straining under the weight of the box he was carrying. You rolled your eyes, “You’re so dramatic Ols, it’s literally just makeup.” 

“Is that the last box ma belle?” You turned and saw Charles in the doorway, staring at you fondly. “Mhmm! Everything else is in the van.” You held your arms out to him and he crossed the room, pulling you in by your waist and kissing you softly, “I can’t believe you’re finally coming home with me…” You smiled, looping your arms round his neck, “Me either,” He booped your nose with his own, a loud cough making the two of you jump apart as Ollie leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised, “Are you two done being gross?” “Shut up dummy.” You punched his arm as you walked past him towards the front door. You inhaled deeply, it felt strange but exciting to be moving out and into Charles’ apartment. 

Behind you, Charles watched Ollie stare at you, looking like he wanted to say something. He quietly padded up behind the younger driver and nudged his arm,  “Are you going to miss her?” Ollie was startled but quickly scoffed, “Hmm? No way!” Charles gave him a pointed look, “I get the whole place to myself! I can’t wait!” Charles gave him a smile and punched his arm gently, “We’re only ten minutes away if you need us.” Ollie laughed, “Thanks but I can manage!” 

♯ incident 1 - the dishwasher ⊹.∿  As it turned out, Ollie could in fact, not manage. Mere hours after you’d left him, you found yourself sprinting back up the stairs, cursing the old apartment building for still not having an elevator. You reached the floor of your old apartment and checked the door to see if it was open, turning the handle and entering you called out, “Ollie? I got your text!” You poked your head into each room as you went, searching for him, “What’s the emer…gen…cy…” You trailed off as you reached the kitchen, Ollie staring up at you with wide eyes, crouching next to the dishwasher that was… pouring out soapy bubbles? “Ollie!” “I think I made a mistake.” He said dryly, suspiciously poking some of the bubbly foam next to his shoulder, “Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” You said sarcastically, thinking of a solution, “You put dish soap in didn’t you?” He nodded sheepishly, “There were no dishwasher tablets left so I just… thought on my feet?” You facepalmed and sighed, “Okay well, we need to- DON’T OPEN IT!”

You looked on in horror as Ollie pulled open the door and a torrent of soapy warm foam spilled out and all over the kitchen floor, creeping further into the centre of the room, was it… growing? You looked over at your brother to see him staring back at you with comically wide eyes. “So that’s why we don’t do that.” You said, face deadpan. Ollie giggled nervously, “Oops?” A snort from behind you had you turning round to see Charles filming the whole thing, “Oh some help you are babe.” Charles coughed to cover up his laughter as he put his phone away and entered the foamy bubbly monstrosity that was now the kitchen. “Somewhere under here there’s a bucket and mop.” “Ollie?” “Yeah?” “You’re going in.” 

♯ incident 2 - french toast ⊹.∿ A few days had passed since the dishwasher incident and you dozed in Charles’ arms, enjoying the lazy Sunday morning sun slipping through the bedroom curtains. The previous night’s activities had left you a little worn out and with no plans for the day, you had wordlessly agreed that a cosy day in bed was just what you needed. A shrill sound pierced the air and jolted both you and Charles awake. You scrambled to find your phone, as Charles groaned, hands rubbing his face as your hand came up to feel how quickly your heart was pounding. You glanced at the screen as your hand met your phone and you scowled, Charles rubbing your back and doing his best not to laugh as he saw who was calling you,  “Ollie Bearman, you better have a damn good reason for calling me this early on a Sunday morning.” There was a pause, “It’s eleven o��clock?-” “That’s not the point!” You sighed, “What do you need?” “Well, you see… I have a question.” “Go ahead,” “So I was making french toast right? And I followed the recipe exactly as you wrote it out! Right amount of eggs, milk and sugar.” “So what’s the issue?” Ollie sighed, “It won’t cook but it smells a bit smokey…” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Then turn it down?” “I don’t know how!” “Turn the hob dial down dummy!” Ollie went silent for a second, “Did you say hob dial?” Alarm bells started ringing in your head, “Why would I adjust the hob when I’m using the toaster.” You froze for a moment before pulling your phone away from your ear and putting it on speaker, unable to believe what you were hearing, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Charles gave you a concerned look, sitting even closer to you and wrapping one arm around you while the other rubbed your knee comfortingly 

“I said, I’m using the toaster.” You stared at your phone, mouth slightly agape, “You’re making french toast in the toaster?” “Correct.” Charles snorted and choked back a huge guffaw of laughter as the hand he’d placed on your knee came up to cover his mouth, his face turning pink with how hard he was laughing, “Ollie! French toast isn’t made in the toaster!” “It’s called french toast!” You pressed the video button and changed the call to facetime. Your brother stared back at you, looking rather dishevelled, “That’s a rather deceiving name if you ask me!” You groaned, facepalming, “You make it in a frying pan” Charles was no help next to you as he wheezed silently, grabbing his own phone to record the conversation for later use and hilarity. “Well how was I supposed to know that?!” Ollie was indignant as he pleaded with you through the screen, “OLLIE! You’ve watched me make it hundreds of times!” He pouted through the screen letting out a little ‘hmmph’ “Well if you hadn’t abandoned me, we wouldn’t have this issue would we!” You rolled your eyes, “For the last time, I did not abandon you! I live a 10 minute walk away!” 

You sighed before laughing at your brother lovingly, “Alright then silly, head over for lunch and I’ll show you how to make french toast the proper way.” Charles snorted once more and you both burst into giggles as your brother scowled at you, “Stop laughing at me!” Ollie whined, you caught your breath and wiped your eyes, heart warm at the silly moment you knew would turn into a fond memory, “Uhhhh Y/N?” You looked back at the screen to where Ollie was turning the camera round to show you a sparking, smoking toaster, “I don’t think it should be doing that…” You cursed as Charles scrambled out of bed, pulling mismatching socks on as you grabbed a hoodie, “Change of plans Ols, we’re on our way!” 

