#and by then i’ll be posting the chapters weekly

[jasntodds]

Penance [7]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 8,230

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fluff, mentions of death, hurt/comfort, mentions of scars, small description of jason's autopsy scar, smut, 18+ mdni

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: It was my birthday a few weeks ago and 2 days later I was in the ER with a bad kidney infection so that's why this is late lol I'm sorry!! lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Jason and you patrol together and it feels like old times. You work well together just as you always have and it’s something the both of you really needed. Patrolling with Tim was different because you had to and you couldn’t really do it how you were used to because it was about training Tim and showing him the ropes. But this? This is like it always was, fighting side by side, teaming up and taking turns interrogating people. You stop at Excellent Gotham halfway through and park yourselves by Jason’s favorite gargoyle to eat.

You think tonight is healing parts of you. You felt hopeless before and now you're sitting here with your favorite person as if nothing has really changed. Maybe you don’t need to punish yourself all of the time and maybe this can be good. Maybe you can let yourself heal from everything. If Jason can, don’t you deserve to try?

“Wasn’t too boring tonight, was it?” Jason quips, the both of you back in your street clothes as you stand outside of your apartment building, Jason having rode home with you to make sure you got home safe.

“Eh.” You shrug. “It was alright I guess.” You scrunch your nose at him.

“Alright?!” Jason scoffs. “Bullshit. I’m a fucking trip.”

“You’re something.” You let out a cackle and Jason is relieved to see you look so happy. You looked lost earlier. “Can I ask you something?” You ask.

“What’s up?” Jason shifts his weight to his left leg, resting the helmet on his hip.

“When do you go see Leslie again?” You look down, tugging your sleeves over your hands before your eyes come up to Jason's.

Jason's brows raise slightly before he shrugs. “Uh…few days, why?”

“Can you, uh, a-ask her if she…ya know…maybe I need…to go.”

Jason nods his head with a warm smile. “Yeah, I’ll ask her and give her your number.”

“Thanks, Jay.” You give him a small and shy smile.

“Of course.” Jason smiles softly. “Hate fucking admitting it, but it’s been helping a bit again.”

“Good. I, uh, that’s why I wanna go. Might be for the best.”

“Good. Can’t hurt.” Jason nods his head.

“Yeah.” You smile softly. “Well, I’m gonna head in but thanks for tonight.”

“Do it again?” The corner of Jason's tugs into a hopeful smirk.

“Hell yeah.” You laugh softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You beam before spinning on your heels and entering the apartment building.

A smile is stretched across your face as you make your way up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. No part of you believes going to see Leslie is going to be easy but if she’s helping Jason who literally died, surely she can help you. And it feels really good to finally feel like you and Jason might be falling back into some sort of normal after everything.

You enter your apartment, pressing your back against the door as it shuts behind you. The TV is playing quietly from the living room, the rest of the apartment is dark. You're so stuck on how well the night went, you almost miss the sound of Molly’s voice coming from your living room.

“Molly?” You question, pushing off the door and walking the few feet into the kitchen, looking into the living room thanks to the open concept layout.

Molly is leaning against the arm of the couch holding her phone against her thighs. A wide smile splits her face as Jurassic Park is playing on the TV. Molly is still rambling on about the first time she saw the movie, completely ignoring your presence. You roll your eyes and walk over to the back of the couch, looking at her phone screen.

“Hey.” Gar chimes.

Molly jumps. “When did you get back?” Molly ask.

“Just now?” You question. “Hey, Gar?” Your brows furrow, looking between the two of them.

Nothing going on, sure.

Molly looks at the time on her phone. “Did it go okay? You’re not mad are you?” Molly questions.

“What happened?” Gar asks.

You look between the two of them and maybe nothing is going on but from where you're standing, it definitely looks like it. You aren't even upset about it, but if something is going on, you think it's weird and confusing neither one of them would just say something but you aren't going to push. It's not really your business or your place. So, you decide, you're not even gonna say anything. You'll sit back and see what happens with them.

“Nothing?” You shake your head. “We patrolled together, grabbed some food, and came back.” You shrug your shoulders. “So, I’m gonna shower and head to bed.” You reach over the couch and steal a handful of popcorn from Molly’s bowl. You glance to the TV, watching the water in the cup on the dash of the Jeep start to vibrate. “You guys are missing the best part.” You state as you start walking away. “Get it together, guys.” You make your voice cheery, making sure they know you're joking and you can hear Molly laugh quietly as you enter your room.

You grab your change of clothes before heading to the bathroom and hopping in the shower. Music plays through the bathroom until it's interrupted by a ding from a text. You peek out of the shower just in time to see your phone screen still on with Jason’s contact on your screen. He’s texted you a quick ‘made it home’. You smile to yourself and continue washing your hair while your phone chimes again. This time when you look over, it’s a second text from Jason telling you you should just meet him at his place around noon and you can go to Home Depot together. You roll your eyes but your smile is glued to your lips while you finish your shower.

You take a seat on the toilet seat with a towel draped around your body. You pick up your phone while your stomach bubbles and twists.

You: What? Don’t trust my driving?

Jaybird: No ☠️

You: Fuck you 🔪

Jaybird: I’m really shaking in my boots babe

You: You suck

Jaybird: 🤤

You: 🤮

Jaybird: 🖕

You: Ill see you tomorrow I do like to be chauffeured around

Jaybird: How many times did it take autocorrect to get that word right?

Your jaw drops before you burst out laughing. He’s such an asshole but it did take more than a few tries to get that damn word right and he would know.

You: I will walk over to your apartment and fucking stab you so fucking help me jason todd

Jaybird: You’d have to catch me first babe

You: That a dare?

Jaybird: I dare you

You: Okay

You toss your phone and immediately start getting dressed in sweats. You don’t bother with makeup or anything else. You get the bathroom tidied up before you exit the bathroom, phone in hand before you go for your backpack. Molly is still peaking over the couch on her Facetime call with Gar.

“What’re you doing?” Molly asks.

“Going to stab Jason.” You answer casually while Molly looks to her phone at Gar.

“She’s doing what?”

“He dared me, Gar!” You yell but Molly and Gar can tell by the airiness in your voice it's really not that serious.

“He dared you to stab him?” Molly asks, unsure if she really heard you correctly or if she really wants to any sort of context.

You widen your eyes at her, nodding your head quickly. “Yeah! And I’m not gonna back down. It’s a dare.” You scoff with the furrow of your brows.

“Were they always this weird?” Molly asks Gar.

“Hey!” You yell.

“Yes.” Gar answers with a nod.

“Okay, I’ll be back!” You call with a smile as you kick your shoes on and head out, locking the three locks on your way out.

Jason prepares for you to get there, knowing you take dares seriously. He unlocks the door and shuts every light off in the place. If you want to come for him, he’s not going to make it easy. That ruins the game. It’s silly and he knows but at this point, he doesn’t want to miss even a single opportunity with you. Yes, he shouldn't have wasted a month and a half and neither should you but he’s thinking maybe that was for the best. It did give you both space to start to healing. It gave you both space to start setting up your own lives and finding out who you are today. It seems to have helped and there’s nothing saying you can’t continue while trying to get back what you once had. Optimism is not something that ever came easy to Jason Todd but he’s letting himself feel optimistic about you for just a second.

You pull up to Jason's place, seeing it’s completely dark. At first, it almost scares you, thinking maybe something happened and this is a trap. That would be something that could happen. But, that thought fades quickly because you don’t have that pit in your stomach and Jason would never have played along with anything to endanger you. This is Jason being a shit.

You dig in your bag and pull out your phone, using the flashlight as you enter the building, keeping light on your toes.

“Finally.” Jason's voice rings through the speaker system. “Usual rules?”

This was something you did at the Manor when Bruce was out. You blacked out the entire house, the only light would come from the moon outside. Other than that, it was just you two and a black house trying to locate each other. The only rules were not to permanently injure the other one -- don’t shove each other down the stairs and no lethal weapons. First person to disarm the other wins.

“You’re on, Jay.” You call as you shut your flashlight off, pocketing your phone.

You have your hands at your sides as they start to warm and glow a vibrant shade of green. Your steps are careful, using the glow to guide your feet. Back at the manor, you didn’t even need the light from your hands at one point. You had the whole place memorized from doing this with Jason which did kind of defeat some of the purpose of the blacking out the building but it served enough purpose. Plus, there are more stakes. It has the same premise as Dick’s whole thing with the blindfolds but this is more fun.

Jason is positioned at the end of the hall, carefully listening. He can see the glow of your hands which he said was cheating at first, until he realized he can also find you. He doesn’t need the glowing but it’s definitely not a bad thing to have on his end. So, he stands against the wall, watching and listening to you walk closer. His eyes track you, knowing you’ll search the full hallway before attempting the stairs. A part of him wants to dodge around you and essentially play a weird game of hide and seek but instead, he keeps his feet planted. The idea is to disarm, not to find.

Your hands stop glowing the further down the hallway you get. Jason's brows furrow, still listening to your footsteps. They echo softly no matter how light on your feet you try to be. If you know anything, it’s that Jason likes to play games. He’s going to make finding him easy the first time because that’s the point. And then you’ll have to spar it out until one of you backs off and runs off. He’s done this before so you keep walking with soft feet until you reach the end of the hallway. Jason is like a radiator. He could heat up an entire room if left there long enough so as you stand right in front of him, you can feel the space between you growing warmer.

You strike first, just missing his head as Jason grabs your arm. He spins you around as you kick your leg around his, sending you both to the ground. Jason falls on top of you, barely catching his weight on his hands to not crush you and you don’t miss a beat, crawling from under him only for Jason to grab your ankle and yank you back. Jason hears your laugh through a squeal.

“That’s a fucking ego boost.” Jason laughs with you.

“You’re not scary, sorry, Jay.” You tease, yanking your ankle free.

“Lotta people'd beg to differ." Jason defends as he hears you run off down the hallway.

“Not to me!” You sing-song, your voice echoing off the walls and staircase.

A smile stretches across Jason’s face as he shakes his head. He starts walking after you, not hearing your footsteps anymore and he knows you've hidden yourself behind some sort of corner so he’s careful with his steps.

A large part of him thought the good parts of him died and the pit kept them. It kept them in exchange for his life, maybe that’s just the price he was to pay in order to live. Someone can’t come back to life without sacrificing something. Look at Ra’s. But, over the last few days, he’s learning that may not have been in the case.

His bones still ache and something still feels hauntingly different but the good parts of him are still there. Tim didn’t even blink when Jason showed up in the alley, he was so unbothered by all of Jason’s training methods that even got you to pitch a fit every once in a while. Jason had a good time training Tim and him and you are back to doing this stupid game in the middle of the night with laughter bouncing off of the walls. He’s smiled more the last few days than he has in two months. Maybe the good parts of him aren’t entirely gone. They were just covered in guilt and remorse.

You're tucked away in a corner and you always wonder how Jason manages to be so silent as he walks. You can be quiet but you can’t even tell when he’s moving until it’s almost too late. It’s for his own protection, he’s been doing this longer, but it’s always fascinating to you and it'd be a little scary if you didn't know him. One second he’s down the hall and the next, he’s standing in front of you without ever making a sound. It’s his most intimidating quality.

But you're careful anyway, listening, focusing on your surroundings and then the hairs stand up on the back of your neck with a subtle throb starting to your right. You dodge just as Jason's fist flies through the air and you grab his arm, elbowing the inside of his arm. Jason lets out a groan and you twist it around before Jason laughs.

“It’s cute you think you still stand a chance.”

“I’ve taken you before.” You quip, holding his arm behind his back.

“You’re out of practice.” Jason chuckles, pulling his arm away before he spins back around, going to grab you but you jump back.

“So are you.” You quip.

“You sure?” Jason asks making you nearly scream. He’s right in front of you now and you didn’t feel him that time. His breath is fanning over your face and without needing to see him, you can tell he’s smirking, cheeks probably that pretty shade of pink.

“Uh-huh.” Your voice catches in your throat.

“Right.” Jason gives you this chuckle that makes you want to kiss the smirk off of his face but you know you can’t very well do that now so instead, you make your move.

You quickly slide to the right before kicking his feet from under him. Jason lands on a knee and he swipes his leg across the floor, knocking you down just as you try to run off. It’s Jason’s turn to get to his feet and find a new spot.

The two of you go back and forth like this and it’s different this time. Usually, you spar hard and you both make solid efforts to disarm the other but this time, you’re spending a lot of time hiding and running. It wasn’t so much intentional at first from either of you but the more you do it, the more you realize this is just more time to spend together. Tomorrow comes eventually and tomorrow always has some sort of surprise in it. Tonight, you don’t wanna worry about that. You spend your time in the dark, finding each other and going back forth with fists and quips.

Two hours in, Jason is hiding out on the landing of the first staircase, tucked away in the corner. The window is two feet away from him, the city lights cascading through the pains and onto the wood flooring. His eyes stay trained in front of him, hearing you from downstairs walking around. You've been looking for a few minutes and Jason is wondering if you’ll give up. And then he hears a smack and a groan from down the stairs. Jason has to stifle his own laugh, far nicer than you who burst out laughing when Jason hit the doorframe. You seem to recover okay, your steps picking up a few seconds later and he can hear you ascending the staircase.

Your steps stop right at the top.

You roll your eyes and you know damn well Jason is right behind the light of the window. He’ll be able to see you before you can see him. And if you know anything about him, you know he’s standing right in the corner, right foot lifted and pressed against the wall with his arms crossed and that stupid smirk on his lips. This game was never very fair from your perspective. You've never won. Jason’s senses have always been better, Bruce trained him well. As much as you hate the thought. You let out a sigh, take two steps forward and stand directly in the light, a taunt telling Jason to get it over with.

Jason pushes off the wall with his right foot and makes his move but he’s cautious. You do not give up, especially to him when there’s a game like this in play. He strikes first, you block him in an instant, using the light to drag him from the shadows and you get him with your knee right in his side. Jason doesn’t even flinch, throwing another hit, this time hitting you on your side. The two go back and forth, breathing turning heavy as you use the city lights to your advantage. But, it’s Jason who gets the upper hand as he almost always does, grabbing both of your wrists as you use one to try to punch him and the other to block his hands. His grip is tight and unwavering.

Jason’s chest is nearly touching yours as you look up at him. There’s a devious gleam you can make out even in the low light, the corners of his mouth perked into a subtle smirk. Your heart jumps into your throat.

“Giving up so quick?” Jason questions.

“No.” You let out a soft pout but you aren’t fighting him.

Jason can feel his heartbeat on his tongue. His grip loosens on your wrists but he doesn’t let go. Instead, his thumb rubs your skin softly, not even realizing he’s doing it. It’s been hours and he’s been having a blast and he knows she is, too. For the life of him, he can’t figure out why you both let time go by. He does know why, because it all hurt but maybe it was just getting over the hump of it all. He thinks it must be just as hard for you to overcome as it is for him. But, you both always seemed to be able to cope better around each other. It’s the understanding of every action and word that leaves your lips. The feeling that you’ll both never be alone.

Jason nods once. “Not trying very hard.” Jason whispers softly.

Last night felt so good and cathartic. Maybe you just want to live in another one of those moments for a few minutes.

“You’ll just tighten your grip.” You whisper back, watching a cheeky smirk grow on his lips.

“Doesn’t seem to bother you much.” Jason quips and his eyes glance to your lips.

What if he kisses you anyway? Just one more time. Then you can do this friend thing with the game and the banter. What if he kisses you anyway?

“No.” You answer back, glancing to his lips.

What if you kiss him? Just one more time and then you can do the whole friend like you did before. What if you kiss him?

“How’re you gonna get out of this then?” Jason quips.

Fuck it.

You lunge forward, your lips connecting with Jason’s. He groans and immediately drops your wrists as his hands come to your cheeks, pulling you closer to him. Jason melts right into you, nearly exploding at the seams with the very thought you were thinking the same thing he was.

His mouth moves with yours and you push forward until Jason’s back hits the wall. Jason grabs your hips, turning you both around so your back is pinned against the wall. He kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the flesh. Your heartbeat skyrockets as your hand tangles into his messy hair. Your eyes are closed as a soft moan escapes your lips. Jason bites down, sucking a mark into your skin.

You pull his head back to your lips, the kiss turning sloppy and wet. Jason slides his hands under your thighs, picking you up to pin you against the wall as his knee slots into between your legs. His thigh hits just the right spot making you let out a moan into his mouth immediately followed by a groan.

You pull his hair back, getting a pretty groan from Jason before you go to his neck, leaving your own purple mark. Jason holds your hips helping you grind down against his thigh. The sound of your desperate gasps makes him want to lose his mind. He wants to surrender all control he has ever had and forget anything bad ever happened. His head is lust drunk and all he wants is you. His bulge is growing and throbbing through his sweatpants, desperately wanting free.

You feel yourself growing closer and wetter but more desperate. There’s not quite enough friction and he knows it. He knows this only ever gets you teetering on the edge but it’s never quite enough. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you want to bite him. Your pussy throbs and aches for something to fill you up.

“Jay.” You pant desperately into his mouth.

He fucking snickers.

And stills your hips.

“Jay.” Your brows pinch together as if you're in pain.

“What’s that?”Jason teases.

“Fuck. You.” You nod your head, trying to move your hips but his grip keeps you steady.

Jason leans forward, nipping up your neck making you whine. He can feel your pulse against his lips as he kisses his way up to your cheek. You feel him grin against your skin and you think your skin might set the both of you on fire.

“Say please.” Jason mocks you, whispering in your ear, his voice deep and graveled.

You think you've melted into the palms of his hands.

Jason loosens his grip slightly, allowing you to get some friction for just a few seconds before stilling your hips.

“Didn't hear ya, babe?” Jason’s eyes lock on yours with the quick raise of his brows, using all of his self-control not to cave himself.

There's a sliver of you that wants to push him, see who can actually outlast the other because you know it'll be him begging for you in about ten minutes. But, your head is swimming and your body is erupting in goosebumps. The desperation of wanting him all over you makes you lose every other thought that was once there.

You kiss him, keeping your lips close to his, pulling away just enough to speak. “Please.”

Jason doesn’t waste a single second to dropping his knee as his lips connect back with yours.

Jason pulls you with him, his back towards the second set of stairs as you both walk up them, unsteadily with your lips connected. Once you’re up the stairs, Jason is grabbing the hem of your hoodie, tugging it over you and tossing it on the floor. Jason’s hoodie is next, tossed somewhere in the dark hallway. By the time you reach Jason’s room, he’s tugging your top off and tossing it to the floor.

It’s all hasty and hot, desperate and needy as Jason pulls you to his bed. He lands on top of you, catching you to mind your fall and your hands are under his shirt. They’re warm and soft. They make him feel whole again.

The words ‘i need you’ circle his brain but never quite make it out. He needs you like he needs air. You're the breath of fresh air on the first day of spring. It’s the first day the air doesn’t hurt his lungs. You taste how the word cathartic sounds. He needs you like he needs the oxygen in his lungs.

You scratch up his back and Jason arches his back right into you. His head spins. His lips trail down to your cheek and then your neck. He leaves a second mark in his wake and your head falls fuzzy. You aren’t even entirely sure you're even here anymore. All you know is that you want him and your skin is on fire. You can’t form a single coherent thought as Jason makes his way down to your collarbone, leaving yet another mark. All you can think about his him. His mouth and his the way his teeth graze over your skin, how warm his hand is as it trails up to your breast. All you can think about is the pretty moans and groans that leave his lips as you claw his back again. You've turned to mush all over again.

He presses some kisses around where your braw cuts off, just enough to tease you before he comes back up, kissing your lips. And all you know for certain is how badly you need him. You need him today and tomorrow and every day after. Every moment with him is worth every bit of pain and agony. Every moment without him is boring and lackluster. Jason walks into a room and it’s like a color bomb explodes through the room. His laugh could light up the darkest of hallways and his eyes are the prettiest shade of green, they could convert anyway to love the color. Breathing is easier whenever he's around.

Your hands go to the hem of his shirt and try to tug it off of his head but Jason stops you, shooting up immediately. Your high immediately vanishes seeing the look of panic spread over his feature. Jason’s head comes back, still spinning but down in panic and his chest heaves. What’s he supposed to do?

“I-I’m sorry.” You shake your head, leaning up on your elbows. “I-, uh, I thought…well…I…I should have asked--”

“No.” Jason shakes his head, looking down then back to you. “It’s not…that.” Jason nearly chokes on his own words.

“What’s wrong, Jay?” Your brows tug together and even though you're the one half-naked, he’s the one feeling exposed.

Jason’s teeth grind together and he didn’t really think this far ahead. His mind was clouded with the thought of you and the desire to just have one more fucking night. His mind was clouded with the idea of chasing the feeling you shared just a few months ago. He didn’t think about this step. This part of the whole sex thing. You don’t care. You never care about scars but it hurts him.

Jason clears his throat as he brings his hands back to your hips, watching your chest quickly rise and fall with every breath. He's running through everything he could say. How is he supposed to tell you he has a thick, protruding scar from his collarbones all the way down his abdomen? That can't possibly be some sort of turn on and if anything, he's almost certain it'll send you into a spiral because it nearly does to him every damn day he looks at it. What's he supposed to say? What's he supposed to say without making you feel worse or feel like you need to push to make sure he's okay?

What's he supposed to say in order to keep this moment intact without it being just another moment tainted by painful memories?

“We can just keep doing this. Um…I-I don’t mind…if you don’t.” You try to pull in a breath. The guilt chews at your stomach. “I, uh, I don’t—“

“Y/n.” Jason cuts you off, not wanting you to spiral. “It's not that, I fucking swear.” Jason squeezes your hips and his brows twitch up with reassurance. He's just not sure if he's ready to reveal that part to you. It makes him feel guilty. He's supposed to be able to share everything with you but the shame eats at him. “I want to.” He clarifies, earning a nod from you. “It’s just…” His eyes go distant for a second before coming back to yours. “Stays on.”

You offer him a large nod and you thought it was odd he turned around before to change. Jason has never been very modest about anything ever. He has worked very hard for his chest and abs and he doesn’t mind showing off a bit, especially in front of you because he’s still a shithead. But, last night he didn’t and sitting here now, you're putting the pieces together while a piece of your heart breaks for him.

“I, uh…I know.” You nod softly, pushing yourself up to sit up fully.

Jason sits on his knees, his knees on either side of your legs.

You can't know.

“What?” Jason’s brows tug together.

“The night Crane kidnapped you, you, uh, you couldn’t get out of your gear so I had to help you.” You offer him a soft shrug. “So, uh…I just want you to know that I already know. It’s completely fine, I get it, but I wanted you to know that I already knew.”

Jason can feel his throat wanting to close and his world feels like it's closing in on him. It feels like a nightmare. He doesn't want you to know. It's embarrassing.

“You saw it?!” Jason’s voice cracks as his cheeks burn a vibrant red as he bites his own tongue to try and hide and his shame.

You nod again. “Yeah. You, uh, you were really high and I figured it would not be something you would want brought up.”

Jason shakes his head looking down. He feels tainted, ruined, a mess of broken and damaged pieces piled on the floor to be discarded and forgotten about. He's not even sure what's worse. The fact you knew and then never said anything or the fact he didn't even get a chance to make peace with it before he told you. He hates it so fucking much and it just makes him feel like the biggest failure there is. What more proof does anyone really need? He failed at being Robin, failed at taking down the Joker, failed at being a good son, failed at being a good boyfriend, he even failed at staying dead. It's just embarrassing and shameful.

You can see the gears in his head working overtime. He's going to spiral and the scar doesn't mean shit to you. Your entire back is riddled with them. Any one of those could have caused massive bleeding and killed you. The way you see it, his scars were better because most of them were just part of the job. He got them putting himself in danger for the greater good.

"I don't care, ya know?" You state with the raise of your brows and all Jason does is shake his head. "I don't fucking care about it, Jay. I know you do. Whatever the fuck you're thinking about it, you're wrong." You rest a hand on his cheek. "You don't have to take your shirt off around me if you don't want to. I get it."

"I fucking hate it." Jason states, taking your hand in his, his fingers delicate over your skin. He uses both hands to rub circles into your palm, massaging the muscles.

"For what it's worth," You let out a breath. "I don't. I don't care and I don't mind. That shit doesn't matter to me, Jay."

"I know." Jason nods his head because he knows you don't. It's something in his own head. It's just really difficult to move on from.

"So, whatever you wanna do, I don't mind." You offer him a tender smile.

Jason lets out a breath. “Thank you.” Jason says back. “Did you know? That Bruce had it done?”

“Yeah.” You pull in a breath, biting back your bitterness for Bruce. “He didn’t say why though I was screaming at him when I found out so he didn’t have much chance, I guess.”

Jason lets out a quiet but sad chuckle because even in death, you will fight tooth and nail for him. “You were screaming at him for it?”

“Well, yeah, I thought it was pointless. I figure it’s just legal reasons, maybe.” You shrug. “But I didn’t wanna hear it then.” You chuckle softly. “So, yeah, I uh, I knew he did and I knew the Pit didn’t take it away.”

It's something he's going to need to find a way to make terms with but at least, you're understanding about it. He wishes he had the opportunity to tell you himself but...he's thinking maybe this was easier. You've known and never batted an eye or said a word about it. Maybe he doesn't have to feel all that shame and embarrassment around you.

“White hair, kept all of my scars, and got the one my chest.” Jason lets out a scoff.

“Least it fixed your face.” You quip back with a cheeky smile in hopes it'll help cheer him up a bit.

You see the flash of something kind and cheeky cross over his face.

Jason drops your hand, leaning in. “What’s wrong with my face, huh?” The corner of his mouth perks into a grin and you always have a way to make him feel better about anything and everything.

Your name might as well be synonymous with catharsis.

“Did you want a list?” You raise with a smirk as you tilt your head to the right.

Jason lets out a laugh. “Fuck you.” Jason shakes his head at you and his eyes go to your lips before traveling back up to your eyes.

“Say please.” You lean in closer to him, brushing your nose against his.

Jason shakes his head, bursting at the seams with a devilish grin. His hand comes up to your cheek before he kisses you, pushing the both of you down to the bed.

“Please.” Jason nearly growls into your mouth.

Jason leans up and tugs his shirt off quickly before coming right back to your lips. Your hands tangle in his hair and give the strands a light tug. You push on his shoulder, signaling for him to roll over. You get on top before you trail down and press kisses to his cheek and then to his neck, leaving your second mark of the night.

The words ‘i love you’ bounce around Jason’s head like a pinball in a pinball machine. He’s so in love with you he thinks he might have lost all of his sanity. He did not know it was possible to feel so strongly for another person but he does. And he wants to live here forever. You make him better and he is so certain of that if not for everything that has happened but the reason that Jason doesn’t want to self-sabotage with you. It’s not worth it. You’ll fight and make up and it’ll have been for nothing. All it would do is hurt the both of you and haven’t you both been hurt enough?

You can feel Jason's hardening bulge beneath you. Without breaking the kiss, you slide your fingers into the waistband of his pants, helping him tug them down. Jason sits up, helping you get the rest of his clothes off before he flips the two of you so you're back on your back. You let out a laugh just as you always did and Jason thinks he'd never grow tired of it.

