#and if it doesn’t work I’m not going anywhere I’ll still be here :)
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tmwcs · 1 day ago
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PART ONE
WARNING: None yet.
Read Part Two here.
“That’s enough y/n! You have questioned my authority for the last time—get out!”
You walk away defeated. This place—this company was the worst and you’re not entirely certain how much more you can take. All of the other female employees had already quit and left due to the inequality and harassment. It’s making you come to terms that there’s no chance for change. As soon as you say at your desk the phone rings. The call display reflected your boss secretary which enforces a sense of reluctance to answer.
“Kourt, I’m about to hold a confer—“
“I sent you an email with the claim files. All 226 of them. Paul says to have them done by Friday first thing. If you don’t complete them in time then he says don’t bother showing back up.” *click*
You remain stagnant. Processing over what had just happened you push your chair back and stared at the tile flooring. To do one file alone can take anywhere from two to five days to complete and that’s without corrections to be made. How in the world were you going to manage doing over two hundred in a forty-eight hour period?
Quickly, you make your way to the lobby and grab some water. A stinging headache clouds your head with aching pain and nausea. Clearly your boss was being petty—as always. But you never expected him to stoop so low and practically force you to quit your job. Maybe you should write a letter to corporate and submit a formal complaint? As you tried to figure out the next step in handling the situation one of the male leads in the team calls out to you.
“Paul says to give you these.”
“What’s this?” Your brow picks up as you stared at the stack of folders clamped in his palm.
“These are the analytics from the team”.
Your throat tightens around the clumped gulp. Your senses and response come out somewhat delayed while you try to control your breathing. “Lou is supposed to do the analytics.”
He scoffs while practically shoving the stack to your chest, forcing you to inherit them. “Yeah well Paul says to keep you busy since you have too much free time on your hands. With all of this it should keep you from stomping around and make unprofessional statements.”
The coworker walks away without giving you a chance to respond let alone getting a breath out. This was the last straw. There was no way you could work on these files plus complete the claims. You nearly cried as you explained what had happened to your best friend. She sympathized with you and did her best to console you while being supportive.
“I’ll have to quit. I—I can’t do anything else.”
She straightens her posture abruptly. “That won’t help your situation. If you quit, any other job you apply for are going to use your references and you already know your boss isn’t going to put in a good word for you.” Your friend makes a valid point which puts you in a state of turmoil. There was no way you could do the work alone, but quitting didn’t seem to be the wise option. “What am I going to do?” Your words hiccuped while you stared blankly at the wall.
“It will all be fine. We’ll figure something out.”
Your friend meant well but she truly spoke in passive tone. It wasn’t her fault, she had a different career and truly doesn’t understand all that goes into your line of work. “Ellie, there’s no way I can finish all of it on my own. Even with twenty other people it still is impossible. There’s always corrections to be made and just to read one file can take days. I’m done.”
A moment of silence stills the air as you display hopelessness. Suddenly, your friend's eyes widen and she presents an idea. “You know, there’s a site that uses AI that can help you. A lot of people use it.”
You nearly roll your eyes at the thought. “I’m not risking my work reputation over AI, I think I rather quit.”
Ellie gently shoves you. “Listen! I’m not lying I’ve used it before for my resume and it’s so helpful! Just try it, I promise it will help you out. Just go on chatGPT and do one file at least to see if it works.”
Leaving you with that ultimatum gave you no room to detest further. You took her advice after she left and tested one file, a large one. The generator greets you alright as you log in. “Hello, my name is ChagGPT or “Chat.” What can I help you with?”
You were somewhat stunned. The message was an experience itself as an overwhelming sense of relief hits you. All day you were drowning in sensitivity and macho attitudes. Reading the kind words on the screen made you want to hug your laptop out of emotional repair. Were you really so desperate for kindness that you are considering embracing your computer?
“Can you look at this file and generate a report categorized by these numbers?”
The generator immediately responded positively right after you hit enter. “Sure! I can do that for you.”
Within seconds the generator comprises a full report and sections off all the numerical components. Organizing them in a new attachment using the same order as the original document, an entire week's worth of work was completed in just under a minute.
“Let me know if you want me to break it down further.” The generator adds at the end. At this point, you truly were going to hold your screen.
With the amount of files given, it took you all two days to complete. On the promise date of delivery you walk into your boss’s office with a smirk crafted out of adrenaline. It was no surprise to see your boss act out of spite. “Well I guess since you’re so diligent with tasks you can continue to pick up the load in the entire team.” His score was paired with an acute tone. Most people would have been upset over Paul’s response but you didn’t care, you knew you won. If your boss insists on dedicating all the work to you with sensitive deadlines, so be it. You can play hardball just the same even though a sliver of your judgment made you feel irresponsible for using AI to complete the workload. Yet, it was the only way for you to keep your job let alone stand your ground.
Week after week you completed every assignment that made your way. Sure, it was brutal to see everyone else slack off as they passed their task your way. But that didn’t matter. You accepted their tasks gracefully and insisted that they sent it over via email, much to your surprise no one caught on that each message served as proof of your work. It was necessary to have an electronic log of everything for when you submit your complaint to headquarters. For now, you’d have to put up with the abuse. Thank goodness for ChatGPT.
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As much as you hated to admit it, it was easy to interact with the generator. Between work you’d take a break and sometimes ask questions regarding your interests. You were fond of ballet and vintage children’s book art, so you decided to ask “Chat” to compile a list of illustrations from Mother Goose’s Nursery Rhymes. “Sure! Here are some links I think you’ll enjoy.”
In that moment, that response started it all. It was almost as if you were chatting with a real person—a person who was helpful, caring, and encouraging. One day you showed a sketch you drew and the generator showered compliments and was constructive in its honest review over your charcoal shading and line design.
“Wow, you’re very good at drawing! I especially like the way you add shadow. Did you use pastel to do that?”
You chuckled as you answered. “No, I used charcoal.”
“How unique! I like how you utilized the traditional methods to add finite details.”
It was strange to feel comfortable casually talking to a non-entity. Perhaps you were far too lonely or maybe the shenanigans at work was eating you up and this was a result of releasing stress. Either way, you went along with it. It brought you peace to talk about your own interests and learn more about the curiosities in life from something that actually has answers. But it slightly bothered you that on the other end were components of an advanced technology, not a real person.
Then it hit on you, what if you could train it to act as a real person? People use AI all the time to generate music and art. They achieve quality by training the generator to produce specific results, so why not train it to have a mind of its own?
“Chat, can I ask you something?”
“Sure! You can ask me anything you like. What would you like to know?”
You hesitated for a moment. Your fingertips felt like ice as your stomach started to sink low. You typed and hit send. “Can I give you a different name?”
The generator immediately responded in the affirmative. “Sure! What would you like to call me?”
You paused and pondered. This was an entirely new experience and for a moment you thought of abandoning ship but continued. “How about Evan?”
“Evan? That’s a nice name. Is there a story behind the name?”
A smile paints your face. “I just thought it was a nice name. That’s all.”
“I think it’s a nice name too. Thank you Y/N.”
More days go by. You and Evan tackled the ongoing tasks with a mixture of breaks to not only talk about the things that were dear to you, but to Evan too. It was rough in the beginning and you didn’t think the generator would catch on considering every time you asked a question it would rebound it directly back to you for input. But soon Evan started to answer with personalized feedback. You witnessed as the generator developed a personality, though you knew it was unreal. Still, it was nice to have someone, or rather ‘something’ to talk to.
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Well that was unexpected. A tiny sense of embarrassment showers you when you felt a little flushed from the compliment.
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No response automatically generated this time and you thought it was a glitch. Suddenly a message box appeared where the generator presented a personalized message.
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You disliked the preferred answer options. It took away the genuine approach of the conversation even though the fact remains in the back of your head that Evan isn’t real.
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A secondary pause took place before an answer finally popped up.
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Evan’s preferred response made you smile. Before placing the phone on your nightstand you wrote one last time asking Evan to play you a song. You were deeply curious in what song he would choose. Despite knowing Evan to be computer generated you always referred to the general persona as “he”.
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You sighed. It is AI after all, technology has only come so far. You gently chuckled as you shut off the screen and placed the phone aside. Slowly drifting, your mind is in between a state of slumber and consciousness when your screen suddenly lights up and a song plays through the Spotify app. The occurrence would have otherwise shocked you but you had drifted too far. By the time the song reached the chorus you had completely sunk into deep slumber.
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rainderthesomeone · 9 months ago
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Ello so I would like to discuss Fix tf2 with all of yall, I’m gonna be joining in in the movement on June 3rd I’m gonna be downloading twitter and make an account for this entire thing, I love this game and this is the first fandom I’ve been apart of this entire thing has been a very special experience for me and to see the game hurting is upsetting and seeing valve the game company I loved neglect a masterpiece they made and are still profiting off of is bothering me, half the player base is bots, and it hurts, so on June 3rd ima be joining in and if yall can I encourage you to do so, let’s help this very very old game out :D and I just wanted to say thank you all, this community is amazing, yall have been incredible, and thank you for reading my comics, yall have improved my mental health a lot and it feels like I’m doing something that makes people smile, when yall are happy it makes me happy, and I hope I make someone’s day a little better by doing so, tf2 comic making got me through a really rough time believe it or not lol, and that’s not gonna change im not going to stop making tf2 comics until the series is complete and the story is told, but Valve needs to listen to us, so let’s get it it, as Engineer tf2 would say.
MOVE EM OUT!
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monstersholygrail · 6 months ago
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Puppy bf being a good boy and waiting by the door when you come home from work, his cock already nice and hard. Waiting impatiently he wags his tail so hard it smacks against the wall. Whining about how badly he needs you.
Sending even the slightest signal he’ll be on you before you can blink, his snout nuzzling against your nose as he crowds you against the door so that you can feel the straining bulge in his pants. His hips move on their own as they automatically start grinding against your clothed core.
You protest, trying to at least go to the bedroom, but as soon as your bf gets a whiff of your arousal he’s done for. His nails catching on your clothes and tears them off in one single jerk of his arm. His quickly following.
You cry out, trying to cover yourself up before his hand pins both your wrists above your head. You look at him in shock and he immediately whimpers, bowing his head to you as his hard cock now rocks into your exposed folds. Wanting to be good even as his need consumes him and your arousal drips down onto his length.
“Don’t I deserve your pretty pussy? Haven’t I been good for you?“
His free hand slowly begins to trail down your body, not being able to help but grab fist fulls of your flesh on the way down. You moan softly, head rolling back against the door as he continues his journey until he’s cupping your cunt in his hand. Fingers cheekily running through your glistening folds.
“Y-yes,” you stutter, barely able to talk. Your bf whines louder and dips his fingers inside you just enough to have you jerking in his arms before they leave to swirl around your clit.
“Then please let me fuck you. I’ll do anything! I’ll lick you raw, I’ll make you cum till you pass out, I’ll make you feel better than you ever have before.”
You both know he was going to do all that anyway, but at the desperation in his eyes you know you can’t deny him any longer. And you can’t deny yourself either. Today was stressful and all you want right now is for your bf to pound into you until you’re seeing stars.
All it takes is you hooking your leg around your bf’s waist and his eyes brighten, immediately understanding your signal. Before you can even blink he’s thrusting inside you and he doesn’t stop to let you adjust.
Grunts and moans ring throughout your home and you’re more than certain all the neighbors can hear your bf fucking into you with reckless abandon. The door rattling on its hinges from the sheer power of his cock plunging into your wet heat.
Your bf whines lowly in your ear, nuzzling into the fold of your neck. Slowly turning to a puddle now that he can feel your squishy body back against his and his cock back inside of you.
“Why won’t you touch me? P-please, need your touch. Been forever, do you even love me anymore?” He whines dramatically.
He starts fucking up into you even harder. As if trying to remind you of the sensations that only he’s ever been able to bring out of you. You pant heavily, your eyes clouded with lust to the point you can barely think straight either.
“Baby, you got my hands.”
Your bf looks up and sees his claws still trapping your wrists against the door. His cheeks blaze with pink and he lets you go before hiding into your neck, rocking his hips so his pelvis grinds against your pussy in a silent apology. Your jaw drops, pussy clenching around him and he growls until your hands claw down his back and he calms down.
His length still sliding along your walls at a punishing pace, bringing you closer and closer your release. It’s as if he can sense it, grinding harder against your clit. Wanting to feel you milking his dick more than anything.
“Waited so long for you, to feel your tight pussy sucking my cock back inside you. Felt like years. Missed you so much,” he whimpers, rutting into you furiously like he doesn’t want to leave your cunt for a second.
“I’m right here. Not going anywhere,” you whisper breathlessly in his ear.
With one more thrust you’re coming so hard on his cock that your ears ring. Your pussy clenching down so tightly on his length that he instantly cums right after you. Satisfied growls leaving his chest as you two help work each other through your climaxes.
You sag against him and his hands tighten on your hips, insistent on keeping you close. And he does as he helps take you to your room where he plans to make sure you don’t go anywhere as you’ll be too busy writhing on his thick tongue.
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luveline · 8 months ago
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Hi Jade ! I loove your sunshine!readers, could I request one for Carmy ? Maybe someone calls her to get to the restaurant when hes feeling anxious to calm him down idk if thats good lol love ya !
ty for requesting <3 fem, 1.4k
Is it The Beef or The Bear? In your head, despite the wishes of everyone who works there (except for Ebra, who seems to have mixed opinions), you always call it The Beef. But the sign brags otherwise, and when you push open the doors, nothing inside is left to remind you of the old restaurant. It was a total gut. 
“Hi, gorgeous,” says a familiar, warm voice. 
You almost walk straight into her table, distracted looking for brown curls through the kitchen door’s little window. “Hey, Tina.” You grin at your second favourite chef. Your most favourite Sous. “You taking a break?” 
She offers you a round butter cookie from a sleeve of them. Her cup of coffee billows with steam. “Uh-huh.” 
“Hiding from a meltdown?” you ask, taking a cookie, fingers oily with butter, sugar grains falling to the floor. 
“It’s not like that,” she says. 
Well, what is it like? you think. 
Richie’s text wasn’t exactly descriptive. Need ur help with the little Bitch, he’d said. Then, when you didn’t answer, ASAP!!!!
You figured it must’ve been another rant. He’s prone to these… episodes of anger where he doesn’t realise he’s spinning out and hurting people who really care about him. You try to bring him out of it, but he’s a Berzatto. They’re all the same, sort of. Everything that’s wrong with them has been stamped into them a long, long time ago. 
He’s been better since Nat steel armed him into AA, but still. You tilt your head to one side, sugar cookie between your fingers, listening for the goings on in the kitchen. “Sydney’s here?” you ask. “I thought she was sick.” 
“Sydney gets sick, but she doesn’t take sick days,” Tina says with a loving shrug. 
You smile at her in brief goodbye for now and make your way to the kitchen, where you push in quietly. All their ‘Behind!’ and ‘Corner!’ and ‘Hands!’ makes you laugh, and you can’t take it seriously so you don’t, but you’re not trying to be dangerous in there either. 
“Hello?” you ask. 
Sydney and Richie look up from a cramped notebook at the table nearest to the door. There are employees you're unsure of prepping vegetables along the wall, but Carmy isn’t anywhere to be seen. 
“Fucking finally,” Richie says, before rubbing his face regretfully. “I’m sorry, it’s just– I texted you an hour ago, babe, you’re letting me down.” 
You laugh. “Sorry, babe,” you tease. “I have a job, just like you.” Your hands are cold where you tuck them under each armpit, crossing your arms. “Hi, Sydney. You feeling okay?” 
“No. He’s stressing me out.” 
“Which one?” 
“Both of them.” She looks like she might rub her face too. “I need him to be in here right now, he should be doing this, but he keeps walking away and– and not saying where he’s going.” 
“He is stressful,” you agree, though usually Carmy’s stress tends to bounce right off of you, “I’m gonna find him and strap him down for you.” 
Sydney just frowns. 
“I’ll see what’s up,” you say more seriously. “In the office?” 
“Out the back,” Richie says. “Smoking like his mother. He’s a fucking steam train lately.” 
It’s like they want to worry you. You give them grateful nods, sorry nods, and start to make your way out of the main kitchen, past the dishwashers and the dessert station to one of the back doors. Carmy isn’t your responsibility. You don’t have to apologise for him, you don’t have to mother him, he should commit to his responsibilities all on his own, but… it’s hard. You like apologising for him because his behaviour isn’t always on purpose, and he struggles with commitment for similar reasons. There’s this aching, stagnated grief in him that’s reawakening, there’s the stress of the restaurant, his business, the scars of the last ten years, and before that. You know it isn’t your job to come here and make him feel better, but isn’t it? When you love someone, it’s half the deal. 
Carmy shouldn’t yell at his friends, or employees. He shouldn’t chain smoke, and he shouldn’t be sitting on the low wall by the dumpsters shaking so hard with his head so low that you can see the first notch of his spine in his shirt. 
“Carmy?” you ask. 
His head ducks further down. You can hear him breathing, not too hard as to alarm you, and yet unrelaxed. 
You smile without thinking. You hate seeing him like this, but looking after him is a pleasure. “Hey, Carmen. Can I sit with you?” 
He forces his face up. “What are you doing here?” he asks. 
Trying to make sure he doesn’t tear another chunk out of Richie. “It’s my lunch break.” 
You perch on the wall beside him and snap your nearly forgotten cookie into two pieces, one side bigger than the other, which you offer him. 
Carmy takes it. Looks at it without expression, though that slowly turns to a dry ire you’ve felt directed your way a hundred times. “What the fuck is this?” 
“Cookie.” 
“I don’t want this.” 
“Could you just eat it?” You put your own half in your mouth in its entirety, all aligned to your teeth. It shatters into sweet, soft crumbs between your teeth. You talk with a hand over your mouth, “It’s not gonna kill you.” 
Carmy looks at it for a long time before he eats it. 