♯ incident 3 - Gerald ⊹.∿ Things were peaceful for a couple of days after the french toast debacle - something you were more than thankful for, wrapped up in your perfect little bubble with Charles. Of course you continued to text Ollie, but there had been no major crisis that required your immediate attention. Until there was. 

It had been one of those long lazy days spent at home, until Charles had announced he was taking you to dinner and told you to get all dressed up. You’d slipped on one of his favourite numbers and he’d shown his appreciation more than once, sliding his hands round your hips and squeezing while you waited to be seated, pulling your chair out for you to sit down and sliding his hands down your arms once you were seated, moving his chair round the table to sit closer to you so he could place a slow smooch against your neck. You hummed happily as he fed you a mouthful of his dish, “I knew you’d like it!” You smiled at him, “I like most things you suggest…” He bit his lip as his eyes darkened slightly, “Is that so?” You nodded, eyelashes fluttering as your lids close, “What if I suggested something a little… more intimate?” You giggled, picking up your wine glass to take a sip and hide your face, too shy to keep the eye contact, “I wouldn’t mi-” Your phone blaring cut you off and you gasped, rushing to put your glass down as other customers in the restaurant glared at you, Charles chuckling quietly next to you, his hand resting on your thigh and rubbing soothingly. 

“Ollie I swear to go-” “He’s dead.” You heard your little brother sniffle and adrenaline kicked in, “Ollie, who’s dead?” You kept your voice as calm and quiet as possible, you heard him sniffle once more before a sob left his mouth. That was all you needed to hear before you were grabbing your clutch and nodding towards the door. Charles tilted his head and you mouthed your brother’s name. He nodded understandingly and rushed to pay the bill before you were both scurrying back to his car. As soon as you were buckled in you put your phone on speaker, “Ollie… Honey… what happened?” Charles also looked panicked as he heard Ollie’s choked sob, “He was fine and then he just… wasn’t.” “Who Ollie, who’s not fine?” You pleaded, “Ge-” You cursed as the call cut out, “It’s okay ma belle, his phone probably just died, we’re almost there okay?” You nodded, hands nervously twisting and wringing together in your lap. Charles eyes darted to your hands for a second before looking back at the road, one hand leaving the steering wheel to gently hold your hand in his. You looked at him and squeezed, a wordless thank you. 

As soon as Charles pulled up, you were racing out of the car, slipping your heels off and carrying them in your hand as you sprinted barefoot up the stairs of the apartment building. You reached the door and rang the bell, knocked, called his name, anything you could think of to attract his attention. The door opened slowly and it wasn’t Ollie that appeared but Arthuer Leclerc, looking ever so sombre, “Arthur?” Your eyes were panicked as you looked him over for any injuries or obvious isses. He simply held his hand out to indicate to you to enter and you slowly stepped through the door, “Where’s Ollie?” Arthur nodded, head down towards the ground and the panic rose in your chest again, “He’s in the living room, saying his goodbyes.” “Goodbyes to who?” You paced down the hallway and burst into the living room, your jaw dropping at the sight you saw.

Ollie stood in front of the coffee table that was lit with candles, dressed in a suit and your brain suddenly registered that Arthur had been dressed the same way. You were even more concerned when you saw Arthur’s girlfriend fully dressed in black,  standing next to Ollie with a comforting hand on his shoulder. You approached him slowly, arms opening and your expression softening as he turned to you with a red splotchy nose and red-rimmed eyes, he fell into your arms and you patted his back, gently shushing him, “What happened, Ols?” “He’s gone.” Ollie croaked out, “Who’s gone honey?” Your voice was gentle as you stroked his hair, the same way you did when he was younger and couldn’t sleep, “Gerald.” “Oh.” You said softly, “Was he a friend?” Ollie nodded and you held back a wince as he rubbed his snotty nose onto your shoulder, knowing he needed you, “He was such a good friend.” You led him over to the couch and sat down, his head falling onto your shoulder as you continued to play with his hair. 

You were aware of Charles appearing in the doorway and you gave him a brief smile, before turning your attention back to Ollie, “Would I know this friend?” Ollie nodded, his sobs quieting to sniffles, “You were his friend before I was.” Your stomach dropped as you frantically thought of who Ollie could possibly be referring to, feeling guilty that your mind was blank, “The funeral was lovely.” Arthur’s girlfriend nodded solemnly, a hand over her heart as the other hand came up to dab her eyes with a tissue, “The funeral has already happened?” You were confused as Arthur nodded, “Just before you got here.” Your eyes shot to Charles who was just as concerned and confused as you, “Wait, the funeral was here?” Ollie scoffed, “Well where else would it have been?” “Wait Ollie,” You held his face in front of yours, “Why was the funeral in your apartment?” “He wanted to be remembered in the place he was most happy…” Ollie sighed wistfully, his head turning to look at the coffee table once more. 

You squinted, focusing on a shape amidst the flickering candles and once more your mouth gaped as you stood up and stormed over to the other side of the room. “Ollie. Bearman.” You gritted your teeth, “Don’t tell me that this was all about a fucking cactus?” “Succulent!” Ollie snapped at you, wiping away a tear from under his eye, “He was a succulent,” He whispered as he looked down at the floor. Charles broke first, snorting in the doorway and you watched as he did his best to choke down his laughter, coughing and shaking his head, you watched as he excused himself from the room for a moment to force a solemn expression back onto his face. He returned but you could see the laughter threatening to bubble over as he took in the sight before him. Ollie, his younger brother and his younger brother’s girlfriend all dressed in black and in mourning for a succulent that sat sadly on the coffee table and looked like it had been watered a little too much.