Your hands are in his hair and he can feel you smiling against his lips despite the haste of your kiss. Jason slides his hand under your back, undoing your bra before he helps you get off. His hand goes right to your right breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and finger. You moan into his mouth as your head starts to go fuzzy all over again. You squirm under him and a grin comes to Jason's lips.

You snake your hand to his cock, wrapping your fingers around the shaft before you start pumping him slowly. Jason's mouth opens against you as his hips stutter for just a second. You start moving your arm faster and Jason's mouth trails back down to your neck. His teeth graze the skin and you think you'd let him mark every part of your body without ever putting a thought into it.

He sucks a mark into your neck.

And then another.

And another leading down the scar on your shoulder from the bullet wound.

He stops there, switching to a kiss and your stomach twists while your brain starts to turn to goo. He presses kisses back up to your lips and you're squirming under his touch as you can feel yourself growing wetter by the second. 

"Condom." You mutter against his lips before removing your hand from his cock, precum leaking from the tip.

Jason wastes no time in reaching for his nightstand to tug out a condom. You're already stripping the rest of your clothes by the time Jason has the package in his hand. 

Jason smirks down at you. "Not wasting any time, huh?"

You shrug, almost taunting him as you keep your eyes locked on his, careful not to look down at the scar. "Been a while."

Jason chuckles as heat runs over his neck. "Having withdrawal?"

"I could just do it myself." You quip back.

"Can I watch?" Jason questions and a part of you thinks he's serious.

You roll your eyes. "Maybe next time."

Jason has to clear his throat as his cock twitches with the remark. "Hold you to it." Jason mutters as he finally gets the wrapper open.

"Then I get to watch you."

Jason's eyes flash over to you as his stomach drops and spins. "Whatever you want, princess." Jason finally gets the condom on and you pull him back down to you.

His lips connect with yours, hot and fast at first, hungry as if he hasn't eaten in a month. His cock is lined up with your soaking pussy but the kiss slows and deepens. Jason's hand trails down your right thigh, delicate fingers running over your skin as goosebumps erupt over your body. You run a hand down his shoulder and to his arm, his bicep twitches under your touch.

Jason is warm and sturdy, an unwavering force that you find yourself so intertwined with, you really aren't sure how you've managed to live so much of your life without him. It always feels like he's meant to be around you like someone out there made him just for you and you were made just for him. In some ways, that's scary and feels like a big responsibility, but in others, it's comforting. It's the reassurance that it's just you and him in the end of it all. You'll get there one day. That's how it's supposed to be.

Jason pulls away, resting his forehead against yours before he starts sliding his cock into your aching pussy. The pit in your stomach grows as you start to see stars. Jason's eyes are shut and he's thinking he's left this whole plane of existence. He sinks into you slow and steady until he bottoms out.

His eyes open, locking on yours. Your fingers are lightly running up his arm and the words of 'i love you' almost spill from his lips like an overflowing cup of water. His nose brushes yours and he almost says it. He doesn't want to scare you away with piling too much on you at once. Last night and the scar tonight, he knows you're worried the Titans.

He'll tell you later.

Instead, Jason settles for something with the same meaning.

Your eyes close and the words of 'i love you' almost escape your lips like an easy breath. You brush your nose with his and you almost say it. Jason has been through a lot. You don't want to add to it, not right now. You don't want to add more pressure if he can't say it back yet. You don't want to scare him off.

You'll tell him later.

Instead, you settle for something with the same meaning.

"You and me." Jason whispers to you as he goes to kiss your cheek.

A tender smile pulls at your lips as your heart stutters in your chest. "You and me."

A smile rips through Jason's lips as his heart feels like it's just burst through his ribcage.

Jason pulls out and pushes back in, just as slow this time before he starts picking up the pace. Your mind starts swimming with his quick movements. His mouth is on yours again and you can barely keep up. Your mind is flooded with how full he's making you as your pussy clenches around him.

You try to form words, anything to tell him to keep going but nothing can form quite right, giving Jason the ego boost he doesn't exactly need. He gets the idea and doesn't lighten up. His hand grips your thigh, tugging your leg up near his hip. With the new angle, he's tapping the patch of nerves inside of you. You gasp against him, your nails digging into his back.

"J-Jay." You nearly whine into his mouth and Jason nearly finishes right there with the first word you're able to get out being his name.

"Hmm?" He hums, trying to hold his composure. "Gotta speak up, babe." Jason teases.

"H-harder." You get out.

Jason grins wickedly against your lips, doing as you asked but only for a few thrusts before he stops entirely. "Like that?"

Your eyes shoot open, pupils blow with desperation and lust. "Please."

You don't have to ask again.

Jason thrusts his hips harder and faster than before. You groan louder below him almost immediately. Your pussy is clenching around him more and more and he can tell you're getting close. He slides a hand between you, rubbing tight circles around your clit. You nearly scream with the new sensation.

You grip his hair and pull his neck closer to you just as Jason gets you to reach your high. You let out a mixed whine and moan of his name before you bite down where his shoulder meets his neck, desperately trying not to scream. Tears prick your eyes as your stomach tightens and your whole body shakes and twitches beneath Jason.

It takes everything in him not to lose himself until you're finally finished, panting below him. His hips stall against you as his head hangs in the cook of your neck, his cock twitching as he shoots his load into the condom.

Jason leans up, chest heaving and he places a kiss to your cheek and then your forehead before he rolls off of you to dispose of the condom in his bathroom.

You sit up, wrapping the blanket around you with your chest still heaving and you give Jason a tender smile as he walks back towards the bed. He grabs his clothes as you watch him and you're getting your first full view of the scar. It doesn't bother you but you understand why it bothers him. Seeing it in full, it's a harsh scar, not something that looks like it'll even fade. You think if it were you, it'd bother you, too.

Jason makes his way back to the bed, plopping back down before he leans against the pillow. His eyes are still lustblown as he gives you a soft and tired smile, and you think his eyes are filled with something you became so accustomed to. Your hand goes to his hair, brushing the white streaks away from his face. Jason’s hand grabs your hand before bringing your palm to his lips and he presses tender kisses over your hand.

“For the record,” You start as Jsaon places your hand back down. “I don’t care what scars you come home with.” You say so easily and your word choice doesn’t go unnoticed by Jason. “I know you do but I don’t…” You pause, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Just as long as you come home.” You nod a few times as your brows pinch together.

Jason sits up, his face coming just a few inches from yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t.” His voice is rough and this is a different apology than the one you got on the roof. The one you got at his safe house. There are no stakes in the apology.

“It’s not your fault.” You place a hand on his cheek and Jason leans into it. "I forgive you anyway, though."

He still wonders how you were ever able to bear it. Despite his general feeling of self-doubt and self-loathing, he knows your feelings have always been very real for him. You didn’t cope, that he knows for certain and he’s not entirely sure if you ever will. It’s something you have to make peace with just as much as he does. And he thinks about how maybe that’s an important part of you both moving forward. You forgive him for some reason but Jason doesn’t think you've accepted it yet. A part of him has, it happened to him and he’s alive. He went through it. One second, your world is moving at a steady pace and the next it’s halted, suddenly stopped with no warning and then it’s thrown in the other direction. It sounds more like whiplash. So, Jason wonders if you’ll ever hit the acceptance stage. He wonders how you were ever able to bear any of it. He knows for certain if it were him, he’d never be able to.

Your eyes are soft and tired and there’s the tiniest, adoring smile on your lips. A look Jason is privileged enough to be the only one to receive. And he thinks about he’d never be able to bear the loss of you. It rips him to shreds. It would take all of the remaining good parts of him and shatter them. He’d never recover if something happened to you. Even if it's beyond his control. It’s terrifying feeling that way about another person.

Jason nods against you before he presses a kiss to the palm of your hand. “Yeah…” He lets out a breath. “Thanks for sticking around.”

“Thanks for letting me.” You smile softly. "You and me?"

Jason offers the same smile back. "You and me." Jason confirms. “You still gonna talk to Leslie?” Jason asks as you pull your hand away.

You nod softly. “Yeah. If she has anything open.”

Jason gives you a soft smile. “Good.” He nods softly. He sits back up all the way, looking to his doorway. “Gonna grab your clothes.” Jason chuckles softly, tossing his shirt over his head before he gets up.

You watch Jason disappear through the doorway and you're quick to grab his pillow, checking to see if he’s replaced the knife with a gun. Your chest warms with the sight of your blue switchblade still locked and lying under his pillow. It’s a relief he hasn’t put the gun back. Your thoughts are jolted as fabric hits your face.

“Hey!” You yell through a laugh, your clothes falling into your lap.

“Fucking nosey ass.” Jason nods his head at you, making his way back to the bed with his hoodie in hand.

“You’re an interesting person to be nosey about.” You shrug as you get the blanket off of your shoulders. You can feel the tiredness weighing on your bones and you know if you don't head home soon, you'll end up staying here. As much as you really want to, you do not want to overstay your welcome. “Well,” You sigh as you tug your shirt over your head. “I should probably head home.” You laugh softly, seeing the orange light of sunrise seeping through Jason’s window.

“Guess so.” Jason nearly pouts at the thought. He never wants you to leave but he doesn't want you to feel obligated to always stay just because you're here late. You'll be back here later anyway. “Still gonna help me today?” Jason’s eyes are hopeful and big.

“Of course.” You laugh softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I’ll just sleep for a few hours and how about we like one?” You ask. “We’ll both be out of it if we don’t get some sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Jason says in agreement. “Want an escort home?” He asks but you can tell by the way he raises of his brows and the way he's already moving to get up, it's not really an offer. He's going to do it anyway.

“Thank you.” You stand up, putting the rest of your clothes on. "Just get some sleep when you get back, okay?"

Jason nods with a grin. "Of course. Gotta be well-rested hanging out with you."

"I can not help you." You quip as you grab your bag.

"Sorry." Jason lets out a chuckle.

"Let's just go." Your eyes widen at him to tease him before Jason gestures towards the door for you to lead the way.

prev. chapter

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[doodlinge]

(throws this at you and scurries away)

[sydneyadmu]

THE MANDALORIAN season 3 headers (twitter)

- like or reblog if you save/use!

- the requests are open <3

[bkglove]

In Bloom (chp 1)

Summary: You, a girl with a plant quirk and a suspicious story transfer into UA mid second year and Bakugou wants to figure out what you’re hiding - his reasoning has absolutely nothing to do with the stupid warmth and annoying fluttering in his chest he gets from hanging around you. None. At. All.

Fluff, angst, friends to lovers, mutual pining, secrets, SLOW BURN, strangers to friends to lovers(?) (I may add more tags but you get the gist)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“Watch where you’re going, moron.”

You looked up, just catching the scowling face of the boy you’d bumped into as he stalked away. You watched him go, a frown on your face. 

Some hero school. You thought before scrambling to collect the papers you’d dropped. “Suppose not everyone here’s gotta be nice,” you grumbled to yourself. 

Though you couldn’t be too mad about it, it had been entirely your fault after all. You’d been too busy staring out the windows, ogling the oversized classroom doors, and basically looking anywhere except for right in front of you when you’d bumped into the blonde. That didn’t mean he had to be so rude about it though. 

You didn’t need some random picking up your papers and looking through your stuff but a polite “excuse me” or even saying nothing would have been better than what he’d said. You let out a frustrated breath, so much for new beginnings. 

“Where is it?” You rifled through the hastily cleaned up papers, this day was just getting worse and worse. 

You couldn’t find the sheet that let you know where your new classroom was located. You knew you should have just waited outside the principles office for the homeroom teacher like you were supposed to but you were bored and had, had all the necessary information needed to find your own way when you’d opted to walk around.

“Aha!” There it was, the paper had drifted a few feet farther than others resting right at a turn of the hallway, probably why you hadn’t spotted it sooner. 

You went to reach for it right as a voice called from around the corner “Bakubro wait up!”

You watched with a defeated sigh as the newcomer’s foot landed right on the paper.

Absolutely fantastic first day. You rolled your eyes.

This boy at least had the decency to stop once he realized he’d stepped on something and spotted you staring at the paper under his foot. He grabbed the paper. “Hey! Sorry about that,” his grin was big and welcoming despite housing razor-sharp teeth, he held out the paper. “Wasn’t really looking where I was going.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Okay, so this school was not made up entirely of self-righteous assholes . Hopefully, that last guy was the outlier and not this friendly boy in front of you. You did your best to smile back at him “That’s okay, there really was no helping it.” You took the paper back from him.

“I’m Kirishima,” his grin never faltered, “I haven’t seen you around before, are you a general studies student or?” He let the question trail off.

“I, uh, I just transferred here. From a different school. I’m a hero student.” You tried not to outwardly cringe, the half-truth falling stiltedly from your lips, all things considered, you were surprisingly awful at lying. 

“That’s awesome! I’m a hero student too! Do you need help finding your class or anything?”

He’s like a golden retriever puppy , the thought brought a more genuine smile to your lips, okay so maybe not the worst first day ever .

“That would be amazing. Though, I don’t want to hold you up from meeting your friend.” You recalled he’d been running after someone before spotting you.

“That’s alright, I’ll see him in class anyway.” The redhead, Kirishima, you would do your best to remember his name, waved his hand as if physically trying to dispel your worries.

“Thank you so much,” you handed him back the sheet of paper he’d stepped on, pointing to where it read your classroom.

“Hey cool, we’re in the same class!” He looked between you and the paper excitedly.

“Well, that’s convenient.” You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you, his enthusiasm was infectious. Maybe making friends here wouldn’t be as hard as you’d feared.

“I’ll introduce you to everyone.” He grinned and the two of you started walking. “Oh wait, I don’t think I got your name,” he looked at you sheepishly.

“Y/N.” You replied easily, having decided long ago it was inevitably going to be easier and safest to just use your real name, even if it made your palms a little sweaty.

“Well nice to officially meet you Y/N,” Kirishima replied assuaging your nerves as the two of you continued on your way to the classroom. 

You had to hold back a frown when he opened the door and you spotted a familiar swash of ash blonde hair and a scowling face, all the good feelings and hopes for the day, and the class as a whole coming crashing down around you. 

One asshole and one super nice guy , you thought glancing around at the rest of the students, hopefully, most of them will be nice too . though your hopes for that were not high, you’d experienced firsthand how cruel even kids in a hero course could be.

You looked around for the teacher, part of the reason you’d left the hallway was to find him, assuming he’d be held up in the classroom but it didn’t seem like he was around. Before you could ask Kirishima about it a voice rang out.

“Whose the cutey Kirisihima? Your girlfriend?” 

You looked up to see a boy with electric blonde hair a black zig-zag running through the top glancing between the two of you, eyebrows wiggling.

“No man.” Kirishima spoke first, cheeks pink, “this is our new classmate. I met her in the hall.”

“Well in that case,” the blonde stood up and walked toward you in what you could only imagine was his best attempt at a swagger “Hi hottie, I’m Kaminari. What’s your name?”

“Not interested.” Were the first words out of your mouth before you could think better of it. These were new people, you were supposed to be trying to make friends .

He looked a little sad at the immediate shutdown but others in the class who had been drawn to the conversation chuckled, helping to loosen the knot of tension you’d felt growing in your gut.

“Ah, I mean,” you spoke again, waving your hand around a little, “I’m y/n.”

“Well,” Kaminari perked up, “it’s nice to meet you y/n, I’ll have to do my best to woo you.” He winked and then winced when a girl with short black hair jabbed him with what looked to be aux plugs from her ears.

“Stop being an idiot and leave the poor girl alone.” She scolded him before turning her attention to you. “I’m Jirou, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” you could only imagine how awkward you must have looked, face flushed, shoulders squared, palms sweaty, heart beating fast, you’d been out of the making friends game too long. 

Fortunately, you were saved from any possible further embarrassment as a tall boy with thick glasses and short dark hair stood in the center of the classroom and called for everyone to be seated as class was about to start.

Unfortunately, you still hadn’t found the teacher and were now left standing alone at the front of the classroom no idea where you were supposed to sit. "You have no one to blame but yourself for this" was going to be a mantra of yours at this rate. 

You weren’t left waiting long, almost as soon as the students each found their seat and quieted down did Aizawa enter the room. You’d met the teacher a few times before, in fact, he was a big part of the reason you were able to be transferred to U.A. and given this chance at all.

“Everyone should be seated, class is about to start,” He announced, glancing at you as he took up his spot at the front of the classroom behind a podium. “Right, we have a new student everyone, I expect you all to be welcoming.” You couldn’t be sure but it seemed like the professor had left his eyes a little longer on the angry blonde as he looked around the room. “Okay, go ahead and introduce yourself.” He said looking at you, voice tired and uninterested not giving you the vote of confidence you kinda needed.

“Oh, uh-,” your eyes darted around the classroom. You spotted Kirishima giving you a big grin and a thumbs-up before you let your eyes settle on a blank wall at the back of the room so you didn’t have to think so much about where to look. “I’m y/n. I moved and had to transfer schools. I’m very excited to learn with you all.” The practiced words fell from your lips smoothly and you could only hope it would be enough to not raise too many questions about your past, you couldn’t go through being the immediate outcast again when you swore you’d try your best to fit in with this group of hero wannabe’s.

The class immediately erupted. 

“Hi y/n! We should-”

“What’s your quir-”

“What school did yo-”

“Where’d you mov-”

The students spoke over one another so you couldn’t hear the end of any single question.

“Quiet,” Aizawa spoke, hair-defying gravity as he used his quirk to get everyone’s attention. The room was silent immediately. 

“y/n go take a seat. Everyone can ask their questions after class.” He gestured to the back of the classroom where you spotted an empty desk, quickly making your way over, ignoring the angry red eyes that followed you as you walked past. 

You knew this was the top hero school in the country but damn did they have to take their secular study classes extremely seriously too? You already felt behind and this was the part you were expecting to be good at. Lunch could not come fast enough.

The second the class was dismissed you were surrounded. It seemed, besides the one blonde outlier, this was an extremely friendly class. Or they were all really good fakes but that seemed unlikely. And, against your better judgment, you felt yourself actually getting excited about your future here. Amongst all the offers to sit with you at lunch, you opted to go with Kirishima as you’d already spoken to him and he felt like the safest bet to have the least awkward lunch experience. Besides, there would be more time to get to know the others later. 

It did not take long for you to regret that decision.

“What’s the fucking newbie doing here,” A gruff voice asked after you’d settled into the lunch table. You looked up to see the same asshole from before.

“Same as you, I expect,” you responded automatically, not that you really felt bad being snarky with him, he of all people definitely seemed to deserve it. Based on the snickers from your new classmates around the table it had been the right move. It was almost imperceptible but even his own deep frown seemed to quirk up into a small smirk for a moment as he sat down.

“C’mon man.” You heard Kirishima reprimand the blonde, as the pink girl, Mina you’d learned her name was, put a comforting hand on your arm.

“Don’t worry about Bakugou he’s just a grumpy old man,” She said seriously.

“I’m not a fucking old man.” The object of her teasing scowled at her.

“Didn’t argue the grumpy part,” Kaminari replied with a grin.

The blonde, Bakuguo, (you were doing your best to remember all the names but it was beginning to be a struggle) just grunted in response.

“He’s becoming self-aware!” Kaminari declared falling back with an over-exaggerated swoon onto Sero. The table erupted into laughter.

You risked a glance at the grumpy blonde, you were a bit surprised, at your old school he would have definitely been the type to do the making fun of not the one taking it. You knew that because it had been you. Standoffish and aggressive as a way to cope with the idiots and assholes you were forced to go to school with or face worse punishment. 

Before you could get to in your head about it, Mina patted your arm once more to get your attention. “So where’d you transfer from? What made you come here?”

“I was at the American School of Heroics, so it made the most sense to transfer here once I was moving.” you gave an easy practiced smile. Sure there were way more complicated details than that. But at the end of the day, it wasn’t really a lie so you knew it would pass with no one the wiser.

“A.S.H.! That’s like the top hero school in America right?” Sero, who you’d also been introduced to when you sat down, said excitedly. 

You nodded.

“Woah, so you must be really talented. What’s your quirk?” Kirishima asked.

That seemed to draw even Bakuguo’s attention as you noticed his eyes flick from his food to you back to his food. Not that you were paying him any special attention, or that you cared if he listened, you just happened to see it happen, that was all.

“I can control plants. Well, it’s a little bit more complex than that but that’s the easiest way to explain it.”

“That’s so cool!” Mina exclaimed.

“Can we se-” Kirishima started but was cut off by Bakuguo.

“Sounds lame as shit.”

“Excuse me?” You were taken aback. You see the rest of the table sigh, ready to call him out but he continues before they can say anything to wrangle him in.

“You heard me.” He shrugged again glancing at you for just a second before looking back at his food as if you weren’t even worth looking at as he spoke to you.

“I bet me and my lame quirk could still take you down ass-hat.” And shit, there goes your attempts at being nice. Well, whatever, it wasn’t your fault he was being a big bag of dicks.

“You wouldn’t even be able to land a scratch on me,” he retorted. That seemed to have gotten his attention as he now glared solely at you.

“A scratch?” You scoffed, ”I’d cut that whole scowl off your face.” You leaned forward.

“You sure you wanna make that bet Flower Girl.” He leaned forward too, eyes narrowed the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, but you were in too deep now.

“Any time, any place.” You crossed your arms.

“Training. After lunch. You’re dead.” He stated in such a matter-of-fact way you kinda just wanted to deck him right then and there. 

The others at the table were quick to apologize for their friend but you could tell they were kind of excited to see what would happen.

You risked a glance around the lunchroom, expecting to see more angry eyes looking toward your obnoxiously loud table but were surprised to find no one had even looked your way. You supposed if he was always like this the people in this school must be used to it and no one really cared to notice anymore. The thought comforted you in a weird way. 

You should have been mad at him, but honestly, the arguing was kinda nice, took your mind off the anxiety that built up any time you thought too much about your future at this new school. Besides, you didn’t really know any of these people, for all you knew the kindness, and friendliness could have been fake. But anger, especially at a random person, that was real. And, in a weird way it made you find him to be a sort of calming presence, you cast a slightly less heated look his way before going back to nodding along to whatever Mina was explaining.

Chp 2

[bobawitch]

Sweater Weather | M.S.

summary: reader makes a crochet sweater for her boyfriend matt. she later sees him wearing it in their next podcast

pairing: matt x fem!reader

a/n: tbh i dont love this fic but i hope yall like it. a nick fic and a chris fic as well as a new chapter of lets trip are on their way so be on the lookout.

wc: 878

cw: fluff, that should be it

Matt had been your boyfriend for almost 2 years by now. You had been in plenty of videos and even a few podcasts and for the most part the fans really loved you. That had been a huge concern for you and Matt, so when the fans had an uproar of support and love you found yourself feeling much more comfortable.

On that specific day you had been crocheting while watching some of the triplets videos along with some of Larray’s. You had wanted to make Matt a sweater ever since you started crocheting but you had kept this little project a secret. Your phone began to ring and you looked down to see a facetime from Matt. Immediately you grabbed your phone and picked up, smiling at Matt’s face. “Hey baby” You smiled and waved at Matt through the phone, setting it up so he could only see your face. “Hi love, how’s your day been?” You continued to crochet the last few rows of the sweater, smiling down at your work. “Good, we just got done filming for Friday. How has yours been?”  You shrugged and began folding the sweater. It wasn’t the best work but it looked good enough that you didn’t feel the need to remake it. It was blue and white and black, it was fluffy and had some skulls and hearts on it. “Good, I’ve been working on a little something for you actually.” Matt’s eyes grew wide and he made a small o with his mouth before smiling.” “Can I see??” You grinned and shook your head. “No but you can come over and I’ll give it to you.” Matt fake pouted before you heard some rustling. Soon after you hear a few keys jingling. “I’ll be over in 10.” You nodded, biting your thumb nail with a smile. “Ok, see you soon.” The call hung up shortly after and you turned off the TV before properly folding up the sweater and putting it in an old present bag. 

After a few more minutes you hear your front door open and you walk around the corner to find Matt. You immediately give him a hug, burying your face in his chest. “Hey love, you miss me?” Matt chuckled through his question since you hugged him so harshly. You mumbled and nodded, smiling and looking up at him. “Yeah.” He smiled down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You wanna see your gift?” Matt eagerly nodded before letting you go. You grabbed his hand before leading him into your living room. You grabbed the little bag and handed it to him, smiling and watching him open the gift. He pulled the pale blue sweater from the bag and a big smile crossed his lips as he examined it. “Oh my god, did you make this?” You nodded with a sheepish grin across your face. “Oh my god, Y/N! I love it!” Your cheeks became warm and you moved to hug Matt who enveloped you quickly. He hugged you tight around the waist and picked you up, spinning you in a circle before kissing you. You kissed back, your hands finding their way in his messy hair. Soon you pulled away and smiled at the boy. Your forehead rested against his as you both caught your breath. "Are you gonna wear it all the time?" You asked, knowing your question came from a teasing place. Matt grinned wide, finally setting you down and allowing his hands to rest lazily on your hips. "Of course I am. I'm tempted to never take it off, baby." Your cheeks tinted pink at his reply, mainly because you knew he was dead serious. Your own lips curled into a smile as you wrapped your arms around his waist in a tight hug.

About 5 days later you got the notification that Matt and his brothers had posted their weekly podcast. You of course planned to watch it but as you went to click on the video you noticed what Matt was wearing in the thumbnail. It was the sweater you had made him. You smiled to yourself, biting the top of your thumb nail before pressing play on the video. You finished the video and started scrolling through the comments, a few were about Matt’s outfit which made you grin from ear to ear. As you basked in the glory of having both Matt and his fairly harsh fans like your sweater, your phone began to ring. It was a facetime from Matt. You picked up and smiled, “I liked your outfit in the podcast baby.” Matt grinned and moved the camera to show that he was still wearing it. “When did you guys film that podcast?” “Oh like, the day after you gave it to me.” You smiled, nodding in a sudden understanding. “Well I’m glad you like it.” Matt smiled, bringing his phone closer to him, as if he could hug you through the screen. “I love it baby, thank you so much for making it for me.” Your cheeks became warm as you mimicked his movements, holding the phone close to you. “I love you Matt.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too Y/N.” 

[honestsycrets]

querido i: a reward of 2099 | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | doubleshot; chapter is safe for work.

❛ summary | it's been a long time since you've been with miguel o'hara. when your daughter gabriella finds his wanted poster, life starts to unravel.

❛ tags | mention of murder and minor character death, hidden pregnancy, western au, spanish not translated, outlaw!miguel, baby-mama!reader, slight cursing, angst, threats.

❛ sy's notes | here's to listening to the civil wars' devil backbone one too many times. i needed a break from filling most requests, so i only incorporated one very lightly in this piece.

“Mamá, 2099 is a strange amount for a reward, isn’t it?”

Your daughter was a mischievous girl just like her father. She tore down the poster that was tacked up on the homely post office’s bulletin board as you gathered the weekly post. Coming into town was always a bit of a laborious task. With goods to gather and a little girl to socialize, you made it into town once every week.

"Sure is," Jackson the postman said.

“Thank you,” you plucked mail from the man’s dark hands. “I’ll see you next week.”