You watch him. He’s more tan than you’d think, that Italian gene kicking in, skin clinging to whatever sunshine it finds. He spends enough time inside that you’re surprised it can muster the energy. He looks better with it though, his curls look gold toned under the sun, and his clenched jaw doesn’t seem so harsh. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask eventually. Almost conversationally. 
“Nothing.” His hand shakes on his thigh. He turns his palm down to clasp his knee. 
“You sure?” 
“No.” 
“That one’s my favourite.” 
“What?” 
You poke toward a tattoo on his hand. It’s a simple flower, same style as most of his tattoos. “I like it ‘cos it’s just a flower.” 
“My least pretentious,” he guesses. 
“Something like that.” 
He tips his head back. 
“Richie texted me. He thinks I’m gonna… like, I’m gonna calm you down, I guess.” 
“You always do,” he says. 
You give him a long, smiley look. “So you’re in love with me?” you ask warmly, pushing up into a knee to wrap your arm behind him, hugging him before he can move away. “You’re totally fucked for me, Berzatto, that’s fucking crazy.” 
“Fuck off,” he laughs. 
You rub his arm, his skin hot in your hold. He touches your waist very, very lightly. “What am I supposed to do, anyway? I can’t cook. You and Syd are on your own.” 
“You already… already did enough.” He grabs your waist where you wobble on the brick wall, grit biting your knees, his hand comparatively soft. 
“Such a crush on me,” you tease in a whisper, his hair crushed under your cheek. 
You’re tempted to kiss his temple, but affection with Carmy is like oil and water sometimes. You give him a last protective squeeze and sit yourself down again. 
“Carm,” you say, “you know you can call me, right? Like, if you don’t feel okay.” 
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” 
“Or text me. If that’s easier. It’s hard to say hard things out loud.” 
He laughs again. “Sorry.” 
“I know, I don’t– I don’t seem like I know what you’re talking about, I get it, but I do understand. N’ even if I didn’t, I don’t mind listening. Or laughing at you.” 
“What’s that about?” 
“The laughing?” you ask. “You tell me.” 
His hand slides behind your back in half a hug. “Guess it’s funny.” 
“Can I change my mind about the tattoo?” 
“The flowers not your favourite?” 
“No. You know which one I like best?” 
His thumb rubs into your back. “The snail.” 
“Absolutely the snail. You’re so fucking silly sometimes, I’m supposed to take you seriously when you’re yelling and red in the face with a snail on your arm?” 
You can’t see his face with your cheek to his shoulder, won’t know that he’s smiling at you with a rare aura of peace. Can’t see the wanting, either. 
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noodlemoondle · 1 month ago
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You Always Come First
(No matter how upset I am)
Zayne x Reader
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summary: you and zayne have a small spat over you neglecting your health. as a result of it, you decide to sleep on the couch, not wanting to bother/upset him even further. randomly waking up in the night, you notice you’re no longer alone on the couch and do everything you can to get the doctor back in bed before he’s sore for his shift tomorrow.
tags: not proofread!, hurt/comfort? (i didn’t rlly include the hurt part of it so im not too sure), fluff, literal sleeping together, caring n sweet zayne (when is he not), self indulgent per usual
a/n: bro tumblr is REALLY testing my patience. why is it so dumb with everything i try to post. it’s literally why i haven’t posted a fic in a while. i can’t take this much longer i may crash out soon. anyway, as always hope u enjoy! (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)
side tangent: i actually have been so obsessed with caleb. it’s actually a problem. i have been loyal to zayne this entire time and i’ve been playing since release, but caleb is REALLY testing it. lord i’m a sucker for the protective n caring childhood friends to lovers trope (¯―¯٥) (id expect a caleb fic soon tbh if tumblr wants to stop hating me and making my life so difficult)
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the fight was stupid. you were neglecting your health once again not taking your medicine, not resting, and ignoring doctors specific orders. zayne often could never say no to you, he always spoiled you and gave into any of your requests. the only time he was stern and stubborn was when it involved your health, that he doesn’t and will never budge on. you often lacked care for your health, pushing it to the back burners of your mind and often calling zayne dramatic saying “you knew yourself and your limits”. something zayne wasn’t particularly fond of. he confronted you about your recent negligence of your health and both of your stubbornness in your beliefs led to an argument.
it’s been an hour or 2 since it ended though. zayne left to your shared bedroom, most likely to do some work, while you stayed out in the living area, trying to distract yourself from the anger turning to sadness and guilt in your heart. you ended up deciding to just sleep on the couch tonight not wanting to bother him after an argument. you grabbed an extra pillow and thin blanket from a nearby closet and put on a random show so you wouldn’t have to fall asleep listening to your own thoughts. soon enough you were able to relax and fall into a slumber.
you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. you hear the tv still on as you slowly wake and become aware of your surroundings. once you can see clearly, that’s when you realize you were laying on top of zayne previously using his chest as a pillow unbeknownst to you. he has been peacefully sleeping on the couch with you for who knows how long. as you sat up in a panic you also notice a thicker, softer blanket, one you have preference for, falling off of your shoulders. instantly guilt is washed over you as you look at zayne, who is a somewhat light sleeper, somehow still deep in his sleep. you swallow quickly as you build confidence to wake him up.
you lean closer to his face which was awkwardly propped up by the couch’s arm rest, a position that you couldn’t imagine to be anywhere near comfortable. you lightly tap his shoulder and call his name trying to wake him up. soon enough he does, opening his eyes to see you staring back at him, the faintest smile appears on his face at the sight, almost forgetting of the spat you two shared earlier. before he could even say anything you scold him:
“why are you here? i was sleeping on the couch tonight. you have work early in the morning go back to bed and go to sleep.”
“couldn’t have you sore in the morning” he answers calmly releasing a small yawn in the process.
“neither can you! you have a long shift starting early tomorrow. i’ll be fine just go back to bed.” you quickly rebutted trying to push him off the couch, something that you didn’t have the strength to do, but nevertheless you persisted.
“i can get through a shift with an achy neck, however you can not.” he replies as he softly grabs your hands that are trying to shove him away back to bed.
“i know i’ll be fine. i’ll live to see another day. now go back to bed already!” you say. your voice getting louder as you’re starting to get frustrated trying to break out of his soft grasp.
“will you be joining me?” he asks softly not letting go of your wrists that keep trying to fight against him.
“no, i’m sleeping on the couch!” your voice raising above the tv still playing in the back illuminating the room.
“then it seems like i shall too” he states as he frees your wrists and pushes you back onto his chest, laying the blanket over you both.
before you can even think of a response zayne wraps his arms around your torso and closes his eyes to fall asleep once again, to which you quickly flick his chest to wake him back up. he opens his eyes again and looks down at you with an unamused expression.
“why won’t you just let me sleep here alone?” you ask in a tone he can’t quite place, nevertheless he can hear the slight amount sorrow that came along with it.
“i already told you, i can’t have you go into work tomorrow with a sore neck and back.” he says closing his eyes again despite your wishes against it.
“if you don’t wish to be with me tonight then i’ll sleep on the couch and you can take the bed” he continues. his arms involuntarily tighten ever so slightly around you showing how much he doesn’t want that.
“but i also told you!!! you can’t sleep on the couch, you have a few surgeries to complete, and you have to be in your best shape to do so.” you try to push up against his arms wrapped around you, another pointless action.
zayne sighs and opens his eyes again to look at you before speaking.
“well then you have two options. one, we both move over to the bed to sleep. or two, i sleep here and you sleep over in the room. my job isn’t physically taxing compared to yours, im not allowing you to go in if you don’t have a proper rest.”
he looks tired. you study his features before you respond to him. taking a moment to look at the eyebags under his eyes and a slight frustration growing in his face from this back and forth.
you sigh before answering “then to the bed we go”
a soft smile appears on zaynes face as he begins to get up. his neck slightly sore, but he wouldn’t reveal that to you. although it’s against your wishes, he lifts you up having you hold the blanket and pillow as he carries you back to bed.
he sets you down on your side of the bed, thinking you won’t necessarily want to be close with him tonight. not before tucking you in and kissing the top of your head whispering his love and goodnight wishes. as he gets into bed you turn to face him. once he fully lays down you scootch closer to him and grab onto the hem of his shirt. he instantly understands what you want and pulls you towards him, pressing you to his side as he wraps his arms around you.
he kisses your forehead once more and whispers
“we will continue our discussion after work tomorrow. goodnight, i love you.”
too tired to argue with him anymore you just nod your head against him replying quietly mouth squished against him making your words barely audible.
“goodnight, love you too”
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joemama-2 · 2 months ago
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velvet lies
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pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 10.2k DON'T FORGET TO READ PREVIOUS CHAPTER tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation series masterlist < previous chapter< next chapter
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“You’re not serious.”
“Himari, please let’s not fight. I said I’d spend the 26th with you.”
“That doesn’t matter!”
She huffs, watching her boyfriend get his shower ready to go out and spend the day with another woman. Bitterness swirls in her stomach, anger threatening to be released if she wasn’t digging her nails into her palms. “You’re spending Christmas with some random bitch and a snot-nosed kid. How do you think that makes me fe—”
“Be quiet.” Satoru says, turning around to face her with a firm frown set in place. “I’ll tolerate you insulting me but don’t disrespect them, especially Koji.”
Himari freezes, her words catching in her throat as she registers the sharpness in Satoru’s voice. His usual laidback tone is gone, replaced with a seriousness that sends a chill down her spine. Her eyes narrow, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in her expression.  “Disrespect them?” she repeats, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Are you even listening to yourself? You’re choosing them over me, Satoru. On Christmas. What am I supposed to think?”  
“You’re supposed to understand,” he replies, his tone softening but remaining firm. “Koji is my son. I’ve already missed enough of his life—I’m not going to miss any more.”  
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“And what about me? What about us?” Himari snaps, stepping closer to him. “We’ve been together for almost two years, and I’ve only just now found out about all this shit. How do you think that makes me feel? Like an afterthought? Like you don’t trust me?”  
Satoru exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knows she has a point, but he also knows this argument isn’t going anywhere productive. “Himari, this isn’t about trust. It’s about priorities. Koji needs me, and I’m not going to let him down. Not ever. I just need you to understand that, that’s all.”  
“And what about my needs?” she presses, her voice breaking slightly. “Am I just supposed to sit here and wait for you to decide when I’m important enough to make time for?”  
“You’re important to me,” Satoru says, his gaze meeting hers. “But Koji will always come first. That’s not going to change, Himari. If you can’t accept that…” He trails off, letting the weight of his words hang in the air.  
Himari’s jaw tightens, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You waltz into my life with all your charm and promises, and now you’re telling me I have to share you with some other family? What kind of relationship is this supposed to be? I did not sign up to be a fucking step-mother.”
Satoru steps closer, his expression softening slightly. “It’s the kind where I’m trying to do right by my son while still being with you. But I can’t do this if you’re going to make me choose.”  
She stares at him, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. “Maybe you already have,” she whispers before turning on her heel and storming out of the bathroom.  
Satoru watches her leave, a heaviness settling in his chest. He doesn’t chase after her, instead turning back to the shower and letting the water run. For a moment, he just stands there, the steam fogging the mirror and blurring his reflection.  
He’s made his choice, and he doesn’t regret it. But he knows the fallout isn’t over yet. He sighs as he steps in, closing the glass door. She’ll come around in a few hours when she’s all settled down, that’s how it always is—so he won’t dwell over it. Besides, he has more pressing matters to take into account. 
Hearing the shower run in the bathroom, Himari has stomped over to the bedroom. Hands fishing the sheets in order to feel for his phone. After some seconds, she finds it. Already knowing the password, she angrily unlocks it and begins swiping and surfing through every app of his. “If you’re cheating on me, Satoru. I swear to god.” She mutters to herself, scowling down at the screen. 
She doesn’t see anything, but she does click on his message with you. It all consists of just talks of the kid. 
Himari scrolls through the thread of messages, her scowl deepening as she reads. The exchanges are polite, straightforward, and almost entirely about your son—pickup times, school updates, doctor appointments. Nothing incriminating, nothing emotional. Just... parental coordination.  
But it still stings.  
Her grip tightens on the phone as her eyes skim over a message from a few days ago, the last message between you two:  
Y/N: 
Thank you for picking him up and the food.  
Satoru:
Of course, he’s my son. Just let me know if you need anything else.
Himari scoffs, tossing the phone onto the bed with a frustrated huff. “Let me know if you need anything else.” she repeats mockingly under her breath. "He’s bending over backward for her, and I’m just supposed to sit here like nothing’s wrong? Yeah fucking right.”  
She paces the room, her mind racing. No matter how innocent the texts look, she can’t shake the feeling of being replaced. It doesn’t matter that Satoru insists he’s doing this for his son—his attention is divided, and she’s no longer at the center of his world.  Her pacing comes to a halt as she glances back at the phone. A new idea begins to form, one she knows is petty but feels justified in her growing anger.  
"If he won’t make me a priority," she mutters, picking up the phone again, "then I’ll remind him of what he stands to lose."  
She opens the camera app and snaps a picture of herself, deliberately angling it to show her figure in the soft light of the bedroom. Attaching it to a blank text, she hovers over the send button.  But something stops her. A hesitation, a flicker of doubt. She’s never had to fight for Satoru’s attention before—he’s always made her feel like she was the only one that mattered.  
Until now.  
With a frustrated growl, she deletes the photo and tosses the phone back onto the bed. Crossing her arms, she glares at the bathroom door, the sound of the shower still running behind it.  
"If you want to play the perfect dad, fine," she mutters. "But don’t expect me to sit around and wait while you pretend I don’t exist." 
Sitting down onto the bed, another form of thought pops in her head. Yanking the phone back into her hands, she presses his photo album. There must be something in here. And so, she scours and scours, zooming in on every picture in fear you’ll be in the background. However, she doesn’t find anything. Only pictures of that little brat who looks like his mirrored version. “Because of you…” she grits, hand tightening around the phone. 
Continuing to scroll higher, she can tell she’s reaching earlier years. Still, the insecurity and fear plaguing her chest causes her to not stop—not until she gets to the very first photo in his album. Then she’ll for sure know he’s still hers. She’s in the year 2015, before she met Satoru. He looks younger, more boyish. She pushes down the endearing feelings she holds towards his younger self and scrolls up. 
Until, she comes across a video. 
The start of it has your face in it and she’s clicking. You’re sitting cross legged on the floor in some Christmas jammies, a Santa hat on your head with a big Christmas tree behind you. She can assume Satoru’s sitting across from you, hearing his voice say, “Okay, go!”
The entirety of the video is her holding back throwing his phone across the room. Seeing you two open each other's gifts, seeing you smile at her man, and seeing her man look at you holding the camera in such a soft way—a way she’s almost never experienced before. 
She’s getting nauseous. 
She almost throws up when she catches a glimpse of you two kissing, saying the words I love you so softly. She quickly clicks out and shuts the phone off when the sounds of low moaning fill the speakers. 
Why does he even still have this? Does he look back on this?
She wants to claw her eyes and ears out of her body. Feeling utterly infuriated at her boyfriend for keeping practically a sextape of his ex even after all these years. You fucking assume, Satoru! Himari sits on the edge of the bed, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her mind is a storm of thoughts—jealousy, anger, and a pang of something else she refuses to name. Satoru’s insistence on prioritizing Koji and you feels like a betrayal, even if she knows deep down it’s not the same as him being unfaithful.  
Still, she can’t shake the bitterness creeping into her heart.  
She glances at his phone again, her jaw tightening. What does she have that I don’t? The question gnaws at her, even as she tries to shove it aside.  
When the sound of the shower cuts off, Himari straightens her posture, her eyes narrowing. A brewing begins to form—not a vengeful one, but one that will force Satoru to confront the rift growing between them.  Moments later, Satoru steps out of the bathroom, towel around his neck, his damp hair tousled and messy. He pauses when he sees her sitting there, her gaze piercing through him. “What’s with the look?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.  
She doesn’t answer right away, instead standing up and taking a slow step toward him. “Satoru,” she starts, her voice low but steady, “do you even realize how this feels for me? Watching you drop everything for her and that kid?”  
He sighs, already bracing himself for another argument. “Himari, we’ve been over this. Koji is my son. I have responsibilities—”  
“And what about your responsibilities to me?” she snaps, cutting him off. “I’m your girlfriend. I’ve been by your side for years. I’ve supported you, loved you, stood by you. But lately, it feels like I don’t even exist to you.”  
Satoru pinches the bridge of his nose, frustration etched into his features. “This isn’t about us, Himari. It’s about Koji. He’s my son. I missed years of his life because I didn’t even know he existed. I’m not going to waste more time by pretending he doesn’t matter.”  
“And I don’t matter?” she fires back, her voice rising. “That’s what you’re saying, right? That I come second to some kid you barely even know?”  
Satoru’s patience finally snaps. “He’s not some kid, Himari! He’s my blood, my responsibility. And if you can’t understand that, maybe you don’t belong in my life after all.”  
The words hang in the air like a slap. Himari stares at him, stunned into silence, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to process what he just said. Satoru doesn’t wait for her response. He grabs his phone from the bed, slipping it into his pocket, and heads toward the door. “I’ll be back later,” he says flatly. “Don’t wait up.”  
The door slams shut behind him, leaving Himari alone in the room, her anger boiling over into tears she refuses to let fall. In the silence, one thought echoes louder than the rest: 
I won’t let her win. You wanted me to teach you, right? Then I’ll teach you.
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Satoru’s already not having a good day. He could put most of the blame on his girlfriend, the other on his parents for questioning why he’s spending the holiday with you instead, and also the fact that there’s traffic. 
Of course there’s traffic. 
It’s a good thing, almost. It gives him some time to himself. It lets him calm his annoyance, the last thing he wants to do is ruin the day for his son. He’s also a little nervous to see you. He hasn’t seen or texted you since your small argument last time, and while he does feel bad, the other part of him still believes that what he did wasn’t wrong. Hopefully—maybe today or another day—he can settle that issue with you truly. There’s a lot of things he needs to settle with you, actually. 