“I’m glad you got here,” Arthur spoke up suddenly, “Oh goodie, do tell me why.” Your tone was sarcastic. “We’re about to do the funeral exit.” Charles was holding in his laughter so much that he now had tears streaming down his face and Arthur patted his back with a ‘there, there’ and handed him a tissue. “Arthur’s girlfriend has agreed to sing the exit song and we’re so thankful she has.” “Who is we Ollie?” You brow furrowed as you looked around the living room,  “I-I…” You sighed. “Go ahead.” You all stood still, heads to the floor as Arthur’s girlfriend launched into a rendition of ‘Memory’ from Cats, “Miiiiiiidniiiiiight, not a sound from the paaaaavemeeeent.” Charles quietly crossed the room to stand next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder, “Interesting date night hmm?” You growled, “Don’t you dare encourage him.” Ollie approached you,  “Do you want to say your final goodbyes?” “Ollie, why would I care about a succulent?” He gasped, “It’s Gerald!” “Yes Ollie so you said, but why would I care that it’s name is Gerald?” Ollie shook his head, “Don’t even recognise your own friend…” Arthur tutted and even his girlfriend gave you a disapproving look as she continued wailing in the background, you mentally made a note to apologise to the neighbours the next time you were here during normal sociable hours. 

You rolled your eyes at your younger brother and stepped forward to ‘pay your respects’ to the succulent. Your eyes narrowed, “Oliver. James. Bearman. That’s MY fucking succulent!” “It was nice of you to wear black.” He continued, nodding towards your dress and Charles blazer and pants, ignoring your exclamation. “We were on a date!” You screeched, Charles once again powerless to help in any way, instead just collapsing with laughter. You growled as you lunged for your brother, “Ollie, I swear there will be a funeral tonight.” You hissed, “Yours!”

♯ incident 4 - spiderman ⊹.∿ After everyone had said their goodbyes to Gerald, he had been unceremoniously dumped into the rubbish bin and that had been the end of it. Ollie had promised to buy you a new succulent and had learned that they did not, in fact, require watering every day, and you now forever had ‘Memory’ stuck in your head. Once more, peace had been restored but you doubted it would last much longer. 

Your theory was proved correct when a few days later, your phone rang. An unknown number. You ignored it at first, all too aware of strange reporters and crazy fans who would do anything to get closer to Charles. You simply went back to reading your book, until your phone rang again. It was an unknown number still and you grumbled, rolling your eyes and answering quite snappily, “Yes? Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line seemed almost taken aback, “Umm excuse me is this Y/N Bearman?” You sighed, “Yes it is, no I won’t give you a quote and yes Charles is great in bed, goodbye!-” “No wait please! I’m from downstairs! You live in 10B yes?” You stopped as your finger hovered over the end call button and brought the phone back up to your ear, “Uhhhh I used to, yes, can I ask why?” “Oh, well there’s a man trying to climb onto your balcony and I was concerned that’s all.” Your stomach flipped, your mind rushing to thoughts of someone breaking in when your little brother was home alone, “I’ll come over now! My younger brother still lives there.” You raced to grab your keys and jumped into your car, deciding to get there as soon as possible rather than walk. Who was stupid enough to break in in broad daylight? You briefly considered calling the police but you were sure the idiot would be gone by the time you got there. Your car pulled up and you craned your neck to look up at the balcony of your old apartment. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted that there was indeed a man hanging off of your balcony, “Holy shit,” You mumbled, scrabbling to open the door and race towards the apartment complex. The closer you got you squinted as you realised the hoodie looked ever so familiar. “Ollie?!” You yelled up and shrieked as your brother looked down at you, giggling nervously as his feet kicked back and forth as he desperately searched for a footing, “What the fuck are you doing?” “Uhhh I can explain!” He yelled back to you, “H-hold on, I’m on my way up!” You hurried up the stairs, once more cursing the lack of elevator as you finally reached your floor, unlocking the door and rushing through the apartment to french doors out onto the balcony. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” You screeched, leaning over the balcony and diving to grab him and pull him up, “Ollie that’s so fucking dangerous!” “Look!” You heard a kid shout from the street below, “It’s Spiderman!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "He wishes!" You paused for a moment to yell back, before resuming hauling your brother over the apartment balcony. “How did you even get up here? Why are you up here?” Ollie chuckled, panting slightly as he finally threw one leg over the ledge, “Funny story actually…” You raised an eyebrow, “Well please share,” “I forgot my key…” “I-” In your shock you almost let go of him and his scream attracted the attention of yet more passers by below, laughing and pointing at the odd sight they were witnessing. You smiled down awkwardly before turning back to Ollie once more, “Why didn’t you call me?” Ollie whined as you began to tell him off, “Because I didn’t want you to find out…” “Oh so this was a better idea- Ah!” You squeaked as Ollie tumbled over the ledge and onto the balcony. Landing on your stomach in a tangle of limbs, “Your foot is up my butt!” “Yeah well it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been being stupid! Anyway, get your elbow out of my eye!” “Oh I’m sorry, I was making sure I wasn’t about to fall to my death!” You shoved Ollie off of you and led there on your back, panting, Ollie much the same,

“For the record, you are the shittiest spiderman there is.” “Thanks, that’s really boosting my confidence.” “Glad I could help.” 