He wore a warm, kind smile. Working in the post office, he always seemed to be well-versed in what was going on in everyone’s life. His coal-black eyes shone warmly at you.

“Take care now, there’s wild men out there. What with Peter gone and all, you sure you girls will be okay out there? Rio’d sure put up Gabi and you at the hostel.”

Gabi scrunched up her face tight like a screw being twisted into a board.

“That’s real sweet of you to worry but I’m sure we’ll be fine. We've been out there nine years now. I’ll see you next week, sí? ” You tucked your post into a basket that dangled on your elbow, pulling long and heavy skirts to avoid trampling them with your boots as you opened the door.

“See ya then!”

Gabriella stepped out first, pulling on your lace sleeves as a cue for her delayed answer. She wouldn’t butt into a conversation, but she always seemed to hold her questions for a better time. You sighed, looking at the pale wooden buildings. Saloon, feed store, bank, and the occasional hostel. Over the last decade, the town seemed to flourish, bringing all manner of people to your once tiny Spanish town.

“I suppose they didn’t wanna give the extra coin out, Gabi.”

She looked back to the paper in her hands.

“Wanted dead or alive. Notorious badman Miguel O’Hara, 38, native of Nueva… why that’s here, mama!”

Your blood chilled. Congealed even. The sun nearly blinded you, even with the hat that kept the hot sun off of your head. You stepped off the doorway and onto the dusty ground, spinning on your heel to face your little girl with your dark blue fan in your hands, waving the heat of the day off your flushed skin.

“Wanted for--”

You swiped the paper from her fingers.

“That’s about enough of that. We best get on our way, we got goods to buy, the undertaker to see, and a new dress to fit for your papá’s funeral.”

“I was just reading it. In case we see him?”

“We won’t. It’s been a time since he’s shown himself around these parts. You have no business looking at-- that kinda man. He’s a troublemaker. Now get in the cart, let’s not dolly around.”

You would know.

“O—okay, mamá.”

“I’m sorry, Gabi, I don't mean to yell. You’re all I got, preciosa,” you wedged the paper into a new bible, right next to your wooden rosary, and flung it into the basket.

"I know."

You started ahead of her, fussing with your white veil, sparing no expense to the many questions that she had that day. You had just as many questions as she did.

You just couldn’t articulate them to a grieving little girl.

Do you think it's a boy or girl? the seamstress asks a woman in her shop. She fashions all sorts of fashions from birth to death. Her store is stuffed to the brim with frilly and lacy baptismal dresses. Your gaze fell on her belly, tracing the curve.

"Una niña," she says. Her voice triggers something old, some ancient memory you've suppressed. His voice in your ear, a soft kiss on your head. You're sitting there, next to the little girl that he always wanted, haunted by the flood of memories that comes with looking at another woman's pregnant belly.

"You're not like the others. Aren't men supposed to want sons?" you teased him. Miguel snorted, his arm underneath your neck as he gazed up at a sky of glittering stars. The air was lightly warm, a light wind fluttering through the tall grass. Post-relation bliss was warm on his skin, peaceful and quiet.

"For what? Men are jealous of sons," he muttered, shifting his head to kiss the top of your head. "Little girls are... the light in their lives. I'm going to call mine Gabriella. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"That's a real pretty name."

"Sure is. ¿por qué?"

You didn't tell him why. That you hid a secret underneath the layers of your dress. A secret that you knew Miguel would have more than an issue with if he knew.

"Mamá?" Gabi shakes your arm, "Mamá we're next."

Your mind likes to pull mean tricks on you.

Wanted for double murder.

Miguel O’Hara was always somewhere between a hangman’s knot and three mouths to feed. For you, the latter. You were under no illusion of the sort of man Miguel was.

Every look at your daughter’s soft, peaceful face at night reminded you of him. You worried that the more she looked at posters of Miguel, peered into an artist’s rendition of Miguel’s slight, sultry eyes, lush lips, and strong jaw-- she might be able to locate the similarities when she looked at herself. That was why you had to take the flyer from her. The artist sure had a fine hand at drawing him, the man who danced in your dreams by a warm fire and stayed up late counting the stars. He’s gotten thicker, you thought. You sat on the rocking chair as she slept peacefully, rocking back and forth on the chair.

A violent knocking at the front door swept you free from your thoughts. You snatched up the silver lantern, yanked a fine ivory rebozo over your shoulders, and rushed down the stairs. The booming knocking became louder, more urgent. The movement was mechanical, with no husband to answer the door for you, you checked the window first. The man who stood there was not a man you’d want to see. Not now, not back then. He had a wicked face that sat beneath a wide-brimmed hat that obscured the balding spot on top of his head.

God, not him. He was obsessed.

“Buenas noches, Doña O’Hara,” he peeped into the window.

“Bendito, don’t call me that,” you rushed out, the heavy wooden door slamming to a close behind you. “I’ve told you already, he is not here.”

“And I don’t believe you. First, your man-loving husband dies. Next, sightings of Miguel a town over. ¿Qué piensas? Hm? What comes after that?”

“My husband was trampled, Aaron. By a bull. He was a hard-working man who worked with violent cattle. These accidents happen. Why don’t you ask the undertaker?”

He wouldn’t. Although you don’t think Aaron is a complete idiot, he surely has his own motivations for which leads to follow and which leads to ignore. Your husband’s death was one of them.

“I’ll tell you what comes next. You come next. It’s only logical that he would come back to you. You have his daughter and all. Or… does he not know about that? I seem to recall him running out of here like a bat outta hell.”

“You’ve checked my property three times. Barn, basement, home. It’s been nine years, Aaron. Gloria a Dios, he’s probably remarried and forgotten me by now.”

“Not according to my reports.”

You hate the twinge of delight that comes from that admission. Your cheeks warm with blood, highlighting the rouge that sits across your cheeks. He chuckles caustically at how easily it shuts you up. Aaron takes a step forward, his deep leather boots creaking along the aged floorboards.

“What’d you want me to do with that information?”

“If he comes to see you, and I know he will,” he reached out for your chin. Your hand connects with his, shoving him back. “Tell me. You know, it’s a crime to kill another man without good cause.”

“You wanna catch Miguel for your own reasons, Aaron. Don’t bring none of that holier-than-thou bullshit to my footstep.”

“She can curse,” he laughs again. “Here I thought you were a good Christian woman.”

“Don’t try me,” He tries to corral you against the door. You flip your skirts up, his eyes following the motion. You seize the handgun strapped to your thigh, threatening to pull it on him. Aaron slides back, holding his calloused hands up. "Get off my property."

“I’m just saying. If you see him, you know where to find me. Who knows, you and I could work a lil something out.”

Even if you knew where he was, you would be hard-pressed to turn him into Aaron Delgado. You knew Miguel O’Hara would kill him. So, really, it was for his good. You watched him beat down the squeaky steps and mount his horse, fading into the distance of dark, twinkly stars. You probably shouldn’t be praying that robbers got ahold of him.

But only Diosito could judge you for that.

You dipped down to pick the lantern up, stepping off the steps to ensure that he was not just off your property, but properly gone. Then, seeing him set off toward town, you gazed up at the deep night sky. It was littered with an abundance of stars, massive and twinkling brilliantly. Miguel’s favorite constellations shone brightly in the sky. The Anglo called it-- Orion’s belt. Around here, it was named for the hunter: the deer, the pronghorn, and the sheep. You count each of the stars on your way back indoors to sleep in your empty bed.

You prayed Aaron’s hunt would be fruitless that night.

With your husband's untimely death came several complex decisions. Namely, what to do with his cattle hands and the animals under your care. You were fortunate enough to have support from the community in caring for the cattle, but you knew human affection did not last forever. You could sell his property at a scam of a price as a woman or you could keep it and work bitterly on the farm.

Or, as Aaron suggested today in the cover of concern, you could remarry yet again. It was nearly the only good option. Working wasn’t sustainable when you had a little girl to raise and a whole host of children to teach, as you always had. It would be nearly impossible to find someone like your dearly departed husband who knew your situation and couldn’t care less about it.

It’s good for a lil girl to have a father, he says. You know that-- but Aaron should be no one’s father. Not Gabriella’s. Miguel would’ve never approved. Neither did you.

You loosened beads of sweat from your hair as you returned inside, the ends of your skirt matted with dust. Gabriella would return home from school soon and you were fully intent on feeding her a slice of fresh peach pie.

You made your way into your home, your boots between your fingers. The smell of a smoky hearth piqued your attention. It didn’t arise from your great big wood stove that sat against the wall, ready to cook fresh tortillas, but the sort of hearth settled in the deep outdoors.

“Dios mío.”

Miguel sat there, plain as a field flower. His fingers tapped over the heavy wooden table, rolling in succession. He’s older than you remember-- jaw peppered with dark facial hair, his hair dark and wild, set away from his kind eyes that caught yours as quickly as you caught his. You dropped your boots at your feet, backing up once, twice.

“Don’t run, you won't get far,” his voice trilled, low and warm. Beside his sombrero on the table sat a thick rope and his gun, you don’t want to know which one he was planning to use today. His head twisted, a mused smile growing on his face. “You look so surprised, amor. You had to know I was coming.”

The nickname cut more than it used to. You had not been someone’s amor in a very long time. Married strictly by the weight of paper, you don’t exactly recall what the fleeting emotion of love felt like. Wisps of it licked a dead flame to life in your stomach.

“Miguel.”

“You look gorgeous,” Miguel hummed, turning his impossibly broad arms one over the other. You don’t remember him being this thick. He lurches onto his leather boots, taking a few practiced steps closer. Brilliant, you think, you’ve languished years thinking of this moment just to smell of sweat and cow shit. You suppose he’s smelled worse as an outlaw, a name that doesn’t quite fit the handsome man before you.

“You were always a bad liar.”

“Look, not smell.”

“My point stands,” you say.

Your normally practiced updo has gone frizzy, bits of hair escaping the clips that kept it flat against your head. Miguel’s eyes flickered over the strands, then down to your skin flush with blood and exhaustion.

“Mine too.”

You stared at him a moment longer before you found yourself laughing, just a light-- a small thing that you had failed to do over the past week. His death, and the subsequent funeral, was all too miserable. Now he was here and for a moment, just a brief thing, everything didn’t feel so earth-shatteringly dire.

He cracks a smile, drawing his hand to your flyaways, soothing it down against your head. You should be more angry at him-- settling you with a baby like he did and disappearing into the long grass with Widow and not a word more.

“I missed you,” you said quietly. His hand falls away from your head, drifting past his dark blue vest, and hooking at the fat metal belt buckle. “Pero… why are you here?”

“I heard Peter passed,” he said in a practiced tone. “I was a few towns over. Seeing how he’s taken good care of you all these years, I dropped in to say my dues to him. Came to see my girl too.”

The grief may not be readable in his eyes, but you know he’s practiced it in the same way you did for your Gabriella. Her only daddy was gone, deep in the cold earth. His words echoed in your ears, cutting through your grief bright and resonant. You wonder if he knew, but logically, you knew he couldn’t. Miguel always wanted to be a father.

“Who’d that be?”

“You,” Miguel turns your name over, making your name sound beautiful and light on his tongue. It’s sweet, like the peach pie cooling in your aged windows.

“After all these years?"

"Claro."

"You... shouldn't be here. You’re a wanted man,” you said. “Aaron is looking for you. You know that, right?”

“He's nothing to be concerned about.” Miguel shrugged off your suggestion. "I'm only wanted in these parts."

“Where else is there?” you said

“Out West. South. You take your pick,” Miguel lifted his hand, tracing your parched lower lip. “It don't matter to me. I seen all manner of places, like it here more than anywhere.”

"There's nothing here."

"Nothing but you."

You felt your stomach swoop, a delight filling it better than any meal you’d had. You parted your lips to say something else, to find a response that would fit-- to tell him the truth. But he left you then, came back when something fit better than the road. You wonder what fortune he must have made on the road that he’d come back. His hand caressed your cheek, rubbing it as if to soothe you. It didn’t.

“You think you can just go and come back like nothing happened? After what you did?”

The front door squeaked, dragging with a long hiss. Miguel peered over your shoulder as if it were instinctual, his hand snapping to the gun on his hip. You stopped him short of seizing his handgun. Gabriella bobbed in, closing the door tightly shut behind her. She wore a plain blue dress, fine ribbon braided in the updo she had on that day. She takes a few short steps forward before realizing who you were talking to.

“Mamá, I’m home!” she gasped. “That’s the man in the— in the flyer mamá--”

“Gabi go to your room.”

“I’m not--”

“Gabriella,” your voice went soft but stern. Nearly apologetic. You had been so hard on her lately. Miguel’s eyes dropped from Gabriella’s huge, doe-like eyes to her nose, then lips. His eyes sharpened, whipping back to look at you. “Por mí, okay? He won’t hurt me. Te prometo.”

She darted up the many steps to her room.

"Gabriella?" He stared at you uncomprehendingly. He quickly goes quiet, searching your eyes for something. You worry that he’s found the truth, your breath light as you walked over to your wooden stove, checking the flame and setting a pot of water that you brought from a nearby creek to bathe with. He follows you to the stove.

“My daughter is home. You should go,” you remarked, less of a command than a meek statement, floundering on your lips at the end. As delightful as it sounded, running off into some other territory, town, or world with Miguel-- it was unfeasible and irresponsible to be with a man whose name was stapled on the bulletin boards towns over.

“How old is she?”

"That's none of your business." Your outlaw hovers over you, absorbing the space, a bundle of heavy muscle and rage that plumes off his skin like the smell of sweat on your skin. It’s almost as if he can smell the regret seeping off your skin, despite knowing you couldn’t have done anything differently. No one told him and you could not reach him. Whatever the reason he stayed away, you were not the one he reached out to for updates.

“Tell me,” he growls, waves of anger causing his voice to shake. The tone is heartless, empty of the nights together, of slipping off with the old cattle hand at night and day, in the barn and the field. You’re stuck in the memory of your lovemaking with your vaquero, now your outlaw man. You missed him.

“Don’t do this. She could be listening.” You pad away from the stove to the window with the hope that he wouldn’t follow. He backs you up into the wall, his calloused hands so tight on his belt that you could draw lines of tension through his veins.

“You're not telling me because she’s mine,” he’s whispering, the words going through your chest, fizzling out into terrible pain. He reaches out, squeezing your hips to keep you put. Miguel leans into your space and buries you in his overwhelming scent.

“What do you want me to say?” you stare at his prominent muscles, the shift that is thrown open to expose his skin. He cups your jaw and throat with his large hand, forcing you to confront the truth. Your eyes blink closed, bits of tears dripping there. Miguel doesn’t have the patience for pity, or empathy, whichever the two you were looking for right then.

“I want you to tell me the truth. It's not hard.”

“Me telling you the truth changes a whole lot of nothing. You're putting her life at risk just being here. You're an outlaw,” you say, trying his rapidly evaporating patience. "You got a bounty on your head."

"It changes it all," he shoves you back into the window, a choked cry slipping from your throat. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to have the truth. Distantly, you were aware of Gabriella’s feet beating down the steps. You’re relatively certain she’d never gone all the way up to her room. In this creaky house you would have heard her door shut, the floorboards bounce. In either case, there’s no point running away from what you both know to be true.

“Sí, she’s your daughter,” you mustered the words in a bid to get it over with. Miguel always had to get his way. “Now what?”

Miguel flicked a look over his shoulder, marked by the heavy drag of his weighted firearm skidding across the wooden table. A life on the run will do that. Gabriella’s tiny hands slipped around his handgun.

“That ain't true!”

“Gabriella,” you cut her short. “Gabi, bebe, put that down.”

Miguel took a step back, pulling his head back slightly as you shifted in front of him. Her tiny head shook, over and over, tears pricking her bright brown eyes. You fooled yourself into thinking that she wouldn’t listen-- because your Gabi was a good girl. A wonderful good girl who liked nothing more but running in the field with the boys and brightly colored ribbons laced into her braids. She was also a mischievous girl who had been trying really, really hard to be good for you this week. Children had their limits.

“My papá is dead,” she said, her fingers trembling about the thing. Miguel’s head tilted in response, expecting you to take care of it. “His name was Peter and-- he liked sunsets and fluffy chocolate calves and--”

“Badly made blankets,” Miguel said lowly. Gabi lowered the gun, slowly, just an inch or two. “Shorn fabrics, uneven stitching, ugly colors.”

“He liked to make you smile-- be helpful,” he added. You snapped to look at Miguel as he rose his hand to his hips, gazing at the floor and rocking. He waits another moment, noting how Gabriella’s head nodded, rubbing away the tears that dripped off the corner of her eyes with her shoulder. She set the gun down on the table.

“You knew my papá?” she turns her arms one over another. “How?”

“He was my friend.”

“Mamá?” she looked toward you, seeking an answer from someone who wasn’t a face on a wanted paper with a reward of 2099 dollars.

“Peter was your papá but-- Miguel is your padre, mija,” you breathed hard, exhausted from years of suppression. She looks at you, not used to this level of betrayal. Her eyes are distant, somewhere in her tiny memories. She whips around and runs out the back door. Miguel turns his eye out the window, her tiny body disappearing into the deep green fields. The sun blinds your eyes as you look out to the fields full of cattle. He reaches for his rope and gun, settling them in their respective places.

“¡Déjala! She needs time alone.”

He heads out the backdoor. He never did listen well.

[dark-fics-4-you]

Ahhh you knocked it out of the park!!! Thank you for doing my request (somno step bro Rafe). Would love if you did more or some virginity loss or something :) I feel like reader would catch Rafe being hard around her accidentally and get innocently curious

Saving the spicy stuff for a main chapters but I was inspired by this ask so here’s a lil blurb 😏

Rafe sat on the couch, scrolling through your instagram feed. Pic after pic of you at parties, past halloween costumes that were much too skimpy for you to be posting for just anyone to see, and photos of you posing with friends filled your profile.

He paused on a beach pic that you had posted a few weeks ago. Sarah was an excellent photographer, and you two frequently did little photoshoots together for each other.

You were in the sand, lying on your back on a blue beach towel, propped up by your elbows with your legs stretched out. The white bikini you were wearing barely covered anything, and Rafe could see your hardened nipples poking through the thin material.

His tongue darted between his lips, pants tightening as he grew hard. Rafe took a screenshot, saving the pic to his folder of his favorite pictures of you.

When he heard the door open behind him, he quickly pocketed his phone, glancing over his shoulder to see you bouncing in with a grin.

“Hey Rafey, I was looking for you!”

“C’mere bunny.” He gestured for you to come closer.

He wasn’t expecting you to climb into his lap for a hug.

You threw your legs over his lap, wrapping your arms around his chest and squeezing him in a hug.

Rafe tensed, trying to think about anything other than his adorable lil step sis sitting in his lap. Despite his efforts, he could feel himself getting harder as you squirmed.

“Do you think we could make a liquor run soon? I have that party with Sarah and John B and the other guys tonight!” You were clearly excited about the get together, a little too excited for Rafe’s comfort.

“You’re actually going to that?” Rafe asked in annoyance, trying to focus on something other than your bare thighs so close to him.

“I mean yeah, they’re my friends! I like hanging out with John B, Pope, Kie, and JJ!”

At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s jaw tightened, jealously flashing through him.

He knew that JJ was just like all the other Pogues. No good trash from the Cut, who would steal and lie to get what they want. But Rafe’s qualms with JJ went beyond just Kook vs Pogue war.

Rafe knew that JJ liked you. It’s not like he had to be an genius to notice, he had seen JJ staring at you so many times that he had grown accustomed to hating the other blond even more than the rest of the Pogues.

JJ was nothing but bad news. The type of guy that slept around and broke new girl’s hearts weekly. The type of guy who would eat you alive if given the chance.

And the thought of JJ putting his hands on you, or even thinking about putting his hands on you, made Rafe want to explode with rage.

“You’ve been hanging around those pogues a lot recently,” Rafe spat out, jaw clenching.

“Ugh lighten up, Rafey. I’m here now, aren’t I?” You asked in annoyance as you rolled your eyes, shifting on his lap.

Rafe bit back a groan at the motion, passing it off as a cough.

“Damn Rafe, you gotta stop smoking, it’s already affecting your lungs,” you teased lightly, completely unaware of what he was hiding from you.

“Mm, hmm, you’re right bunny,” he said, distracted, mind somewhere much different than yours.

Suddenly, he remembered your plans for the night, and he was overwhelmed with the desire to keep you from going out, “you should stay in tonight, Y/N/N. We can watch a movie, one of your favorites. Plus I’ll make you all the drinks you want.”

“Mmm,” you considered his offer for a moment before making up your mind with an excited smile. “Okay! That sounds nice!”

When you shifted again, you noticed something poking at your ass.

“Rafeyy, do you have something in your pocket?”

“Oh uh, yeah, just my phone, Y/N/N,” Rafe lied.

And like the dumb, trusting little sister you were, you believed him.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 81)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (64) / Alexia Putellas x Character (37) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (18)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((3.9k))

Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter bi-weekly, every Thursday and Sunday night until we hit Part 100!

YFN POV

“I love you, little one,” she heard Lucy whispering into her ear between soft kisses to the cheek. “I love you. I love you.”

YFN was far too tired to have woken up to it, of course. She’d had surgery the day before and now she had all of Wednesday to herself to get some well-needed rest after the chaos.

She woke around 11am, groaning due to the pain. “Luce..” she mumbled into her pillow, barely knowing where she was.

No response.

“Luce…” she said again, louder.

Again, nothing. She rolled tenderly and just far enough to see that Lucy’s side of the bed was empty.

“Lucy?” She called, louder. If she were anywhere, it would be the kitchen, surely.

Silence.

She turned back to her side and sat up, seeing a piece of paper on her bedside table with tablets and some water.

Good morning, little one,

I’m at training until 5pm today. Sarina let me have a little sleep in to be with you.

Please take your medication as soon as you wake and text me. I’ll reply when I can.

Jordan and Leah will be over later today around 3pm.

Please don’t cook or go out... just order whatever you need and rest.

I love you, my girl.

Love, Luce xx

YFN couldn’t help the little smile creeping across her face at the fact that she’d signed off with the nickname she used for her. Christ, she’d forgotten about training.

She took her painkillers and downed them with the water before texting Lucy that she was awake. She knew she wouldn’t be able to reply most of the day but would probably get permission to sneak a text or two given the circumstances.

Once she felt ready enough, she pushed herself out of bed and willed herself to move against the pain. She couldn’t go far and wasn’t allowed to put pressure on her knee just yet, and so she slid straight into the wheelchair by the bed and used that to get around. Although she wanted a shower, she knew she had to wait until later when Lucy could help her move.

She checked to see if Narla was fed first before managing to settle herself on the couch in the spot that practically had an indent of her ass and elevated her braced leg. She couldn’t even put her hair up and had to settle for it down and frustrating her. It took all of 2 minutes for her to realise just how much Lucy did for her, and how much she appreciated her.

YFN decided to use her free alone time to get some work done. She’d managed to get herself to the stage of having delegated quite a lot and organised her teams so well that they all went about their jobs, with her as an escalation point. She’d moved her original team up into supervisorial positions and they spoke directly with her the most. She replied to emails, overwhelmed with brands asking when the next event was, as they had gotten new clients and were eager to mingle amongst the football stars. Then she checked on the rosters for upcoming games and look at the progress of editing that her team had made with the videos from the Lumos event. She was excited that she’d be able to start uploading them, as the promo photos had been out for two days.

She used her spare time to create a roster of when they’d release the promos and content for each player, timing it with events or games. There was so much to publish, that it was quite difficult to not clutter too much. They had the content – now they needed to use it as effectively as possible.

She decided that the best interview to start with would be her favourite of the day – her interview with Alexia and Chiquito, paired with Lucy and Narla. She’d originally put the pair together because she knew that Alexia didn’t like speaking English and Lucy could not only speak both languages, but they were friends, and she’d help her comfort-wise and language-wise.

That had been one of the only times that day that YFN had seen Alexia actually smiling. She paused the video where Alexia and Lucy were cutely smiling at each other and it warmed her heart to see.

Her mind shifted to Ridley as she wondered on her. She was back, and it had made her so happy that she’d cried in her arms. She’d visited her and Lucy in the hospital the day before and given her a much-needed, long-lasting  hug. They hadn’t been able to speak much, as YFN had been so out of it on drugs, though she did make a promise to her to speak about it soon. That had been enough for her, and still was. She had just wanted her best friend back.

She remembered their conversation recently where she’d admitted to Ridley that she had wanted her to stay around more, because she loved and missed her. They were such a big part of each other’s lives, and always would be. Linked by history and trauma, and a bond that she’d never had with anyone else. She’d been so happy when she’d agreed to stay around.

“From now on, I’ll be here as long as you want me around, okay?” That’s what she’d said as she kissed her hair.

And then… the heartbreak. The 3am wake up to her absolutely torn. On her knees. Begging her to let her go.  “Please. I need to go, Blue.”

YFN knew why she was there. Usually, it was just a text or a call, or a brief hug and kiss before she disappeared. This time it was an apology. She said she’d be there – but she needed to go. And YFN understood that with every fibre of her being. And so, she’d let her. Because in her eyes, she wasn’t breaking a promise. She knew that Ridley would always be ‘right here’ and that one simple message would have her come running.

Because they loved each other.

She sighed, her eyes focussing back on the screen and away from where her mind had drifted to Ridley.

She’d started several segments within the ever-expanding content machine of Lumos. The first; her couch interviews which she would continue over the next few weeks as she continued to heal. The second; her pet interviews from the event. The third; her podcasts.

They would be the three largest segments that Lumos would undertake – and were presented by her, as requested by Catherine. It was the reason she hired her. For her mind, her questions, her interviewing techniques. Her ability to make players feel calm and comfortable and actually heard instead of led different directions with questions which soul purpose was to pry out information. Not at Lumos. Not in her interviews. She’d never let that happen.

The first interview from her couch segment she’d posted was Lucy’s as she immediately gained popularity from how flirty Lucy had been. The second had been Alexia’s as she rode the wave of publicity that Mark had created. The first podcast she’d released yesterday, containing her co-hosts, Jill and Alex along with their first guests, Leah and Bunny Shaw. She pondered on the pet interviews and her decision to post Alexia and Lucy’s first. Would it be too much to post them again? They were two of the most popular women in women’s football.

After consulting with her team and Catherine for a little while – she’d made the decision to post that as the first for that segment anyways, as it would come across as a strong start to Lumos content. Both segments were a completely different style, environment, and line of questioning. The couch was much more in depth and real, whereas the pet interviews were fun and enjoyable.

As soon as she posted her first of that segment, the doorbell rang and she looked at the time, smiling. Her friends were here.

JORDAN POV

Jordan wanted to stay in bed with that delicious warmth of Leah forever. She woke and shuffled her hoody off, rolling over to cuddle into her neck. Leah groaned as she woke slowly, tightening her grip, her fingers beginning to stroke unconsciously. They stayed like that a while. Slowly waking up by the feel, the sound and the warmth of each other.

Ever so naturally, things evolved. Leah’s stroking became larger, and under the back of Jordan’s shirt. Jordan wriggled into Leah as she pressed her lips to her neck and soon enough, they were moaning themselves awake as they enjoyed the feel of each other.