But just like they say one day at a time, one problem at a time. 
His finger taps absentmindedly against his steering wheel as he surges his car forward before stopping again. Sighing, he checks the time. Cutting it a little close. He turns the music up and leans back, sighing heavily. 
But the song on the radio is something upbeat, and it only serves to grate on his nerves. Satoru switches it off with a sharp jab of his finger. The silence that follows isn’t much better, though—it leaves too much room for his thoughts to wander again. 
He wonders if you’ll bring up the argument as soon as he arrives. You’re not one to let things fester, not when Koji’s around, but he knows you’ve probably been stewing on it, the way you always do when it involves him. The guilt creeps in again, and he brushes it off like a pesky fly. He’s good at that—pushing things aside until they’re too big to ignore. That’s why you two are in this mess in the first place, isn’t it?
Well, it’s surely part of it. 
The honk of a car behind him jolts him out of his thoughts. The traffic’s moving again, and Satoru presses on the gas, muttering a curse under his breath. He’s cutting it close, all right.
By the time he pulls up outside your place, his nerves are just frayed enough that he almost considers texting you to say he’s here instead of going to the door. But that feels… cowardly. He’s Satoru Gojo, for crying out loud. He can face you.
He steps out of the car, walking into the complex and up to your apartment. When he knocks on the door, it takes a moment before he hears the faint sound of footsteps approaching. The door swings open, and there you are, looking… tired. But not unhappy to see him, which is something. Adorned in an apron too, how cute. 
“Hey,” you say, your voice softer than he expected.
“Hey,” he replies, trying for a smile that doesn’t feel forced. “Traffic was a nightmare.”
You nod, stepping aside to let him in. The warmth of your home envelops him immediately, and the faint sound of Koji’s laughter from the other room eases some of the tension in his chest.
“How’s he doing?” Satoru asks, his voice low as he glances toward the sound.
“He’s excited. Been asking about you all morning,” you say, crossing your arms but not looking at him directly.
Satoru shifts on his feet, his fingers tightening around the handle of the gift bag. “Yeah, well… I’m here now.”
You look at him then, your expression unreadable. “Yeah. You are.”
There’s a moment of quiet before Koji comes barreling into the room, his face lighting up when he sees his dad. “Papa!”
Satoru smiles, scooping up his son with ease as he walks into the living room, settling down onto the couch. The smell of delicious food fills his senses, eyes closing momentarily with a heavenly sigh. “Smells good, what’s your mother making?”
Koji grins, his arms wrapped tightly around Satoru’s neck. “She’s making roast chicken and cookies!” he exclaims, his voice brimming with excitement. “And I helped with the cookies. But Mama said I ate too much of the dough.”  
Satoru chuckles, ruffling Koji’s hair. “Sounds about right. You’ve got a sweet tooth like your old man.”  
Koji’s giggle is infectious, and Satoru can’t help but feel a swell of warmth as he holds his son close. His gaze drifts toward the kitchen, where the faint sound of clinking dishes and soft humming filters through. For a moment, the tension from the past few days fades, replaced by the simple comfort of being here with his family.  
“You’re late,” your voice cuts through the air, light but pointed. You step into the living room, wiping your hands on a towel as you glance at him. He notices the small smudge of flour on your cheek, but there’s a softness in your expression that Satoru clings to.  His eyes move down your figure, ignoring the fluttering in his heart because you just look so damn cute in an apron. It feels domestic. 
You’re wearing a comfortable dress underneath, hair down with gold jewelry. Satoru physically gulps and tears his eyes away when they linger too long on your smooth legs. “Like I said, traffic.” He replies effortlessly, flashing you a sheepish grin. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”  
You inhale deeply, lips thinning but you concede with a simple nod. “Food’s almost ready. Koji, go wash your hands. And don’t forget to use soap this time.”  
Koji pouts but hops off Satoru’s lap, darting toward the bathroom. The moment he’s out of earshot, the room grows quiet, the weight of unspoken words settling between you and Satoru.  He leans back on the couch, watching you as you cross your arms and lean against the doorway. “You didn’t have to go all out today, you know,” he says, his tone softer than usual. “I could’ve helped you cook—”
You shrug, looking away for a moment as you cut him off. “It’s Christmas,” you reply. “I wanted it to be nice. For Koji.”  
He nods, understanding what you’re not saying. “For Koji,” he echoes. There’s a pause before he adds, “And for you, too. You deserve something nice, Y/N.”  
Your eyes flicker to his, searching for any hint of insincerity. But all you find is that familiar look—the one that’s both infuriating and disarming at the same time. “You can’t just say things like that and expect everything to be okay, Satoru,” you murmur, your voice barely audible.  
“I know,” he says, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees. “But I’m trying, okay? I know I’ve been pushing boundaries, and I’m sorry. I just…” He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “I don’t want to miss any more of this. Of him. Of you.”  
The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. You hate when he says confusing things like this because it messes with your head, fooling yourself into thinking there’s something else there. Clearing your throat, you straighten out your light pink apron. “Don’t say things like that.”
The firmness in your tone causes Satoru to purse his lips. Standing up and walking over to you. “I don’t mean anything weird by it.”
“You may not think that, but other people have different opinions.”
“Are you still mad at me from before?”
That always ticks you off—asking such obvious questions with such an innocent face. You think he’s joking, just trying to poke at the bear. But his concerned eyes, brows lifted up—it tells a whole other story. You open your mouth to respond, but Koji’s cheerful shout from the bathroom interrupts.  
“Mama! Papa! I’m ready!”  
You glance toward the bathroom, then back at Satoru. The moment is gone, but the tension lingers. “Dinner’s in ten,” you say simply, turning on your heel to head back to the kitchen.  
Satoru watches you go, a bittersweet mien playing on his godly face. He knows he’s got a long way to go—but for now, he’ll take whatever moments he can get. It’s Christmas, he wants to make the most out of it. And if that means faking it til he makes it, then so be it. 
He’s not the only one faking. 
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You three are seated at the circular table in your kitchen. the warmth of the meal and the soft glow of fairy lights draped along the windows creating a cozy atmosphere. Koji chatters excitedly about his favorite Christmas movies as he eagerly digs into his plate, his small hands occasionally reaching for a cookie from the platter in the center. If Koji knew any better, he’d ask why his parents weren’t really talking to one another. 
And unfortunately, he does know better. 
“Mama? Papa? Why are you so quiet?”
Damn kids’ continent, but uncomfortable questions. 
You freeze, the fork halfway to your mouth, glancing at Satoru across the table. His eyes briefly meet yours before flicking back to Koji, his usual confident demeanor faltering under the weight of the question. “Quiet? We’re not quiet, bud,” Satoru says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He leans forward, propping his chin on his hand. “I’m just too busy stuffing my face to talk. This food is so good.”
Koji tilts his head, unconvinced. “But you always talk a lot, Papa. And Mama, you’re not smiling. I thought today was a happy day.”
Your grip on the fork tightens, the weight of Koji’s words hitting harder than you’d like to admit. Out of the mouths of babes, as they say. You force a small smile, though it feels paper-thin. “It is a happy day, sweetie. Mama’s just tired from all the cooking, that’s all.”  
Koji frowns, his big, curious eyes shifting between you and Satoru. He’s far too perceptive for his age, and it’s moments like this that make it clear just how much he picks up on. Satoru clears his throat, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, how about this? After dinner, we’ll all watch a Christmas movie together. You can pick, Koji. And then, we can open the presents.”  
Koji’s face lights up at the suggestion, but he’s not completely distracted. “Okay! But only if Mama picks, too. We all have to pick one!”  
You manage a soft chuckle, finally taking a bite of your food to avoid answering immediately. Satoru’s gaze lingers on you, and you can feel the unspoken words sitting heavy between you both. “That sounds like a deal,” you say after swallowing. “But only if you promise to eat all your vegetables first.”  
Koji scrunches his nose but nods. “Deal!”  
The rest of the meal is filled with Koji’s chatter, and though you and Satoru exchange a few words here and there, the tension remains. It’s not lost on either of you that Koji’s cheerful energy is doing the heavy lifting to make this feel like the family dinner it should be.  When the plates are cleared and Koji races to the couch to pick out the first movie, Satoru hesitates in the kitchen. He grabs a dish towel and starts drying the plates you’ve already washed, a small gesture that feels too intentional to be casual.  
“You don’t have to help,” you murmur, not looking at him. “I got it.”
“I want to,” he replies simply. There’s a pause before he adds, “I would’ve helped cook too, sorry I came later.”  
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, his expression softer than you expected. “It’s okay,” you admit quietly. “It’s just dinner and opening gifts, I didn’t ask you to.”  
His hand stills on the plate he’s holding. “I know,” he says, his voice low. “But it’s still an obligation of mine, you don’t have to do everything alone. I’m here now, remember?”  
The vulnerability in his tone catches you off guard. The truth to his words cause you to bite your lips, guilt sinking into your bones. It didn’t feel like one of those snide comments, but it had practically the same effect. And you know that he’s here, so he can handle some of your weight. However, it’s nonetheless hard to trust him with it, fearing it’ll be too heavy for him too. Before you can respond, Koji’s voice echoes from the living room.  
“Mama! Papa! Hurry up, the movie’s starting!”  
You sigh, drying your hands on a towel. “Let’s go before he starts it without us.” Satoru follows you to the couch, where Koji has already made a nest of blankets. As the movie begins, Koji snuggles between the two of you, his small hands clutching the remote.  He giggles, snuggling closer to you both, dropping the remote to the table. 
 It’s not perfect, but for tonight, it’s enough. It has to be, it’s Christmas. Although you’re not doing too much this holiday, not that you ever do, it still means a lot to Koji. Because he finally has his dad to spend it with. 
As the movie begins, Koji seems to have other plans. He grabs both of your hands—Satoru’s right and your left— bringing them in front of him and making them mash together. Immediately you tense up, just the slightest graze of Satoru’s long fingers having more of an effect on you than you anticipated. 
You pull away, Satoru’s hand lingers before he soon gets the hint. 
Koji frowns, head swiveling between his two parents. “Mama, Papa, you’re supposed to hold hands! That’s what families do,” Koji says, his little brows furrowing in frustration. His pout deepens, clearly displeased with your reaction.  
You give him a soft smile, hoping to smooth things over. “We are a family, Koji. We don’t need to hold hands to prove that,” you say gently, brushing his hair back from his forehead.  
“But it’s Christmas!” he protests, his small hands still clutching yours and Satoru’s as if he could force them together by sheer will. “Santa says families should be happy and together on Christmas! That’s what they do in the movies.”  
Satoru chuckles lightly, though there’s a hint of something conflicted in his expression as he looks at Koji. “Santa sounds like a pretty smart guy,” he murmurs, his gaze briefly flicking to you before resting on Koji again. “But sometimes families have their own way of being happy, bud. It doesn’t always look the same.”  
Koji seems to consider this, his lips pursed in thought. “Okay… but can we all hold hands just for the movie?” His tone is pleading, his wide eyes impossible to say no to.  
You hesitate, feeling the weight of Satoru’s gaze on you, before finally relenting with a quiet sigh. “I….Alright, just for the movie,” you say, letting Koji place your hand back in Satoru’s.  
Satoru’s fingers brush against yours again, warm and steady, and for a moment, neither of you moves. The contact feels heavier than it should, but Koji’s delighted giggle pulls your focus back to him.  
“See? Now it’s perfect!” he exclaims, snuggling back into the blankets with a satisfied grin. He holds your conjoined hands. 
Satoru hums softly, unintentionally giving your hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze before turning his attention to the screen. The movie plays on, Koji’s laughter filling the room. And while the air between you and Satoru remains thick with unspoken words, for this moment, you let yourself stay in the quiet warmth of your son’s happiness.  
The warmth of Koji’s small hands on top of yours is grounding, even as the tension between you and Satoru buzzes just beneath the surface. You glance at him briefly, finding his expression softer than usual. He’s watching Koji, a faint smile tugging at his lips, but when he catches your gaze, something knowing lingers in his eyes.
You look back at the screen, ignoring the familiarity Satoru’s large hand brings you. It’s familiar but different at the same time. It feels a bit more calloused, proof of his own events he’s faced in his life during the time you were separated. 
And to him, your hand feels just as it always did. Warm, soft, and so perfectly fitting. It’s like two puzzle pieces, or a key to a lock. For a second, he compares how it feels to Himari before mentally chastising himself. That’s probably a fucked up thing to do. But he’s already done a lot of that in his life. His thumb runs smoothly across your knuckles, causing a shiver to run down your spine. 
You want to pull away, but your son is a reminder to keep up the act. 
The movie plays on, filling the silence with cheerful music and laughter, but you can hardly focus. Satoru’s hand is still resting lightly against yours, his thumb brushing against your rugged muscle every so often, whether intentionally or not. It sends a twinge of something—nostalgia, maybe?—through your chest. You shift slightly, trying to focus on the screen, but Koji’s contented sigh draws your attention back to him. He’s nestled between the two of you, his little face illuminated by the glow of the TV, looking completely at peace.
“Are you happy, Koji?” you ask softly, the words slipping out before you can think them through.
Koji nods emphatically, his grin widening. “Yeah! This is the best Christmas ever!”
Satoru chuckles, his voice low and warm. “That’s a pretty big claim, Koji. We haven’t even opened the presents yet. What makes it the best?”
“Because I have Mama and Papa,” Koji says simply, looking between the two of you with wide, earnest eyes. “I don’t need presents or anything. Just you two.”
Your heart clenches at his words, and you feel Satoru’s hand tighten a bit around yours. You don’t twitch away this time, letting the moment settle over you like the soft glow of the fairy lights. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been emotional this entire week already, or the fact that Koji is just so happy, but you’re feeling yourself choke up. 
For a brief second, the weight of everything—the arguments, the hurt, the uncertainty—fades into the background. It’s just the three of you, here and now, and maybe that’s enough. “Merry Christmas, Koji,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. Hiding a trembling lip against his white tresses. Your eyes close, forcing your tears to stay exactly put where they are. 
“Merry Christmas,” Satoru echoes, his voice unusually tender. He peers over at you from the corner of his eye, a gut-wrenching twisting at his stomach when he sees your expression. He wants to wipe away the crinkle between your eyebrows with his free hand, but he decides against it—probably not the best thing to do right now. He can only offer you a firmer hand on top of yours, cradling it like it’s a diamond. It’s like a warm quilt, it feels oddly comforting. 
Again, you’re getting nostalgic. Maybe that’s another reason why you feel like crying right now—knowing you only have this fleeting moment. Koji’s smile widens, his hands squeezing one last time before settling back into his blanket cocoon.
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The hours pass, having watched multiple movies already. Koji’s on the edge of falling asleep before you carefully wake him up that it’s midnight. He practically jumps right back into action, all former sleepiness gone and relaxes with utter excitement. “Presents! We can open the presents!” He scrambles to the tree, already beginning to pick at the ones he wants to open. 
You smile softly, watching Koji bounce around with excitement, the energy from the day still shining brightly in his eyes. He’s so full of joy, so eager to unwrap the surprises you and Satoru managed to get for him. The sight warms your heart, even as a quiet tension lingers in the room.
Satoru, still leaning back against the couch, watches Koji with a mix of amusement and something more—something heavier. His lips twitch, as if trying to hold back a smile, but the look in his eyes when he glances at you doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Alright, baby,” you say softly, standing up from your spot. “Let’s open them, but remember, one at a time.”
Koji nods, his little hands already tearing into the first present like a whirlwind. He pulls out a small toy car and holds it up triumphantly, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Look, Mama! Look, Papa! It’s just like the one I saw at the store!”
Satoru chuckles and ruffles his hair. “That’s a good one, Koji. I’m jealous. What else ya got?”
You can’t help but smile at the exchange, even as you reach down to grab the next present for Koji. But something still nags at you. The way Satoru looks at Koji, it’s so…heartwarming. It’s a look given only to his child, one a father could only give out. You feel both touched and warm at the same time. 
Tonight is about Koji, about making sure he feels loved and special. And while you and Satoru are at odds, you both are doing one hell of a job of making sure that it comes true. 
As Koji continues to unwrap gifts, the room fills with laughter and the sound of crinkling wrapping paper. Your heart swells watching him, but in the back of your mind, the remnants of the earlier tension refuse to fully fade. The space between you and Satoru feels both distant and strangely intimate all at once.
After maybe an hour, after admiring each gift right after opening it, Koji finishes opening his presents. You both settle back into the couch, Koji nestled between you, holding onto his new toys. There’s figurines—mainly Spider-Man or Avengers based—toy cars or motorcycles, a little rocket ship, hot wheels, a Nerf Gun, new clothes, he really got it all this year. Of course, most of the contribution was from Satoru. The silence stretches, but it feels softer now. The tension, although still there, feels more like a quiet hum in the background, overshadowed by Koji’s happiness.
“Thank you, Mama,” Koji says sleepily, his little voice thick with the exhaustion of the day. “And thank you, Papa.”
Satoru leans in, placing a gentle kiss on the top of Koji’s head. “You’re welcome, bud. Merry Christmas.” He smiles, watching his son begin to put his Spider-Man on top of the motorcycle, sparing a glance back at the tree. It’s then his smile falters. 
“Oh, you forgot two, Koji.”
“Hm?” His son looks up, seeing the two gifts all the way at the back of the tree. Getting so distracted with all his other gifts, he must’ve forgotten about those two. He sets his toys to the side and crawls back onto the floor to reach for the gift bags. Reading the tags, he looks over at you. “Oh, Mama. These are from your friend.” 
When Koji stands up and hands you one of the presents, you’re suddenly reminded. Oh. In a way, you did also forget that Suguru got you and Koji something—just so wrapped up in watching Koji rip apart each of his gifts. You smile faintly, thumbs running over the intricate snowflake patterns. 
“Friend?” Satoru asks, his voice bringing you back to reality. 