♯ the resolution ⊹.∿ “We need more protection.” You announced loudly, stepping into the kitchen “Excuse me?!” Charles choked on his protein shake, cheeks turning pink and you heard Max snort on the phone, “God, no! You pervs… I meant like, we need protection from Ollie and his dumbass incidents.” Max cackled, “Charles has sent me the videos, I was dying at the dishwasher incident.” You groaned, crossing the room to stand next to Charles who sat at the breakfast bar. He grinned as you rolled your eyes at Max who you could now see was on facetime.  “Yeah, well I’m turning grey way sooner than I should!” You joked. You chatted with Max a little longer before Charles signed off with the promise of joining him to game later. 

You sighed, leaning against Charles’ side,  “What’s wrong ma belle?” You took another breath and paused, “I’m just… worried about Ollie…” Charles put his arm around you and rubbed your back soothingly, “What has you so worried mon amour?” His expression was warm and you knew he wasn’t angry with you, rather genuinely curious, “I just feel like… maybe he isn’t ready to live on his own yet?” Charles nodded at you and you took that as a signal to continue, “I mean, he’s always had me there to help him and I know someday he’s gonna have to get used to me not being there but I just feel like right now…” You trailed off with a sigh, “He still needs you.” Charles finished and you gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “But, I don’t wanna leave you. I love living with you and having you around and I love just... living life with you. Am I selfish for not wanting to give that up?” You bit your lip, moving away from Charles to pace the kitchen floor. Charles shook his head with a fond smile, 

“Ma belle… You’re not selfish for wanting to do something for yourself and I’m proud of you for wanting to pursue that, especially since it’s me you want,” he slid his arms around you as you stepped next to him and dragged you backwards to him, making you giggle, “but I also know that you want to be there for family and I can understand that, you guys are close, the same way that me and Thur are, probably even closer.” You hummed, leaning back against him, “Thank you for being so understanding.” You sighed, “Now I just need to work out how to fix it…” Charles smiled and turned you round in his arms, nudging your nose with his, “Well… we have a spare room?” 

Which is how you found yourself hauling boxes upstairs a week later, “Jesus Ollie, what the hell is in here?” You wheezed out and Ollie simply smiled at you, patting you on the head as he walked past you, arms empty, “You’re so dramatic Y/N, it’s literally just a few bits.” You poked your tongue out at him as he mimicked your words from just a couple of months ago. “Is that it mate?” Charles head appeared from behind the apartment door and Ollie nodded, as you finally conquered the stairs and planted the box down on the hallway floor. “Now let’s go over the rules one more time Ols.” He sighed, “Fine…” “Rule one?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “No dish soap in the dishwasher…” He grumbled, Charles chuckled, “Rule two?” “No cooking without supervision.” Ollie recited as you nodded, “Don’t worry, that rule applies to Charles too.” “Huh?!” “Shush baby, rule three?” You turned back to Ollie, “No watering the succulents unless instructed, no matter how sorry I feel for them.” You nodded, “I am not having a repeat of Gerald and the… funeral.” You shuddered, as Charles snorted before asking, “Rule four?” “Always call one of you two if I forget my keys…” “And?” You raised an eyebrow, “No climbing balconies under any circumstances.”  You clapped your hands together and smiled, “Good! Well I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

You turned to Charles who shook his head and Ollie who just shrugged, “In that case, let’s go! Pizza for dinner sound good?” The three of you walked into the apartment and the door to the hallway swung shut, your arguments about pizza toppings muffled through the door, but the happiness and love you felt for each other not dulled in the slightest.

[satoruhour]

Accidentally sending gojo a nude and before you can properly apologise he sends a video of his own which leads to..well🫣

BABY BLUE SWEETNESS

a/n: my clit grew hands and wrote this. combined this w/ a part 2 of being gojo’s roommate / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody my gojo fuckers

wc: 3.7k (I HAVE GOT TO STOP WRITING SM ....)

warnings: mutual pining, roommate!gojo, dom!gojo, he gets rough but only bc he loves ur pussy sssoooo much, sending nudes by accident to gojo, semi-public m! masturbation, filming (on gojo’s end), pet names, praise, slight f! masturbation, oral / cunnilingus, nipple play, bit of dialogue during sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (twice!), multiple rounds, implied m! oral, n*sfw under the cut

the next week goes by uneventfully.

but you think there’s hardly anything worth happening when you hadn’t even said anything about that: standing outside satoru’s room, hearing his pleasured moans along with the slickness of his hand on his cock and watching him at his most vulnerable with whispers of your name.

gojo did have a few moments of weakness — brief bouts of failing to meet your eyes, stuttering, but he was still predominantly himself after, throwing laundry on the floor and leaving the toilet paper roll unfilled. by date, he was the messiest roommate you’ve roomed with, compared to sleeping over at shoko’s and geto’s places before; sure it was obvious enough being friends with him since high school, though you hadn’t thought that the rowdy, outgoing way that he spoke would translate into his living space, too.

and despite being the one who has the upper hand that very day you decided to stop and watch, he still manages to have some sort of hold on you, catching you off-guard at the worst times.

“any luck with the mods?” gojo peeks over at your laptop over at the small dining table, your leg propped up and a scowl on your face at how you were still on the waitlist. while mr. perfect beside you has gotten every module he’s bidded for, a course on philosophy, romantic and 20th century music as well as an online mod about ethics.

“i don’t even know why you got that last one! funny how the most annoying person who has anything but morals is entering an ethics course.” maybe it was the fact that you’ve already waited one and a half weeks. perhaps it was that one piece of clothing gojo loved to leave on the floor, or simply it was just because of the man himself — you were on your wit’s end with the week.

that fades away when you’re turning your head and gojo is right there, hovering over your computer screen with a sly smirk on his face and his stupid bright, blue eyes that you could spend hours staring at.