Jordan’s back tingled at the feel of Leah’s hands and suddenly she was horny. She found Leah’s thigh and hooked her leg over, using it as friction to move and grind against.

“Fuck,” Leah gasped as she felt her move against her. “Don’t stop, Jord. Take what you want.”

Jordan ground against her thigh harder as her body shivered at the feel of Leah everywhere. Her hand found that famous blonde hair of Leah’s and pulled her head back, just far enough that Jordan could properly bite into her neck.

She felt Leah shuddering beneath her.

“Fuck. Yes.”

Leah gripped the back of her head to keep her on her neck as her other hand made its way up the front of Jordan’s shirt to grab her breast as if it was hers. Like it used to be. Like she wanted it to be again. Her thumb found her nipple and played there as Jordan sucked the spot she’d just bitten. There would be a hickey, and usually Leah didn’t like this, but not today. She didn’t know if Jordan was testing her or not, but she didn’t care. She wanted all of her, all the time. She wasn’t ashamed to have a hickey from her. Hell, she wouldn’t even try to cover it.

A bark from below the bed had them both freeze. Jordan pulled away slightly to look down at Blu, her eyes now fully open.

She turned back to Leah who was very much excited. Horny. Her hair a mess and her pupils dilated. Regardless of her state, she was honest with her words.

“We… should be careful. Not until you’re ready, Jord.”

Jordan knew Leah would have stopped, but would she herself have gone through with it? Would she cry again?

She nodded. “I’m almost ready, Lea… almost.”

Leah smiled gently. “I know. Take all the time you need. I’m just happy to wake up next to you.”

Jordan let herself smile back as she pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Can I show you around Birmingham today?”

Of course, Leah had been to Birmingham, though the idea of a day wandering the city together was something she could never refuse.

“Only if I can buy you breakfast.”

“Deal.”

Jordan washed her excitement away with a morning shower, letting her fingers trace over her nipple where Leah had just been. Without thinking about it, her fingers kept playing while her other hand found her clit and began to tease. Thinking about Leah while touching herself was not insanity – though there was a good argument to say that it was as she was just a wall away.

Regardless, she didn’t know if she was ready, and needed to get her excitement out to avoid being a horny mess during the day.

Bracing her head against the tiled wall, she worked her clit and her nipple, eventually coming with a gaspy moan against the echoing acoustics of the room.

Jordan was in her room, staring at her closet and wondering what to wear when she hear Leah enter.

“Did you touch yourself in the shower?” Leah asked.

Jordan spun to her, barely catching her falling towel. “What?”

“You heard me,” the England captain said, stepping forwards.

“I…”

Shit, she’d heard the echoes.

“Yes.”

Leah’s eyes flashed like Jordan had never seen before, and she stepped forwards.

“Were you thinking about me?”

Jordan had to crane her neck back just to look at her.

“Y…yes.”

Leah tilted her head up slightly further with one finger on her chin. “Good.”

They spent the first half of the day in Birmingham, Jordan excitedly showing Leah all of her favourite spots around town, including her breakfast spot. Leah insisted on paying, and Jordan repaid the kindness by reaching out to entwine her fingers with Leah’s as they strode through her local park. Blu happily pranced next to them, Leah holding his leash as Jordan had agreed to. She knew how much she missed him. Missed this. And she felt the exact same.

She just wondered when she would know she was ready for sex with her again.

Lucy had called in the morning, just before she’d left for training, and had asked their activities for the day. She was worried about YFN being alone and almost immobile. Jordan felt like she hadn’t spent nearly enough time with her friend, and so around midday they had the car packed and headed off for their drive to London. A drive that they’d both done far too often as of late.

They dropped her clothes and belongings at Leah’s apartment before arriving at Lucy and YFN’s just after 3pm.

Leah knocked on the door.

A pause. “Come in!”

Blu ran in ahead of them, presumably to find his friend Narla, and the two made their way into the apartment to find YFN on the couch, looking much less tired than she had the past few days.

“Oh, I missed you!” Jordan exclaimed as she bounded over for a gentle hug. “Wow, someone needs a shower.”

“I know!” She sighed, exasperated as Leah hugged her hello also. “I can’t really do it by myself. Lucy will be home in a few hours. I’m sorry.”

“We can help?”

YFN paused. “I… uh…”

“You can be naked or have your underwear on,” Jordan shrugged to show it wasn’t a big issue. “Doesn’t bother us.”

She caught Leah’s look of happiness flash from the corner of her eye as she said ‘us’.

“I guess it would be nice to be all fresh for when Lucy comes home..”

“Exactly!”

The couple helped her into her wheelchair and towards the larger bathroom, rather than the ensuite. They gently helped her remove her clothes down to her underwear and bag her braced leg.

“Can this come off?” Leah asked, gesturing to the sling.

YFN nodded, a little embarrassed but happy to finally be able to clean herself.

Leah removed her sling as carefully as she could, looking at the new bandage and bruises on her collarbone. “How did it go?” She murmured, distracting her.

“Really well... he’s happy with it. I just need to be extra gentle so it doesn’t fail again.”

She nodded. “No more fighting people, mate.”

“Hey – that was very one-sided.”

“I know… I’m just… I’ll be happy when he’s out of the picture.”

YFN didn’t reply until Leah looked her in the eyes. She gave a small, knowing smile. “Me too.”

Once she was under the water, balancing on one leg, Leah left and Jordan stayed to make sure she didn't fall. She distracted her by talking about Leah and their heated morning, and then their day in Birmingham.

“I’m really happy for you, Dory,” she said, genuinely. That’s one of the things Jordan loved about her the most. She was always so genuine and loved when people were happy. “Do you know when you’ll be ready to…”

Jordan sighed as she turned so YFN could wash under her underwear. “I’m not sure… soon? I thought I was ready when I slept with her last time and look how that turned out.”

“You didn’t have closure, it’s completely understandable.”

“I just don’t want to make that mistake again and have us back at ground zero.”

“Oh, you won’t, trust me. You’re levels beyond that already. You just need to talk and communicate. And when you do eventually sleep with her again, go very, very slowly. Slow enough that you’re knowing how you feel at every step rather than bottling it in like last time, okay?”

Jordan nodded and turned back to turn the shower off. “How are you always right?”

“I honestly don’t know how it hasn’t annoyed Lucy just yet,” she laughed, letting Jordan help her from the shower.

“Not much annoys her, I think.”

“Except people chewing or breathing loud. If that’s around – she goes wild.”

“How come I never knew that?” Jordan wondered aloud.

“Because it’s the wonderful, wacky mind of Lucy and barely she can keep up with it?”

Jordan laughed. “Nail. Head.”

YFN POV

The couple insisted on making food seeing as YFN hadn’t eaten and Lucy was going to be hungry when she came home. YFN grimaced at the chaos and lack of coordination that was Leah and Dory in the kitchen, trying to work out how to make a roast. It was interesting to watch, though. They were patient with each other. Kind to each other. Just happy that they were together, even if it was all going to shit cooking wise.

Lucy stepped through the door just before five and immediately looked nervous at the sight of the kitchen and the pair in it. She shared a look with YFN who gave an amused, nervous grin in return.

“Oh, Lucy’s back!”

They greeted her, and then she was immediately by YFN’s side, holding her and breathing her in.

“Christ,” she groaned. “You feel so good. Wait. Did you shower?” She pulled back.

“Yes, Luce,” she chuckled. “The girls helped me.”

Lucy froze, her lips turning downwards. YFN touched them, pondering over them before leaning forwards to gently brush her lips on Lucy’s.

“I still had my underwear on,” she whispered into her lips, even though she didn’t need to. The kitchen was loud enough that they had their privacy.

Lucy made an unsure noise and YFN kissed her, dragging away that overthinking.

“It was friendly help, Luce. I promise. Now go and shower please, you’re stinky and I’m not in a position to escape..”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” The footballer grinned and left for her shower.

Dinner ended up being surprisingly okay and edible. They all sat and laughed, talking about their days and what was happening over the coming ones. Lucy’s family were arriving tomorrow, and the couple seemed eager to join. They’d known Lucy her entire life, so of course they knew her family well too. They’d also both be at the game on Friday, organising to take YFN to watch.

“Oh, and in other news,” she announced spontaneously. “Riddles is back..”

“What?!”

ALEXIA POV

Ridley lowered her head and Alexia’s heart sunk at that. “Is there any hope for us?”

“Yes... Don’t run away again. Move forwards with me, together. I need you to be here for me, like I am for you. I need security. Don’t leave again. Fight for me. Fight for us.” Suddenly Ridley raised her head with almost mad determination in her eyes. And then… those dark eyes lowered to her lips. Fuck. Was she.. was she… about to….

Ridley cupped her face with one hand, drawing her down and reaching up as they met in the middle. Their lips met with passion and need.

Fuck. The way her lips moved. The way she tasted. Alexia tilted her head and her tongue began to brush her lips when… just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Ridley pulled away by sliding her head down, Alexia’s lips brushing along her cheek until Ridley pulled back. Her lips were a plusher shade of red now. That just made her even sexier.

“It’s all your choice from now on, Lex.”

Only if she knew that in her head, there was no choice to be made.

“I’ll stay…” she whispered.

“But not for long… I have to be back…”

“I know. Just a few more nights to be with Blue for her surgery. And then back to Spain.”

“And then back to Spain,” she nodded. “Okay.”

What the fuck was she doing? Alexia was usually so strong and independent. Now she was putty in her hands. And she loved it, because she knew Ridley was too.

Ridley’s fingers expertly unclasped her from her seat and collected her things.

“My bag and Chiquito…”

Alexia bolted upright, her breathing ragged. She looked around, disoriented until she realised where she was.

In her apartment, in Barcelona.

She looked at the time, 8am. To Alexia, that was a sleep in. Especially as her body was so used to waking up early for training.

A warm softness moved against her and she looked down to see Chiquito half awake, as if he’d been woken by Alexia’s dream also.

“Good morning,” she murmured as she let her fingers stroke through that soft, grey fur of his. He rolled slightly and stretched himself out in a way that had her stroking his belly. She smiled.

Alexia took her morning just to herself and Chiquito. He’d explored around last night, though he was still curiously finding new things, new smells or items of interest. She let him explore his new world as she took her shower to wake up and went to the kitchen to make her breakfast. As she did so, she felt herself feeling… a little out of place. As if her apartment wasn’t her home anymore. She hoped it was just because she’d been away for a few days, and tried to shrug it off, thinking it would go away. Instead – her mind moved to Ridley.

Ridley in her dream. Ridley on the plane. Kneeling in front of her. She’d never wanted to touch somebody so badly in her life.

She’d come back… but would she stay? Could she learn to love herself? And how would she prove that she’s not going anywh-

Alexia’s phone rang, and she’d been so in her head that she flinched. Putting the spatula down, she picked it up for the first time that day and softened at the name on the screen.

Ridley calling…

She didn’t even hesitate to answer.

“Hola,” she murmured.

“Bon dia, la Reina.” Ridley replied in Catalan. “I was hoping you’d be awake..”

“I’m making breakfast,” she hummed happily at the sound of her voice.

“Mmn. Did you make enough for me?”

Alexia laughed and gave her the same cheekiness back. “Oh, yes. More than enough. I’ll express post it straight away.”

“Or you could just invite me. Save the shipping costs.”

She rolled her eyes, very aware that she couldn’t get herself to stop smiling. “Okay then, when’s the quickest you can get here?”

“Faster than you will believe. I don’t believe that was an invite though, Lex. Use your words.”

She paused as if she were thinking about it before she spoke softly. “Ridley…”

“Yes, Alexia?”

“Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

Alexia heard a happy hum from the other end of the phone. “How unexpected. I’d love to. Now unlock the door, please.”

Alexia froze – her eyes widening as she spun towards the small hall leading to her front door. She gave a breathy laugh. “You… are very funny.”

“And very much going to prove to you that I’m here to stay, Lex.”

Part of Alexia thought it was a joke. Ridley would do something like that. The other part knew she wouldn’t mess with her promise. She began walking towards the door, the phone still to her ear as she unlocked it and hesitantly opened it.

[morningberriesao3]

As Sneaky Link comes to an end, it just means that I’ll get to work on some other fun projects that have been in my drafts for (literally) a year and a half.

The next multi chapter I’m working on is set back in the 80s. Only this time, it’s not Steve who spirals about his sexuality.

Eddie is straight—he’s just never met the right girl to feel that spark. But Steve over the last years has had a secret that he’s told no one. Not even Robin.

Until Eddie walks in on him in a very compromising position. With another man.

I started this fic as something we hardly see in the Steddie fandom—and that’s Steve being the certified queer, and Eddie having a full blown crisis as he figures himself out.

As promised, below the cut is the first 2.4K words of chapter 1, and in February it’ll be posted in its entirety on my ao3: morningberries

Enjoy 🥹

It was a chilly day in early September—the wind carrying half-brown leaves through the air in swirling patterns that looked like mini tornados. Eddie stared at them from his trailer’s living room window as Wayne’s truck disappeared beyond the bend in the road.

Another weekend alone as his uncle worked a double shift.

It’s not that Eddie didn’t have friends. There was Gareth and Jeff and Grant—the members from his beloved band Corroded Coffin—but he knew Jeff was on vacation with his parents before college started and Grant was working with his dad in the garage on that ’69 Mustang they picked up from the scrapyard over the summer. Gareth, although in Hawkins, had landed himself a hot new girlfriend and spent every waking moment with her.

Eddie couldn’t really blame him, even though he didn’t really get it.

It had been the same thing his whole life, if he was being honest with himself. Since middle school, he’d watch his friends start dating whatever chick they had a crush on, listen to them start yammering about how gorgeous she was or how cool or how smart. How she made them get butterflies in their stomachs, whatever the fuck that meant.

Yeah, cool.

Eddie had dated girls—some pretty cute ones at that. There was Sam, who he dated his second senior year, and they’d gotten along really well. She was what Eddie thought should probably be his type—dark hair, a lip ring, wore lipstick in blacks and unearthly blues. She was even in Hellfire Club and honestly kicked ass at it. Objectively, on paper, she was everything he wanted.

Except he didn’t feel it. Whatever it was. The fucking butterflies, or whatever.

When they broke up, it hadn’t really been the end of the world. He mourned their friendship more than the sexual aspect of their relationship, because Sam had been awesome to hang out with and smoke with and laugh with.

Gareth hadn’t believed Eddie when he said he was fine—took a solid 4 months before Gare actually accepted that Eddie’s heart wasn’t shattered.

Eddie cared more about… God, like, anything but dating. Like D&D, and his friends, and his guitar, and Metallica’s newest album, and making his fucking bed in the morning, and even his therapist. He knew it didn’t really help him look normal to be a twenty-year-old man who couldn’t care less about pursuing girls, but whatever. He was King Freak, after all.

When he met Chrissy six months ago, he thought for a moment that he might be able to convince himself to have a crush on her. It should be easy; a small, thin, blonde, pretty cheerleader is everyone’s type. Maybe he’d just been chasing after the wrong girls. But what he felt on the drive to his trailer with Chrissy in his front seat, as she timidly told him she thought he was kind and funny, was, again… not the fireworks he expected from all the stories of love at first sight.

And then she’d died, which vastly overshadowed Eddie’s worry that there might be something wrong with him for not developing feelings. He talked about both things in his weekly government mandated therapy sessions. But mostly about her death.

The doctor had told Eddie it wasn’t uncommon to have an aversion to romantic or sexual relationships after experiencing trauma. Eddie didn’t really bother to elaborate that it had started long before said trauma. But whatever.

He digressed.

Gareth had a girlfriend, and they spent their time making out and—apparently now—doing hands and mouth stuff. At least, that’s what Gareth had been bragging about at their last band practice. And, according to him, they were probably going to fuck on this weekend that Eddie was once again alone, so calling Gareth was completely off the table.

He sighed, standing from his uncle’s withered brown couch to walk the ten steps to his bedroom. He plucked his guitar from her hook on the wall, strummed a few chords without bothering to plug her in. If he was really going to talk about trauma responses and aversions, he might as well start with the one he developed for playing his guitar after the epic battle in the Upside Down.

Since the day he nearly bled out on the gravel outside of his trailer (that wasn’t really his trailer, because apparently alternate dimensions are, like, actually a thing), he hadn’t really been able to play anymore. It wasn’t some dramatic thing, like getting wild flashbacks of battling massive fucking hell-bats, or getting feasted on by their fang-filled mouths, or Dustin crying over him, or what if felt like when he literally died for four minutes before he was defibrillated. It was just this soft, but uncomfortable, feeling in his stomach, accompanied by massive brain fog, and a general lack of motivation to learn anything new.

He hung the guitar back where it belonged, in front of his mirror. The reflection that looked back at him looked… well, goddamn bored, for one. And a little anxious. And like he should probably try to reach out to some of his other friends.

There had been some silver linings to the whole everything-he’s-ever-known-about-the-world-has-been-a-lie thing. He did, now, have other friends. Dustin, for one, would hang out with him on days that weren’t D&D related. Although, Eddie was sure that a lot of that was because he had a working vehicle that could tow him around to the arcade, or the diner (where Eddie paid for Dustin’s meals, obviously), or the video store.

Eddie didn’t mind crashing Family Video, because more often than not, it meant he could visit his new age-appropriate friend.

Robin and Eddie had become attached at the hip, honestly. Best friends. Trauma bonded, or something. Or maybe it had more to do with the fact that they were both losers, and somehow both smart and dumb at the same time. They also both talked a lot, and got excited over weird shit, and liked to rag on Dustin. So Eddie really took a liking to Robin.

And here was something that he’d been thinking about for the last few weeks.

Maybe he had a crush on her? It didn’t really sound right, but he did get excited when he got to see her, and his heartrate sometimes sped up when he went to family video and he first laid eyes on her talking to Steve, and maybe there was also a tinge of jealousy that settled in the pit of his stomach when he thought of how close they were. That had to mean something—meant something more than anything else he’d ever felt before.

He knew if Steve and Robin were going to get together, it more than likely would have already happened. But the thought still nagged on him a bit. He wouldn’t like it, and he couldn’t really put his finger on why. Having a crush on Robin was the only feasible explanation, really.

It was either that, or perhaps it was because Eddie was convinced that Steve hated him for some unknown reason.

Eddie tried to become friends with Steve during the aftermath of the Upside Down, and for a while it seemed like it was working. It seemed like Steve actually enjoyed Eddie’s company.

They’d hang out first with Rob, or Dustin. And then just by themselves. Steve even came to smoke up at the trailer once or twice, ended up crashing on Eddie’s couch. Steve used to smile at him, and nudge him in the shoulders like they were sharing some inside joke, or sling his arm around Eddie casually like they’d known each other for ages.

It always made Eddie feel like he was buzzing, like there was some sort of weight in his chest that spasmed and choked him. His therapist had said that it was probably some sort of satiation for his inner child, finally being accepted by someone who was deemed popular. Eddie hadn’t ever thought he cared about shit like that, but the subconscious was a mysterious place, he was coming to learn. Definitely explained the attachment he felt for Steve those first few months out of the hospital; the absolute giddiness he felt when they got to hang out.

But that was at the beginning. The start of July was when Eddie noticed Steve acting different towards him. Avoiding touch, and then eye contact, and then Eddie’s calls, and finally, just Eddie altogether.

The pit Eddie had felt in his stomach from losing Steve’s affection had been awful. He really thought they were becoming close, really thought it was the start of something. A really great friendship.

But Steve peaced out as quickly as he bonded with Eddie, apparently deciding now that they were back in the real world, they couldn’t really mingle anymore.

The bond they formed in the Upside Down was acceptable when they were actively monster hunting, but Eddie supposed now that things had somewhat calmed, reality started to crash into focus. Steve was still a jock; Eddie was still a freak. Therefore, no more sitting across from each other at Benny’s Diner.

That was Eddie’s theory, at least. When he’d ask Robin about it, she’d just shrugged her shoulders and said, “He hasn’t spoken badly about you. Like, at all. Seems like he likes you to me.”

Then, as if to prove his point, Steve would go all red when Eddie would stop by his work and go hide in the back room until the kids picked whatever Sci-Fi movie and piled back in Eddie’s van.

Whatever. It didn’t matter.

Eddie survived sans Steve before the Upside Down, he’d survive without him now.

He picked up the phone and dialed Robin’s number.

“Hello?”

“Rob,” Eddie greeted, a smile already forming on his face from hearing her raspy voice. “What are you up to?”

He could hear a snort from the other end of the line. He knew she was rolling her eyes. “On a Friday afternoon at five PM? Absolutely nothing, of course.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“Did it sound like sarcasm?”

“I’ll be honest with you,” he said, tucking the phone against his shoulder as he poured himself a mug of old drip coffee from this morning, “it very much did.”

“You’re getting better at social cues!” she mockingly praised.

“Watch it, Bucky. Don’t get too comfortable hiding behind that phone.”

“You’ll forget before the next time we see each other. I’m not too worried.”

Eddie sighed for what felt like the hundredth time since his uncle left the trailer. “Does that mean you can’t hang?”

The line crackled as Robin moved through her living room. Eddie could imagine her flopping on the couch, getting comfortable, her green phone glued to her ear with a big bowl of popcorn settled in her lap. “Noooott necessarily,” she drawled out. “Although, I know you’re not exactly fond of parties.”

Eddie furrowed his brow as he slid his mug onto the new microwave’s glass plate. He’d gotten it for Wayne’s birthday with some of the hush money the government had… well, hushed him with. Eddie had promised to keep his lips sealed when they flashed him the size of the cheque. Not like he had many people to tell, anyway.

“You’re going to a party?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding surprised. “Steve’s party? For his twentieth?”

Eddie’s stomach dropped. “Steve’s having a party for his birthday?”

As far as he’d known, Steve said he was doing a quiet thing with his parents and his aunt that he didn’t even want to attend, and that was that. He’d just shrugged when Eddie pressed about celebrating with his friends, muttering something about it feeling weird to celebrate after everything that went down earlier in the year.

Which had been fair enough.

But now it was abundantly clear that Steve had been lying to Eddie. To keep him away.

“Uh, of course he is, Doofus. He told me you said you couldn’t come?”

Eddie, for some wild reason, felt his eyes pricking with tears. Out of anger or betrayal or confusion, he wasn’t really sure. It was dumb; he was tough, and he didn’t cry when jocks hated him ever before. So he swallowed them back down.

“Guess my plans changed,” he said, venom seeping into his tone. Fuck Steve and his master plan to keep Eddie from attending his dumb house party. “I’m coming.”

It seemed that Robin was totally oblivious to his anger as she squealed excitedly from the other end of the line. “Yay! Will you come pick me up then? It would be so much cooler to show up with a friend than have my mom drop me off in front of all the former popular kids of Hawkins High.”

“Why do you care about that shit?” Eddie asked, even though he knew it was hypocritical of him.

“Look, I know you’re totally unaffected by the social hierarchy, Eddie, but I’m unashamed to admit that it’ll feel kind of amazing to debut myself as Steve’s best friend, you know? And I’d rather do it in your shitty van than have my mother yelling that she loves me from the open window of her Honda Civic.”

“Don’t call ol’ Heffer shitty,” Eddie sulked. “It’s not good to bite the hand that feeds you. Or something like that.”

Eddie ignored that it didn’t feel great when Robin said she was Steve’s best friend. That heavy shadow of jealousy weighed down on him. He was unclear whether it was because he was jealous of Steve or Robin.

“Whatever,” Robin said, her voice laced with yet another eyeroll. “Pick me up at seven-thirty?”

Eddie nodded, his face still pulled into a scowl. When he realised Robin couldn’t see him, he shook his muddled brain and mumbled, “Uh—yeah. Seven-thirty. See you then.”

“Cool. See you soon, Doofus,” Robin sang. And then the line went dead.

[sugarpea12345]

Remember My Name (Short story inspired by Saintobio)

Hello! This is a little thing I wrote inspired by @saintobio's work. This is directly inspired by they're sincerely yours and sincerely not .

To read and understand this, you must be caught up with sincerely not 's latest chapter (Chapter 8). I would consider this an AU, as I don't know what will happen in the next story. @saintobio 's is heart wrenching, so I had to write my own mini happy ending. Once they update, this whole thing probably won't make much sense lol.

I have received permission from @saintobio to post this

Again, this is directly inspired by @saintobio's work: Sincerely Yours and Sincerely Not.

Word count: 11.8 k

trigger warning: mentions of suicide, mentions of self harm, mentions of cheating, curse words used, angst

_____________________________________________________________

It had been a year since the coparenting arrangement. 

Via emails and business calls, you would arrange weekly pick up times. It was strictly professional. The way you wanted it. Right?

Wrong

You knew that you were being selfish. Maybe you always were. Everyone was right. Sera, Eula, Getou, Satoru’s mom, and Satoru. You were a black hole. You pulled people into your problems and destroyed them. You spent so much of your life fighting to be half the woman your mom was. And you could never be. You knew this now

“Mama!”

Bending down, you opened your arms. Hugging him tightly, you thanked the chauffeur for picking him up from school.

“Hi baby! How’s my little star?”

“Good! School finished early?” It was a statement, but you knew he was asking. Why did you take him out of school early? You really didn’t know. This whole day had felt strange. The air felt heavier. Your fingers felt numb. Something was going to happen and you didn’t want to be alone for it.

“What? My star prefers to be with teachers than with me? You’re making mommy sad!” You playfully nuzzled your head against his cheek and dramatically pouted. 

“I’ll never let you go to school again! Ha HA HA” You laughed evilly as you stood up and spun him

“Nooo!” He screamed between laughing.

After a good second of smiles and laughter, you finally set him down.

“Baby, I took you out of school because I wanted to spend time with you. Mommy is being selfish, so I won’t do this again. School is very important, ok?”

“Hmm… but mommy isn’t selfish. She’s a good mommy!”

You almost burst out in tears. He was too young to see how awful you were. His innocence and love for you blinded him. He would someday see you for the monster you are.

Allowing silence to fill the room, you stared into his eyes. God, those eyes. Your whole world could be found in them. Ruffling his hair, you grabbed the nearby scarf and wrapped it around him. Like any kid he grumbled at the added layers.

“Let’s go get ice cream and have fun today. Ok, baby?”

“Ice Cream! I love ice cream! My friend always, they always like laugh at me but not like mean laughing. But they say it’s so weird to eat ice cream when its winter. They think it’s funny. I think it’s funny too! Is snow different from ice cream? Because there’s like all this ice cream on the floor because it’s all snow. I just grab some sometimes and it doesn’t taste the same!”

As he got older, he has gotten a lot more talkative. He spoke incoherently and in run on sentences, but you understood him, nonetheless. You listened attentively when he would spend 30 minutes telling you about a funny thing his friend said. You listened when he would explain his entire school day the entire dinner. You listened the whole time.

“Yes baby, ice cream is yummy! I’m glad you and your friends laugh a lot. And no baby, snow is not the same as ice cream. Snow is made from the water on the earther getting colder, becoming clouds, and falling down. Remember I was teaching you about the water cycle? Ice cream is made from milk!”