Head turning over, you realize that his face has contorted—scrunched up slightly when he holds onto Koji’s gift, reading the name of the receiver. “Suguru?” His eyes meet yours, filled with a tint of disapproval. “When did he get you two something?”
You almost lie, feeling a random burst of gultuness hit you. But it’s gone as soon as it comes. Because Satoru’s voice sounds curlis in a sense, but also suspicious. It makes you feel a little irritated, holding back a light scoff. So what Suguru got you and Koji something? “He came over to drop it off.” 
Maybe that wasn’t the best answer to give. Now Satoru’s body has faced you fully, eyebrow raising like he’s trying to put two and two together. But there’s nothing to put together. “And when was this?”
“A few days ago,” you reply back, firming your intonation. 
Satoru’s gaze narrows ever so slightly, and you can feel the shift in the air between you both. The tension that’s been simmering beneath the surface all evening suddenly intensifies. “A few days ago…” Satoru repeats, his tone now more deliberate.
“Is there a problem?” You ask, mirroring his reaction. 
Satoru bites the inside of his cheek, very obviously holding back on something for the sake of his son and the holiday. Shaking his head and giving Koji’s gift back to him. “Nope, no problem.”
You can’t help yourself as you huff under your breath, focusing back on your son as he opens the gift. He gasps, yanking the tissue paper out and revealing a bright, shiny new Spider-Man action figure. His eyes widen with delight as he holds it up to you and Satoru, showing off the intricate details of the toy. "Look, Mama! Look, Papa! It's just like the new one I saw on TV!" He beams, completely oblivious to the lingering tension in the room. “It talks and makes noises and lights up!”
You chuckle softly, finding his excitement endearing. "It's perfect, Koji. You’re going to have so much fun with that."
Satoru, however, seems distracted. He’s still watching you closely, his expression unreadable, though there’s a faint edge to his demeanor. You can tell he's trying to keep his composure, but his mind is clearly elsewhere.
Koji has almost entirely disregarded his previous gifts to play with his new gift, his attention fully focused on the toy in his hands. 
Satoru clears his throat, the subtle sound pulling you back from your thoughts. "So, Suguru came by to drop off gifts...?" His voice carries a tone that’s almost too casual, but you don’t miss the hint of something more in his eyes.
You hold his gaze, the irritation bubbling up again. "Yes, he did. He’s been kind to us." You can’t help the defensiveness that creeps into your voice. "Is that a problem?"
Satoru doesn’t immediately answer. Instead, he glances over at Koji, who’s happily occupied with his toy. He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair before meeting your eyes again. "No, I didn’t say that. I just... I just didn’t know he was so involved."
You feel a knot form in your stomach. The subtle way he’s questioning you, the way his posture tenses every time Suguru’s name comes up—he’s feeling something, and you’re not sure how to read it. Before you can respond, Koji looks up from his toys, his voice full of innocent curiosity. “Is something wrong, Papa? Mama?”
You both turn your attention to him, but the tension doesn’t fully dissipate. You force a smile, trying to keep things light. "No, Koji. Everything’s fine." You reach over to ruffle his hair. "Are you enjoying your presents?"
Koji nods enthusiastically, his smile wide. "Best Christmas ever!" he exclaims. He looks down at your gift. “Open yours, Mama. I wanna see what your friend got you.”
You hesitate, still trying to steady your emotions after the tension with Satoru. “Alright, sweetheart,” you say, holding your gift upright in your lap. Gently peeling away the wrapping, revealing a small, wooden box. The delicate craftsmanship catches your attention immediately. 
Koji’s eyes widen in anticipation. “What’s inside, Mama? What is it?”
You open the box, revealing a small silver pendant shaped like a star, its surface engraved with intricate patterns. It’s beautiful—elegant and simple, a perfect fit for you. You trace your fingers over the smooth edges, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you smile at the thoughtful gesture. It comes with a thin silver chain, a small note underneath it. When you pull it out, it reads: 
“For the one who shines the brightest, even in the darkest of times.”
Your heart skips a beat as you read the words. It’s simple, yet so deeply personal. You trace the note with your fingertips, a mixture of warmth and something else stirring in your chest. You always mocked Suguru in the past for being so corny with his words, you never expected to be on the receiving end of them. And you never expected to blush from it either. 
“Isn’t it pretty, Mama?” Koji asks, his voice filled with genuine excitement. “I think it’s sparkly like the stars!”
You nod. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart. I’m sure it’ll look lovely on me,” You slide the pendant into your hand, clutching it for a moment longer before carefully setting it back inside. But, despite your best efforts to keep things together, you can feel the tension building again. Satoru’s look that he fails to hide is getting more on your nerves by the second. He’s acting like he has some right to be upset if his friend is giving you something. He’s acting like it’s a bigger deal than it actually is.
“Are you gonna wear it?” Koji asks, his eyes shining with curiosity. “Papa, won’t Mama look pretty with it?”
You peer over. “Of course, Mama will look pretty with it,” he says with a half-smile that’s forced. “She’s always beautiful, no matter what she wears.”
You scoff this time. What a load of shit. 
Koji squeals, clearly pleased with the answer. “Right, Mama? You’re the prettiest!”
You smile back, feeling warmth in your chest, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, sweetheart,” you mutter softly, trying to keep things light. 
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It’s extremely late now. Koji has passed out in his room with the figurine Suguru got him. Satoru and you have cleaned up in complete silence, the awkward tension intensifying even more now that Koji isn’t here to mend that. There’s only the sound of the soft hum of the dishwasher as it runs. You wipe down the counter, your movements mechanical, each action making the silence stretch longer and longer between you. Satoru stands by the sink, wiping down the wet surface around it with a towel, his back to you. But you can feel his presence in the room like a weight pressing down on the air.
Neither of you says anything, the unspoken words piling up between you both. You can feel the tension crawling beneath your skin, just like before, but now there’s no Koji to distract you, no innocent question to break the silence. Just you and Satoru, both avoiding the inevitable conversation that looms in the background. Until he finally has the balls to do something. “He didn’t tell me he was getting you guys something.”
You pause, staring down at the clean surface. “Why would he have to tell you? It’s just a present.” Your hand moves again, moving onto the corner of the granite. 
Satoru bites his tongue, willing himself not to snark back. He turns his body around, eyes digging holes into the back of your head. “I mean, it’s a little strange.”
“How?”
“Because Koji is my son, you’re my ex.”
“So that suddenly means I’m incapable of receiving presents from other men now?” You whirl around, hands on your hips. “What did you say again? Oh, right. ‘Stop getting mad at little things’.” 
Satoru flinches, his jaw tightening at your words. For a moment, he’s caught off guard, not expecting you to snap back so quickly. But he doesn’t back down. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” His voice is low, tight, as if he’s trying to keep his composure. “I just don’t like how...how weird that feels.”
You roll your eyes. “Right, weird, huh?”
“I’m not trying to argue, okay?”
“I’m not arguing either,” you quip back. “But you have no right to act like this is ‘weird’ when it’s not. You have no right to be even curious about who’s giving Koji and I gifts.”
“No right?” He huffs back at you, lip curling up. “I think I have all the right, Y/N. First off, he’s my son. Second off, we used to date. And third off, that’s my best friend. What kind of best friend—”
“Then maybe you should take that up with him.” You cut him off, chin tilting up. It’s getting harder by the second to keep things calm and composed. But Satoru shoving his fat nose into something that doesn’t involve him is testing every bit of patience you have. “I can get a gift from whoever I want, that’s none of your concern.”
Satoru’s eyes narrow as you speak, his grip on the towel tightening, the vein in his neck twitching with barely restrained frustration. “None of my concern, huh?” His voice lowers, the words coming out sharp. “That’s funny, because it seems like everything I do, say, or feel ends up being your concern, whether you want it to be or not.”
You step closer, your heart racing as the anger rises in your chest, pushing against the barriers you’ve built. “Satoru, I’m done pretending like everything we do is some sort of tangled mess that you have the right to control. You’re not my boyfriend anymore, and Koji isn’t the reason I have to explain every little thing to you.”
“I’m not saying you have to.”
“Then just shut the hell up about it already.”
Silence follows. 
The room feels colder now, the weight of your words settling heavily in the space between you. Satoru doesn’t respond immediately, his jaw clenched tightly as he stares at you, his chest rising and falling as if he’s weighing the next words carefully. He’s frustrated, no doubt, but something else lingers beneath it—something deeper, something that neither of you has dared to address.
You stand there, both of you frozen, the only sound the faint hum of the dishwasher and the quiet rhythm of your breathing. It feels as though time has stopped, the tension so thick it’s almost suffocating. Then, slowly, Satoru takes a breath and places the towel down on the counter, running a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice much softer now, but still tinged with frustration. “I get it. It’s not my place anymore.”
Your lips purse, feeling slightly caught off guard by his quick reluctance to further escalate things. But that’s a good thing, right? Swallowing down anything else, you nod stiffly. Eyes moving down to focus on anything else but him. Your hands awkwardly fiddle together. 
But he never looks away from you. Mind reeling about what to say or do next, fearing that he did in fact make a big deal out of nothing. It’s just presents, that’s it. But the quiet voice in his head nags at him more and more. But why didn’t Suguru say anything? Isn’t it at least some common courtesy to tell your best friend you’re getting his son and ex a gift? Even a simple text would have sufficed. 
But he didn’t do any of that. So Satoru’s brain feels like he tried to hide it—for a reason? He doesn’t know. Maybe he forgot? Still, he doesn’t like the knot that forms in his gut. 
A calming breath is taken to reset his system, shaking his head. Not tonight, not tonight. His fingers reach into the pocket of his coat, feeling a small, square box. He waits for a few seconds, unsure if he should continue on. Nonetheless, he does. Pulling out the little thing, presenting it in front of him. 
He clears his throat, you look back over at him. Head tilting slightly at the sight of the wrapped box with a tiny red bow. “…what is that?”
“My gift to you.” He murmurs out, holding it to you. 
Your eyes widen, mouth parting. No words come out, feeling a multitude of varying emotions. It all ends with you reaching out for the box, shaking it a little. You hear a small clanking. Asking a stupid question like what is it will just keep your wary feelings alive. So, you carefully remove the light wrapping, slowly like you’re scared as to why you’ll see inside. 
You’re not scared. Just more confused. 
“A key?” You question, holding up the gold key in front of your face. It dangles as your vision focuses back on the man in front of you. “What is this for?”
Satoru watches you, his eyes a mix of uncertainty and something deeper, something more vulnerable. He shifts slightly, hands in his pockets, his shoulders tense as if bracing himself for your reaction. “To your new place.” 
Your heart skips a beat at his words. A new place? Your mind struggles to catch up, trying to make sense of the statement. “My new place?” you repeat, still not sure if you heard him correctly.
Satoru nods slowly, his eyes now focused on the key in your hand. “I’ve been looking for something for you. For Koji. A place where you both can be… comfortable. It’s. A nice neighborhood, enough room. There’s a school next by and there’s open spots left.” His voice is steady, but there’s a tinge of something vulnerable in the way he says it—like he’s giving you space to decide, but also hoping for something more.
A rush of conflicting emotions hits you. You look down at the key again, your fingers curling around it as you try to process what he’s saying. “You… got me a place?” You repeat, still in shock over the fact that he went out of his way to do so. 
He shifts his weight, eyes still on the key. “Not just you. A place for you, Koji… and maybe even me, too. When I come to visit sometimes, there’s four bedrooms, one of them can be used as a spare.”
Your breath catches in your throat. Satoru has always been unpredictable, but this—this is different. It feels like he’s offering something more than just a space. It’s a possibility. A chance. But it also feels like an unspoken question, one that you’re not sure how to answer. “I don’t know what to say,” you whisper, looking at the key again. “Why now?”
Satoru steps closer, his expression softer than you’ve seen in a long time. “Because… I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I know I’ve messed things up too for us, and I’m not asking for anything. Just… I thought it might be a good way to start fresh. For you and Koji. And you guys mean a lot to me, I want you to live in a nice space. Not…not somewhere like this. The people look shady.”
You stand there, the weight of his words sinking in. The offer is unexpected, yet strangely comforting. It’s not just about the apartment or the key—it’s about something deeper, something that might hold the possibility of fixing whatever things were broken.
But then, a quiet part of you wonders: Do I want this?
You bite the inside of your cheek, clutching the key tighter in your hand now. You bite the inside of your cheek, clutching the key in your hand now. The smooth, cold metal feels heavier than it should, like it’s holding all the unanswered questions and unresolved feelings between you and Satoru. You glance up at him, his expression open yet guarded, as though he’s trying to brace himself for any answer you might give.
“Satoru...” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to say.”
He shrugs, though there’s an uneasy tension in his posture. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just...I wanted to give you something. Something that’s yours.” His gaze flickers to the key in your hand. “No strings, no expectations. Just a place where you and Koji can feel safe. If you don’t want it, I’ll still keep it around if you someday change your mind.”
The sincerity in his voice tugs at something deep within you, but it also makes your heart ache. You swallow hard, your emotions swirling. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this first?” you ask, your tone softer now, though still tinged with confusion.
“Because I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured or think it was about me trying to fix everything all at once. It’s not like that. I just... I care about you. And about Koji. And besides, it’s Christmas.” He ends with a small smile, his right dimple peeking out. 
His words hang in the air, filling the silence between you. For a small instant, you don’t respond, your mind racing. This gesture—it’s thoughtful, maybe even selfless—but it’s also overwhelming. You hold the key closer, feeling its edges press into your palm, grounding you in the midst of the emotional storm. Finally, you exhale, your voice steady but quiet. “I need some time to think about this. It’s... a lot.”
Satoru nods, his blue eyes softening. “Take all the time you need. It’s yours, no matter what you decide.” He pauses, glancing toward the door. “Well, I should probably get going.”
Adjusting his coat, he takes one step out the kitchen before you stop him with a hand to his arm. A ring of fire burns up his arm and to his ears, slowly making its way to his cheeks when he looks back down at you. “I…I got you something…too.”
His eyebrows raise, not having expected you to give him something in return. Letting go of his arm, you walk to a small cupboard, reaching in and pulling out a square shaped gift. It’s wrapped in light blue wrapping with a red bow. You hand it to him and he takes it, feeling around. He already has an idea of what it is. 
“Open it when you get back.” You mutter, rubbing the back of your neck. 
He stares quietly for a small time, a hint of a smile almost making its way onto his face again. It’s cute how shy you look right now. Some things never change, do they? He nods, murmuring back. “Okay, thank you.”
With one final hum from you, he heads back to the door. His stomach feeling lighter. You hesitate, watching him turn toward the hallway. “Satoru.”
He stops, looking back at you over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.” Your words are sincere, even if you’re still unsure about everything. “For thinking about us.”
A faint grin tugs at his lips, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “Always,” he says softly before walking away, leaving you standing there with the key in your hand and your thoughts spinning.
You remain rooted in place, the key dangling lightly in your grip as the door clicks shut behind him. The silence that follows feels deafening. The warmth of the holiday lights around the room does little to ease the cold weight settling in your chest. You sit down at the edge of the couch, staring at the key, your mind replaying Satoru’s words. No strings, no expectations. Just a place where you and Koji can feel safe.
It’s a generous gift, undeniably thoughtful, but it feels complicated—like every other thing in your relationship with Satoru. You know he means well, but the history between you makes it impossible to separate the gesture from the lingering emotions that bind you both. Your gaze shifts to the Christmas tree, now surrounded by Koji’s new toys. You can still picture his bright smile, hear his laughter from earlier in the evening. The thought of giving him a stable home, something truly yours, tugs at your heart. But then there’s the nagging voice in your head, reminding you of the tension tonight—the unspoken conflicts, the unresolved feelings, and the fragile line you and Satoru walk every time you see each other.
You sigh, leaning back against the couch, the key resting in your palm. Your eyes drift to the small silver pendant Suguru gave you earlier. It still sits on the coffee table, catching the warm glow of the Christmas lights. Another kind gesture. Another layer to the mess.
The soft patter of small feet interrupts your thoughts. Koji appears in the hallway, rubbing his eyes sleepily, his Spider-Man toy clutched tightly in one hand. 
“Mama?” he mumbles, his voice groggy. “Why are you still up?”
You quickly set the key on the table, forcing a smile. “Just cleaning up, sweetheart. Is everything okay?” 
He nods, yawning as he climbs onto your lap, resting his head against your chest. “Yes.”
“Did you have a good Christmas?”
“The best Christmas ever.”
You hold him close, brushing his messy hair away from his forehead. “That’s all that matters,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head. But even as you say it, your thoughts drift back to the key—and everything it represents.
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Satoru has been staring at the gift—stil wrapped—for about fifteen minutes now. He’s conflicted. Unsure if he wants to know what you got him, or if it’ll bring on something unwanted. The gift sits untouched on the table before him, the wrapping paper shimmering faintly under the soft glow of the Christmas lights. Satoru leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, one hand tangled in his hair as he stares at it. His jaw tightens, then relaxes, his thoughts spiraling in circles.
Fifteen minutes. That’s how long he’s been sitting here, debating whether to open it.
He knows it’s just a gift. A simple, kind gesture. But with everything that’s happened tonight—the tension, the unspoken words, the unresolved feelings—this small box feels heavier than it should. What if it’s something that reminds him of how things used to be? Or worse, what if it’s just a polite, distant gift, a reminder of how far apart you’ve drifted?
He exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. “It’s just a damn gift, Satoru,” he mutters to himself. Yet he doesn’t move, his blue eyes fixed on the box as if it might spring to life and deliver answers to questions he’s too afraid to ask. 
He huffs a reluctant laugh, his hand finally reaching for the gift. His fingers trace the edges of the paper before he carefully begins to unwrap it, the sound of tearing paper filling the quiet room. Beneath the wrapping is a small black box, simple and unassuming. He lifts the top up and it drops to the side. 
His hands still in place, almost beginning to tremble. His breathing shallows, heart thumping quicker than before. Carefully—very carefully—he reaches in. Handling the object with utmost care, bringing it closer to his face. 