“you wound me, baby,” gojo whispers, like it was a secret between the two of you and he pulls away, both hearts beating an unnatural speed at the proximity. gojo swears to himself he’ll never call you anything close to that or be that close because it’s absolutely not good for his heaving chest and hardening dick — those pretty plump lips of yours and the innocent look on your face — he wanted to both kiss it and fuck it.

and yet, on dormitory movie nights where you’re sat on both ends of the couch with geto and shoko between the two of you, satoru wills himself to patiently wait until the end of the first movie to stretch his limbs and get more snacks; he knows you’ll follow, too, because it’s been like that for as long as he can remember.

“you know you have to stop eating all that candy, right?” you’re saying it mindlessly, pouring more chips into a bowl and getting the hummus and guac, “it’s not healthy.”

gojo’s leaning on the counter and doesn’t help whatsoever, both elbows on the wood and head tipped back to meet your height.

“aw, is my cute roomie worried about me?” you almost want to ignore him with that little compliment, not sure if he even meant it, but you’re leaning into him this time with a little glance down to his lips that he thinks he imagined it.

“no, just wondering how embarrassed i’ll be when i have to tell the paramedics that when you finally collapse on the floor, it was because my dumb roommate had consumed too much sugar.” you like this little game you play with satoru, yet you’ve never been this bold; maybe it’s because you know he finds you hot, too, but the two of you are too stubborn to stand your ground and admit the obvious.

gojo’s feigned pout spreads into a grin and simply blows a raspberry at your explanation. there’s a crinkle of yet another sweet packet, disregarding your chastise from earlier. “smart little thing, hm?”

“i become the brightest when you’re involved,” you swipe the sweet from his fingers and pop it into your mouth, “i have to when i need to insult you.” the two of you spend the rest of the movie night hip to hip on the couch, ignoring the fire in your connected limbs and the spark of your fingers when they brush against each other.

it’s a few months before you’re fully embracing that you might not just find your roommate hot, but that maybe you’d want to “wife” him up as the other has expressed jokingly. it didn’t help that gojo is cleaning up a little more often these days, learning how to cook and using his inside voice like you told him to (you didn’t think he’d remember). the last straw was possibly seeing him fuss over you when you fell sick, switching to remote classes just so he could be close to you — his main excuse was that he didn’t want his laundry to be infected.

“but you don’t even like to use shirts half the time you’re home!”

“you’re calling this home—” gojo giggles while simultaneously shoving cough mixture down your throat, “i didn’t know we were married!”

“shut your trap before i really make you regret this.”

but gojo thinks that maybe it wasn’t so bad to come home to you in one of his future days, he just had to get through this first.

it was meant to be a simple photo to show off your new set of lingerie, the ones that you had gotten with your girls at a half-off price just the other day. you couldn’t blame yourself when your hands naturally reached for one that mirrored gojo’s eyes alongside the white details that represent his hair. buy it, take a potential nude and laugh about it in the group chat, that’s all. you felt so damn sexy in it that you even went as far as to take a few photos with your bra unclasped and phone in hand hiding your chest, until the very last one where it was fully off.

you felt unlike yourself, in that stuffy, small dorm while satoru was out in a lecture—

before gojo texts you about groceries and his chat moves to the very top that same moment you’ve got all these lewd, unnatural pictures of you waiting to be sent. it happened all too fast: at least 10 being delivered and read on the spot that your panic is indescribable and you want to melt into mush on the floor.

while you’re scrambling to delete them, gojo stares at your figure in that last racy picture, hands skilfully covering your breasts just enough that he could still see the curve of them and then down to your figure interrupted by a pretty pair of blue lace undies. it’s like you planned this, looking so delectable in your little get-up until it all disappears and you’re sending multiple messages of “i’m so sorry”’s and “it was an accident”’s.

gojo thanked the heavens he was sat at the very back of the lecture theatre, immediately booking it out of there with the images of you seared into his brain. his cock is throbbing and so, so hard it almost hurts to walk to the restroom, and you’re still continuing your apologies. he wants to scream at you — how you do not need to say sorry for whatever you’ve just sent, because as he removes his dick from his tight pants, there’s a soft sigh of your name that falls from his lips.

satoru is reminded of the times you’d be sat in your stupid booty shorts in the dorm, basically showing your folds because he just knew you didn’t like to use underwear underneath. he’s reminded of the times you had to (unwillingly) use one of his shirts when the washing machine had broken down and the only thing on his mind at the time was what you’d look like bouncing on him — he thinks that maybe he just needs to spit it the fuck out, and so he opens the video feature on your private chat.

“this is what you do t’me, baby,” gojo’s tip is already leaking so much pre-cum, making sure he can be seen, expression and all, “you make me so— s-shit— fucking hard.”

he didn’t even care if he could be heard, pumping his cock to the thought of you in that baby blue set of lingerie. he thinks of ripping it all off of you and buying you more just so he could do the same thing again and again, eyes scrunching up in bliss as his hand continues to move up and down his length. his hand isn’t even close to what he wants to feel — your tight pussy sucking him in — but he settles for it, squeezing his palm around his shaft and thumbs his tip.