At the mention of the water cycle, Sachiro excitedly launched into another spiel. He talked about the cycle, reexplaining it to you. He talked about how his teacher says he’s smart and how he got a toy. He talked about how his friends always ask him for help. He talked all the way to the ice cream parlor. As soon as you two ordered your ice cream, you settled down. Listening to him talk about his dreams. You always set your phone on Do Not Disturb whenever you are with him. He loved attention. If for one second you were to look away, he would immediately deflate. He was a carbon copy of his father. Sometimes you contemplated getting rid of your phone for this reason.

You spent the rest of the day chasing him through the park: pretending to be a dragon he fought, teaching him how to do cartwheels, looking for bugs. You took as many pictures as you could. Filming his smile, his voice, his eyes. 

The day came to an end, and you carried him on your back to the apartment you were staying in. 

After showering him and singing him a song, you finally took your phone off of DND.

Immediately, you were bombarded with millions of messages from everyone. 20 missed calls from Gen. 11 from Ian. 6 from your dad. 120+ text messages in total. 1 from Gojo.

Was everything ok? Please don’t let something be bad. Please. Please everyone be safe.  You heart beat increased. You were immediately transported to when you received news of Satoru’s accident. When the world learned about you running out of your wedding. When Satoru’s affair came out to the world. When you first got the calls of your mother’s sickness...

No. I can’t be selfish right now. If something happened, I have to be strong. Swallowing your fears, you opened the message you thought was the most important right now

Satoru: I’m sorry

No no no. He can’t do this again. He can’t! No please God no… You were almost about to call him, when you received another message from Gen. She was incessantly messaging you. Accidentally clicking on it, you read her last message

Gen: Please answer. Are you ok?

Now you were confused. Why was she asking if you were ok? You weren’t the victim. Doing some simple sleuthing, you looked at all the previous messages. Your eyes widened. You heart stopped. Tears filled your eyes. Looking over at Sachi, you took in a shaky breath. You had to be strong. Or at least strong enough to leave the room before you broke down. You had to do this for him. Stop being selfish Y/N

Shakily you walked out of his room. Looking back to make sure he was asleep; you closed the door gently. Before falling to your knees and letting all the tears fall. They pooled in the floor. You made sure to be quiet, but you were inconsolable. You hugged yourself tightly. You were being selfish right now. You knew that. But you were alone, and it was dark. It was ok to be selfish right now. Your heart was racing as you consoled yourself.

After half an hour of crying on the floor. You took a deep breath in and stood up. You went to the bathroom and stared at yourself.

“You need to stop being such a selfish monster, Y/N. You can’t keep ruining people. You can’t always be the victim. You need to make amends for everything you’ve done.”

You started your nightly ritual. Tears would occasionally mix in with cleanser or the water, but you didn’t stop. You had to be normal. You had to be happy. You owed everyone that. Sometimes it felt like you were caged behind your smile. Your joy had become a prison: a way to pay off all the bad things you’ve done.

Settling in bed, you grabbed your phone and responded to almost everyone. Finally, you reached Satoru’s message. 

Y/N: No worries! Congratulations! I expect an invitation lol :)

Satoru proposed to Akemi.

(Flash back to a year ago)

After that New York trip, you hated everyone. You hated your dad for pushing you into this marriage. You hated Getou for helping Satoru cheat on you during your marriage, but not understand why you wouldn’t want a baby with Satoru. You hated Satoru’s mom for projecting her self-loathing onto you. You hated your mom for dying. 

Above all else, you hated Satoru for what he did to you. He blamed you for a marriage he agreed to. He gaslit you into staying, knowing your selfless nature would do anything for his forgiveness. Even if that meant being a wife to a man in love. You hated him for taking you to the Bora Bora trip. You hated him for choosing your only friend to date. You hated that you had to go through months of emotional neglect and abuse for him to be kind. Just for Akemi to get it immediately. You hated that he became a better person only after using you. You hated him. You HATED him.

A spiteful part of your heart almost laughed. You were right! All the reasons he loved you, he found in her. You saw all the pictures he had of her. You saw the way he would caress her fingers. You saw him waiting for her. He never loved you! You were just convenient. And that’s why he loved her! Because she was convenient. Had you never sent her to meet him, they wouldn’t have fallen in love. If anything, he would be dating the nurse! Gojo Satoru doesn’t love. He just clings on to what’s closest. 

You spent a month marinating in these thoughts. In the week where you didn’t have Sachiro, you wouldn’t leave the office. You had begun sleeping there. You lost weight. Your face was pale. You were a walking corpse. You got assistants to pick up and drop off Sachiro. You never spoke to Satoru. 

This was to be your life now. After spending three days in the basement of the office creating, cutting, and sowing, Nobara finally convinced you to leave.

“Seriously Y/N, this is the 4th time I’ve had to get you gauze instead of bandages. I know you’re hurt, and I know you’re trying to distract yourself. But this is getting dangerous. Not only for you but for the clothes! We can’t sell anything if it has your blood all over it!” She tried to joke at the end

 As you finished wrapping the gauze around your forearm, you pitifully looked at her. She was so young and innovative. Despite being an intern, you had already set aside a permanent spot in the company for her. Stop burdening her with your problems.

Blinking away your sorrowful expression, you laughed. “Guess I gotta wrap myself in gauze and bandages before getting to work right?”

“Or you could just take a break. Jeez, I never thought workaholic millionaires existed.”

Ruffling her head as you walked towards her. “Thank you for waiting for me. You really didn’t have to. I promise, I won’t take advantage of your kindness. Go ahead and go home, I’ll lock up.”

Stunned, she took a second to respond. Your eyes were different right now. They were vulnerable and sad, but they were so kind at the same time.

“It’s no problem! Really! Thank you Y/N. Let’s work hard together.” Bowing, she made her way out of the store. Maybe you were going to get better?

After cleaning up, you placed the small stuffed bear you were working on in your small bag. Locking the store behind you, you headed towards your apartment. You had made the choice to move out. You were so filled with anger all the time. It would kill you if you were to accidentally lash out against the people you treasured. It was a tough conversation, but you needed space. 

As you walked, you decided last minute to head into a craft store. You needed a simple heart locket. Then you could gift the toy to your son.

With only one mission and energy drinks fueling you, you almost didn’t notice them. It wasn’t until you heard your son’s gleeful laughter did you perk up. Peering through the aisles, you saw him. No, you saw them. They both held your son’s hands as they looked at the toys. Letting go only when he would rush over to the loudest or brightest thing. Finally, he settled on a small plush. It had no lights and didn’t make any noise. They encouraged him to get something more expensive. Something flashier. But he didn’t. He wanted the light pink bunny. 

“It makes me think of mama!”

You saw Satoru and Akemi falter. It seemed that even the mention of your name silenced them. Your heart was beating so loud, you were sure they could hear it too. Leaning down Satoru ruffled his head. 

“Aren’t you a sweet little munchkin! Oh, but look at this!” 

You heart almost stopped. You saw Satoru redirect Satchiro’s attention to a cooler, bigger toy. As any kid would, he dropped the stuffed bunny and ran towards the huge toy. Gojo and Akemi exchanged relieved expressions. After purchasing the toy, they headed out. 

Walking into the aisle, you picked the bunny up. Holding it, you inspected its simplicity. Looking at the face, you realized why the bunny reminded him of you. The bunny had little tear dops in its eyes. Rushing to the cashier, you bought the bunny and the heart locket. It appears that you rushed too fast, as by the time you exited the store, they were still there. 

Sachiro, the spoiled child he was, was throwing a tantrum at having to be put in the car seat. As if he could detect your presence, Satoru immediately looked up. He saw you holding the bunny toy. His eyes filled with guilt and embarrassment. He knew that you were going to be upset. Of course you were. You were always angry at something. Nonetheless, he called you over. You were still the mother of his child.

After seeing the domestic moment in the store, you wanted to go up to them and give them a piece of your mind. You wanted to yell at them at the very least. But no, you walked over to them. Refusing to look up. 

At the mention of your name Sachiro perked up. Although he was already strapped into the seat, he did his best to peek out of the car door.

“Hi Y/N”. the tension was palpable. Choosing to ignore him, you approached Sachiro.

“Hi my little star! How are you? Did you have fun today?”

“Hi mommy! I missed you! Wanna go home! We did a lot of stuff-hmm mommy what are you holding?”

Remembering you were holding the bunny, you quickly hid it behind you back. “Just work stuff baby. I’m happy to hear you had fun! Mommy has to go, but I’ll see you this Sunday, ok baby?”

Giving him a big kiss, you did your best to hug him and said goodbye. 

Without looking up, you thanked Gojo and Akemi and began walking away. As soon as you got home, you set the plush down and pulled out your own. They both looked so ugly in your bandaged hands. Gently setting down the plush bunny, you tightly held onto the bear’s neck. Slowly, the pressure increased, and you were chocking the bear as tears streamed down your face. It was so ugly. This ugly bear in your ugly hands in your ugly home. Everything was so ugly. 

A beep from your phone broke you from this trance. It was from Satoru. 

Satoru: Hey

Satoru: Just wanted to let you know that we meant no harm in not getting him the bunny.

Then why? Why not get him that stupid toy! Sachiro is my kid! I am his mom! If he wanted that toy, then you should have gotten it! You almost wrote everything you thought. But no- no you were wrong. Sachiro wasn’t yours. Satoru had every right to get his son whatever he wanted. You kept Sachiro away from him for three years. You were the bad guy. 

Trembling you came to the realization. Rushing to the bathroom, you stripped yourself of all the clothes and the bandages. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You almost barfed. You were a monster. You were disgusting. Disfigured. Non-human.

Is this how Satoru felt?

The worst part of you were your eyes. They were so dead. Did you always look like this? How could anyone even stand to look at you? You were vile.

You had change. You spiraled into an abyss of anger and resentment. You lost yourself. Where was the sweet girl you once were. Growing a backbone didn’t mean you had to change. After a quick shower filled with tears, you got dressed and headed into the spare room. You spent the rest of the night making a light blue bunny. Unlike the store bought one, this one was smiling. It was happy. Sowing the heart locket onto the chest, you put in a small image of you and Sachiro. 

You had to be better. You had to be kind.

Grabbing the phone, you replied.

Y/N: Thank you for reaching out, but really, I didn’t mind! 

Y/N: Good night!

The next day, you didn’t go to work. Instead, you were at a café, waiting for someone to show up. You felt awful, but you knew this was the best thing to do. You had to be kind. Even if that meant being a villain. If being evil is the price you pay, then you will gladly pay it. Even more people would hate you. Everyone would. But you knew what you were doing was good. You had to be good. 

As soon as he walked in, you knew that he knew. His furrowed brow and tight jaw made it obvious that he was upset. And he had every right to be. Any anger and hate he harbored for you, you would accept.

“Toji, here’s your coffee. I’m so incredibly sorry for calling you at the last minute. I appreciate the time you took out of your day to meet with me”

He didn’t even sit down. He didn’t take the coffee.

Its now or never. Getting on your knees, you placed your hands on the floor and bowed. Your forehead was almost touching the floor. 

“Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for being a shoulder to lean on. Thank you for letting me join your family. Thank you for everything Toji. And I am so sorry for not giving you an ounce of it back. I am a selfish monster. I took everything you gave me and more. I was never a good fiancé. I wasn’t even a good friend. I took advantage of your loneliness. I will never forget the time we had together. But I ask you to forget about me. You deserve a more honest person. A person who can give you everything you deserve and more.”

People were looking and many taking pictures. Noticing this, he grabbed you by your arm, and headed out of the café. His grip was strong; it was sure to leave a bruise in your forearm, he nearly threw you into the passenger side of the car, slamming the door. He walked over to his side and began driving. The car was silent. You took refuge in it. You knew what he was going to ask. And you had to lie. You had to make him hate you. 

Soon enough, he parked in a desolate park. He refused to look at you. You didn’t want to look at him either, but you did. You had to. 

After minutes of harrowing silence, he finally spoke in a low voice

“Did you sleep with him?”

You knew he was going to ask this. A tear slid down your cheek. Your hands had begun to bleed as you kept them in closed fists.

“Yes”

He still didn’t look at you.

“Bullshit. You forget that I can see through your lies. I know why you’re doing this. You love him. You never stopped. Even after all the shit he put you through you still want him. Why now? Three years and I wasn’t enough for you. I defend you; I support you... all for what? For you to run back to your abuser. Every time I think your mine, you disrespect me. You humiliate me. You’re doing to me what that fucker did to you.”

“…Yes. I am. That’s why you have to leave me Toji. I can’t stand my reflection. I am so selfish-”

“Shut up. Don’t play the ‘pity me’ card. God, you really are something. The forever victim.”

You stayed quiet. In a perfect world, you would defend yourself. You would tell him that you aren’t trying to be the victim. You never were! You see that now. 

“You’re right.”

“All those fucking articles were right about you. I spent so much time, so much energy telling you they were lies. Turns out strangers know you better than I do. You are a two-timing bitch. You are selfish. You’re insatiable. Why couldn’t I have been enough for you. How the hell was I competing with the man who never loved you? And losing! You deserve nothing, you know that… You never left that room, did you?”

“W-what room?”

“That hospital room. Sure, you’re older now. You’ve been to a million places. But mentally? Mentally, you’re still in that hospital room. There is no cure for your loneliness. Face it Y/N, the problem has and always will be you. If you want to die next to your mom, be my guest. But you need to leave that room Y/N. If not for you, for your kid.”

He stayed quiet. It was your turn to speak. He didn’t want to hear you, but his patient nature told him to give you a chance. Not to defend yourself. But rather explain yourself.

“You’re right Toji. I think that’s why I always look for you. You always have the wisest things to say. And I know that. I’ve let the world pass me by. I have a void in my heart and its rotted me from the inside out. I’ll spend my entire life working for your forgiveness. And my lifetime might not be enough for that. You are everything to me. And that’s why I can’t let myself continue to poison you. I’ve changed you for the worst.”

You two sat in silence. You could hear his uneven breath. Reaching out you put hand on his shoulder. For the first time he turned to look at you. And there he saw it. Your eyes. 

Red and puffy with tears, your face for once didn’t look as haunted as usual. There was always this air of anger around you. Your shoulders were always tense. Eyebrows always furrowed. Not now. You looked younger. Instead of the anger that had clouded your eyes, he could finally see his reflection.

You didn’t look happy per se, but you looked aware. He looked at the hand on his shoulder. Even after everything he said, you were comforting him? This was the old you. The selfless to a fault Y/N. He couldn’t tell if this was a good or bad thing. 

He then noticed the mark on your forearm, already purple. In the shape of his hands. Reaching out he gently caressed the bruises, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips. 

“Don’t worry about it. I love you Toji. Please, forget me.”

When the news broke out that you had ended your relationship, Ian did his best to remove a lot of the posts. It was hard since there were so many shots of you on the floor begging for forgiveness. If you didn’t look guilty then, now you did. Why else would you be apologizing? But you didn’t mind. Instead, you focused on removing any article that spoke badly on Toji. Especially after some pictures of you and that hand-print bruise were published. 

Fortunately, your brand had already been established. And while the coverage halted some planned promotions and runways, by the end of the month everything was normal again.

You changed your phone to a flip phone. You did your best to text Satoru about pick up times. Most often he wouldn’t respond. Instead, you would have to call Miwa. On the rare occasion that he did, you would spend the rest of the day crying. You cried so much. You couldn’t help but remember that way they both held Sachiro’s hands. The domestic life you would never provide for him. 

Often you would contemplate if you should have accepted him. Did you really love him? Or was it just easier to love him? You couldn’t trust yourself. Your mind was in ruins. You had no one. Since your change in attitude, people have become nicer to you. But you weren’t happy. And you stopped letting people get close. You even began to push away Gen and Ian. Monthly, you would meet with your dad and that was it.

Was life good? No, but it was better. You would be content if life stayed like this. But now, a year after your failed marriage, Satoru was going to prepare his own.

(Present time)

The day after receiving that message, it was published everywhere. It was the only thing articles were talking about. With the mentions of Satoru’s new marriage, you were put into the spotlight again.

The paparazzi swarmed you. Leaving your house had become difficult. They harassed you. Pushing you while demanding you answer questions. You smiled. You thanked them for their time. You would bid them farewell. It was too dangerous that you could no longer pick your son up. Not that you minded. You didn’t want to see how happy they were. Not until you were done healing at least.

You spent the weekend doing everything Sachiro wanted. Breakfast in bed? Of course. Quick trip to the local festival? Duh. Building a fort? Obviously. 

By the time Sunday night came he was so tired. All he asked was that you sing to him before his dad picked him up. Now you sat with Sachiro’s head on your lap. Normally, a bodyguard would meet you at your door and take your son downstairs as to not garner attention. 

As soon as the knock came, you gently laid his head on couch. Slowly you opened the door, expecting to see the normal guard.

“Thank- oh. Good evening, Satoru. Are you here to pick up Sachiro?”

He looked past you and saw Sachiro sleeping. Letting himself in, he sat on the couch and petted Sachi’s head. After moments of silence, he finally spoke up. 

“Yes, but I also came because I need to talk to you.”

Solemnly, you nodded. “I actually have something to say as well. I was planning to email it later, but if you’re here then we should discuss. Would you like anything?”

Satoru couldn’t help but stare at you. Just a year ago, he had buried the old you. It was his fault he knew that. If you were mean and angry, it was because he made you that way. The damage was irreparable. But here he saw her again. Or at least a glimpse of her. 

Even though he didn’t respond, you still handed him a water bottle.

“Did you want to go first?” 

“Um, yes. I just... I just wanted to apologize for not letting you know. I was planning on calling you, but I got distracted. I’m sorry you had to learn that way.”

“Silly. We all flub up sometimes. I would have appreciated knowing so that I could explain it to Sachiro. Thank you for apologizing.”

Even though you were smiling, he could tell you were sad. Your eyes were distant. It was like you had detached yourself from everyone. Somehow, he already missed that angry Y/N. At least he knew what you were thinking. Now, it felt like when you two had gotten married. How you smiled every time he yelled at you. He expected you would say the “I don’t care what you do with your life” speech and spitefully kick him out. He could sleep well knowing you hated him. But seeing your smile, it felt like he was cheating again. No. No, you asked for him to forget you. This is good. You’re getting better. But is returning to your selfless self better? That’s when you suffered the most. That’s what changed you. 

You didn’t give him much time to think as you started to speak. 

“Satoru, can I ask you for a favor?”

He knew what you were going to say. This nice act can’t last forever. This was the angry Y/N he knew. 

“Can you take care of Sachiro for a couple of months? I know it’s a lot, but I have some... business to take care of. I would take him with me, but I don’t want to separate you from him anymore than I already have.”

Oh? 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of him. I can’t believe you had to ask. He’s my son, of course I will take care of him.”

His tone had changed. He had gotten angry at the mention of the three years. You didn’t react. You just thanked him.

Gojo enjoyed his week with Sachiro and Akemi. It felt like they had a family. This is what he wanted. Sure, you were Sachiro’s real mom, but Akemi was also kind of like a mom. He noticed how well the two got along. He sought comfort in her and laughed with her. Yes. This is good. 

Yet, he couldn’t help but think about you. 

Every time Sachiro offered the first bite of his food to him. Every time Sachiro defended the annoying people at the mall. Every time Sachiro smiled, Satoru saw you. Yes, Sachiro looked exactly like him, but everything about him was you. It was all you.

His heart almost broke when he saw Sachiro singing to his stuffed animals. 

“Hey munchkin. BedTIME!” He joyfully grabbed Sachiro and swung him around the room. Instead of laughing, Sachiro began to pout. 

“No playing at bedtime dada. No”

“Oh, my bad Sachi.” He was a replica of you. 

Satoru sat on the bed as Sachiro headed to the bathroom, pulled out his step stool and began cleaning his face. After finishing his regiment, he waddled back into the room and settled himself into bed. 

“Is dada going to read me a story?”

“Can I sing to you instead munchkin?”

“Hmmm… no thank you dada.”

“Aww you’re a meanie! Um, but actually I need to talk to you about something serious.”

“Mhmm”

“You like Akemi, right? Dada likes her a lot. But it’s very important that you like her.”

“Yesh! Akemi is nice!”

He knew that this was wrong, but he had to ask. “Do you ever think Akemi could be like momma?”

Immediately tears sprouted from the boy’s eyes. He started frantically grabbing and throwing some of his toys. 

“NO! Mommy is Mommy! No one else is mommy! I hate Akemi! I hate her! I want mommy! Mommy!!”

Sachiro was screeching. Gojo was thankful that Akemi was in another room. She really did love Sachiro, and it would have broken her heart to hear him say that.

He held Sachiro close, trying to console him. “Shhh, baby. Daddy didn’t mean that ok? No one will replace mommy. Mommy is all yours.” Sachiro cried until his tears tired him out. No, I can’t tell him. Not today. Maybe Y/N should tell him instead. Sorry Y/N. I’m using your selflessness again. 

Soon enough the week ended, and he passed him back to you. Instead of showing up in person, as he did last time, he sent the bodyguards to take him. He was being cowardly, he knew. But he couldn’t risk Sachiro hating him. It’s your fault their relationship is so weak. It should only be right that it’s your job to explain everything to Sachiro. Right?

Satoru: Hey, I tried to tell him about me and Akemi. He didn’t respond very well. Could you explain it to him?

You almost rolled your eyes at the message. You were being punished. You knew that. But you responded with a simple ‘Ok’ anyway. 

Switch offs happened at night to make sure that each parent spent the majority of the day with Sachiro. You and Sachiro headed to the bathroom and completed your nightly routine all while dancing and occasionally teasing each other. This is what you lived for. Yes, you were lonely all the time. But you weren’t lonely with him. He was your reason to exist. It was going to hurt you being away from him for so long. But this would be good for everyone. This would be your last act of selflessness. This would atone for every bad thing you did.  

By the time you cleaned up all the splashed water, Sachiro was already in bed ready for his song. Instead, you sat on the floor. 

“Hey star boy, I need to talk to you. It’s going to be serious, ok?”

As soon as you finished the sentence, he burst into tears. Hugging you close he shook his head in a no motion.

“NO! I hate her! I hate her! She’s not mommy! Mommy is mommy! Mommy is my star and I’m her star! Not Akemi!”

Confused you held him tight. You cooed and brushed his snow-white hair back. “No Akemi won’t replace me baby.”

He pulled away to look up at you. “Daddy asked me! He asked me if Akemi could be mommy! I said no!”

You sighed dejectedly. This is why it didn’t go well. Your son was naturally altruistic. He would have understood and accepted had Gojo explained everything normally. But it seems that Gojo had made a selfish request. Why is it always my job to clear up Satoru’s name? Why can he be selfish and be the victim, but I can’t? No! No, I can’t think that! I’ve been selfish my whole life! Satoru is a victim. This will all be solved soon…

“My star, he didn’t mean it that way. Listen to me Sachiro. Me and you are a family, right? Me and you were also part of Toji’s family. Sometimes, when you love someone, you can add them to your family. Mommy messed up with Toji, and I’m no longer part of their family. But Satoru has someone he loves. Is it ok for her to join our family?”

You had dumped a lot of information on him. It took a second to process everything. 

“So, we aren’t family with Toji?”

“I’m not baby. But you will always be, ok. That’s how love works. They love you a lot.”

“Are you and daddy family?”

“Yes, we are. You make us a family.”

“But does mommy love daddy?”

You were stumped. This is probably why Satoru didn’t want this conversation. So, you answered honestly.

“Yes, mommy loves daddy.”

“Then why does daddy love Akemi?”

“Love is strange, baby. Sometimes you love people more. And he loves Akemi more. Is that ok?”

He took a second to think

“I guess…”

“Thank you for being so selfless Sachiro.” You stopped to think. “But if you’re ever not okay, then you have to tell someone, ok? Its ok to be selfish too.” You were just projecting, but you knew it was important for him to hear that too.

“Ok?”

“Speaking of being selfish… Mommy is going away for a couple of months.” As expected, he started bawling. He started kicking and throwing. He was loud. He was angry. He was betrayed

“NO! NO! Mommy can’t go! Mommy can’t leave me! She can’t! I’ll be a good boy I promise! I’ll eat every veggie! I won’t cry anymore! Mommy can’t leave!! It’s Akemi’s fault! Her fault! That’s why mommy cries so much! Its daddy too! Mommy never cried!”

You started crying too. All those times you thought you hid your tears he saw. He saw everything. This was the worst-case scenario. You had to leave. You couldn’t let him see you like that anymore. You had to leave that hospital room. Toji was right.

You held onto him. Even when he began to hit you. Even when he rubbed his snot over you. You waited until he calmed down, Silent tears were streaming down his face.

“Can we go back to New York mommy? I hate it here. Daddy is mean to mommy. Mommy cries all the time. Mommy is lonely and sad while Daddy is happy. It’s not ok.”

You wiped his tears away. 

“Sachiro, don’t say that. Mommy is paying the price for being bad. Daddy deserves to be happy. He loves you so so much. Please forget everything bad, Sachiro. Daddy wasn’t mean to me. If he was, I wouldn’t let you stay with him, right? Mommy isn’t lonely. She has you. Mommy will never be sad as long as Sachiro is here. You’re like my superhero! Mommy is struggling and she needs to fix some stuff so she can be a better mommy for you ok, baby? None of this is your fault. I have to go, but I promise you, this will be better for you and for me. I promise with my whole heart. The second I get everything sorted out, I’ll pick you up. This hurts me too, baby. But I need to be a better mommy for you. None of this if your fault. Don’t you ever think that. Hey, to help my little star, I have present for you.”

You stood up and presented him with a white, sleek box. It had beautiful light blue ribbon on it. He held it but refused to open it. 

“I even got myself a present so we could match!”

You pulled out your own white box. Seeing that you both had a present, he was more willing to open his. It was a phone. You had a matching one. You really didn’t want another phone, as you were content with the flip phone you already had. It made ignoring all the evil things people said about you a lot easier to manage. 

“When mommy’s gone, we can call each other all the time. I’ll respond to every text. I’ll answer every phone call. I promise. I won’t be gone for long. But I’ll text you so much you’ll wish I was.”

This garnered a small giggle from him. 

“Don’t worry baby, we have the rest of the week. We’ll do everything you want.”

He nodded glumly. He wasn’t too happy, but he felt a lot better knowing he could reach out to you. 

You slept with him. Holding him close, you did your best to treasure these moments.

When Sunday night finally came, you asked Satoru to pick him up personally. This was a big change, even if it was temporary. You wanted Sachiro to be as relaxed as possible. You and him sat on the couch. You had packed a bunch of his valuables and even some pictures so that he wouldn’t feel so lonely.  He was again on your lap, fighting to stay awake as you ran your fingers through his hair.

The serene moment was disrupted by the loud knocks coming from the door. Expecting to see Satoru you opened the door, only to see Akemi there. You did your best to keep your smile. It wasn’t that you hated her. No, she was your friend at one point to. But an evil part of you knew you could never forgive her. Not for dating Satoru, but for choosing him over your friendship. You told her everything, but because she never experienced it, she could ignore it. That is selfish.  As if you can critique others for being selfish. 