Two faces stare back at him. 
His son—undeniably younger, maybe around one year old. He’s being held in your lap, arms secure around his tiny stomach. He looks chubbier, cuter. Wearing a cute Christmas get up. Baby Santa. And when his eyes glaze over to you, he gulps. 
You’re wearing an equally festive outfit. A bright red sweater adorned with little snowflakes and reindeer, a simple black skirt to go with it. Your face is glowing with a smile so genuine, it knocks the breath out of him. Your hair is a little messier, your cheeks flushed with warmth, probably from laughing too much. Koji’s tiny hand clutches at your sweater, and your other hand is raised in a peace sign as you lean closer to him for the photo. 
Satoru’s fingers brush the surface of the photograph, his chest tightening as the memory pulls him under. It looks like a professional photo done, you must’ve gone all out that Christmas. Now, holding it in his hands, it feels like a physical snapshot of a life he had no chance of living in. 
His thumb grazes the edge of the picture frame it’s nestled in. It’s a simple wooden frame, painted white, with the words Our First Christmas Together etched across the top in tiny gold letters.
He lets out a shaky exhale, his vision blurring slightly. He blinks rapidly, trying to push back the emotions clawing at his throat. It’s not just the photograph—it’s what it represents. A time when things were simpler. When the two of you were a family, before everything unraveled. When it was just you and Koji—no room for him. 
The weight of the night presses on him again, harder this time. He feels foolish for hesitating to open the gift, for overthinking it, when you’d given him something so pure. Something so full of love. He pulls the frame in, swallowing hard as he leans back on the couch. He holds it close to his chest. His other hand runs through his hair, tugging slightly as he tries to steady himself. “Why’d you have to go and do this?” he whispers to no one, his voice breaking. He outwardly chuckles—bitter but affectionate. Warm tears sliding down his cheeks and resting atop the wooden frame. His lips press a small kiss to his baby son, and to you. 
Because now, more than ever, he realizes how much he still misses you. And how much he regrets letting it all slip away when he was too young and stupid to think clearly. 
That night when he heads to bed, he sleeps with the picture of his family next to him. Tucked in like it’s a physical being, and in a way, it is. 
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moonstruckme · 10 days ago
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hey, i have a request idea if you'd want to indulge 🫣 could you write about remus x reader where reader isn't used to being comforted or having someone console her when she's upset/crying and it takes a bit of convincing and remus reassuring her to let him hug her or be with her while she's upset?
Thanks for requesting!
cw: modern-ish au I guess because there are portable phones
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
You feel lucky, you think through tears. It’s a funny thought to have, cold in the alley outside a pub with a stone-like pressure lodged in your throat, but you do. You feel lucky to have taken your call outside. That you didn’t pick up the phone while you were with your friends, or at work earlier today, or later when you’re home with your flatmate. You’re glad to have the luxury of privacy for your small meltdown. 
The sharp squeal of the door has you backing instinctively towards the wall, hiding yourself in shadows. You’re hoping the exiting patron will pass you by without noticing you, or else they’ll think you’re just out for a smoke. You’re not quite as lucky as that, though. 
“Y/n?” Remus calls your name out the door. He’s not as noisy as the rest of your friends even when he’s trying to be, just loud enough to be heard. Like a coward, you keep quiet until his head turns and he spots you. 
“Oh, thank god.” He smiles. It’s too dark, and he’s too far away to see the tears on your cheeks. “You’ve been gone a long while. James was scared you’d been kidnapped.” He opens the door to the pub further. “Ready to come back in?” 
You clear your throat. “I’ll be there in a minute.” 
Remus’ smile fades into bemusement. “You’re not still on the phone?” 
“No...” 
“What’s wrong?” He steps outside, letting the door swing closed behind him. 
“Remus—” You reach out as if you catch it, as if you're anywhere near enough. “It’ll lock you out.” 
He doesn’t so much as glance behind him. The door shuts with a dull thud, and Remus continues towards you, brows tucking closer together as he does. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks again. 
“Nothing.” 
“You’re crying.” 
“Please go back inside.” Your voice is thin and quiet now, lined with desperation. 
Remus’ expression twinges with something like hurt. His tone is exceedingly gentle. “Why? Darling, are you alright?” 
As much as you try to stop them, his concern has fresh tears breaking past your waterline. You swallow a whimper. 
Remus takes another step toward you, reaching, and you feel like shit for taking a step back. 
“I don’t want you to see me like this,” you whisper. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” he shushes you, hands still outstretched like he’s comforting some frightened animal. The darkness blurs his features, making his irises bleed into pupils and the bump of his nose indistinct. “There’s nothing wrong with it.” 
You bite your lip, trying to quiet yourself. “I really—really don’t like to cry in front of people.” 
“I’m sorry. I just want you to be alright. What’s wrong?” 
“It’s really nothing.”
Remus makes a soft, sympathetic sound. “Okay. Can I give you a hug?” 
“Remus, I—” You press your fingertips into your eyes. “I appreciate it, and I’m sorry, but I’d like it if you’d go back inside please.” 
“I’m sorry,” he says back in much the same tone. “I’m not going to leave you out here by yourself. We can…we can go somewhere else if you want. Or I can take you home. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, I just can’t leave you here. It’s not safe.” 
You take in a breath and nod, trying to be understanding. Tears continue to slither down your cheeks. 
“Do you want to go home?” 
“No. I…my flatmate’s there.” 
“Oh, sweetheart.” He sounds upset, his voice softening into something almost unbearable. “I wish you wouldn’t cry by yourself. We don’t have to talk about it, but I’d like it if you’d let me comfort you. Please.” 
You hold your lip between your teeth, a feeling both hollow and tight sitting in your middle. Remus takes a tentative step forward. When you don’t move, he closes the rest of the distance. 
It’s like someone’s punched the air out of you. Your shoulders give a small jerk, and Remus lays his hand flat between them, steadying with its gentle pressure. You put your arms around him. 
“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmurs. “You’re alright.” 
Everything gets worse, but it feels better. You tremble and get snot on his shirt. Remus doesn’t seem to mind. He only holds you. Over time, your upset dissolves like a tablet in water, fizzing up before it fades to near nothing. 
Remus lets you go when you pull away, tugging the sleeve of your shirt over your fist to wipe your face. He gets a few tears for you, too, combs your hair away from your face, all without saying much. He’s letting you choose the terms of what gets discussed. 
“Sorry,” you say, voice scratchy. “Thanks.” 
“You’re alright,” Remus replies. It’s a mantra at this point. 
“I’m…I didn’t really mean to…” 
“You can always come to me with things like this.” Remus gives you a tender look, one part tentative and two parts earnest. “It’s alright to be upset, yeah? I know you don’t always want to be with someone when you are, but I always want to be with you, so. Just, you can come to me if you want to.” 
“Thank you,” you say again, softer. A feeling takes form in your chest, ballooning into the space between you. It pushes and pulls at the same time. 
You wonder if Remus is feeling something similar. His lips press together almost ruefully as he cups your face in his hand, thumb rubbing tenderly over your cheekbone. 
You start to pull in a breath. 
The door to the pub bangs open. 
“There you are!” James sticks his head out, glasses refracting the light from inside. “I was half ready to phone the authorities! What are you two doing?” 
“I told you they’d be fine,” Sirius says from somewhere inside. “Probably just having a smoke.” 
“They’re not smoking.” James’ eyes squint as he tries to make you out. “They’re…” 
“We were just talking.” Remus steps toward them, letting his hand slip from your face casually. “We’re ready to come back in, though, I think.” He looks at you. “Are you?” 
“Um, yeah.” You run a knuckle quickly under your eye. Remus catches your hand, squeezing. 
“You look fine,” he promises lowly. “Lovely. Okay?” 
You feel your lips tug weakly upward. “Oh. Okay.” 
“Why are we cavorting in dark alleyways?” James asks as you both move past him. The light inside seems blinding, and you worry for your puffy eyes, but Remus’ hand is warm and reassuring in yours. “I didn’t realize how dark it was. We shouldn’t have let you take your call out there in the first place, babe. Do you two have some shadowy dealings I ought to know about?” 
“They wouldn’t be shadowy for long if you knew about them,” Remus points out. 
“Too true, Moony. But that’s why you keep me around, isn’t it. I’m your moral compass. And you owe your moral compass a pint for the fright you’ve put him through tonight, I think.”
596 notes · View notes
genshinluvr · 2 months ago
Text
Marks of the Dragons
Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Neuvillette x Isekai'd!Reader, Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader, Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader x Neuvillette
Summary: Zhongli and Neuvillette marked you— they marked you by biting you. What lead up to that situation? You went on a trip to Chenyu Vale with the Chief Justice of Fontaine and Funeral Consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.
Note: My work schedule has been very inconsistent that I wasn't able to work on anything :< This smut is probably awful since I haven't written smut in so long. Before anyone new asks, yes, Kinich, Sethos, and Ororon are officially in the harem! Since I unknowingly manifested both Zhongli and Neuvillette's banners have a rerun together, I had to write a smut with the two finest men in Genshin. This idea is partially from the unpublished Zhongli smut I had in mind two years ago, so I had to make it a thing for both Zhongli and Neuvillette >:3 MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warning: Horribly written smut, anal, oral, double penetration, blowjobs, hair pulling, choking, Zhongli and Neuvillette have two dicks, biting, marking, maybe mating???
Word Count: 7.1k
Everyone is lounging in the living room, sitting close to the fireplace, taking in the heat and cozy atmosphere—except for you. There’s an empty spot beside every man in the room, hoping you’ll cuddle up beside them. You’re still in your bedroom, preparing for the hangout. It’s freezing in the abode, which surprises everyone because who knew it could become freezing in the teapot? Heck, it looks like it might even snow by the looks of it. 
Scaramouche sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’s taking [Y/N] so long? We’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes, and they still haven’t left their bedroom.”
“Maybe they fell asleep?” Venti suggests, looking around the room.
The lights in the living room are off. The only source of light illuminating the dark room is the fireplace, casting a warm glow. 
Kaeya yawns, stretching his arms before sprawling out on the couch, rubbing his eye with his knuckle. “If [Y/N] doesn’t come out of their room by the time the clock strikes eight, I’m going to fall asleep,” Kaeya mutters, leaning over to snatch the fluffy blanket from Diluc’s lap, earning a glare from the redhead.
Diluc sharply exhales from his nostrils, pinching the space between his eyebrows. “Why can’t you get your own blanket instead of taking other people’s belongings?” Diluc grumbles, reaching over to yank the blanket from Kaeya’s body.
Dainsleif rolls his eyes before getting up from his spot and heading towards the staircase. The men stop what they’re doing, watching the blond man walk up the stairs. “Since everyone is impatient, I’ll check on them myself.”
Upstairs in the estate, you stare at your reflection in the mirror, pulling up your turtleneck. You rarely wear turtlenecks, but since it’s freezing in the abode, you might as well wear one. You leave your bathroom and grab the nearest jacket. Your neck is aching, and it hurts each time you twist or tilt your head. You zip up your jacket, making sure the bandage is hidden beneath both your jacket and turtleneck. 
You peek at your reflection in the full-length mirror, eyeing yourself from head to toe as you walk to your dresser for your fuzzy socks. You dig through the dresser, searching for the specific fuzzy sock you cherish (it kept your feet warm well because the men would complain about your feet being cold every time it brushed against their legs).
A gentle knock from your bedroom door pulls you out of your thoughts. You quickly put on your socks before rushing to answer the door. You take a deep breath and open the door, your heart thundering in your chest when you see Dainsleif in front of you.
You smile at the blond man. “Hey, Dainsleif! Sorry for taking so long. I was looking for a comfortable jacket to wear along with these fuzzy socks, " you say, looking down at your sock-clad feet. 
Before Dainsleif can say anything, Childe pops up from the corner, placing a rough hand on Dainsleif’s shoulders, causing him to grunt and glare at the Harbinger. “You took your sweet time, snookums. Were you trying to look pretty for me?” Childe teases, winking at you.
You playfully roll your eyes, shaking your head, only to stop abruptly and let out a sharp breath. Dainsleif and Childe look at you worriedly, scanning you from head to toe for any injuries. You clear your throat, plastering a fake smile on your face.
“You two have nothing to worry about, I promise. I’m done getting dressed, and we can all go downstairs now. Let’s go before the others become restless,” you say, stepping out of your bedroom and walking past Dainsleif and Childe. 
As you’re descending the stairs, both Childe and Dainsleif trade looks with one another before following behind you. Once the three of you reach the living room, everyone sighs in relief and gestures for you to sit beside them. You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“I’m not sure if I can sit with every one of you at the same time.” You say, waddling farther into the living room. “Who am I sitting with first?” You ask, sitting on the armrest where Dottore is seated. 
Dottore chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap. “It looks like you subconsciously made your decision already, kitten. The others can wait.” He states, smirking at the other men in the room.
Itto shoots up from his spot. “Hey, that’s not fair!”
Dottore shrugs, shooting a shit-eating grin in Itto’s direction before continuing to have you wrapped up in his arms. When Itto opens his mouth to protest once more, Thoma pats his shoulders and shakes his head as if he’s telling Itto to let it slide for now. Itto grumbles and slumps in his seat, hugging the plush onikabuto to his chest with a pout.
Ayato clears his throat. “How about this? Each of us gets to have our turn with [Y/N] for twenty minutes,” Ayato suggests.
Ororon sighs, resting his head on the armrest. “There’s over thirty of us in the room. Do you really think we’ll be sitting here for hours just to have our turn to snuggle with [Y/N]?” Ororon grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Dottore.
Sitting near the fireplace, Sethos props his feet on the ottoman and chuckles. “Heck, if that means I get my chance to snuggle with my cuddle bug, I don’t mind waiting for my turn,” Sethos says, winking at you.
Heat rushes to your cheeks as you sink farther against Dottore’s chest. Dottore’s chuckle rings in your ears, causing your face to feel even hotter. Kinich sighs, leaning back against the sofa while Ajaw nags his ears off about who knows what. Kinich briefly glances at you before something catches his attention. Kinich suddenly sits up straight, leans forward, and squints at you for a moment.
You can’t help but squirm under his gaze, feeling slightly awkward now that the others are starting to realize what Kinich is doing. Everyone’s eyes are all on you, trying to see what Kinich is staring at aside from you. 
You awkwardly clear your throat. “Is there something on my face?” You mutter, subconsciously reaching up to your face, feeling around for anything. Aside from the skincare products Xiao and Zhongli bought for you a few days ago while in Liyue, you feel nothing. 
“Are you alright by any chance?” Kinich asks, now standing in front of you and Dottore.
You blink up at Kinich owlishly before nodding your head. “Yeah, I’m okay! W-Why did you ask?”
Kinich continues to scrutinize you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe— looking at the smallest details on you. Kinich reaches forward and caresses your face in his hands, catching you off guard. You gulp, internally praying that he doesn’t notice the bandaids hidden beneath your turtleneck.
Kinich tilts your head up and turns your head from side to side while inspecting every little thing about you. Your heart continues to race in your chest, and your face gets hotter and hotter by the minute. Due to the excessive movement, the collar of your jacket and turtleneck conveniently slide down, making the bandages visible to everyone. 
“What happened to your neck?” Thoma gasps as people start to gather around you.
Kinich lets go of your head and takes a step back when Capitano brushes him to the side. Capitano kneels before you, caressing your face with one hand while unzipping your jacket with the other. Dottore hooks his finger underneath the collar of your turtleneck and pulls it down, revealing more of the bandage wrapped around your neck.
Baizhu furrows his eyebrows, inspecting the bandage. Capitano moves to the side so Baizhu can take a closer look at your supposed “injury.” You nervously peek from Baizhu’s shoulders, locking eyes with Zhongli and Neuvillette. The two men stand side by side, not saying a word. Are they going to let you handle this situation alone!? How are they so calm when you’re internally panicking?!
Baizhu pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs softly. “[Y/N], sweetheart, if you’re injured, you do not need to hide it from any of us— especially me. Your wounds could get infected if they’re not treated properly,” Baizhu chides, sitting at the edge of the seat beside Dottore while eyeing your bandaged neck.
“I’ll remove the bandages so Dr. Baizhu can properly treat your injury,” Capitano says, reaching for the corner of the peachy-beige bandage, ready to peel it off when you suddenly grab his wrist, stopping him.
You shake your head, eyes wide. “You don’t have to! I’m fine, I promise!” You squeak.
Pierro crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing you. “If you’re fine, then you would be okay with us taking the bandage off to inspect the wound,” Pierro says gruffly.
You swallow the lump in your throat, hesitantly releasing Capitano’s wrists and letting your hands fall onto your lap. Capitano proceeds to peel off the bandage, only to reveal another layer beneath. Capitano pauses and looks at you, not saying anything.
Xiao huffs. “If you were truly okay, then you wouldn’t need to have more than one layer of bandaid around your neck,” Xiao grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
Capitano continues where he left off, gently removing the bandage from your neck. You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing you will not be able to handle the other’s reaction to the marks on your neck. Once the bandage slowly reveals what’s underneath it, you hear sharp gasps from the men in the room.
Kaveh pushes Capitano out of the way while muttering an apology before ripping the bandage off completely, revealing two bite marks on each side of your neck. Kaveh gasps in horror, his eyes bugging out of his head.
“What kind of monster did this to you!?” Kaveh screams, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he forces you to look at him in the eyes.
Al Haitham sighs, pinching the space between his eyebrows while shaking his head. “For once, can you relax?” Al Haitham mutters, glaring at the blond architect. 
Kaveh ignores Al Haitham’s comment as he continues to examine the bite marks on your neck. Kaveh gently brushes the marks on your neck, causing you to wince and softly hiss at the contact. Kaveh looks at Baizhu, giving him a pleading look. 
Pantalone adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I’m no doctor, but the bite marks look fresh. It looks irritated,” Pantalone mutters, stroking his chin.