“ya see this, angel?” gojo chokes out a moan when he sees another notification of ‘i really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable’ and it was the exact opposite for him in this bathroom stall, really hoping this video would drive his point home, “s’all for you, f— fuck.”

the video is incoherent from then on, because it’s all too much for him, the strokes of his warm hand, the images of your body, the sensitivity of his cock. lewd noises of him jerking off and his whines echo throughout the restroom, cumming with a slack mouth and babbles of your name on his lips.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk…” satoru can hardly care as his cum stains his shirt, leaving his cock in needy spurts that dribble down his hand as well, wishing he could see it against your skin instead of his own. the end of the video is messy and hasty that he doesn’t even think much as he sends it, but it’s not even halfway through the video before you’re sending a simple “please come back, now.” and his heart jumps in his chest.

gojo simply shoots a quick text to geto, asking him to help him pack his things because he will definitely not be returning.

you’re so glad you don’t have any more classes for the day, too, because all you can think about now is satoru and his cock, blessed again with the sight of him losing himself in pleasure except now, he knew. your hands aren’t hesitant in reaching down to your core, lingerie already soaked through as you watch the short two minute video over and over as you lazily play with your clit with your eyes trained on his hand. it’s so hypnotising you don’t realise gojo’s already home, standing at your room door with his bulge showing through his pants and sweat lining his brow.

“did you run here?” you sit up, hands covering your chest instinctively. he shakes his head and you remove them.

“you know the bus will take too long, baby.”

you ignore the flutter of your heart and pussy when you know he says the pet name with intent, now, not in a joking or teasing manner. you want to hear it more.

“was that really an accident?”

you’re kneeling on your bed now, and gojo just wants to shut you up and make you take back all your apologies.

“it was!” you counter, not minding how your roommate slips his hand around your waist and is just inches from you, “but…”

gojo never truly loses his personality even when he’s hot and bothered, “but what, princess?”

that’s new.

you grin at his chivalry even when you’ve got your chest all vulnerable like this: he’s trying to break you with his eyes, the one thing that led you to choose baby blue in the first place. you win when his eyes flit down to your tits.

“but you still ended up sending me a video of you jerking off — hardly any decorum, huh, satoru?”

gojo rolls his eyes, hands trailing up your body and coming to rest at your boobs, “yeah. but you love it.”

that’s all he says before he dips down and takes a nipple into his mouth, leaving your hands to tangle in his hair as your back arches to give him more space. he’s so hungry, swirling his tongue around your hardened bud as he kneads the other, eyes occasionally meeting yours from your chest.

“d’you like the vid?” his speech is muffled.

“like it? i loved it—” a soft moan leaves you, “didn’t know you were such a sub, though.”

gojo laughs into your skin and you’re obsessed with the feeling, challenging him when he reaches your eyes again with a glint in his eyes.

“oh, you’re in for it, baby.” gojo grins, capturing your lips and feeling so free now that everything’s out in the open. he’s finally able to feel your lips on his, so soft and slow, making him go crazy from such a simple gesture. gojo pushes you gently onto your bed, kissing down your exposed body before coming to your pelvis, playing with the hem of the underwear.

“gotta thank this little guy for solving our problems.”

“please do not call my lingerie ‘little guy’,” you giggle, letting him remove the garment and you preen at the praise he gives your pussy.

“s’wet… is this all for me?” gojo shamelessly inhales your essence, the sight of him between your legs enough to make anyone cum.

“yeah…” it’s a whisper when you say it, breathless and impatient yet loving the way he treats you. “i get wet only for you, ‘toru.”

gojo moans at that, eyes rolling back momentarily before his mouth descends on your pussy and you think you can hear a brief hymn of hallelujah. he savours your cunt slowly, licking lazy stripes up and down your pussy and your moans match them — soft, drawn out — hands playing seamlessly with his hair. gojo’s startling baby blues meet you for a second and he smiles softly before he places a kiss to your clit.

a twitch, and satoru fully shows his expertise in the next second, eating you out like he was a starved man and you were the last meal on earth. your roommate sucks on your clit, groaning into your core as he feels your thighs close in around his head and your heels dig into his back. he switches easily to your hole, driving his tongue into the leaking entrance and his nose starts to nudge at your nub.

“satoru— s-shit!” your moans increase in volume, hands pulling harshly at his locks. “feel s’good—”

“yeah?” he speaks into your cunt, slurping up your juices time and time again until his jaw aches. your pussy just tastes so sweet that it’s got him grinding into the bed, too, relieving his cock with desperation. “was made just to eat you out, sweetness.”

“doing so well— are you close?” it was difficult to hold on when satoru was talking to you like that and devouring you so good, thumb now playing with your folds while his tongue focuses primarily on your clit again. he flicks at it and his eyes look at you for your answer, merely nodding pathetically as his abuse on your cunt is relentless. gojo would love to memorise the way you clench around his thumb, but he’s too fixated on your whines before you cum with a cry of his name.

“o—oh fuck— ‘t-toru! oh my goddd…” his mouth never stops moving even when your thighs tremble around his head and your body convulses, clit throbbing in his mouth and your mewls reaching the highest heavens.

gojo grins into your cunt, making sure you watch him as he collects all your juices onto his tongue, giving your pussy one last satisfied lick before he sits up, making quick work of his pants and he shows you how to not have one ounce of decorum like you commented on earlier—

because as he pumps the cock you saw just minutes ago, you tongue darts out to lick your lips unknowingly. as he drags the tip along your folds, you’re spreading your legs wider for him. as he slaps his cock along your cunt, your hips are moving on their own accord to feel more of him.

“filthy girl,” gojo leans in to your face, “talkin’ bout me having decorum. you should see yourself.”

you laugh, bringing him in for a brief kiss. you liked that you still could banter in times like this.

“i’ll admit i never had it, so it would b-be—” gojo slips just the tip in and you’re cut off, a choked whimper leaving you, “hypocritical to criticise you.”

“ya think?” gojo wiggles his hips gently, sinking into you and the squeeze of your cunt around his cock is too perfect, too tight. his own whines leave him as he eases inch by inch into you before you’re confessing.