You welcome both of them. Sachiro already stood up, holding the blanket closely. He refused to look at his dad or Akemi. His eyes were already brimming with tears.

Bending down to his level, you caress his face. “It’s ok to cry, my star. But before you do, I have a gift for you.”

Reaching behind the couch, you presented him the light blue bunny you had made. His eyes widened and he squealed in joy Running to hug it he struggled opening the locket. One he did, he looked at you with the biggest smile on his face. He ran and hugged your knees. 

“Whenever you miss mommy, give that bunny a big hug, and I’ll feel it. Have fun with Daddy. You must be a good boy. Call me whenever you want, but I promise to call you every day. Mommy just needs to get some work done and then everything will be back to normal ok?”

After a couple minutes of holding each other, he finally walked over to where Satoru was. He raised his hands asking to be picked up. 

“Thank you, Satoru. Thank you, Akemi. I trust you two will take wonderful care of him.” You bowed at a 90-degree angle. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you leaving?” You hadn’t spoken to Akemi in a while. For a couple months, she stayed employed with you. Yet, after your official break up with Toji, she immediately resigned. You always wondered if she thought you did it because of Satoru. 

Smiling gently you respond, “I’m sorry, I can’t say. It’s nothing crazy, I promise! I just need some time.”

“It’s not because of…”

“Goodness no! I know I haven’t been the most supportive. I’ve been downright awful. I hope both of you forgive me for how I acted. It was selfish and attention seeking. I don’t expect any special invitation, but please know that I support this relationship. I’m glad you two found each other. Truly”

Satoru almost flinched at the words you used. The guilt of you actually believing all the nasty things he said to you weighed heavy on him. He almost regretted bringing Akemi here. If she wasn’t, he would have consoled you. Even if it only would have been a hand on your shoulder. 

The worst part about hearing you subscribe to all his insults was seeing the honesty behind it. You did think you were a terrible person.

Before either of them could say anything, you started ushering them out. 

“You guys must head out now! Sachiro still needs his night routine. He has school tomorrow, and he’s already stayed up so late. If you guys feel like he’s too tired, I don’t mind if he doesn’t go. It’s your call. Thank you both for everything!”

You nearly pushed them out of the apartment. As soon as that door closed, you broke down. This was going to be one of the hardest things you’ve done. But you had to do it. 

Nearly two months have passed. Satoru relished every second he had with his son. He has never felt more like a family than he did now. Everything was perfect. 

If it weren’t for the bunny he carried everywhere. Or the fact that Sachiro couldn’t do anything without having to send his mom a text. Sending a sleepy blurry selfie was more important than getting dressed. He would facetime you every night before going to sleep. There were times where he even ignored Satoru in lieu of sending you a selfie with a filter on top of it.

Satoru heard and saw more of you now, than he did in the last year. 

Even Akemi was getting a little frustrated. 

Yet, Satoru wasn’t just frustrated. He felt guilty. Your presence at the house had become so abundant, that he would often stay in Sachiro’s room just to hear you sing. He did his best to mind his business, but in the cases where he saw the silly selfie you would send back. It would plague his mind for the rest of the day. 

From the few glimpses he got, he could tell that something was changing. You weren’t in the office, or in any modern building it seemed. You were a lot livelier. You were happier?

How could a mom be happier away from her child? He would nearly scoff out loud at the thought. Maybe this was your way of giving him full custody? No there was no way. 

The next day, after sending Sachiro to school, he headed to the office. It was a usual day. He was glad he was able to save the company. He really was going to lose all this over you? No. He loved you. And you didn’t love him. But Akemi did. And his workers needed him.

As he continued working, suddenly Miwa and Nanami both presented themselves. Miwa was always easy to read. She was skittish and nervous. Nanami, on the other hand, was harder to read, but he could tell he was a little unsure as well.  “Nanami! Miwa! What bring you in here? I reviewed my schedule already. Is there something I missed?”

Miwa cracked first. “Um... Mr. Gojo, have you been in contact with Ms. Y/N recently?”

“She calls Sachiro nearly every day. Did something happen?”

“Well, have you been in contact in the last hour?”

“Miwa may you please get to the point?”

Nervously, she looked up at Nanami. Sighing and pushing his glasses up, he handed Satoru the iPad. “None of this means anything. And if something did happen, it is not your responsibility. It’s just rather strange.”

Gojo looked over the screen. In big bold letters there it was:

Y/N STEPS DOWN FROM HEARTS COMPANY. 

Y/N SELLS OVER A MILLION IN STOCKS

HEARTES INTRODUCES NEW CEO AND CREATIVE DESIGNER

Y/N RESIGNS FROM COMPANY

Y/N’S APARTMENT UP FOR SALE?!

Gojo looked at the headlines frantically. He knew what all this was implying. Yet, he needed verification. He couldn’t fathom the thought that you would have… No there’s no way. You have Sachiro. You wouldn’t do this.

“Um... what exactly does this have to do with me Nanami?”

“It means nothing. It seems that Y/N has done some irrational choices that garnered some attention from the media. That’s all this is. Unfortunately, you know how convoluted your history is with her. Some people might assume that since she’s acting out in such an illogical and hysterical manner, that she may be going through a manic episode. A manic episode that may precede…” Nanami couldn’t finish the sentence. 

His heart was beating. No, there’s no way you could be gone. No. No. You made a promise! You promised to return for Sachiro. Right Sachiro. That’s why Gojo is feeling so bothered and anxious. He’s worried for the mother of his child, that’s all. 

“I think… I think I’ll head home. If she has been in contact with anyone, it would be my son. Thank you for letting me know.”

As he made his way to the car, he couldn’t help but speed. He needed to make sure you were ok... for the sake of Sachiro.

On the way, he received a phone call from Akemi. Normally, he would have pulled over and answered her. But not today. He drove, breaking most speed laws all the way home. He barely turned his car off as he rushed the door. Yet, as he got to the door, he found a box. It was for Sachiro Gojo. Without hesitation, he looked at the sender’s address in the corner and typed it in. It was a two-hour drive, but he didn’t care. This box didn’t prove anything. You must have sent it days ago. If you had planned to do this all at once that meant only one thing. You were planning to commit. There was no other option. With only this one mission fueling him, he unknowingly kept ignoring Akemi’s calls

After an hour and a half of driving, Gojo started to notice his surroundings. This was an older city. There were multiple shrines and elders. There were very few cars. A lot of cats.  This was weird. He continued following the GPS. He passed the city and made his way up the mountainous region. By 5 pm. He had reached an isolated house on top of the hills. The land was relatively flat once he got up there. There was an impressive house. It looked new. The house wasn’t a mansion, but it was still large. The lights in what he assumed the kitchen were on. Hesitantly, he knocked.

Soon enough someone opened the door. No, not someone, you did

There stood you. You looked younger, happier, kinder. Unlike last time, your happiness didn’t feel like a mask. It felt genuine. He couldn’t marinate in his confusion as you grabbed his hand and pulled him in. 

“Hi Gojo! I’m shocked to see you here! Come in! Let me get you a lemonade. It must have been a long drive.”

You sat him down on your couch. He couldn’t help but think about that mansion. The one where you were supposed to start and raise a family. This one was a lot cozier, with the architecture of it being rounder in a way. It felt like a cottage despite its massive size. There were a lot of plants. On the walls were framed pictures. Mostly of Sachiro. A lot were ones he’s never seen. There were a lot of selfies of you two. And hidden between all of them was that Disneyland photo. It was when he had amnesia. When he thought you were cheating. Before he knew of all your lies. That instantly ruined his mood. 

Placing a coaster, you set his drink down. He couldn’t help but notice that the coasters were made with images of Sachiro’s drawings. 

“The lemonade is rather tart since the lemons are homegrown. So, I went ahead and added a bit of sugar. But here’s some more if you like. I don’t know if you still have the same sweet tooth. So, if I put too much sugar, let me know! I’ll get you another cup!” You set down a jar with sugar. You were so talkative. The last time you spoke this much with him was when you were kids. 

He didn’t move. Noticing his discomfort, you kept talking. “I was going to call you tomorrow. But I’m glad to see you. Did you come alone?”

“Y/N, I thought you committed suicide.”

You deflated slightly. Somberly you looked around the room. With a gentle smile, you looked at him. It was like you had puppy dog eyes. He could get lost in them. It had been a year since he was attracted to you, but he couldn’t help but want to lean closer to you. To breathe your air. He stopped himself in time

“It all happened kinda fast right? I was hoping that by doing it all at once, it would be like ripping the band aid off, y’know? People are bound to talk, so instead of doing it slowly and reigniting interest in my life every couple of weeks, I thought it would be easier if I just made one big splash and let the water settle from there.”

It felt like he was in a different dimension. You spoke so casually to him. It almost felt like he was the weird one. In disbelief, he stayed quiet.

Taking a deep breath, you continued. “Honestly, I did plan to. To commit suicide, I mean.  So, I guess you weren’t completely wrong.”

He stared at you. How you casually admitted to your suicidal ideations.

“What? You can’t be the only one to be suicidal right?” You joked, hoping to ease the tension. It did the exact opposite. 

“Y/N I need you to fucking explain everything. No jokes”

Your gaze hardened. “Gojo, you do not disrespect me in my house. I have welcomed you because you are my child’s father, but I will forbid you from coming here again if you speak to me like that again.”

He remained silent but nodded. It was weird. You definitely had grown a backbone since he last saw you in your apartment. Just a couple months ago, you looked like the submissive, docile, doormat you once were. But now? Now you confident and strong without sacrificing your trusting and selfless nature. You were a perfect blend of your youth and your experience. 

“This is my way of asking for forgiveness. From everyone. I’ve done a lot of awful things. Since that New York trip, I became vindictive. I became evil. I didn’t know why. How could I be jealous that the man I encouraged to move on moved on? I was changing Satoru. I had thought that being mean and cold was a way to protect myself. But in reality, I had gotten worse. I couldn’t stand my reflection. Then, I saw you Akemi and my star at the store. You remember right? With the pink bunny? You all looked so happy. It was the life Sachiro deserved. I went home and saw myself. Really saw myself. I couldn’t recognize who that person in the mirror was. Since then, I was determined to seek forgiveness from everyone I wronged. My first thought was to kill myself. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to my star. Even now, I find myself fantasizing about just jumping off that cliff… I even planted flowers there so whenever Sachiro visited, he would feel safe. But I can’t. That’s why I have all these photos and drawings of him. If I keep thinking of him, I’ll never have time to contemplate killing myself.”

Gojo couldn’t stop his eyes from watering. He almost reached out to grab your hands. He closed his hands harshly, forcing himself not to move. “But Y/N... you didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, you have done wrong. But we all have. You shouldn’t have to punish yourself for existing.”

Always and empath, you leaned forward and placed a cute octopus squishy in his hands. He quietly accepted it, showing the indents his nails made on palm “You don’t want to accidentally cut yourself. I learned that a little too late.” You laughed gently as you showed him your own palm. There were small scars in the shape of your nails. 

Holding the squishy in one hand, he used the other hand to inspect your hand. They were different. It was obvious that you still took care of your hands: soft, supple, perfect nail beds, trimmed nails. But upon further inspection, he could see multiple scars littering your fingers. His gaze drifted upwards to your forearm. There he saw some bigger scars. Some still scabbing. He could feel his own scar throb at the memory of the pain. Gojo couldn’t stop himself as some tears fell out. He couldn’t stop himself from tracing their outline.

“Why- why would you do this? You were alone the whole time? Then why? Y/N I don’t understand you? You were going to…”

He was interrupted by your melodious laughter. You pulled your hand away. “You’re too sweet Gojo. No. No these aren’t what you think they are. It’s just some office mistakes. I jumped into my work to fill that void of loneliness. But you know, it’s pretty dangerous to be handling sharp rotary cutters when you haven’t slept for days.” 

Grabbing his hand, you pulled him up. “Let’s go for a walk!”

Leading him to the back door, her couldn’t help but stare at your interlinked hands. The tips of his ears turned pink. He felt so young right now. No. No I can’t think like that. 

The back yard was like a Ghibli fantasy forest. It had plenty of lush green plants and flowers growing everywhere. In a corner there was a cute gazebo with two easels ready. One noticibly smaller than the other. There were plenty of trees a reasonable distance from the house. They provided a nice area of shade. Some grew peaches, others grew limes.  A stone path led to another corner where a sand pit was already set up. The entire perimeter was protected with a gorgeous white fence. Tall enough that Sachiro wouldn’t be possible to scale it. There was one exit. You headed there still holding Gojo’s hand. Typing in a security code, the door opened, and you headed into the forest. After a 5-minute walk, the forest cleared and presented a cliff side. Undoubtedly it was gorgeous. The ocean was beautiful. Flowers and clovers surrounded the area. 

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until he saw that the sun was setting. You let go of his hand and sat down, resting your head on your knees. You always had that curious habit of returning to a fetal position. Settling next to you, he couldn’t stop himself from looking at you. You looked ethereal. With the sun in your face, the wind in your hair. There was a gentle smile playing on your lips as you stared at the ocean. 

“Gojo…”

He couldn’t help but squish the little octopus. He didn’t know why it hurt him to hear you call him only by his last name.

“I disagree with what you said earlier. I should be punished for my existence. I’ve done nothing good. Born into a life of luxury, and I still managed to want more… When Toji broke up with me, he told me something very valuable. He told me that I was stuck in my mother’s hospital room. That I never left. And he’s right. Ever since my mom died, I became a walking corpse. I cursed myself with eternal loneliness. And yet, I so wanted to fight that loneliness. So when my father mentioned the marriage, I was ecstatic. Although we haven’t spoken in years and you refused to answer any messages I sent, my loneliness convinced me that you wanted it. I mean technically you did, but you didn’t really want it. I wonder, if I had never accepted that proposal, would you still be with Sera? Would any of this happened?”

The wind filled in for Gojo’s silence.

“My selfishness blinded me. I so badly wanted to be loved that I ignored any sign of resistance. Even when you told me that I would never compare to her, I wanted you to change for me. How pretentious. Had I just given up, then maybe you wouldn’t have thought that you loved me. When you couldn’t vanquish my loneliness, I searched for it in Toji. I abused his friendship just so that I wouldn’t be alone. When I figured out the real reason you married me, the reason you bought that house, the betrayal. That almost killed me Gojo. Imagine that. Even at my lowest I couldn’t stop seeking attention. I put myself over you, as usual. I lied and kept you from your child. I shouldn’t have been so selfish. It was okay that you didn’t love me. As long as you loved our child. But no selfish Y/N strikes again. Then, even though I knew I wasn’t ready, I still accepted when Toji proposed. I’m a monster. Just a year ago, I almost lost it. I was becoming unrecognizable Gojo. I couldn’t look at you and Akemi without getting angry. How was it fair, that I had to go through months of humiliation, which in hindsight, I did deserve, just for her to get the perfect boyfriend. I cried for months before you even held me. The first time we had sex, I had to beg you to kiss me. I hated her and I hated you. But that’s not your fault. Nor is it her’s. It’s mine. If I wasn’t so selfish and I didn’t think you loved me then none of this would have happened. I ruined so many lives because I couldn’t see past myself. If I didn’t use people to fill this abyss I have in my heart, I wouldn’t have caused you to almost commit suicide. I wouldn’t have taken Sera’s boyfriend from her. I wouldn’t have wasted Toji’s time. I wouldn’t have hurt your mom. None of this would have happened. I should have stayed in that hospital room. I should have asked them to bury me with her.”

You were crying now. Your hands shaky as they gripped tighter. You were curling in on yourself, wanting to disappear. 

“If I hadn’t been so awful, Sachiro wouldn’t have seen me cry so much.”

Gojo’s heart broke. All those lies. All those insults. You believed them. No. No you weren’t selfish. You were the opposite. You always put other above yourself, even if it hurt you. Of course, you’ve committed your share of sins, but never maliciously. You were too trusting, too eager to please. And to think he didn’t love you? That nearly shattered him. He may have moved on, but the love he had for you was real. Even though he may have forgotten how to love you: even though he may have abused you: even though he didn’t deserve to love you, he has never stopped loving you since you were young. 

He reached out a hand to soothe your back as you hiccupped through your gentle tears. You had a special charm that made everything you did look beautiful. But he paused seeing how stunning you were despite the tears on your face. He almost kissed you. But he didn’t. Not because he held himself back, but because he saw your eyes. 

As you stared into the ocean, your eyes changed from their vulnerable and kind state to a detached, disconnected gaze. Almost like you were hypnotized by the sea. The waves calling you. It was the same gaze he had when he was suicidal. 

“After seeing you at the store, I realized that I needed to atone for my sins. I needed to seek forgiveness. That night was actually the night I realized I needed to commit suicide. Not to ease my own pain, no that’s a selfish reason. I wanted to commit suicide so that everyone’s bad thoughts, everyone’s problems, and every bad thing I did could die with me. If everyone took turns spitting on my grave, I wouldn’t mind. As long as I was no longer causing problems, it would have been worth it. I spent the whole night making a new stuffed animal for him. I cut myself a lot by accident, but I didn’t mind. That was going to be his last gift. My existence is a mistake. Me dying would be a gift to the world.”

“And?”

“And I clearly decided not to. I owe my life to Sachiro. As long as he needs me, I will live for him. I want to die, Gojo. I want to give everyone the life they had before they met me. I want everyone to be happy again. But I can’t. Because I have my little star. I’m evil Gojo. I’m a black hole. I pull people in, only to destroy them. I’m afraid one day I might do that to him too.”

You turned to look at him, tears streaming down your face. 

“It kills me to know that one day I’ll hurt him too. But he loves me so much. He fills the void in my heart. I’m not lonely when I’m with him and I know its selfish, but the way he looks at me... The way he looks at me almost makes me think I’m a good person.”

Gojo continued staring at you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Hearing you talk about yourself this way hurt him immensely. It almost felt like he was drowning. No, you didn’t get better. None of your problems were solved. You just learned to live with them. 

You leaned close to Gojo. The honesty in your eyes almost scared him. “Gojo, if you ever notice that Sachiro is suffering being with me, I need you to tell me. The second I start poisoning him, I’ll kill myself.”

The conviction behind your words paralyzed him. You two sat there for a minute. He didn’t know what to say. He knew what this felt like. He knew the exact emotions you were drowning in. But he couldn’t help but think that you were a lot worse. You have begun to hate your entire existence. You had no one. The amount of self-hate you had was shocking. 

After a couple minutes of silence, you wiped your tears away. Standing up you offered your hand to him. 

Looking at you now, it felt like he was in an alternate dimension. One where he confessed when he was younger. One where he never met Sera. One when he got on a knee and properly proposed. And he almost believed it. Just as he reached to grab your hand, he finally noticed how his phone was ringing. Looking down he saw Akemi’s number. He looked at you apologetically. You smiled kindly and continued to offer your hand. As his bigger hand enveloped yours, he imagined pulling you in close and kissing you in the sunset. Just like the romance novels you loved. As soon as he stood up, though, you released his hand. Walking past him you headed back to you house. 

You were giving him privacy. He was at crossroads; stay here and answer the phone or chase after you. All those times he didn’t. Maybe he should this time. No. He’s going to get married. He’s made his choice. And like usual, he didn’t chase after you. 

He spent some time with Akemi on the phone. He explained the entire situation to her. He omitted everything you told him, though. That was for him only. He calmed her down and promised he would be home by the end of the night.

Walking back to your house, he smelled the pasta you used to love so much. You only ever cooked it for him once. He saw you humming as you stirred the pasta with the sauce. 

“Y/N, I’m going to head out now. Akemi is worried. You should call your family too. They’re probably worried too.”

You turned to him. You looked like a picture-perfect housewife with the apron you had on. You hummed in agreement. 

“They already know, but thank you for the suggestion. It was nice seeing you. Would you like some food to take for the trip?”

He should say no. There’s no way to explain leaving work to spend the whole day with your ex-wife to your fiancé. Much less if he brought food with him. 

“Sure.”

You packed it into some cute tupperware. It had little duckies on the lids. He just realized how much you changed financially as well. Besides the large house, one would never assume you came from wealth. There was very little name brand stuff. A lot of the decorations were local. 

Noticing his curious gaze as you handed the Tupperware to him, you giggled.

“If we see each other again, feel free to ask any questions. We’ve both changed a lot. I hope next time you talk a bit more. I kinda hogged the whole conversation today huh?”

You walked him to the door and waved him goodbye. 

He spent the next two hours just re-living that time. Already he missed being in your house. He could already imagine you, him, and Sachiro painting outside or going to the local city for festivals. Despite all the heartbreaking things you told him, all the awful things you thought of yourself, you managed to make a sanctuary. It was always in your nature to find the silver lining in every circumstance. You obviously needed a therapist. But a selfish part of him was glad that he was your confidante. As far as he was concerned, only he knew of how you felt, where you lived, why you did what you did. It was like you were still his.

As soon as he recognized these thoughts, he pulled over. There is no way he can think like that. No that would be unfair to Akemi. He’s already hurt you so much. He pushed you to the point of trauma. He changed you. Even now, the scars of hos he treated you were present. Everything you thought was because he had told you it at one point. No. He couldn’t do all that to Akemi either. 

Grabbing the cute Tupperware with the pasta, he almost threw it out. 

Instead, he took a second to look at it. It was two big ducks and little baby one. You had used a ribbon to tie some utensils on the top. Everything your hands made had some care and love imbued into it. Opening it, he aggressively ate it all. It was delicious, as expected. While he ate, he started crying. Why? Why did seeing you like that hurt him so much? Why did he use Akemi’s name instead of calling her his fiancé? Why didn’t he hold you as you cried? Why do you use his last name? Why?

He drove home that night. He kissed Akemi before she could even greet him. She immediately melted into the kiss, even if she was still peeved at being ghosted the whole day. He playfully pleaded for her to forgive him. He smiled. He laughed. But for some reason her couldn’t look her in the eyes like he used to. A part of him wished it was you he was holding. 

He went to Sachiro’s room. It was messier than usual. He noticed a bunch of crocheted toys he had never seen before. I guess that’s what was in the box. He reached his son, and he stopped to stare at him. Sachiro was holding two things as he slept. The bunny, per usual, but also a note. In big letters Gojo could make out Momma’s Ready! Sachiro was still learning to read, so you hadn’t written much. Still, just seeing those two letters had excited Sachiro so much that he slept with it. On his little tummy laid the phone. Close to dead, Gojo picked it up to charge it. There he saw that Sachiro had been listening to a video you recorded of yourself singing to him. Oh right. Since you had spent the whole evening with Gojo, you couldn’t call Sachiro. 

For a reason Gojo couldn’t explain, he sent the video to his own phone. He plugged the phone in and walked out of the room. 

Akemi had already headed to their own room. Before Gojo could, he had to organize some stuff.

“Hello, I know its late. I’m just letting you know not to pick up Sachiro tomorrow. I’ll handle the drop off.”

Gojo had to see you. Just for answers. He just wanted you to explain yourself. That’s all

At least that’s what he told himself. But when he slept that night, he dreamt of living in that house with you. He dreamt of cooking breakfast for Sachiro and you. He dreamt of a world where you were his. 

[chukys-mouthguard]

broken memories - pt. 2

sequel to kinda tempting

3k words | loosely proof read

genre: fluff/angst

featuring: mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe

warnings: mentions of loss of pregnancy

previous chapter

It had been a month since you had broken the news to Matt about your baby. He was temporarily living with Jonathan Quick as he continued his offseason training to prepare for camp. The two of you kept in touch, often checking in on one another as you both navigated the stages of grieving.

You still talked on the phone at least twice a week, things remaining very cordial between you, which you appreciated. Never wanting to lose Matt entirely, hoping that you could remain friends despite everything.

Mat Barzal on the other hand, wasn’t being much of a friend as he’d yet to return any of your texts. Including your text you’d sent the night of the fight with Matt when he packed his things and left.

While you understood he was engaged and happy with someone else, he did promise that you could still reach out to him whenever you needed. Yet maybe that was simply a meaningless comment of comfort at the time, not something that held any true intent behind it.

You had finally started to feel like your normal self, getting fully back into work and preparing for the upcoming season. The organization pleasantly surprised you as they did not intend to fire you despite your relationship with Rempe, of course now that wouldn’t pose a problem. But you were happy that you could stay with the organization after you had become so sure this would be where you stayed for the foreseeable future should you and Matt have had your baby to raise.

Checking the time you had a little over an hour left in your work day, figuring you’d use the time to go get some footage of the recent renovations of the locker room to start making a few posts for the socials.

As you exited the elevator your phone was buzzing in your pocket, an image of Rempe brightly filling the screen. A smirk found its way across your lips at the sight of the photo. It was after his debut stadium series game, his eye black slightly smeared as he flashed a goofy smile at the camera. You’d never forget the excitement surrounding that day, but more importantly meeting Matthew.

“Hello Matthew Rempe, how can I help you?”

He chuckled at your sing-song tone as he greeted you. “I am actually getting in the car, just leaving training. But, I realized I need some stuff from the apartment, well your apartment. Can I swing by?”

Heading into the Rangers locker room you pulled your work phone from your pocket, snagging some photos and a few videos to ensure you had plenty of content to use in editing.

“Um, yeah sure. I’m finishing up here at MSG within the hour, then I’ll be heading home. I would say I can be there in like an hour or so? If that works for you?”

“Yeah, I’ll probably hit traffic on my way so that would be fine. I’ll see you soon!”

“Sounds good, see you in a bit.”

-

Dropping your bag on the island you headed down the hall to throw on some comfy clothes, which ended up being some shorts and a Rangers t-shirt that Matthew had left behind. You figured this wasn’t an item he was in need of so he wouldn’t mind you wearing it.

Before you could even get fully settled in from work there was a knock at your door.

“Matthew Rempe, what in the world is this?”

You eyed the boy as he carried in a box of food, setting it on the island as he wrapped you in a quick hug.

“Well, I knew you probably hadn’t eaten dinner yet. And it could be like old times, when we’d get our favorite takeout place for dinner.”

You smiled at the gesture, thinking back to how Matt’s diet surely took a turn throughout your pregnancy once the craving for Chinese food kicked in. Weekly Matt found himself bringing home whatever dish it was you craved, but he never once complained. Well, that is except for when you ended up with a better fortune in your cookie than he did.

“You really didn’t have to do this, I could’ve just made some leftovers or something.”

He shot you a playful smile as he held up the container of steamed dumplings.

“Really? You’d pass on dumplings for leftovers?”

You licked your lips as you stole the container from his hand, moving around to the other side of the island as you pulled out some plates and silverware. Passing some to Matt so he could serve up his food before the two of you found your familiar spots on the floor at your coffee table.

“So, how are you doing? Everything good?”

Nodding your head you reached for a napkin, wiping your mouth before you answered him.

“Yeah, starting to feel like my normal self again. It was a little rocky there for a bit. But, I’m starting to feel good. Able to make it through the workday without crying, which is a big plus. How about you?”

He also nodded, adjusting how he sat on the floor as he rested back on his hands.

“Yeah, same here. I mean, I still have my moments where I do the why me sort of spiel. But I would say I’ve gotten past a lot of the frustration and anger I felt for a while. And training has been freaking amazing, I’m so excited for camp. I’ve been working so hard, the boys are really impressed.”