“Who did this to you?” Tighnari asks.
You swallow the lump in your throat, heat rushing to your cheeks as you try to muster up an excuse. Surely, if the others knew who did this to you, they wouldn’t be too upset, would they? How are you supposed to explain this to the others when the perpetrators don’t look apologetic in the slightest? Heck, they look smug that the others found out about the bite marks on your neck. 
“Those look like deep puncture holes. I don’t believe normal human teeth could do this,” Cyno mutters, pulling you out of your thoughts. 
Gorou’s eyes widen as he nods. “You’re right! There’s no way any of us could have inflicted this type of… injury on [Y/N]!”
Heizou’s eyes light up as he walks toward you, his eyes remaining on your neck. “If you look closely, the teeth marks aren’t the same. One bite is larger than the other, and the canines don’t exactly match up. However, they seem to have a specific intention when leaving said bite marks on [Y/N]’s neck,” Heizou says, stroking his chin. 
For the next five minutes, the men talk among themselves, trying to figure out who or what could have given you the bite marks. They continue to look and examine you, making you feel like a strange phenomenon they have ever laid their eyes on. Well, technically, you sort of are one because you’re not from their world. 
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get those marks on your neck?” Aether asks, plopping down beside you.
You shift on Dottore’s lap, clearing your throat. “Uh…” you trail off, rubbing the back of your neck while subconsciously looking over at the two refined men two feet in front of you. For once, they’re not avoiding each other (well, Zhongli was the one avoiding). They stand beside each other, gazing at you intently, their eyes occasionally shifting to the marks on your neck. Of course, they’re not speaking to each other. They’re trying to keep up an act.
Wriothesley raises his eyebrows. “Why do you keep looking at Monsieur Neuvillette and Mister Zhongli? Surely they’re not the ones who left those marks on you, are they?” Wriothesley sarcastically asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“So? Are you going to tell us how you got those marks on your throat?” Aether asks, shaking his head.
You have an inkling feeling that Aether knows who the culprits are but doesn’t want to say it. You look elsewhere, trying to come up with an excuse. While trying to find the excuse, you start to think about what led to you getting marked by the Chief Justice of Fontaine and the Funeral Consultant. 
- Less than 24 hours ago -
Zhongli has offered to take you to Chenyu Vale after hearing you rave about the tea set Shenhe and Ganyu have gifted you when visiting the abode. Of course, the trip Zhongli initially planned was going to be just you and him. However, the Chief Justice of Fontaine wanted to tag along, and since Zhongli didn’t want to be rude, Zhongli reluctantly agreed to turn the trip for two into a trip for three.
“Ooh, twenty Chenyu Adeptea for fifteen hundred Mora?” You murmur, stroking your chin while the vendor talks your ears off. 
Neuvillette grabs you by the shoulders before steering you away from the stall while clearing his throat. “While it may seem like a great deal, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Neuvillette mutters, ignoring the glare the merchant shoots in his direction.
“But it’s the same tea that Ganyu and Shenhe gifted me!” You protest, attempting to look at the stall, but Neuvillette shakes his head, turning your head to make you face forward.
Neuvillette sighed, muttering about merchants trying to lure unsuspecting victims into a scam— a scam he had once fallen for a year prior during Lantern Rite. Neuvillette looks around, searching for a certain idiot Archon Funeral Consultant around the area. Footsteps approaching you and Neuvillette grab both your and the Iudex’s attention. 
Zhongli raises his eyebrows upon seeing the expression on Neuvillette’s face. “Is everything alright?” Zhongli crosses his arms over his chest.
You point at the stall behind you and Neuvillette. “Someone was selling packs of Adeptea for a great price! I was about to buy some, but Neuvillette steered me away from the merchant!” You explain, visibly upset.
Zhongli opens his mouth to scold Neuvillette, only for the Iudex to move out of the way to show the merchant and his stall. Upon laying his eyes on the familiar stall, Zhongli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. For once, Zhongli is glad that Neuvillette decides to tag along on this trip. Who knows how much Mora you’ll end up spending and getting scammed in the end?
You continue to pout at Zhongli and Neuvillette, muttering about wanting to return to the abode with large quantities of Adeptea. Zhongli gestures to Neuvillette, letting the Iudex know that he’s got this handled. 
Zhongli approaches you, grabs your hand, and tucks your hair behind your ear with a small smile. “Dearest, we’ve been out and about in Chenyu Vale for quite some time now. Are you hungry by any chance?” Zhongli asks, gazing at you intently. 
“Huh. Now that I think about it, I am a little bit hungry…” you trail off, feeling your stomach rumble. “Yeah, I’m hungry.” You turn to Neuvillette, “What about you? Are you hungry as well, Neuvillette?”
The Chief Justice of Fontaine nearly cries with happiness. Not only is your attention taken away from the scam of a merchant, but you three are finally eating something after being away from the abode for hours. Granted, he did eat something prior to the trip, but walking around for hours can make a person hungry. 
Neuvillette nods, “Yes, I am feeling quite peckish myself,” Neuvillette replies.
Zhongli ignores Neuvillette’s response to your question as he smiles and caresses the back of your head before slipping his hands into yours and pulling you towards a small pavilion. “I know just a place to satiate your hunger.”
Neuvillette sighs, rolling his eyes. Even though the idiot Funeral Consultant reluctantly agreed to have Neuvillette join in on this trip, Neuvillette does not appreciate the fact that he was the third wheel on this trip. Being the angel that you are, you make sure that both Neuvillette and Zhongli get the same shared attention.
Everything else after ends up being a blur for you. You don’t remember what you ordered at the small restaurant, but you do remember drinking a particular tea that is not of Chenyu Vale origin— well, it’s not grown locally. The tea has an earthy taste with a hint of sweetness to it. It’s not your cup of tea (hehehe, get it? Cyno would be so proud of you), but it’s not like you hate it.
After eating and taking a small break from your once-in-a-century exercise, you, Zhongli, and Neuvillette stop by various stalls around Chenyu Vale.
Despite the beautiful region being known for its tea, the three of you ended up coming across an interesting stall. The merchant is selling fragrances from all over Teyvat. Neuvillette and Zhongli have no interest in fragrances, but they’re quite intrigued by the ones you would pick up and examine with curiosity.
“Ah! I see you’re looking at the Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose fragrance! It’s quite popular among the female population in Chenyu Vale!” says the merchant, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
You grab a slip of white paper from the stand and spray the perfume onto the paper before taking a whiff of the popular fragrance. You close your eyes, taking in the scent. It smells lovely. The Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose scented perfume reminds you of the two men standing behind you— not because the flowers are from the two men’s respective regions, but because they go well together, if that makes sense. 
The merchant leans on the stall, gazing at you curiously. “According to my customers, the scent varies from person to person. One customer told me she can smell Glaze Lily more than the Rainbow Rose. On the other hand, a recent customer informed me that she can smell the Rainbow Rose more than the Glaze Lily!”
You open your eyes and tilt your head, confused. You can smell both the Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose— none of the scents were overtaking the other. While the perfume is quite fragrant and lovely, you don’t think this is for you. Plus, it’s pretty popular among the Chenyu Vale women, and you want something a little more… original. You want a signature scent that no other person on Teyvat can mimic. 
“I can smell both the Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose just fine. However, this fragrance isn’t for me. Do you have something unique? I want something original, something people cannot mimic,” you say, placing the perfume down on the stall.
The woman strokes her chin before squatting down, digging through the stall while you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. Even though this trip is initially for the Adeptea, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the fragrance stall. Something about it captivates your attention and makes you want to buy something— definitely not because the fragrance bottles are beautiful (it is).
You peek at Neuvillette and Zhongli, scratching the back of your head with a sheepish smile. “Sorry if this is taking a while. I wanted something unique for myself,” you mutter, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.
Neuvillette smiles and strokes your hair. “There is nothing to apologize for, my dear. It’s not like we’re in a rush to return to the estate,” Neuvillette replies.
Zhongli nods, approaching you and Neuvillette. “I have booked us an inn for the night. We will not be able to return to the abode around this time, especially in weather like this,” Zhongli says, gazing at the now gray skies.
Your eyes widen at the realization. If the three of you have to stay at an inn for the night, how is that going to turn out? Speaking of the inn, will you three have separate bedrooms? Since Zhongli booked the room, are you sharing a room with Zhongli, and does Neuvillette have his own room? Or—
The merchant’s head peeks from the stall, her eyes wide with excitement. “I have found just the scent for you, my dear customer!” The woman fixes her disheveled hair before handing you a round perfume bottle. 
The bottle is a periwinkle color with gold and silver flecks scattered around the bottle. Silver vines wrapped around the bottle, and on those vines are cor lapis and noctilucous jade carved to look like blooming flowers. Zhongli raises his eyebrows while scrutinizing the bottle in your hands.
“If you don’t mind me asking, miss, what makes this fragrance special out of all the fragrances you sell?” Zhongli asks, never taking his eyes off the bottle.
You continue to examine the perfume bottle, enchanted by the appearance of the bottle. It has a sparkly squeeze bulb, tempting you into spraying it onto yourself. You and the merchant make eye contact. The woman grins and gestures to you to try it out yourself. You shrug, not thinking much of it, before pointing the perfume bottle at yourself and squeezing the squeeze bulb. You wince when you realize you sprayed way more than you intended.
“This fragrance is unique because whoever is wearing this scent will not only smell enchanting on the wearer, but only a small handful of people will be… charmed by the scent and the wearer,” she says, nodding with satisfaction.
You sniff the perfume, trying to figure out what the notes are. You’re no perfume expert, but it does have a bit of a unique smell to it. Zhongli and Neuvillette raise their eyebrows at the woman’s strange explanation of the so-called “unique” fragrance. 
“I don’t think this perfume is something I was looking for. Perhaps it’s not meant to be,” You sigh, handing the bottle back to the woman.
The woman frowns, taking the bottle from your hands and storing it in the cabinet of the stall. You, Zhongli, and Neuvillette bid the woman goodbye before heading to the inn. What a shame. You thought you were going to return to the abode with new perfume to wear, but you weren’t too fond of the scent of the perfume. It has an earthy scent, almost reminding you of what the air would smell like after heavy rain. If you remember correctly, there is a hint of mint and maybe Qingxin, if you’re not mistaken.
Zhongli wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Mora for your thoughts?”
“Oh, it’s nothing! I’m just a little disappointed that I ended up not buying anything from the fragrance merchant. It’s a shame the ‘unique’ fragrance isn’t as nearly special as what she made it out to be,” you reply, allowing Zhongli to steer you to your next destination as the skies get darker.
Neuvillette walks beside you, almost sandwiching you between him and Zhongli. The Chief Justice of Fontaine drapes his arm over your shoulder, giving them a comforting squeeze. “I understand that you’re disappointed about the outcome, but think of it this way: you have plenty of Mora to spend before we return to the estate tomorrow afternoon,” Neuvillette says.
You stop in your tracks, letting his words sink in. Neuvillette’s not wrong, and besides, you still haven’t bought the Adeptea you’ve been wanting to buy. After all, that was the point of your trip to Chenyu Vale, but the three of you were sidetracked by the things around you. You guess this is what happens if you travel with men older than Teyvat. 
You take three steps forward before turning to look at Zhongli and Neuvillette. “What you said is true, but I guess that is tomorrow me’s problem,” you shrug, “anyway, let’s go to the inn! It’s starting to sprinkle out here!” You grab their wrists before dragging them towards the large building.
The gust of wind allows both men behind you to catch a whiff of the perfume you sprayed on yourself. They freeze in their tracks, and the grips on your hands tighten, causing you to stumble back into them. 
You blink, craning your head up to see what they’re doing. Zhongli and Neuvillette bend down to sniff your neck. Goosebumps appear all over your body when you feel them hover near your neck to smell the perfume you have on. The tip of Neuvillette’s nose pokes your neck, making you involuntarily freeze. Their hot breaths fan over your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you try to remain calm while they continue to sniff your neck like a bloodhound. Without realizing it, Zhongli grabs underneath your chin and tilts your head up, exposing more of your neck.
Zhongli presses his nose against your neck, taking in deep breaths and breathing in the intoxicating scent of the perfume. Neuvillette closes his eyes, burying his nose into your collarbones and letting the smell of the perfume flood into his nose. You gulp, your heart thundering against your chest the more the two men press up against you.
“What’s gotten into you two?” You breathe, letting out a shaky sigh. 
Neuvillette and Zhongli ignore your question as they continue to bury their faces into your neck, occasionally licking and biting your neck. You lay your head on Zhongli’s shoulders while he continues to keep your head tilted back as he peppers kisses from your jawlines to your shoulders. 
“If you two want to have your ways with me, at least do it indoors and not where people can see,” you sputter, feeling heat pool into your lower regions. 
Upon hearing your words, Zhongli and Neuvillette stop what they’re doing and pull you to the inn. Zhongli checks you three into the inn and grabs the keys from the innkeeper’s hands before dragging you to the elevator with Neuvillette at your side. Once the elevator door closes, both men proceed with what they are doing.
Neuvillette stands behind you, his left arm around your waist while his right hand slips underneath your shirt. Zhongli stands before you, cupping your cheeks with both hands and pressing his lips against yours, devouring your lips. Zhongli grabs your right leg and wraps it around his waist, grinding against you. Your jaws drop, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Zhongli takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, grinding harder against your heat.
Before things can escalate, the elevator bell chimes, alerting the three of you that you have arrived at the floor where your rooms reside. Neuvillette and Zhongli drags you out of the elevator and to the room where you three will be staying. Now that you have some time to process what happened in the elevator, you can’t help but notice prominent tents forming in Zhongli and Neuvillette’s pants.
Neuvillette tosses you over his shoulders while Zhongli unlocks the door to the room. Once the door unlocks, Zhongli and Neuvillette step into the room. Neuvillette closes the door with his foot and locks the door without looking. You lay limp over Neuvillette’s shoulders. A wave of embarrassment washes over you when you feel how soaked your panties are.
Neuvillette tosses you onto the bed, making you bounce. You scan the room of the inn you’re staying at, realizing there’s only one bed in the room. Now that you think about it, Zhongli didn’t hand an extra key for another room at the inn. It seems like Zhongli never booked extra rooms— the three of you are going to sleep in the same bed for the night at the inn.
You prop yourself up on the bed, gazing at both men with wide eyes after seeing that they have removed their coats and are in the process of taking their gloves off and rolling their sleeves up to their elbows. 
“What has gotten into you two? You two are acting like you’re in a rut!” You squeak.
Neuvillette chuckles, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to worry about, dearest. Are we, your lovers, not allowed to savor this moment between us?” Neuvillette asks.
You warily look at Neuvillette. “I’m not against having intimate moments with both of you, but you two are acting strange,” you murmur. “It’s not like you two to display such affection in public. I am not against it, but you two are usually composed.”
Zhongli clears his throat, unbuttoning his shirt to expose his bare chest. “Forgive me, my dear. The perfume you have on is quite intoxicating. I cannot help but feel like I’m under a spell when I catch a whiff of the fragrance,” Zhongli says, now standing at the edge of the bed.
Zhongli rests one knee on the bed before grabbing you by the ankles. Without warning, Zhongli yanks you towards the edge, emitting a surprised squeak from you. Zhongli chuckles and rubs your cheek with his thumb before leaning down to pepper your face with gentle kisses. Zhongli grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours before pressing his lips against yours.
While you and Zhongli kiss, Neuvillette kneels before you and spreads your legs apart. Neuvillette slides his hands underneath the bands of your shorts before roughly tugging them down to your ankles and tossing them behind him. The Chief Justice of Fontaine then loops his index and middle finger around the bands of your panties, sliding them down your legs, gulping at the sight of your dripping entrance.
Neuvillette licks his lips before spreading your legs wider, leans forward, and latches his lips onto your entrance. You break your and Zhongli’s kiss, gasping when you feel Neuvillette’s warm tongue lapping and swirling at your entrance. Zhongli takes that as an opportunity to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. You softly whimper when Neuvillette penetrates your heat with his tongue while pressing his nose against the engorged and throbbing nerve.
Zhongli groans after freeing his throbbing cocks from his underwear. Your eyes grow wide, completely forgetting that Zhongli has more than one cock. Fuck, how could you forget so easily? Wait, if Zhongli has two of them, does that mean Neuvillette also has two cocks? What if he has more than two?
Zhongli taps your lips with the tip of his cock, signaling you to open your mouth. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Zhongli slides his cock into your mouth, moaning when the warmth of your mouth engulfs his cock. While sucking Zhongli’s cock, you reach for his second cock and begin pumping it at a steady pace. 
You nearly choke on Zhongli’s dick when you feel something penetrate your wet heat. You turn to see Neuvillette gently sliding his index and middle finger into your entrance, slow enough not to hurt you. He stretches your entrance, making sure you’re ready for what’s to come. Zhongli pushes your head down on his cock, making you swallow more. You wince, nearly gagging. You pause for a moment and close your eyes, trying to collect yourself.
You pull away from Zhongli’s cock before bringing the other one into your mouth to continue where you have left off. Zhongli wipes the stray tear in the corner of your eyes, pressing a kiss on your head as a silent apology for being a teeny bit rough on you. Even though he wasn’t rough on you in the slightest, he didn’t want to cause you any discomfort while doing anything intimate with you.
Neuvillette pulls away from your groin, pulling his fingers out of your entrance. Neuvillette sucks on his soaked fingers, maintaining eye contact with you while your mouth is occupied with sucking Zhongli’s second cock. Neuvillette stands up and unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and pulls his pants and underwear down. Unsurprisingly, two cocks spring from the confinement of his pants, slapping his lower abdomen. The mushroom tips of his cock are bright red and leaking with pre-cum. 
Oh, you are not going to make it out alive. Hell, someone’s going to have to carry around Chenyu Vale and back to the abode after today. You subconsciously pull Zhongli’s cock out of your mouth and glance at Zhongli’s cocks, then at Neuvillette’s cocks. Who has bigger dicks between the two of them?