“y’know after seeing you jerk off that day— f-fuck, in your room,” you mumble, wrapping your legs around his middle that causes him to moan, “i wanted nothing more than to help you clean up, cum and all.”

gojo chuckles breathlessly, you two have been pining for months? but he recovers just as quickly, bottoming out with a loud sigh. he lets your hands travel over his face, holding it in your palms.

“y-yeah? why didn’t you?”

“wasn’t sure if you liked me—” a whine cuts through your words as he takes the first slam into you.

“i’ll make sure you know how much i like you, baby, ‘kay?” gojo manages to get out before his hips moves into you, no longer able to hold conversation with the way your cunt sucks him in. he’s determined now, to show you how someone like you had a hold on him so strong that he was willing to pick up dirty clothes and take time out of his day to collect groceries. it’s not long before your roommate is able to pick up a pace, loving the way you trap him with your legs as his hips piston in and out of you.

the room is so much more stuffy, now, filled with the scent of sweat and sex as his pelvis meets your ass in timed thrusts. it was so filthy, too, cum from your previous orgasm aiding him as lube and sticking to his pubes from how much you were dripping.

“y-yeah— fuck me like how you’ve been wanting to, ‘toru—” you mumble out softly, already drunk on his cock. you swear you can feel the veins and his cockhead twitch at that, the sounds of the other filling your ears.

“you take me so, so well, baby,” gojo praises, face buried in your neck as he gives you kisses there, mind blank except for how you’re so wet that your arousal is spurting everywhere each time he comes up to the hilt in you, “taking my cock and squeezing me s’good.”

little pants leave you at the affirmations, and like always, gojo is a fast learner, already knowing your sweet spots when a hand sneaks down to rub at your clit. the circles go in time with his thrusts, and before then, you’re jerking in his arms, nails scratching at his back as your pussy spasms on his cock. gojo groans into your skin, hips still ramming into you before the clench of your cunt prompts him to cum as well.

“right there— s-shit!” you’re moaning when you can feel his cum seeping into you, the exact thing you’re imagining feeling even better as he loads you up, but you don’t have time to react when gojo flips you over. a quick glance to his face tells you he’s intoxicated on your pussy, pressing down on your arch.

“can you handle— another load— baby?” it comes out in between his thrusts, the way he begs to cum in you again and you’re never one to deny when you’ve wanted this for the longest time. you let satoru use you, face buried in the sheets below you while his thrusts start to turn sloppy. he’s not giving one fuck that he’s cummed the fastest he’s ever done before and how he’s going to do it again, but it’s inevitable when he’s got your cunt wrapped around him.

“y— yes, satoru— want you to fill me up, p-please—” it all overloads him: the way his cock disappears into your hole, the residual cum from earlier sticking to your ass and his pelvis, that white ring of semen around the base of his dick, your desperate pleas and cries.

it only takes one stroke of his hand on your clit before you’re cumming so fast again together with him, fingers grasping at the sheets as your pussy flutters around his length and you get his second load in return. it’s so viscous and hot, spilling into your hole. it’s so much, body going limp against satoru’s messy thrusts as he continues to rut into you, stilling finally when he starts to cramp in his thighs.

“attagirl, that’s it, sweetness,” gojo gasps out from behind you, staying locked in you as his cock spurts out the last bits of his cum. he presses a small kiss to your shoulder, asking softly into your skin if you were okay.

“more than okay—” a small mewl is heard when gojo pulls out slowly, sighing to himself upon seeing the way your cunt push out his cum naturally. there’s so much of it, spilling onto the sheets, but before he can take it upon himself to plug two fingers into your entrance, you’re dragging him to lie properly on the bed—

“not done?” your roommate laughs, a hand playing with your neck and the hickeys he’s left there.

you shake your head, noting how satoru’s cock is still sensitive when your hand closes around it, and you finally can see gojo in all of his glory when your tongue kitten licks at his tip and a shiver travels through his body. his hooded eyes and the buck of his hips are all you need to continue.

“i haven’t told you how much i like you, ‘toru. should i show you now?”

somewhere on your dresser, there’s several messages from your girls, but you’re too preoccupied with satoru’s cock in your mouth to notice — ah, well, you’d update them later.

[6:23pm, operation get (y/n) a partner]: photo attached (4)

@(y/n) girl where is your pic !!!! show us that cute baby blue lingerie pleaseee!!

[sakur4ii]

Rooted Connections

Charles Xavier x Erik Lensherr x Reader

the gender of the reader is not specified // based on X-Men Days Of Future Past, but the scenarios are made up

Summary: You are blind, and you control the earth (you also listen to the plants) you are like a mutant version of Toph Beifong basically. Also you and Charles bullying at Erik for not noticing the obvious.

maybe part 2 in the future? let me know if there are any mistakes because English is not my first language.

Charles "I'm not good with violence" Xavier

"‘Can I know where we are going?’ Charles asks, irritated by the mystery Logan is adding to the situation.

‘You'll see,’ the man replies with a half-amused smile.

In the future, you were a legend, a myth. The original X-Men never stopped talking about you when Logan arrived at the mansion, and over time, their respect for you and your amazing deeds only grew. Something Logan struggled to learn about you was that you had a romantic relationship with both Charles and Erik. He didn’t understand it until Ororo explained that it was a polyamorous relationship, which helped him understand much more about the Professor and his nemesis.

In the horrible future from which they sent him, Erik and Charles ordered him to force a reunion between the two of them and your first meeting with them.

Part of him found the situation amusing, feeling like Cupid but with bone claws instead of a bow and arrows. Another part of him hoped that this forced encounter wouldn’t jeopardize the relationship destined to be in the future.