The smile on his face as he told you about his offseason training schedule warmed your heart. A smile formed on your lips as you saw how excited he was, talking about some of the different workouts he’s pushed himself through. Matt was like a kid in a candy story as he talked about the upcoming season. He’d already come such a long way from the rookie you met at the stadium series.

“I’m really proud of you Matt, and I can tell you’ve been working hard. I can see it for sure!”

“Oh, so you were checking me out eh? The biceps are looking pretty good if I do say so myself.”

He shot you a wink as he flexed his bicep for you, making you roll your eyes playfully as you reached over to steal a bite of his sesame chicken.

“Seriously? Some things just never change I guess.”

He slightly chucked as you shrugged your shoulders. Stealing Matt’s food was always something you’d do after telling him you didn’t like his order. Which would always lead to a silly argument once you’d stolen almost half of his chicken from his plate. Leaving him with mostly rice and veggies, which were obviously not the reason for him ordering the dish. But he never complained, always happy as long as you were.

That was something you’d always appreciated about Matt. He was selfless, always willing to sacrifice anything for you, to put himself in difficult positions for you. But you always felt like you couldn’t give him the same, your heart being pulled in the opposite direction for a guy who clearly had moved on from you like it was nothing.

You hated that you’d hurt Matt, of course losing your baby wasn’t anything you’d ever done intentionally. But to know he still felt as though it was never him in your heart, that you were solely with him for your daughter and not because you liked him enough on his own, it hurt. Because maybe you were both wrong, maybe somehow things could have worked. Had your relationship not began the way it did, if you had simply walked away once you knew Mat had cheated. Maybe you two could've had a happy ending, rather than him moving out with you both left to pick up the pieces separately.

“Y/n!”

Snapping from your thoughts you looked up at Matt, his hand holding out two fortune cookies.

“You pick first, remember?”

It was always tradition for you to pick your cookie first, Matt’s rules. He said that your intuition was better than his, and most of the time your fortunes did suit each of you perfectly.

Taking the cookie on the right you playfully smiled, the two of you ripping open the packages as you each cracked open the cookies. Pulling out the small piece of paper, you read your fortune to yourself, biting your lip as you looked at Matt, seeing him already looking back at you in anticipation. He could see the tears welling in your eyes, immediately moving to your side to comfort you. His arms holding you tight as you cried, trying to pull yourself together as this wasn’t supposed to be a night for the two of you to be sad.

“What did it say?”

You took a deep breath as you sat up, wiping your tears as you read the message out loud.

“If you want the rainbow, you have to tolerate the rain.”

You softly chuckled, now realizing it seemed silly to cry over such a cliche message. But as you looked up at Matt he was fighting his own tears, sniffling as he tried to pull himself together.

“I think that was exactly what you needed to hear right now. Like I’ve always said, your intuition is a hell of a lot better than mine.”

He gave you a smile as he stood up, collecting the dishes and taking them into the sink as he began to clean them off. You then tossed the throw pillows back onto your couch before joining him. Taking a seat on the counter as you watched him dry the dishes before placing them back in the cabinet.

“Well what about you?”

He tossed the dish towel over his shoulder as he turned to look at you, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter.

“What about me?”

“Your fortune!”

“Ohhh, let’s see, where did I put it?”

Typical Matt. He’d always put his fortune on the table, or in his pocket, the most random places thinking he’d lost it only to find it twenty minutes later.

“Here it is!”

Stuck to the bottom of his sock, that was a new one.

He playfully cleared his throat as he read from the tiny paper.

“A lifetime of happiness is in front of you.”

His eyes flashed up to meet yours, the words ringing in your ears and making your heart skip a beat. Though surely Matt didn’t see it that way, probably interpreting the fortune to be an overall meaning of the future, not literally right in front of him.

He simply shrugged as he placed the dish towel back onto the counter, “guess I’m gonna have to wait for happiness I guess. Unless, right in front of me.”

Looking down he stared at the sink, then flashed his eyes to you.

“This, washing dishes. It’s my future. Is this a sign that camp isn’t gonna go well for me?”

You rolled your eyes, practically falling off the counter at his god awful joke. Searching the apartment for your phone as he continued on, trying his best to make you laugh, which you always appreciated.

Looking at the screen you saw a multitude of text messages, all from none other than Mat. You’d immediately set your phone down, rejoining Matthew in the kitchen as you had no desire to talk to Barzal. It had been a month since you saw him, and you were not in the business of being friends only when it was convenient for him.

“Well, this has really been great, for the both of us I think. But, I gotta grab my stuff and head out. I’ve got an early training session tomorrow.”

Playfully you frowned at him as he headed to your previously shared bedroom, pulling a few things from the closet as he tossed them into a duffle bag he’d brought. Then he moved to the bathroom, and finally ended up in the living room grabbing a few books from the shelf.

“If you ever wanted to come over, not just when you need to grab some of your stuff, you can do that too you know?”

Matt softly smiled at you, appreciating the fact that you were open to still hanging out with him despite everything that happened. He felt awful for the way he left things, for accusing you of not necessarily having feelings for him or ever seeing yourself with him. It was pretty harsh when he thought back on it. And he wished things could’ve played out differently. But to even get an open invite from you to spend time together after the things he’d said, he felt that was a step in the right direction.

“I know that now, and I will definitely keep that in mind.”

He wrapped you in a hug before heading out the door, out of habit kissing your head before awkwardly apologizing. To which you’d told him you didn’t mind, it still felt so normal for him to do so. He promised to text you once he got home, but told you not to wait up as he might hit traffic on his drive and you need your rest for work in the morning. He truly did know you way too well.

Heading back into the living room you heard your phone buzzing on the coffee table. A photo of you and Mat Barzal filling the screen, one you’d apparently never changed after your breakup.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um, is everything okay?”

You scoffed at his somewhat annoyed tone as you took a seat on the couch, pulling a throw blanket over your legs as you spat back at him.

“Like you care? It’s been a month since I saw you and this is the first I’ve heard from you. What about the five other days I’ve tried reaching out? You didn’t care until now?”

He sighed on his end of the call, realizing he’d come off wrong, trying to apologize and start over as he explained himself.

“Well, you’re right. I should’ve responded sooner. But, Ava was in town, I couldn’t have her seeing me talking to you. But, I mean I texted you back now. You’re the one ignoring me now.”

He playfully chuckled, though you were not amused, Mat always thinking he could use charm to move past any wrongdoing.

“First of all, what good does texting me now do if I reached out weeks ago? Maybe I needed you then. And second of all, I wasn’t ignoring you. I was busy. Matt came over to grab some of his things and he brought dinner.”

Mat’s line of the phone went silent, eventually you’d heard him take a deep breath before he spoke.

“So, the guy packs up his things and walks out on you, but suddenly you’re hanging out and having dinner together? Are you two broken up or not?”

His tone was annoyed and angry, though you weren’t sure why considering he was happily engaged, which you didn’t think you needed to remind him of but clearly he’d forgotten.

“Last time I checked, you’re happy with Ava. So why do you care so much? I’m not allowed to have dinner with him? He and I were literally going to have a child, you think that everything between him and I just goes away overnight because I’m no longer pregnant?”

You found yourself laughing, the conversation seeming silly to you. There was no need for you to explain yourself to him, but part of you felt like you owed him something. After all, you did the same thing right back to him that he’d done to you.

“There was never anything between you two! Stop trying to pretend like there was. I get it okay, I fucked up. I should have never cheated on you. Do I think it gave you the right to do the same to me, no. But I could see how I pushed you into the arms of someone else. What I won’t let you do, is try to tell me that even for a second there was something between you and him. He got you pregnant after one night, and you two had to be together for your baby. That’s not love, that’s nothing close to what we had. So don’t you dare try to say it’s anything similar.”

You tried not to take his words personally, knowing they were coming from a place of hurt as he’d clearly not gotten over everything that happened. Rather just tried to mask it all by jumping into an engagement he clearly wasn’t satisfied with. But you weren’t going to just accept the things he said, letting him act as if there were never any feelings felt between you and Matthew.

“Mat, you have never once been in the same room as us. You’ve not been around Matt and I, you don’t know the feelings that are there. You don’t know how we feel towards one another, so you can’t tell me how I feel or how I don’t.”

“How you feel? So what, you still supposedly like this guy? After he packed his shit and walked out on you during one of the hardest moments of your life, you still have fucking feelings for someone like that? You’d want to be with the guy after all this?”

“Well I stayed with you during your shitty moments didn’t I?”

The comment was harsh, but you didn’t care. Mat always thought he could do no wrong, that the way he spoke was justified, and you were sick of him trying to make you feel bad, regardless if you’d hurt him or not.

“Why do you fucking care so much Mat? Must I remind you, you’re engaged! You chose her! So why could you possibly care so much if I still have feelings for Matt or would consider trying to do things the right way with him?”

The line went silent, and it felt as if minutes had passed before Mat finally confessed to you why’d he become so frustrated with you admitting you might truly have feelings for Rempe after all.

“Because I called off my engagement.”

[rayllum-weekly]

Rayllum Weekly Round Up:

TDP News:

Meta:

Rayla's Super Selective Hearing, or What is Callum Actually Afraid of? by @raayllum

Fanart:

Rayllum wing hug by @crazy4httydxartist

High Mage Callum by @kisa-seira

Because she’s Rayla by @taylaedraws

Rayllum baby art for @ttm-rayllum-baby-au by @awkwardsauce

Ryn by @its-leethee (from Love You Again by @thosefiveadoraburrs and @raayllum)

Rayla and Callum by @virenkinnie

Rayla and Callum by @tategaminu

Star Rayla by @echonebula1

Dragon Prince couples (featuring Rayllum) by @boos-arts

Modern AU Rayllum by @cosmicpoutine

Stargazing Rayllum by @currymunches

New Fanfic:

when you aim at the devil, make sure you don’t miss (NSFW) by @a-very-sparkly-nerd

Left behind by @ttm-rayllum-baby-au

Don't Leave Me 'Til My Sorry Life Has Ceased by @a-very-sparkly-nerd

Tears and Rain by @hiccupshypotheticalleftsock

get your ass in gear, make this whole town disappear (NSFW) by @a-very-sparkly-nerd

(Un)Necessary Attention by @amys-books27

Wings (NSFW) by @blutopaz15

Stargazing by @photoniccyclone

you missed my heart @actually-sobbingteacup

Up-Dated Fanfic:

I'll Give You My Life (From Now Till Forever) - Chapter 3 by @thatartiststudios

In Absentia - Chapter 3 by @zuppizup

Miraculum Vitae- Chapter 3 by @moondustgleam

A Dark Alternative - Chapter 8 by @zuppizup

It Always Was, It Was Always Her - Chapter 2 by @thatartiststudios

Piece of your heart - Chapter 3 by @ttm-rayllum-baby-au

Other Content:

Rayllum phone wallpaper by @sorinethemastermind

Rayllum phone screen by @sorinethemastermind

Matching Rayllum phone screens by @sorinethemastermind

Already Over by @amys-books27

- If I missed your post, please DM me and I’ll be sure to include it.

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

I'm going to say this on every chapter i post here LOL, but GO TO CHAPTER 1 AND READ!!!!! MY!!!!!!! WARNINGS!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 3

[Prev] [Next]

You loved your office, you really did.  Two of your coworkers were your best friends from high school, the work-life balance was ideal, your bosses were super understanding and encouraging of all their employees endeavors, and the weekly catered lunches truly felt like a luxury.

The only qualm was the noise.

The office had an open layout, and while everyone had their own desk, it was very easy to move around the space and talk to everyone while on and off the job.  This meant any personal phone calls had to be taken out of the entire vicinity.  And in your case, into an unlocked broom closet across the industrial building’s hallway, in front of another agency’s door.

You were sitting on a plastic box containing something you weren’t sure of, anxiously bouncing your feet as your heart hammered in your chest.  Each time the ringback tone exited your speakers caused another cold wave of anxiety to flood from your head to the soles of your feet.  You swallowed a thick glob of spit as you struggled to maintain your breathing.  You were sure your blouse was going to have armpit stains when you returned to your desk.

Finally, a voice picked up the other line.

[Thank you for calling Grand Line Gynecology and Obstetrics, how can I help you today?]

The sweet, welcoming voice of the receptionist on the other end of the line made you breathe a sigh of relief, though you weren’t out of the woods just yet.  Far from it.  “Hi, uhm, I’m a patient with Dr. Robin, and I was wondering if I would be able to get an appointment as soon as possible.”

A few keyboard clicking noises followed your request.

[Can I have your name and date of birth?]

You quietly relayed your information, biting your lip impatiently.  More typing sounds could be heard.

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, and do you mind if I ask the purpose of your visit?]

You knew it was important information for your doctor to know prior to seeing you, but the thought still made a heavy pit develop in your stomach.  “Uhm… f-fertility consultation…?  I guess.”

More clicking.

[Of course, I’m looking up Dr. Robin’s availability right now, hold on just a moment, please!]

You’ve dealt with crappy phone receptionists in the past, but whoever was usually on the receiving end of your calls to your gynecologist was always so pleasant.  You could never quite recognise her voice in person, but her bubbly and patient speech was always greatly appreciated during your otherwise anxious phone calls.  Finally, she came back onto the line.

[Dr. Robin’s next available appointment isn’t for three months, unfortunately, but I can still fit you into that time slot if you would like!  I can also write your name down, so if any appointments open up sooner, we will give you a call.]

You breathed another sigh of relief.  “That would be amazing, thank you.”

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, I have you marked down for Thursday, May 1st at 10:00 AM.  We’ll give you a call if anything changes and you can always call us if you develop other concerns, okay?]

You smiled at the broom closet floor.  “I appreciate it, thank you very much.”  The phone clicked off after trading goodbyes, your arm falling onto your lap.  You hadn’t realized how tight you were gripping your phone until then, your hand trembling with how harsh your hold was on the device.  With a sigh, you opened your text conversation with Law.

Hi baby, I just called the obgyn, they cant fit me in until may 1st but she said if anything opens up theyll call me back.  Fingers crossed something opens up sooner, hopefully you dont have to wait as long!  I’ll see you later, i love youuuuu ^3^

You put your phone to sleep and stuffed it into the pocket of your trousers as you finally exited the broom closet.  An employee of the agency across from yours was entering his office and tossed you a very confused glance at you leaving the innocuous room, but you paid him no mind as you walked back into your office to continue your work.

“There you are, I was wondering where you went!”  Ikkaku was waiting for you at your desk with her work laptop in hand.  “I wanted to go over a few designs with you, but when I went to find you, you were just, POOF!  Gone like the wind!”

You laughed at her excited talking, finally sitting at your desk again and grabbing an unoccupied chair for your friend to sit in.  “Sorry to make you wait, I had to take a phone call.”

Ikkaku brushed off having to wait with a cheery, “It’s fine!  No biggie!” before opening her laptop and inputting her passcode.  You felt your phone buzz in your pocket.  While Ikkaku was opening her files, you slipped out your device and tapped the screen.

Baby~~<3

Hopefully something opens up, but it’s good that you at least got an appointment.  I got my appointment with urology on my lunch break today.  We’re making steps.  I love you, see you later.

You smiled at the text.

“Why does Law need to see a urologist?” Ikkaku whispered beside you, making you jump and hide your screen.  She was looking at you with curiosity in her big, brown eyes.

“It’s nothing, really.”  You quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket.  Ikkaku was your best friend, she really was, but the last thing you wanted to do was bring up your potential infertility issues while on the clock, and especially while your anxieties were still fresh and raw at the forefront of your brain.

Ikkaku must have sensed your profound fear, as she shrugged and turned her attention back to her laptop.  “So here’s what I was drafting…”

—

While you had to wait around three months for your appointment, Law’s was scheduled shockingly quick.  Almost too quick for his liking.  The following week.  Which, to Law’s mutual discomfort and relief, came much quicker than he thought it would.  

He was thanking the heavens above that he had the day off for once.

Law followed all the rules to a T before the appointment.  No ejaculation 2-3 days prior, but no longer than 5.  He’d jerk off into a sterile cup in the clinic, hand that to the doctor, and wait a few hours.  While waiting, he’d get his hormone blood work collected.  Easy as pie.  He walked into the clinic feeling oddly confident in himself and his abilities to follow pre-procedure protocol, as a doctor himself.  The brief moment of cocky joy was interrupted as soon as the fertility doctor entered the examination room Law was sitting in.

“Alriiiight!  Mr. Trafalgar Law!”  The doctor was shouting his name before even closing the door, making the black-haired man cringe.  The nametag on the open laboratory-style coat he wore read ‘Dr. Franky.’  Next to the name tag was a little enamel pin of a robot.  The door was closed with a moderate slam.  “You’re that cardiologist from New World Hospital, right?  You’re crazy popular, so cool to see you in the clinic!  So we’re here to check on your little swimmers, huh?”  Dr. Franky, who was shockingly tall and very broad in the shoulders, plopped into his seat and placed his laptop on the counter in front of him.  

The force of him sitting on the stool caused the pneumatic tube to compress forcefully downwards.  Law had a mental image in his head of the tube exploding and propelling the spring upward into the doctor’s ass.  He barely even registered the fact that his reputation as the city’s leading cardiothoracic surgeon seemed to have followed him to his semen analysis appointment.  He shook his head quickly before nodding.  “Uh, yeah, semen analysis.”

Dr. Franky was rapidly typing in whatever patient portal he was using.  “Semen analysis is such an uppity thing to call it, I personally like calling it the Super Swimming Meet!”  He laughed, the voice echoing around the small room and making Law wince.  He finally finished typing, slamming his laptop closed.  It was then Law noticed a few pieces of scotch tape holding the laptop’s hinges together.  (What kind of clinic is this?)  Franky’s booming voice interrupted Law’s thoughts.  “All you have to do is wank off into this cup here.  Cap it tightly and bring it to the nurse’s station when you’re done and it’ll get sent off into the lab!”

Law carefully took the cup from the doctor, his face heating up in embarrassment.  “Uhm… thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with before I leave you to it?”

Law wanted to ask if there was a different room he should be doing this in, or if handing the cup to a random nurse was proper protocol, but he honestly wanted nothing more than to get out of there as quickly as possible.  He was starting to regret his colleagues at the hospital giving him clinic recommendations.  “Uhh… no thank you, I think that’s everything.”

“Alright, Mr. Trafalgar, I’ll let you get to it!”  Dr. Franky left fairly quickly, much to Law’s relief.  His ears were still ringing with the volume of the doctor’s voice.

Law was now left alone, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, holding the empty sterile plastic cup.  After that interaction, the last thing he was thinking of doing was masturbating, but he needed to get it over with.  For your sake, and his.

He awkwardly stood and undid his belt, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor before placing a few napkins onto the plastic chair and sitting back down.  He shivered at the cold feeling of the napkin-covered chair against his bare ass.  This was the least erotic situation he could’ve ever experienced.  He figured it would be far from the norm, but this was beyond any expectation he could’ve developed.  He shivered.

Grabbing the cup again, Law unscrewed the cap just enough so that he’d be able to pop it open as soon as he needed to.  When he stared at his flaccid dick, however, he uttered a defeated sigh.

‘Think of something to get you hard, man, think of your wife,’ he told himself.  Even his inner voice was desperate.

The sterile doctor’s office was completely inhibiting any thoughts of you to remain permanent in his head.  Every time he tried to think of your smell, your taste, the feeling of your bare flesh against his fingers, he would inhale and take in the bland stench of sterile alcohol and plastic.  He groaned.

Reaching into his pants pocket on the floor, he procured his phone.  Opening an incognito window on his web browser, he inwardly apologized to you (and double checked that the door was locked) before opening up a porn website for the first time since he was an undergrad in college.

—

Law came home a few hours after you.  You were standing at the stove setting the oven preheat temperature, a loaf pan of uncooked banana bread sitting on the stove top waiting to bake.  You turned to ask how his appointments went, but kept your mouth shut when you saw Law kick his shoes off and sit at the bar counter in your kitchen, placing his head in his hands.

“What happened?” you hurried over to him, immediately growing anxious that he had received bad news.  Your stomach turned.

He lifted his head.  “I… I had to watch porn today.”

[reineyday]

mishanks dreamsharing au! been posting chapters weekly, and it's almost done. :) i was gonna wait 'til it was complete to post abt it here but i need a lil pick-me-up so i'm posting abt it now haha. hope ya check it out!

Mihawk meets the red-haired boy in his dreams when he is fifteen. The edges of the hallway they meet in are wispy, but the boy appears clear, his hair almost too vivid in contrast. Then again, this is a dream.

“Hawkeyes Mihawk!” the boy exclaims, a little too loudly. Then he smacks his face with both his hands. “Oh my god, I am so lame,” he mutters. “It won’t go like this in person. I’ll be cool. This can be practice.”

Mihawk wakes up before he can find out what the boy means, but doesn’t think anything of it as he gets out of bed to make himself breakfast—weird dreams happen all the time for no reason, after all.

It’s only when he sees the same exact boy again a week later that Mihawk begins to take note.

(Mishanks Dreamsharing AU.)

[spiteless-xo]

╰┈➤ the boys at work. [completed] ⋙ You're in love with your best friend, but he's still hung on up his ex-girlfriend, so you start sleeping with his former best friend to make him jealous. The four of you work together at one of the city's most prestigious professional services companies and you're struggling so much with the workload that you're worried you might get fired. Can you successfully juggle all these relationships and your career, or will you burn out and lose it all?

ft. eren/reader, jean/reader, minor pieck/jean cw. explicit content - minors do not interact, fem!reader, smut, alternate universe - college/university, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex, dubious consent, multiple orgasms, multiple partners, multiple sex positions, cum swallowing, blow jobs, cumplay, creampie, ass play, mention of canonical character death, porn with plot, dirty talk, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, mental health issues, love triangles, pining, slow burn, panic attacks, it gets worse before it gets better, angst and hurt/comfort, jealousy, no use of y/n, second person POV an. all of these links will take you to their AO3 page. there are content warnings at the beginning of every chapter. this is loosely a sequel to the boys at school, but it can be read as a standalone series and you won't be missing out. the reader of this story is a different person than the reader from the first series. i might not update this masterlist regularly but new chapters are posted every tuesday on AO3. warning that some of the chapter summaries may contain spoilers.

“I still think this is a stupid fucking plan,” Eren says, “I think you’re better off moving on to someone else than trying to get Jean fucking Kirstein to fall in love with you.”

“Like who?” you ask, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“Someone like you?”

“At least I’m not an asshole,” he scoffs. “And I fuck you good. You’d be better off with me than with him.”

“I thought you didn’t do relationships.”

“I don’t,” Eren looks over at you with pursed lips. “I’d break your heart.”

“Hmm, tempting, but I think I’ll stick with Jean.”

“He’ll break it too,” he says. “Maybe even worse than me.”

01. Operation: Make Jean Jealous (e)

You're tired of secretly pining over Jean so you have the brilliant idea to hook up with his former best friend to try to make him jealous.

02. Titan LLP

It's your first week at your new job and you meet some of your coworkers.

03. Truth or Dare (e)

You play a fun little drinking game with your coworkers, but Pieck throws herself all over Jean and it pisses you off. Eren comforts you.

04. Halloween

Flashback to the first time you met Connie, Sasha, and Jean.

05. Roomie Movie Night (e)

You and Jean run around town to pick up supplies for your weekly roommate movie night and then you meet up with Eren after.

06. Jean's Ex-Girlfriend

You go for lunch with Pieck and Jean and then talk with Sasha about how the plan to make Jean jealous is going.

07. The Cabin in Trost

Flashback to when you, Connie, Sasha, and Jean went to the Kirstein Family Cabin for the weekend

08. Work Sucks

You confide in Eren about your struggles with work.

09. Performance Improvement Plan (e)

You have a breakdown at work when you get stuck at the office late. Eren helps take your mind of things and Jean gets upset.

10. Sparkling Fruit Wine

You celebrate successfully making through your probation period with Jean and the roommates. Check out this art by Toxrez on Tumblr of Jean and Reader buying wine together!

11. Eren fucking Jaeger (e)

Eren's perspective on how things have been going. Check out this art by Whenrene on Tumblr of Reader and Eren and Reader and Jean! AND check out this art by Toxrez on Tumblr with various scenes of Reader and Eren making out in his car.

12. The Reeves Job

You and a few others get assigned to the Reeves Job in Trost. There was a mistake with the room bookings and you debrief the past few nights with Sasha over the phone.

13. Fieldwork (e)

Day one at the client's overlaps to an evening work-session at Jean's room.

14. Sleepless

Lack of sleep negatively affects your performance and Eren gets frustrated with his feelings. Check out this art by Haru_Kichou on Twitter of Connie, Sasha, and Jean!

15. Hopeless

Things get a lot worse for you and Reiner at work, but Jean comes by to help you out. Another conversation with Sasha gives you a renewed sense of confidence about your love life.

16. Shameless (e)

You run to Eren for comfort after another hard day at work and he almost says something to you that he's never said before.

17. Mrs. Kirstein

First night at the Kirstein home with Jean.

18. Mr. Kirstein

Dinner with Kirsteins and you and Jean have a serious talk about what's going on between the two of you.

19. Jean-boy (e)

You spend the night with Jean.

20. Stress

After returning to the hotel, you have another phone call with Sasha that leaves you with more questions than answers. You and Pieck team up to try to help Reiner with his stress at work and you find out something about Jean that shatters your whole world view.

21. Anxiety (e)

Eren finally acknowledges his feelings for you and doesn't know what to do about it.

22. Hot Flashes (e)

Jean tells you something that makes you feel sick to your stomach and then he helps comfort you after another stressful day at work.

23. Panic Attack

After a difficult two weeks in Trost, Petra tells you something that sends you spiraling.

24. Dinner and Drinks (e)

The accountants lost the bet with the consultants about who could finish the job faster, so the accountants have to pay for dinner. What could go wrong? Check out this alternate ending, Beautiful by shepnicolo on AO3!

25. Jean fucking Kirstein (e)

Jean's perspective on how things have been going.

26. The Aftermath

Jean and Reader talk about what happened the night before and she finds herself at the Titan offices on a Sunday.

27. Fresh Start

Petra helps Reader secure a part-time job and the truth finally comes out about Eren.

28. First Date

Eren and Reader "start over" and Jean has an uncomfortable conversation with Erwin.

29. Visitor

Jean comes to see you at Reiner's apartment and the two of you talk in circles.

30. No Regrets

You and Eren have another date and you ask him to be honest with you about his feelings. Jean takes on some more responsibility at work.

31. Choices

You and Jean have an honest conversation about your relationship and boundaries. Check out this art by toxrez on Tumblr!

32. Resemblances (e)

You and Jean spend some time together in the morning and then Jean has some interesting conversations at work.

33. Honesty

Levi gives you some life advice and Sasha visits and asks some difficult questions. Check out this playlist by Shepnicolo on Tumblr and her explanation behind each song!

34. Giving Up

Reiner invites you to join him on his trip to Hizaru, officially! You have some interesting conversations that have you feeling confused about your relationships. Jean's dad visits the Titan office.