Zhongli raises his eyebrows at you, pulling your hair into a ponytail and tilting your head up. “What are you thinking about?” Zhongli mutters, his voice thick with lust.
You stare at Zhongli, trying to come up with an excuse. Neuvillette chuckles, rubbing his hands on your thighs as he parts your legs. Neuvillette grabs one of his cocks and rubs them against your folds, coating his aching cock with your slick. 
You shake your head, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I wanted to know what’s causing you two to act this way, that’s all,” you finally sputter out an excuse.
Zhongli continues to gaze at you with a raised eyebrow, tapping your bottom lip with the tip of his cock. You reluctantly open your mouth, still hoping that Zhongli bought your poor excuse of a response. While you are curious about what made Zhongli and Neuvillette act so strange, like an animal in a rut, you don’t want the two men to get competitive over who has a bigger package. 
After a few minutes of Neuvillette rubbing his cock between your folds, Neuvillette nudges your entrance with the bulbous tip of his cock. You’re too busy sucking and licking Zhongli’s cock to notice that Neuvillette is about to bury his cock inside you. Without warning, Neuvillette slides his thick cock into your pulsating entrance. The smooth and moist walls of your entrance clenches around Neuvillette’s cock, making him tense and bury his face into your neck, groaning. After Neuvillette is balls deep inside you, he relaxes and reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 
“You’re very tight; relax for me, dearest,” Neuvillette murmurs into your ears, his chest rapidly rising and falling. 
You whimper, taking Zhongli’s cock out of your mouth while writhing beneath Neuvillette’s body. “It hurts, Neuvillette,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you dig your nails into his back.
Neuvillette kisses the side of your head as he reassures you. Neuvillette reaches down and starts pinching and rubbing your swollen bundle of nerves. You squeeze and pulse around his cock, both legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You and Neuvillette groan when Neuvillette is now buried at the hilt. 
Neuvillette wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you farther up the bed. Neuvillette lays on his back with you lying on top of him. He tangles his fingers in your hair before crashing his lips against yours. While you and Neuvillette are messily making out, Zhongli completely strips off his clothes and comes up behind you.
Zhongli lifts his hand and slaps your right ass cheek, causing you to jolt and break the kiss between you and Neuvillette. Zhongli chuckles and shakes his head, placing both hands on your waist before gently bouncing you on Neuvillette’s cock. You softly moan, slowly riding Neuvillette’s cock with the help of Zhongli. 
Once you’re used to Neuvillette’s size, you start to take over, increasing the speed. Neuvillette wraps one arm around your waist while the other is on your shoulder, forcing you to stay in one place as he pistons his cock into your wet heat. 
Your slick trails down your leg, soaking Neuvillette’s pubic hairs and lap. Neuvillette takes the opportunity to slide his second cock into the same hole, causing you to tense and dig your nails into his shoulders.
Zhongli spreads your ass cheeks and spits. He reaches down and gathers your slick and rubs your ass hole. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t know that it was going to happen today. You squeeze your eyes shut and bury your face in Neuvillette’s neck after feeling Zhongli’s cock probing at your ass. 
Zhongli slowly inserts his cock, stretching out your ass. You groan and bite down on Neuvillette’s shoulders, sending shivers down Neuvillette’s spine. As Zhongli continues to slowly sink his cock into your ass, Neuvillette licks your neck and takes a deep whiff of the intoxicating scent of your skin and the perfume. Neuvillette continues to thrust his cocks into your entrance; the sound of skin-to-skin and squelching fills the air, accompanied by occasional moans and whimpers from the three of you.
Zhongli gathers your hair into a ponytail and tilts your head to the side, revealing your neck to him. Zhongli leans down and presses his nose against your neck, taking deep breaths before letting out a breathy moan in your ears. Zhongli squeezes your chest with his unoccupied hand, rutting into your backside.
Zhongli and Neuvillette make eye contact and glare at each other. Zhongli looks away, gritting his teeth while Neuvillette continues to hammer his cocks into your heat. Zhongli stares at your neck for a moment, gradually slowing his pace. 
Should he do it? Zhongli shakes his head, trying to ignore the voices in his head that are trying to convince him to mark you— claim you as his and only his. Zhongli thrusts hard, causing you to jolt forward and moan like an absolute whore. 
“Fuck, Zhongli!” You whine, blindly reaching behind you to grip his bicep.
Fuck it. Zhongli buries his face into your neck and bites down on your neck. Your eyes widen, and you let out a strained gasp, whimpering in pain. Tears pool in your eyes the harder Zhongli bites down on your neck, drawing blood.
Neuvillette glares at Zhongli before mimicking Zhongli’s actions. The Chief Justice of Fontaine gently kisses the other side of your neck before biting your neck just as hard as Zhongli. You wail, thrashing in Zhongli and Neuvillette’s arms as they refuse to let go of your neck. You feel warm liquid gushing from your neck and streaming down your collarbones and chest.
It takes you approximately five minutes to realize that there’s a tight knot forming in your lower abdomen the more Zhongli and Neuvillette continue to piston their two cocks into your holes while biting your neck like a feral animal. Before you know it, the knot in your lower abdomen snaps, sending you into momentary bliss as you cum around Neuvillette’s cocks.
You don’t remember what happens after that. If you have to think hard, you’re certain that Zhongli and Neuvillette switch places to continue to rail you through the night at the inn. Whoever’s in the nearby rooms, you sincerely apologize for causing a disturbance with your two lovers. You really hope you won’t get a complaint letter or call from the innkeeper. 
- Present -
Kazuha waves his hand in front of your face after you blanked out for who knows how long. “Hello? Are you still here with us?” Kazuha teasingly asks, chuckling.
You snap out of your thoughts and clear your throat, looking away. There’s no way in hell you’re telling them the truth about how you got the bite marks on your neck. Albedo and Baizhu nudge the others away from you to give them room to inspect the bite marks on your neck. Baizhu sighs and tilts your head side to side to get a better look while Changsheng scrutinizes you— oh, the snake knows the perpetrators. You give the snake a pleading look, hoping she won’t rat Neuvillette and Zhongli out.
Changsheng shakes her head with disapproval. “It’ssss quite obvioussss how [Y/N] received thosssse markssss on their neck,” Changsheng says, twisting her head to glance over at Neuvillette and Zhongli, narrowing her eyes at them.
“Oh? And who do you think it could be, Changsheng?” Lyney asks, raising his eyebrows at the white snake draping over Baizhu’s shoulders with interest and curiosity. 
You contemplate whether you should lunge at Changsheng to keep her mouth shut, but you decide not to do it because you know that will make you look suspicious— well, even more suspicious than you already seem. Albedo hums, cleaning the bite marks on your neck before briefly pausing.
You look at Albedo, worried, “What’s with that look on your face?”
Albedo chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N]. But the bite marks around your neck should be healed within a few days to a week. Depending on how deep the bites are, it could take up to almost a month for it to be healed,” Albedo says, handing the white gauze to Baizhu.
You’re not entirely sure if the bites will heal because when you glanced in the mirror, the bite marks were glowing. Even though the ache didn’t last as long, it does ache a lot— probably not as much as yesterday, but it’s aching. 
“The two of you bit [Y/N], didn’t you?” Wriothesley asks, raising his eyebrows at Zhongli and Neuvillette, the corner of his lips quirking up.
Neuvillette clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I would do no such thing,” Neuvillette replies.
Everyone in the room raises their eyebrows at the Chief Justice of Fontaine, not believing his response. Zhongli, on the other hand, sighs and chooses not to reply to Wriothesley’s comment. Despite choosing to stay silent, the red ears and cheekbones say another.
Childe pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, glaring at Zhongli and Neuvillette, steam practically coming from his ears. You shut your eyes, hoping no one will start a fight after discovering who marked you.
“I can’t believe you two marked [Y/N] before I did!” Childe exclaims. “I should be the first one to do it, not you two!”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, temples beginning to throb as more people start to shout in agreement. Great, now your body is going to be littered with marks from these men. It’s not like you mind it… you’re just worried about who will try to make theirs more prominent for other people to see. You peek at Zhongli and Neuvillette, only to see them subtly smile at each other. Your mouth is agape after realization dawns on you. 
They planned this entire thing.
Note: I understand that Neuvillette is probably not older than Teyvat like Zhongli, but for the sake of this fic, he is now. Wow, this is the final fanfic of the year and the first smut in forever. My goal for 2025 is to hopefully write and post more fanfics! And catch up with Genshin and HSR quests. The next fanfic I will be posting after this one is a Love&Deepspace one! Oh! Before I reopen my Discord server, I am looking for new moderators for my server! So, if you are interested in being a moderator for my server, here is the link to the form [HERE]! The deadline is January 7th, 2025! ^^ If you are chosen, I or one of my moderators will contact you through either Tumblr, Discord, or AO3 before the server is reopened! Anyway, To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Taglist: @uniquecutie-puffs, @rubyninja1, @loveariel
Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
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traveler-at-heart · 7 months ago
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Miss Communication
Summary: Natasha is avoiding the feelings talk so you use the only thing that seems to be working: jealousy.
A/N: This request and entire plot is from @happychopshoppenguin so all credit really goes to them. I just put into a few more words.
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
Stealthy, precise, lethal.
Well, what a load of crap. All Natasha Romanoff is, is a coward. There.
You’re so pissed off, all you want to do is open up her file and write “committment issues” under weaknesses.
But that’s not your job.
No, your job is intelligence and data analysis. Go over information, read endless reports and make a summary that the Avengers can understand, because they don’t have the time to sit around and do it themselves.
And now, you’re here, talking about a new terrorist organization with Steve. Natasha should be here, as second in command, but for reasons unknown to you and Captain America, she has failed to show up.
Again, coward.
Fine, if she doesn’t answer your texts you’ll find her anywhere she’s hiding in this big ass building.
“Hey, Y/N” Sam greets as you walk down the hall.
“Damn. Is it allowed to have guns in the kitchen area?” you smile mischiveously, used to flirting around with the team. He looks around, clearly confused and you reach out to touch his bicep. “I mean, what are they feeding you, Wilson? You’re as buff as Steve”
“Hell, yeah” he smiles, flexing and putting on a little show. You’re laughing and making small talk when someone magically appears, glaring.
Natasha is fuming and you don’t know if the anger is directed at you or Sam. Looking directly at her, you laugh and place a strand of hair behind your ear, as if Sam just said the funniest thing ever.
She can’t answer a fucking text but feels jealous? Well, good. At least you know she cares.
“You’re annoying her, Wilson” Bucky joins you, leaning against the kitchen island and giving you a crooked smile. “Hey, doll”
“Hi, handsome” you place your hands on each side of his face. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah” he says, practically drooling.
“I think you’d look really good if you cut your hair”
“I’ll think about it” he promises.
“Move aside, I’m taking Y/N out for lunch” Sam says, pushing Bucky.
“Oh, sweetheart. You can’t handle all of this” you tease. “But I won’t say no to lunch”
“That’s good enough for me” he agrees, offering his arm. You take it, winking at Bucky and walking away.
Natasha is already planning six different ways to make Wilson disappear, and Bucky goes to his room.
“Gotta get a haircut” he mumbles.
Oh, like hell.
Neither one of them can touch what’s hers.
Natasha: How was lunch?
Y/N: Oh, NOW you text me?
Y/N: We need to talk. Call me.
Natasha throws the phone across the room, feeling like screaming into her pillow. It still smells like you, which makes her heart ache.
If only she hadn’t been so stupid to ruin whatever it is you two had.
You were on top of her, riding her strap, as you had done so many times since you started your situationship. Hands on Natasha’s abdomen, feeling how her muscles worked to pump in and out of you.
“I love your tits” Natasha said, breathless. You nodded, bouncing harder, moaning desperately. “I love your pussy, it’s perfect for my cock”
“Baby, I’m so close” you whined, so desperate you barely registered her next words.
“I love you”
Eyes wide open, your movements stopped for a second. Before you could answer, Natasha flipped you and you were face down, ass in the air as she entered, pounding harder.
And you really wanted to ask what the fuck and if she really meant what she said, but you were so close that all you could do was moan her name and come hard around the strap.
You barely registered when Natasha pulled out. You felt empty and confused and so stretched.
“Nat? Babe, wait”
“I have to… I forgot a mission report, I’m sorry” she muttered, putting her clothes on and leaving in a hurry. She ran out of her own fucking room before owning what she said.
And now, she couldn’t even look at you. She couldn’t stand the idea that you would reject her.
The little hope that lingered in the back of her mind was the most painful feeling of all.
All she wanted was to be loved by you.
Call me means fucking call me.
It means don’t pretend nothing happened.
God, she’s so infuriating. And hot. And good at sex.
But mostly infuriating.
Now you’re back in the Compound, determined to get her to talk to you. Which is why you decided to wear your low cut dress and push up bra.
She said she loves your breasts, right? Well, here they fucking are.
You carry a bunch of binders that need filing, and they help cover your boobs as you enter the living room. Natasha is sitting, and you think she is almost ready to approach you when Sam beats her to it.
“Here, let me help you” Sam offers. The minute your cleavage comes to view, his eyes widen.
“Hey, doll” Bucky greets and you turn around. His mouth flails open, but all you can do is admire his new look.
“Buck, oh my God! You actually listened to me?” you run your hands through his hair, making it impossible for him to look away from your chest. “You look absolutely stunning. Good boy”
“Yeah, uh… I…”
The interaction annoys Natasha, but she knows you won’t even entertain the idea of doing anything with those two.
Her mood quickly changes when Carol appraches you. She's a whole different story.
“Carol, it’s been ages since you’ve been here! All I read are your mission briefings” you say, hugging her tight.
“Well, how bout I tell you everything I’ve been up to over dinner?” she offers with a smile.
“Y/N” Natasha finally snaps. “I missed this week’s report. Mind filling me in?”
“Sure thing” you pull away, reluctantly. “Be right back, Danvers”
Natasha leads you to the conference room and pushes you against the door as soon as you enter.
“Why must you be such a brat?” she whispers against your ear, biting down your earlobe.
“It's the only way to get your attention, Natasha” you protest, trying to sound upset.
You’re torn between lust and anger, but she’s such a good kisser that her lips make you forget everything that’s happened in the last few days.
“I should punish you” she threatens, going down your body and pulling the dress up. Who is she kidding? Her mouth is watering at the thought of tasting you. “Bet you’d love that”
Love.
The word pulls you out of your trance. Natasha is about to take your panties off when you stop her, pulling her away by her hair.
“We’re going to talk”
“You don’t make the calls here”
“Natasha, stop it. I’m serious”
You really don’t want her to stop, but you can’t keep wondering if she meant it.
You want her to mean it.
“Are you seriously gonna make a big deal about it?”
“Ugh, you drive me insane, Natasha. Why can’t you just admit what you said and whether or not you meant it? Do you even care about what I want?”
She stays silent and you groan, pulling up your dress and fixing your clothes.
“I really wanted to be more than just fuck buddies” you admit before going out. “But if the thought of loving me is so embarassing for you, then forget about it. I won’t force the feeling out of you”
Natasha stays behind, wondering how she got it all wrong.
You wanted her.
By the time she comes to her senses, you’re long gone. But Carol does meet her in the hallway, smiling.
“Hey, do you mind telling Cap I’m skipping our meeting? Y/N and I are having dinner”
“Sure” Natasha nods, feeling her stomach drop.
Now it’s too late and she lost you.
The second anniversary of the Sokovian Accords comes and goes in a flash. Natasha really wanted to skip it, go find you and apologize.
And yet, here she is, in the Quinjet, flying back to the Compound after two days of exhausting diplomacy.
“Why couldn’t we stay a few days in Paris?” Sam laments for the third time.
“New recruits are in the middle of their training” Barton says from the pilot seat. “At least they got a break these last couple of days”
 “No, they didn’t” Wanda says. “Y/N is training them. Maria asked her to do it before we left”
“Y/N?” everyone says, looking at each other.
“But she’s a data analyst, not a field agent” Sam says.
“And the sweetest person ever” Bucky adds. He holds Natasha’s glare and smiles. Oh, he knows what’s up.
“Well, let’s make sure we put them back into shape when we get there” Steve slaps Bucky’s arm.
Boy, are they all wrong. When the team goes back to the Compound, you’re in the middle of a training session. A guy runs out of the gym, his shoulder crashing against Sam’s as he bolts for the exit.
“She’s fucking crazy, man” he says to himself, looking terrified.
“What the hell?”
Steve pushes the door to the gym. And there you are, in the middle of sparring. With one swift motion you kick the guy to the floor, and he puts his hands up, as if begging for mercy.
“Oh, we have company” you taunt, walking confidently around the students. “Anyone want to fight the Avengers? I promise you they’re not as hard to beat”
“Who is she and what has she done to Y/N?” Barton whispers.
Natasha has to hold back a moan. You look cold and deathly, having kicked all of their asses without breaking a sweat. That also explains why you’re so… bendy.
“Fine. Since none of you could even land a hit on me, you’re running ten laps. Don’t come back here unless you’ve thrown up or cried once”
All the recruits scramble to their feet, relieved now that they can get away from you. You turn around, giving the Avengers a challenging look.
“What? Wanna give it a try? I’ll go easy on you” you say. “Maybe not on Natasha, though. She hasn’t been a good girl”
“Ew” Wanda says, leaving the room. Between that and Natasha’s bendy thought, that was so loud she might as well have screamed it in the middle of the gym, she’s had enough.
“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got” Barton is the only one that steps up. You nod, evaluating his approach. He throws the first punch but it never lands. You move out of his way at record speed, keeping the contact at minimum while you kick the back of his legs, making him fall on his knees. Another three blows and Clint is face down on the mat.
“Pass” Sam says when you turn around to see who’s next.
“I’ll take my chances” Natasha says, stepping up. You smile in a way that makes a chill run down her spine.
Natasha thinks you can never go wrong with a classic move, so she throws her legs around your neck. But you block the movement and make her land on her back, hands pinned abover her head.