Once they arrived at what was supposed to be your home, Peter was the first to get out of the car, followed by Hank, Charles, and Logan.

They were in a place slightly secluded from the city, full of forests, dirt, plants, and flowers. There was only one house in sight, well-maintained and decorated on the outside; Charles gave you credit for that.

They walked up the short driveway, and Logan didn’t even need to knock for the door to open by itself. Logan smiled amusedly while the other three men glanced at each other in confusion.

‘Excuse me,’ Logan murmured, entering the house, closely followed by the others.

The house was cozy and minimalist, with the few pieces of furniture placed against the walls, giving the appearance of more space than there actually was. They entered what seemed to be the kitchen, where there you were.

You had your back to them as you did something on the kitchen counter. Judging by the sound, you were preparing coffee.

‘Coffee or tea?’ you asked disinterestedly, creating another round of confused glances.

‘Coffee,’ Peter answered with a smile. Logan sat down at the table on the side of the kitchen, which had three chairs.

‘I suppose the furry guy and the one who's supposed to have paralyzed legs are more into tea,’ you commented as you set the water to boil. You pointed to the fridge next to you. ‘There's beer in the fridge.’

Logan raised his eyebrows at the two completely confused men in the kitchen doorway as he went for the said beer, while Peter took a seat.

Hank and Charles didn’t understand anything. Were you a telepath? Hank was in his human form, and Charles was full of the serum to be able to walk, so… how?

Logan returned to his seat, and that’s when you finally turned around, leaving them all (except for Wolverine) surprised.

Although you usually wore sunglasses, you had taken them off when your plants alerted you that someone from the future was coming to see you. Your eyes were white, lost.

You put your hands in your pockets and leaned your back against the counter. ‘I suppose they want you to help them get Magneto out of the Pentagon.’

‘She’s good,’ Peter murmured in amusement.

‘Are you a telepath?’ Charles finally asked, crossing his arms.

‘No,’ you smiled at him.

‘Then?’ Hank asked this time, while Logan just watched the interaction like it was a soap opera, sipping his beer.

‘I control anything to do with the earth, I understand plants, and I see through the roots of trees, although I can also sense all your movements through the ground we’re standing on,’ you explained, serving the tea and coffee.

You heard Peter whisper ‘cool’ as you handed out the cups.

‘Your plants told you,’ the professor concluded, taking a sip of tea, which happened to be his favorite flavor. You nodded.

‘People have told me you have good reflexes; is that true?’ Wolverine’s question made you smile slyly.

‘Of course it is.’

‘Then catch this,’ he challenged, tossing the empty beer bottle at you.

Hank and Charles looked horrified as he threw the bottle, while Peter was ready to intervene if necessary.

Through your bare feet, you could feel how almost everyone’s heart skipped a beat, but you caught the bottle in mid-air as if it was nothing. The collective sigh of relief that followed made you laugh.

‘So, are we going or what?’

-------------------------------------------------------

After successfully getting Magneto out of prison, you had to sit with Charles and Erik on the plane, according to Logan’s poor excuse, ‘So they don’t kill each other.’

After a tense conversation between the two, during which you just sat in silence, Erik spoke up.

‘Why are you barefoot?’

‘So I can see you'

Erik frowned in confusion, while Charles barely suppressed an amused smile. Erik still hadn’t realized that you were blind, since you were wearing sunglasses, and you hadn’t given any indication that you were. Of course, Erik found it odd that you were always looking straight ahead and not making eye contact with anyone, but he assumed you might be shy.

‘Am I missing an inside joke?’ Erik asked again, noticing his old friend’s poorly concealed smile.

‘No, nothing, don’t think too much about it,’ Charles replied, trying to hold back a laugh but failing, causing you to smile in amusement.

Magneto frowned in confusion, feeling like he was missing something, and he had to admit it made him a bit jealous. He finally reunites with Charles, the man he loves, and Charles has inside jokes with someone he’s never seen before and, as far as he knows, only met today.

‘Explain to me, what’s so funny?’ he asked, hiding his growing irritation, raising an eyebrow as he looked between the two of you, who were still stifling your laughter. Erik couldn’t help but notice that you were still looking straight ahead. ‘Is it something related to her mutation? I thought Y/N only controlled the earth and talked to plants?

‘You can do a lot with the earth, isn’t that right, Charles?’ you replied with amusement. The man in the wheelchair, who miraculously walks, rested his head on his hand, trying to hide his smile as he nodded. ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ he said.

Erik felt his irritation growing, along with his heart racing at the melodic sound of your shared, complicit laughter.

The gears in Magneto’s mind started to turn as he realized.

You were wearing sunglasses that you hadn’t taken off, even on the plane, always looking straight ahead, not having looked at either him or Charles this whole time, and you said you were barefoot so you could see him.

‘You’re blind,’ he concluded, rubbing his forehead in a mix of irritation and embarrassment, earning loud laughs from both of you that attracted curious and annoyed looks from Hank and Logan.

‘Took you long enough,’ you said, patting him on the shoulder in consolation.

‘Something I don’t understand is, how do you “see” through your feet now if we’re on a plane?’ Charles asked once his laughter had calmed down.

‘The earth has metal particles, and metal has earth particles, I suppose,’ you answered.

‘Does that mean you can control metal?’ Erik now asked with curiosity.

‘Sometimes, although it’s not easy at all, it requires a lot of effort,’ you replied, shrugging.

‘Interesting,’ they said in unison, glancing at each other and smiling as if they were thinking the same thing.

‘I sense tension… are you two going to kiss?’ you joked.

The two men rolled their eyes and smiled at each other, definitely thinking the same thing, while you felt confused because they didn’t give you any response."

Pt.2