35. Empty

Jean is angry after his dad's visit at work and he reaches out to an old friend for some guidance after an argument.

36. Rekindled (e)

You talk to Levi about everything you've been going through and then finally Eren answers your calls. Check out this alternate ending, Crestfallen by shepnicolo on AO3!

37. Endings

You talk to Jean and beg him for something. Check out this playlist by femme-lune on Tumblr!

38. New Journey

The End. Check out this art by toxrez on Tumblr and this moodboard by jeanboyjean on Tumblr!

[aflame4goinghome]

Bad Reputation

s.f.k. x reader

chapter one

Series Summary: As a local jazz pianist in Nashville, you never fear being in the spotlight. Living in the same city, you’ve become very familiar with Sam Kiszka, a young musician who’s managed to gain a bad reputation in the city and throughout the country within his band’s fanbase. You’ve always just ignored Sam’s promiscuous and impulsive ways, but when you’re approached by the band to help repair his image, you’re given an offer you can’t refuse.

Word Count: 6k

Chapter Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex, mentions of smoking (tobacco & marijuana), flirting, arguing, sexual tension… you get it ;) (no smut… yet)

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so excited to share this series with you all. The idea came to me and I think it really ended up so good, I can’t wait for you to read it. Let me know in the comments or in my messages if you want to be added to the taglist for this series! See you soon :)

Listen to the playlist here :)

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

The club was dark and crowded as you entered through the front door and made your way backstage to begin setting up. Your shoulders brushed past other people in the crowd, making it difficult for you to get to the back. On your way there, you paused for a moment, deciding to stop at the bar first for a much-needed drink.

“Hey, Sebastian!” you said, leaning over the bar as you greeted the bartender. You’ve been playing here for so many years, these guys were some of the closest friends you’ll ever have.

“Y/N, hey! Need a pick-me-up?” he said, turning his attention to you fully for a moment as the bar was bustling with other customers. Better make this quick.

“Can I just get a double rum and coke? Only a little bit of ice in it,” you asked, smiling politely as he nodded and began making your drink.

You take a second to look around the club as you wait, feeling a bit nervous as you take in how many people are actually there. You’ve played big crowds before, sure, but tonight felt extra intimidating for some reason.

You had sensed for a few months now that your big break might be coming soon, at least that’s what you’d hoped. You’ve grown to be quite popular in the greater Nashville area, but your reach hasn’t gone much further than that. You hope to branch off and move to New York one day, to play there professionally full-time.

For now, though, you make your living by playing gigs weekly, posting your music online, and taking a few brand deals here and there. It’s working well, and you make enough money to get by, but you’re not entirely fulfilled.

“Double rum and coke for the lovely lady,” Sebastian said, sliding your drink across the bar toward you with a smile. You return his smile and take it in your hand, tipping it toward him as a thank you.

“Thanks, Seb. I’ll be back later, you know I’m gonna need it,” you muttered, taking a long swig of your drink before squeezing your way through the rest of the crowd and finally making it to the backstage door.

Pushing the door open, you turned the corner toward your usual dressing room and started to set yourself up. You take your coat off, place it on the small couch with your tote bag, and then turn to the mirror to touch up your makeup before you take the stage in 15 minutes. You hear the door crack open, so you turn your head to look and see who it is.

“There you are, Lucy!” you exclaimed, moving to the door to greet her with a hug. “Where the hell have you been? I didn’t see you at the bar before.”

“Sorry, babe, Seb had me refilling the kegs downstairs for him… lazy bastard,” she scoffed, moving past you to plop down on the couch. “That’s a man’s job! That shit is so heavy!” You chuckle at her, finishing off your drink and then turning back to the mirror to finish applying your lipstick.

“He’s building up your strength, Luce! What happened to equal rights?” you laughed, making eye contact with her in the mirror as she rolled her eyes at you.

“Whatever, Y/N. I don’t see you lifting any heavy things,” she mutters, crossing her arms and throwing her head back.

Lucy was probably your best friend in the whole city. You met her in high school, being in the same jazz band class together, and immediately clicked. She works at Seb’s jazz club part-time as a bartender and server, which is how you started playing there. You play plenty of gigs at other places too, but this place became your regular haunt, thanks to Lucy’s help. She asked Sebastian to give you a chance to audition 4 years ago, and you’ve been playing there ever since.

The two of you live together in a little apartment in Midtown, only a couple blocks away from the club. After graduating high school, Lucy decided to go to Belmont for journalism while you ended up just starting to work on your music full-time. You made ends meet and helped pay rent while Lucy went to school, and she’s worked to make it up to you ever since.

She’s in her last semester of graduate school now at Vanderbilt, getting a business degree with hopes of founding a newspaper of her own one day. At 24, she seems like she’s finally getting her life together, but for you, it feels like you’re only just getting started. You try not to compare yourself to her or anyone else, which was something your mother always nagged you about. You knew she was right, but you can’t help it.

Despite all of that, you’re sure that you’ll break into the industry soon. Seb had planned to hook you up with his buddy who works in one of the recording studios downtown to get you in and record your own stuff. He’s just waiting on your word to tell him that the album is ready, but you haven’t been able to finish it for the life of you. You’re not sure if it’s fear or perfectionism, but it just doesn’t feel finished to you yet. For now, you’re filling your time with gig after gig, hoping to find inspiration.

“Stop sulking in here and get back to work, I have to be out there in 5,” you say, turning around to give her a stern look. She scoffs at you and then stands up, walking out the door.

“Break a leg!” she shouts as she rounds the corner, leaving you alone once more.

You have to admit that you’re feeling nervous. You compiled a few originals to test out tonight with the crowd, hoping to get some excited reactions to some stuff that you planned to include in your record. You had a few classics in the setlist too, including your favorite arrangements of Misty and Lullaby of Birdland, to make sure that the crowd doesn’t get too lost. But you hope that you’re new stuff will keep them captivated.

You take a deep breath, brushing your hands down your dress a few times to straighten it out and taking one last look in the mirror before exiting the dressing room and heading toward the stage. You hear Seb announce your name as you turn the corner and stride onto the stage, flashing a quick smile at the crowd before sitting down at the piano.

The crowd hushed as your fingers plinked out the first few notes, and then you started your first piece. Your hands glided across the keys with ease as you closed your eyes, getting lost in the music. Your first original piece went off without a hitch, the crowd cheering loudly at your extensive solo. They were enraptured by the covers you chose and your confidence was truly shining brightly off of you.

The set ended as quickly as it began and the club erupts in applause as you played the last note and stood up to take a bow. You look out into the crowd and see your friends back at the bar, flashing them a wide smile. Your eyes pan across the rest of the room, seeing all of the people cheering for you. This was what you were made for, you were sure of it. This is what you’re meant to do.

As your eyes stop at the back corner of the room, your expression quickly drops when you see the group at the large booth. It was a group of men from a band that you were very familiar with, bumping elbows at all the music venues in Nashville. It wasn’t the band specifically that you had a problem with, but just one specific man who always gave you trouble. Sam Kiszka.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, flashing one more smile at the crowd before rushing backstage to your dressing room. You were so not in the mood for his antics tonight, not after putting on such a good show. The rest of his brothers, you could deal with, but not him. You refuse to let him tear down the confidence in yourself that you only just built up.

You grabbed your things in your dressing room and then hurried back out to the bar, needing to get a refill on your drink before even attempting to socialize with anybody.

“Seb– another, please. Pour it heavy,” you lament, resting your elbows on the bar and putting your head in your hands. You hear him chuckle as he starts your drink and you let out a low groan.

“I take it you saw them, then?” Lucy said, leaning against the bar next to you. You nodded as your head still sat in your hands, not bothering to look up at her. “Y/N, they’re really not that bad, I don’t understand what your problem is.” Your head shot up and you glared at her frustratedly.

“Not that bad? Sam takes every opportunity he can to belittle my music and talent every time I see him,” you scoffed, taking your drink from Seb and taking a long sip. “And when he’s not berating me, he’s trying to get in my pants.” Lucy rolls her eyes, stepping behind the bar to grab some drinks and put them on her tray.

“As if I’d ever stoop that low. That man’s been in bed with every single woman in Nashville. Probably even taken women, too!” you ranted, crossing your arms and taking another sip.

“Just ignore him, babe. I know the rest of them would like to see you,” Lucy said, lifting the tray to rest on her shoulder. “These are their drinks. Just come with me.”

She walks away with the tray toward the other side of the club to find their table. You linger for a moment and then let out an annoyed groan, throwing back another sip before reluctantly following behind her.

You followed Lucy with your head down, trying not to look too eager or willing to go with her. As you approached the table, Josh was the first one to catch a glimpse of you, a toothy smile growing across his face.

“There she is, the woman of the hour,” Josh remarks, opening his arms wide to pull you in for a hug. You accept, squeezing him tightly before pulling away. You smiled shyly as the others greeted you as well, except Sam, of course. He was distracted, seemingly complimenting the top Lucy had on. Barf.

She’d already been there, done that, which isn’t exactly surprising. Your best friend always had an affinity for one-night stands, never really wanting to settle down or get too serious. You never cared at all, until she told you one morning that she went home with Sam after a show one night. She promised that she didn’t plan to do it again, claiming she used him just as much as he used her, and you left it at that.

She kept her word, never going home with him again, but that didn’t stop him from flirting with her every time he came in here. You rolled your eyes as you watched him glance down at her cleavage subtly, but not subtle enough for you not to notice. He finally notices you standing there, turning toward you with a smirk. Here we go.

“Y/N… that was quite the set,” Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall next to their booth. Josh and Jake excuse themselves to go outside for a smoke, and Danny takes a seat back in the booth, scrolling on his phone. Alone, great.

“Thanks, I think,” you say sarcastically, taking a sip of your drink as you look up at him suspiciously. You didn’t trust that look on his face one bit, and you were determined to find out what he was up to.

“Oh, that wasn’t a compliment,” he said smugly. “If you’re gonna arrange music, at least write a song where the chord progressions actually make sense together.” He raises his beer bottle to his lips and tips his head back to take a sip. You scoff at him, trying to take a deep breath before you blow this entire thing out of proportion.

“Samuel, you wouldn’t know a good arrangement even if it hit you in your smug face,” you bit out, still doing your best to hold yourself back. You swing back the rest of your drink, letting the cold ice hit your lips before slamming it down on the table next to you. “It was a B flat and E flat blues. Who crowned you the king of jazz composition?”

His smirk grew wider across his face as his back left the wall and he began to tower over you. You sucked in a deep breath, wondering if you should've just kept your mouth shut, but frankly you didn’t care. His long hair frames his face as he looks down on you, his eyes dark and cold.

“I did,” he answered, his face growing uncomfortably close to yours. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.” His tongue skims his bottom lip as his eyes bore into yours. No. No. He is not gonna win this round.

“Is that why you enjoy bothering me so much?” you asked, keeping your eyes locked on his, insistent on not backing down. His lips turn upward into a smug smile as he leans back away from you, placing his back on the wall once more.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just think it’s fun,” he answers, smirking down at you.

“You’re such a fucking freak,” you scoff, crossing your arms. You notice a change in his eyes at your words, and you start to wonder if you took it too far.

“You’ve got no idea, sweetheart,” Sam says, stepping forward again to stand over you.

“Gross,” you mutter under your breath, looking up at him, trying to keep a straight face.

“Now, I don’t think you mean that,” Sam whispered, leaning down further to speak into your ear. “I think you like it, actually.”

“You wish,” you state, still maintaining eye contact. His mouth twitches and turns up into a smirk as one of his arms snakes around your waist.

“All that blushing you’re doing says otherwise, doll. Even in this dark club, you can’t hide it,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. Fuck.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirked. You watch silently as Sam puts his beer bottle down on the table and then reaches into the front pocket of his shirt, pulling out a lighter and a blunt. “C’mon Daniel, let’s go outside.”

Sam shoots you a wink before nodding his head in Danny’s direction and the two of them walk toward the front entrance. They pass the twins on their way out, who both turn to look at you with puzzled expressions as they sit down at the booth. You sit down next to Josh as you try to adjust the annoyed look that is so clearly plastered across your face.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrow at you and taking a sip from his glass of whiskey sitting on the table. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, not even having an answer to give.

“The usual, of course. Can’t seem to leave me alone,” you muttered. The two of them let out a breathy laugh as Josh reaches over to put his arm around you.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him, darling,” he offers, smoothing his fingers along your shoulder. “It’s all just show.”

“For it just being show, it sure does feel pretty insulting,” you say, fiddling with your fingers atop the table.

“You’ll adjust eventually,” Jake says. “We like havin’ you around, so don’t run off just yet.” A smile grows across your face at Jake’s subtle attempt at an olive branch.

“I’ll tough it out, I promise,” you answer. You suppose you can adjust to Sam’s antics to spend time with them. You could use all the friends in the industry as you could get.

“How long have you been playing piano?” Josh asks, taking a sip of his tequila soda.

“Oh, I started lessons when I was 6,” you answered with a smile.

“That’s sick, I started pretty young too,” Jake replies, resting his arms on the table. Bonding with successful musicians has been your dream and the fact that you’re getting along so well made you really happy.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard! Believe it or not, I am actually a bit of a fan of your band. Casually, of course,” you smile, trying to be chill about it. It wasn’t entirely a lie, you are just a casual fan, but you’ve definitely watched an interview or two as well, leading to you knowing more about them than you intended to.

“Oh, yeah? Which one of us is your favorite, huh?” Josh asks smugly, raising an eyebrow at you hopefully. God, the amount of testosterone in this room could be cut with a knife.

“Hmmm… Danny,” you jest, elbowing Josh softly. The three of you break out into laughter before you check your phone to see the time. 12:32 am. Yikes, it’s late.

“Well, I gotta head out, unfortunately,” you say, standing up from the booth. Before you had the chance to walk off, Josh stopped you.

“Hey, uh, we’re gonna be in the studio on Monday for a few hours to work on some new music… would you wanna stop by?” Josh asked, looking up at you hopefully. “It could be a cool way for you to get exposed to how the recording process works.”

“Oh, wow, that would be incredible!” you smiled. “That’s such a kind offer, thank you so much! I’ll definitely be there.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you the details,” he says with a smile, and you wave goodbye to them both and walk over to the bar to find Lucy.

“Ready to head out?” you ask, leaning over the bar toward her.

“Sure, let’s go!” she answers, turning around to grab her jacket and bag.

“God, I have so much to fill you in on…” you say as you walk out the door toward your apartment. You told her all about your brief run-in with Sam, and then Josh’s invitation to the studio as you walk down the street. She quite literally squeals when she hears the news.

“OH MY GOD, Y/N this could be it! This could be your big break!” she exclaimed as you turned the corner to the path to your building. “If you get in with their producers, this could really get you started! You have to make a good impression.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m freaking out! I really can’t screw this up,” you said as you turn the key in the door.

“You could never screw it up, babe. They’re gonna love you, I promise,” Lucy reassured you, hugging you tightly before branching off to her own bedroom.

All you had to do was get through the weekend, and then the day of your dreams will be all yours. Fuck, you don’t have anything prepared! As you shut the door to your bedroom, you rushed to sit down at your keyboard, turning it on. You pulled out your phone and opened the voice memos app, pressing start and then setting it down. You have to get a good demo down if you want to impress the producers at the studio and book a session there.

You spent all of Saturday and Sunday recording a few of your originals on your phone, taking dozens of takes to make sure each of them was perfect. This is it, it’s your moment.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

Your alarm goes off at 8 am, giving you two hours until you’re meant to meet Greta Van Fleet at the studio. Josh texted you yesterday with the time and address, emphasizing that you shouldn’t overthink it. He knew that you’d be freaking out, and he was right.

You’re hoping that a cool shower will wake you up and help you shake the nerves off. You get up out of bed, rub your eyes, and then grab your towel and walk out of your bedroom to the bathroom.

As the cold water hits your back, you start to think over the day that you have ahead of you. If everything goes the way you planned, then you might leave today with a record deal, or plans to meet up to make a deal. You appreciated Josh’s help so greatly, you really weren’t expecting it. He’s always been so kind to you, more so than the rest, but you figured that it was just the way he was. Now, it feels like he really has your back.

All you had to do was make it through today without any incidents with Sam. You hope that the other guys have already briefed him and told him to be on his best behavior, but you doubt that he’ll abide by that. You can hold your own, though, and you doubt that he’d pull something too obscene while working.

After drying off and getting ready to go, you find that you still have about 20 minutes until you need to leave. To pass the time, you sat down in your bed and opened up Instagram to scroll mindlessly for a little while until you had to drive downtown.

As you scroll down, your eye is caught by a post by The Nashville Fiddle, which is a local magazine. The Fiddle posts mostly about drama and celebrities, and you usually ignore everything they post, since you try not to give gossip the time of day. But this time, your eyes were stuck on their post, with a video of Sam Kiszka, belligerent and wasted outside of a club downtown Saturday night.

In the video, you can see Sam flirting with a girl outside of the club when a big, burly man comes up to him angrily. Clearly, this girl was taken, and her boyfriend was not happy. You can see Sam hollering back at him, getting in his face as he slurs his words before the man takes a large swing at him. Then, you see Danny show up behind him and pull him back, dragging him down the street, far away from the scene.

How could he be so stupid? Flirting with girls with boyfriends is bad enough, but it’s even worse to get into an argument and get caught on camera. He should know that he’s a public figure and that people can spread this kind of stuff around. What was he thinking?

You check the time and see that it’s about time to go, so you grab your tote, pick up your keys, and then head out the door. As you drive downtown, you take a few deep breaths. It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself. Everything will be fine.

Soon enough, you pull into a parking spot in front of the studio and put your car in park. 9:59 am. Just on time. You get out of the car, throw your keys into your bag, and then head toward the front door. After opening the door, you walked in and told the person at the front desk that you were meeting the band, and they directed you to the right studio.

As you enter the studio, you walk in to only find Danny sitting there. He looks up from his drum set and waves, standing up to greet you.

“Hey, Danny… where are the others?” you asked, hugging him and then taking a seat on a chair nearby. Danny lets out a long laugh, trying to compose himself before answering.

“Oh, they are never here on time. This is considered early,” he answers, smiling widely as he goes to sit back down at his set. “I wouldn’t expect any of them for at least another thirty minutes, if not longer.” You laugh along with him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Ah, Josh should have told me! Now I feel embarrassed for being so early,” you say, looking down at your phone for the time. 10:11 am.

“Nah, he just can’t admit that he’s always chronically late. He’s in denial,” Danny jokes. “Do you want anything while we wait? There’s coffee and tea over there.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice actually,” you answered, standing up to walk over to the coffee cart. “I’ll be honest, I’m not much of a morning person.” Daniel laughs, standing up to walk over with you.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever met a jazz player that was,” he says with a smile. “I think it’s just part of your DNA.” You laugh, nodding your head in agreement.

“You might be right. It’s not our fault, we play at night!” you say, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

“Sam’s the same way, y’know. Stays up ‘til ungodly hours of the night, and then doesn’t roll out of bed until after noon,” he notes, laughing to himself. You laugh awkwardly as you add cream to your cup, cringing at the possibility of having anything in common with Sam Kiszka.

Almost as if he read your mind, Sam walked through the door, sunglasses blocking the dark bags under his eyes. He’s clearly hungover, rubbing his temples as he waltzes over to the cart and grabs the pot of coffee, pouring it into his own cup.

“Rough weekend, Samuel?” you asked teasingly, having already read about his escapades from this weekend. You can see his eyes roll behind the tint of the sunglasses as he takes a sip of his black coffee.

“Don’t start with me today, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pouring more coffee into his cup to make up for what he already drank, and then walking over to the corner to sit down on the sofa. He puts his feet up on the cushions as he takes a sip and then lays his head back against the armrest.

“See what I mean?” Danny asks, laughing as he walks over to his set and starts playing on his own, seemingly practicing. The idea sends a shiver down your spine. Could you and Sam be more similar than you thought? No, no way, you thought to yourself.

Not long after, Josh and Jake walk through the door and things can finally start moving. Josh walks over to make a cup of tea and then takes a seat on a stool, taking a slow sip. You walk over to him, hoping that his usual cheery disposition would calm your nerves.

“Good morning, lovely,” Josh smiled, patting your shoulder softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” you answered nonchalantly with a shy smile.

“Good. We’re still waiting for our manager, Jodie, to arrive, so just hang tight,” he says, taking another sip of his tea.

“Hey, you know what? How about you play us something?” he asks excitedly, his eyes lighting up. “Could be a good way to wake us up, huh?”

Your eyes shoot open, looking around the room at the rest of the guys. Danny is nodding excitedly and Jake walks over to his guitar stand, picking up his Gibson SG and slinging it over his head. Sam isn’t paying attention, his sunglasses have come off and his eyes are shut as he reclines on the couch.

“Well, okay… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you answered, walking over to Sam’s keyboard next to the drumset. You turn it on and adjust the settings, giving it a funkier sound before taking a deep breath and starting to play.

You decide to play Higher Ground, by Stevie Wonder, falling into the groove of the intro of the song as your fingers move across the keys. Danny’s face lights up as he listens closely to what you’re playing, then starts playing along. Jake follows suit, adding his guitar into the mix, and playing along with you. Of course, everyone knows Stevie Wonder, but being able to play with a band was just so cool to you.

People keep on learnin’

Soldiers keep on warnin’

World keep on turnin’

‘Cause it won’t be too long

Josh sings along, his voice fitting perfectly in the range of the song. The four of you are really grooving now, and it is so fun for you. It’s been years since you’ve played with others, and you loved it.

You watch as Sam lifts his head from the couch, opening his tired eyes to look over at you all. For a moment there, you almost think that he might be smiling, but you shake it off. You’re surprised to see him rise from the couch and walk over, grabbing his Rickenbacker off the stand and putting the strap over his head. Oh, he’s gonna play along…

Sam starts plucking his bass, along with the rest of the song. You knew that they’d all played in jazz bands before, and this song was a staple, but it surprised you how easy it was to join together and play. It was almost like you belonged there.

As you start a short piano solo, their manager walks through the door and sits down on the couch. She seems to nod at you to keep going, so you finish your solo and then end the song. You’re suddenly caught by surprise as Josh starts applauding, smiling widely as he walks over to you. He stands behind you, putting his hands firmly on your shoulders, squeezing them.

“You’re an incredible talent, Y/N, truly,” Josh remarked, smiling from ear to ear as he left your side and went to sit back down. You smile shyly and get up from the bench behind the piano to go sit down on the couch with Jodie. The rest of the guys start talking cacophonously as you start your conversation privately with her.

“It’s true, you’re really good,” she says honestly, reaching out to shake yours. “I’m Jodie, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Oh, you have? Thank you so much, it’s great to meet you. I assume it was Josh who told you about me, he’s the one who invited me today,” you answer, smiling shyly at the compliment.

“I first heard about you from Sam actually… he had a lot to say about your talent on the keys,” she says, catching you completely by surprise. Sam? Is she being serious right now?

“Did he now?... Interesting,” you replied, your tone feigning confidence. “Well, I’m honored to be here today. I’ve been meaning to finally get into a studio here in Nashville.”

“Yes, I heard from Josh that you plan on recording an album of original songs,” Jodie remarks. “I’m happy to have you here! Hopefully, we can get you to work a bit! Not to mention, it’s quite nice to have a bit more of a gender balance.” You laugh together for a moment before she gets up to greet the guys, going over the agenda for the session.

They go through a few new songs, trying to get it all down perfectly. You just sit and watch, absolutely mesmerized by watching the professionals work. You even escaped to the booth for a while to see the mechanics of the equipment, talking to some of the sound techs that work there. It was a really rewarding learning experience for you.

“Okay, that’s a wrap, guys! Good work today, we’ll be back here at the same time on Friday,” Jodie says. “Sam, can you hang back for a sec?” She walks back over to sit next to you on the couch, nodding her head to motion for Sam to join you. Once she’s certain that everyone else has left the studio, she starts talking.

“So, I’ve had an idea. Just hear me out,” she started, somewhat apprehensively. “Y/N, I was thinking about how highly the guys speak about you, and how much untapped talent you have.” Okay… this is getting weird.

“And Sam, I’ve been thinking about ways to improve your public image and get you out of your rut,” she finished, trailing off as she saw Sam’s annoyed expression.

“Okay, first of all, I am not in a rut,” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms as he leaned back on the couch.

“That’s not the point,” she snapped back. “My point is that I think I might have thought of a way to solve all of our problems.” You raise your eyebrow at her, still not really understanding what she’s getting at.

“What could possibly solve both of our problems?” you ask suspiciously.

“Like I said, just hear me out…” she says, but Sam interrupts her.

“Jodie, just spit it out already,” he groaned, growing frustrated.

“I think you guys should pretend to date!” she finally spat out, looking nervously at your reactions. Your jaw dropped as she finished her sentence, unsure that you even heard her right. Sam, however, already shot up out of his seat and stood angrily above you both.

“No, fuck no, absolutely not. This is ridiculous,” he starts ranting, but she cuts him off.

“Just listen to me, Sam. You’d improve your reputation by having a charismatic and talented girlfriend, the fans would love her! And Y/N, you’d gain followers and fans for your music career, and our label can get you started in our studio. Boom, both problems are fixed.”

“No! How could I even pretend to be interested in him? It’s impossible,” you complained.

“Woah, okay, try not to sound too disgusted,” Sam said, crossing his arms with a scoff.

“Don’t act like you didn’t react the exact same way, you asshole,” you scoff, staring daggers into him.

“Whatever, it’s not the same thing,” he spits back.

“Whatever, this isn’t productive,” you admit, crossing your arms in your seat.

“Exactly. It won’t even be that bad. Besides, you’re both benefiting here! It’s perfect,” Jodie says proudly.

“Well, I don’t know about perfect, but I guess it does kind of make sense…” you muttered, looking up at Sam nervously. He raised an eyebrow at you, walking toward you.

“You want to be my fake girlfriend, Y/N?” he teased. You roll your eyes and stand up to be more level with him, hating him towering over you.

“Shut up, Sam,” you replied, a hint of pink tinting your cheeks as your eyes locked on his.

“So? You guys are in?” Jodie asked hopefully. You and Sam exchange a look, then look back at her and nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re in,” Sam answered, looking over at you with a smirk before walking toward the door. “Now, are we done here? I’ve got places to be.” You roll your eyes and reach down to grab your bag.

“We’re done here, go,” you mutter, slinging your bag over your arm. Sam walks out the door as quickly as he had came in, and you follow soon after him.

As you drive back home from the studio, you think about all of the day’s events. You almost can’t even believe that you agreed to be Sam’s girlfriend, fake or not. But you have to admit that it’s going to be great for your career, this is exactly the big break you need. You feel confident that her choice to ask you was based on your talent, so the unconventional means of gaining popularity didn’t bother you.

It kind of excited you to be included with such a famous rock band like theirs– going on tour, going to the studio, seeing the magic happen. Having to spend time with Sam was just the price you had to pay to jumpstart your music career and get into the music industry. You’re not sure what type of a commitment this arrangement is going to entail for you, but you’re honestly kind of looking forward to it. You have to admit that “Rockstar’s Girlfriend” kind of has a ring to it.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

chapter two

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