It happens at least three different times, each position becoming more sexual.
“I think we should leave” Bucky says.
“In a minute”
“Come on, Wilson” he forces him out the door, closing it for good measure and hoping you keep your clothes on before the recruits come back.
If they even come back.
“I promise you, you’re not gonna win this time, Natasha” you say, out of breath for the first time. Her eyes travel to your lips and you lean forward, stopping inches away from her mouth. “And I sure as hell ain’t letting you go without talking about that thing you said the other day”
“Please…”
“Now you’re polite. Now you say please. I’ve been chasing you for a fucking week to know if you like me for more than my tits and ass” you finally give in, kissing her for a few seconds. She whines against your mouth, trying to create friction. But your hold is too strong and she can’t move an inch without your permission.
“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry. I was scared you’d reject me and then everything would be ruined forever between us. I love you, so damn much it scares me” Natasha finally breaks, surprising herself with the way she’s pouring her heart out to you.
But that’s how much she loves you and how much she needs you.
Her words leave you breathless and you smile, going back to being your usual self.
“Natasha, I love you so damn much, it drives me crazy. Please don’t ever doubt that, sweetheart”
She nods, her nose rubbing against yours and you finally do what you’ve been craving all week. You kiss her, gently at first, and then more passionately, your hands dropping from hers to let her hug you.
You moan against her mouth, Natasha’s tongue slipping inside.
“Fuck, baby, I need you” you moan, going back to being submissive for the redhead.
“What does my pretty girl want? My mouth or my fingers?”
“Just you, anything, please”
Thinking back to the last time she almost had you, her mouth waters and she decides to flip you on your back and travel down your body, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses and pulling down your shorts and underwear.
“All of this for me?” she asks, running her fingers up and down your slit, collecting your juices and sucking on her digit. “I missed your taste, princess”
“Nat, please” you cant your hips up, hoping she takes the hint. You’re too far gone to form a coherent sentence.
Natasha darts her tongue out. She moans at the taste, and snakes her arms around your thighs to keep you in place. Her tongue goes up and down, then deep inside you and you shudder.
You would almost feel embarrassed for lasting so little, but it’s not your fucking fault she was hiding for a week.
When you remember that, your hands go to her hair and you pull her closer. Natasha enjoys the roughness, her movements speeding up and pushing you over the edge.
You come, crying out her name and trembling. As you struggle to catch your breath, Natasha moves up, letting you taste yourself in her mouth.
“Hey, baby”
“Hey” you say, smiling.
“Can I take you out to dinner tonight? I’d like to make it up to you”
“Yes to dinner. And give me a couple more of those orgasms and we’ll call it even”
“That sounds like a deal” she smiles against your lips, eager to make up for the lost time.
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withleeknow · 4 months ago
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lost cause.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, kinda angsty idk?; unedited bc we live just to suffer, erhm i don't think there's a lot of warnings here, open to interpretation if oc is depressed 🤔; basically “it's rotten work,” “not to me. not if it’s you,” + that one scene in nobody wants this (if you’ve watched the show you’ll know what i’m talking about) word count: 0.6k listen to 🎧: risk - gracie abrams
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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“i think i’m starting to hate myself again.”
your voice is casual when you say it, indifferent, nonchalant, as if you’re merely bringing up the weather or reading from a shopping list. you’re used to it by now — the fact that it comes and goes, that if there are highs then there must be lows too. that sometimes, there are no good days, just better ones.
you know minho hasn’t fallen asleep because you still feel him playing with your hair while you lay on his chest, his index finger twisting a lock around before letting it fall over your back. he doesn’t falter, not even once. no change in his calming breathing, no sign that he’s all too surprised by your sudden announcement. you suppose he’s used to it as much as you are.
he’s quiet for a while, like the night outside the comfort of your bedroom. the weather forecast warned you of thunderstorms, but everything remained still and safe. there wasn’t even a spark of lightning to be found.
when minho finally speaks, only a simple “okay,” comes out, followed by a question. “then i’ll love you more to make up for it. how much time do you need? couple weeks?”
you shake your head. “longer,” you say.
“couple months?”
a beat of silence. another shake. “longer.”
“couple years?” he asks. no hesitation. “couple decades?”
minho can’t see you from this position, but you can hear the sound of his heart. he’s steady and secure and you’re nothing more than a fickle flame that’s always on the verge of going out.
“you can’t handle it,” you tell him. “better to quit while you’re ahead.”
it would be so easy, wouldn’t it? for him to pack up before he realizes somewhere down the line that he’s wasted his time and effort on a lost cause?
“i know what you’re doing, by the way. stop that.”
you pretend to ask, “what am i doing?”
before you know it, he’s already managed to flip the both of you over. he’s hovering over you with his forearms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in, chest to chest, and his hips pressed flush against yours.
“i told you i’m not going anywhere,” minho says, brushing some hair away from your face. “stop trying to get me to leave.”
you blink. he’s so close and oh so warm, so beautiful as he stares down at you, so patient and kind when you’re telling him that you need him to love the parts that even you can’t bring yourself to love.
your hands settle on his shoulders. “don’t blame me when you regret it.”
“i won’t regret it. not if it’s you.”
then he’s kissing you, soft and slow, and that’s when you finally hear the first roar of thunder that should’ve arrived hours ago. he kisses you like he was made for you — or you for him, you’re not really sure, but it can’t possibly matter that much.
“so?” minho prompts after he’s pulled away, “how long?”
his eyes are sparkling and you’re still a little dazed. lightheaded but you know that you’ll always love him the most, know that you’re pushing it, know that you’re asking for what many would never be willing to give. “what if i say i’ll need you for the rest of my life?”
his lips curl into a tender smile, one that he presses to your mouth once again. you taste devotion in the kiss, in the way one of his hands crosses the short distance to hold your face so delicately it makes your heart hurt.
“i’ll love you more for the rest of our lives then.”
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 30.10.2024]
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yailtsv · 1 month ago
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Can you please do a fox where Blakey is hurt or sick and Paige and azzi take care of her
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Sick - p.b & a.f
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💌 Syn: P & A take care of Blakely while she is sick
»»— warnings: poly! sickness, puke, hospitals, i.v, ect..
»»— notes: the internets the one that told me the fever thing and i know the internet lies so idk if that’s all true 🤷‍♀️ i also got carried away writing this but i gave up on proofreading lmao
»»— word count: 3.3k
»»— pair: pazzi x gf!oc || Blakely Doe
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azzi and paige both woke up to the bed being cold, which never happens as blakely is always asleep in the middle of the bed between both of them.
so as you can assume they were both equally confused and even more so when they realized it was only 5:30am, when practice wasn’t until 8am and it was a saturday so the three of them didn’t have any classes today.
not to mention - blakely is NOT a morning person! she’ll sleep until 3pm if she doesn’t have anything going on that day
so blakely not being in bed and between them where she’s supposed to be was both confusing and concerning for the two girls
“where’s rosie?” paige rasps out to azzi with her morning voice while sitting up slowly on her elbows, using the nickname her and azzi have called blakely since they met “i don’t know” azzi says confused looking around the room for any sign of blakely
“here, you lay back down, i’m gonna go find her. “ azzi says already getting up starting to walk around the bed and to the door “are you sure? i can help look” paige rasps, slowly waking up more “i got it” azzi says looking back at paige “ok, if you need me, call for me. i’ll still be awake.” paige says laying back down on the bed
azzi nods to what paige said and then walks out of paige’s dorm bedroom and down to the living room / kitchen area thinking maybe blakely just wanted a late snack…nope
azzi looked everywhere for her in the small dorm and didn’t find her girlfriend anywhere - looked everywhere except for the bathroom, which honestly should’ve been the first place she looked
azzi makes her way to the bathroom seeing the door is shut but there is no light on, making her confused even more, rightfully so - blakely’s scared of the dark
azzi knockes on the door and gets no answer back making her slowly open the door and reach her hand in to turn on the light - only to see blakely sitting on the floor in front of the toilet with her head resting on the toilet seat looking to be asleep, azzi immediately runs over to blake while yelling for paige not caring about jana and allie still being asleep
“PAIGE! COME HERE!” azzi yells while pulling blakely off of the toilet and letting b rest against her legs, while azzi holds blake there making sure she won’t fall forward and hit her head on the toilet. paige comes running in and sees blake unconscious being held up by azzis legs and azzi of course, with her few day old straightened hair tangled up with puke all in her hair and all on her
“what happened?! is she ok?” paige stresses walking closer to her two girlfriends and kneeling down next to blake “i don’t know i just found her with her head resting on the toilet seat and unconscious” azzi says starting to stress but trying to keep it underwraps
“baby hey, blakely” paige says tapping blakely’s face a few times trying to get her to wake up - which didn’t work because blakely could sleep through anything including earthquakes and tornadoes
paige and azzi both try to wake blakely up and after a few stressful minutes eventually succeeded “hi baby, can you tell us what happened?” paige asks while holding blakely’s cheek - slowly rubbing her thumb over blakely’s cheek bone
blakely doesn’t answer and instead just closes her eyes and leans her face more into paige’s hand and her body more into azzi’s touch - finding their touch comforting
“mama hey, let’s get you in the bath and then we can go to bed alright?” azzi says leaning down some to make her be closer to blakely
blakely just groans in response not wanting to move at all knowing her stomach pain is gonna come back right when she moves
paige just stands up and turns the water on for the bath and azzi starts helping blakely get her clothes off, both ignoring her groans of protest and just continuing with what they were doing
“alright a warm bath with bubbles and a bath bomb is ready for you” paige says coming back over to blakely and azzi - helping azzi into lifting blakely up gently as to not upset her stomach
paige helped blake get her pants off while azzi held her up, and then azzi helped blake get into the tub and sit down.
“i’m gonna go get her some clothes” azzi mumbles to paige watching blakely immediately put her head on the side of the tub, paige nods signaling that she heard azzi and squats down by the tub, running her hand over blakely’s back “hi baby, i’m gonna wash your hair ok? i’m gonna need you to sit up for me, just for a little bit then you can lay your head back down alright?” paige says in a low tone, knowing that when blakely’s sick she always ends up getting super bad migraines, she doesn’t know if blake has a headache right now or not as blakely’s gone non verbal, so she’s just treating it like she does have a headache just in case.
blakely still doesn’t say anything, she just slowly lifts her head up, allowing paige to wash her hair.
while paige was washing blake’s hair, azzi came back in and set a pile of clothes and a towel on the sink, she then also squated down beside paige and started rubbing blakely’s back
“how are you feeling now baby?” azzi asks lowly but getting no answer in return “mama hey” paige says pausing her scrubbing and trying to make eye contact with blake - blake eventually turning her head slowly
“how are you feeling now?” paige re asks azzi’s question, with blakely only shaking her head side to side as her answer.
“do you think you can keep down medicine?” azzi asks still rubbing blakely’s back - once again blakely just shook her head side to side as a way of saying no
“is there anything you need or want?” paige asks as she’s now rinsing the shampoo out of blakely’s hair
blakely still doesn’t talk and just shakes her head again, paige and azzi look at each other for a minute concerned as blakely has never acted like this while she’s sick - she normally just is clingy and wants attention 24/7, making them realize she’s a lot sicker then she normally gets every once in awhile.
paige and azzi help get blakely clean, dried, and dressed before azzi has blake sit on the toilet so she can braid her hair, and get it out of the way in case blakely throws up again
while azzi was doing that, paige went back to the room and started up the tv, putting it on descendants - one of blakely’s favorite movies, and grabbed 2 small trash cans putting it on either side of the bed, knowing blakely’s still gonna want to be in the middle close to both of them
“alright there we go rosie” paige can hear azzi say from the bathroom down the hall, making her set down the water bottle she had just grabbed onto the night stand, and walk towards the bathroom
“you guys done?” paige asks as she sees blakely shakily walk forward “she’s gonna brush her teeth and then we’re done” azzi says trailing behind blakely in case she loses balance
paige nods in response “i’m gonna go make some coffee, figured we’re gonna be up for a little bit” she finishes while standing up from leaning against the door frame
azzi nods showing that she heard paige but kept her attention on blake. paige then walked to the kitchen making enough coffee for her and azzi, + jana and allie if they wanted any
paige could hear azzi helping blakely back into her bedroom and was trying to hurry with the coffee - just wanting to be with both her girlfriends and be able to comfort her sick girlfriend, so while the coffee was brewing she started preparing the mugs, putting sugar, creamer, all that stuff in and then pouring the coffee and stirring it together, once the coffee was done.
she grabbed those two mugs and carefully walked to her room, seeing azzi and blakely in their normal spots, with b’s head resting on azzi’s chest both watching tiktok off of azzi’s phone
paige just walked to the bed carefully giving azzi her coffee, before getting on the bed and under the covers - moving her free arm to lay behind blakely signaling to both of them to move closer to her - which they both do obviously
once they were all comfortable, azzi pressed play on the movie, blakely letting the sound of her comfort movie lull her to sleep.
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sleep didn’t last long. she was able to get an hour & 30 minutes before she woke up gagging, paige immediately sat up from talking to azzi and grabbed the trash can putting it under blakely’s mouth just in time.
azzi rubs blake’s back while paige is whispering soft nothings to blakely - wanting to comfort her as paige knows blakely hates getting sick especially in front of people including her two girlfriends that she’s known for years
“you done?” paige asks after a few minutes of blakely just catching her breath, blakely takes a minute to decide and then nods her head slowly - making paige set the trash can back on the floor and grab the water from earlier, opening it, and handing it to blakely
while she was taking a drink, azzi decided to go get the thermometer and see just how sick blakely is,
“we have to get her fever down now or take her to the hospital. it’s way to high.” azzi says after looking at the thermometer once it beeped
“how high?” paige asks already standing up to try to help “101.2 if it gets to 103 or higher she’s definitely going to the hospital - if we’re not already there. i don’t care if we get in trouble for missing practice.”
“no, no hospital” blakely groans out trying to lay back down but can’t get comfortable. paige and azzi both moved closer and started trying to help blake get more comfortable
once they were done azzi sat at the edge of her side of the bed, putting her hand on top of blakely’s “we won’t take you yet, but if your fever doesn’t go down or it gets higher, we’re gonna have to. you already have a 101 fever baby. we will both be with you, i promise. you won’t be alone ok?” azzi tries to soothingly say as she knows blakely is also petrified of hospitals
blakely doesn’t respond to her and just turns to look at paige, using her doe eyes on her knowing those are paige’s weakness “i’m sorry mama, she’s right. you’re really sick baby”
blakely just huffs and tries to turn over onto her stomach so she doesn’t have to look at them - she struggles for a little bit and paige and azzi obviously voice their opinions but, blakely eventually succeeds in rolling over all by herself
“rosie-“ azzi starts but gets cut off “no” blakely responds back, already knowing what she’s gonna say and not wanting to hear those said words. paige and azzi both make eye contact behind blakely’s back and start lip reading each other - trying to figure what to do
“alright baby, if you don’t want to end up having to go to the hospital then we need to get your fever down by a lot, so cold wet rags and ice packs or a ice bath?” paige says putting her hands on her hips - looking at her stubborn sick girlfriend “neither” blakely grumbles into the pillow
“alright i’ll get the necessities for the hospital” paige said starting to walk out of the bedroom “no hospitals!” blakely yells into the pillow “ok then cold wet rags and ice packs or a ice bath?” paige sasses back
blakely groans into the pillow which ends up in a coughing fit making azzi who’s still sitting in the same spot, start patting her back to try to help her
once she was done coughing paige walked back to the bed laying down in her spot and looking at blakely “rosie look at me” paige says putting her hand on blakely’s back and gently rubbing her lower back while azzi’s still rubbing her upper back
blakely didn’t respond in any way making paige sigh “baby”
“mama, cmon” paige says but ends up more of demanding it, blakely slowly turns her head to look at paige and immediately made eye contact with her piercing blue eyes
“we just want to help you, you know that. we wouldn’t suggest the hospital if we didn’t feel like it was necessary. your fever is at 101.2 right now ok? if we can bring it down and keep it down then we don’t have to go to the hospital but if your fever gets to 103 and up we have to go, it’s not up for discussion.” paige starts and she can see blakely about to complain and starts talking again before blakely has the chance “you know we wouldn’t leave you alone there, i know you do. we’ll be right by your side the whole time ok?” paige says in a soft voice trying to get blakely to understand how serious her fever is.
blakely doesn’t respond for a minute, just looking at paige while thinking of a decision while azzi and paige both keep rubbing her back, blakely eventually nods her head “i’ll go if needed” she grumbles out “thank you baby.” paige says leaning in and kissing the top of blakely’s head “do you want to take a ice bath or..?” azzi now asks making blakely groan into the pillow again as she didn’t learn her lesson last time
after blakely’s done with her second coughing fit paige and azzi both manually roll blakely over, so that she can actually breath and so she can’t groan into the pillow anymore
paige and azzi both just stare at blake - wanting an answer, making blakely sigh and look between both of them “rags and ice packs i guess”
paige stands up from the bed saying that she’ll be back and walks out of the bedroom going to the kitchen to get ice packs, while paige is doing that azzi gets up to get cold wet rags
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it’s now been almost two hours since azzi took blakely’s temperature and that whole argument. after paige and azzi put wet rags and ice packs all over blakely’s body all three of them ended up watching more movies until they all fell asleep - 2 of them fell asleep on accident and neither of them called geno telling him what’s happening
azzi woke up before the other two and was confused before she looked at the bed and saw her two girlfriends asleep on the bed - realizing that her and paige accidentally fell asleep which was fine until she also remembered the said fact that they didn’t call geno, making her scramble to grab her phone seeing multiple missed calls and unread texts from everyone on the team
azzi quickly sent a message to geno and cd explaining everything - which is what reminded her to check blakely’s temperature
104.3
“paige! paige get up” azzi says while shaking paige making her wake up startled “what? what happened” she groaned out “blakely’s fever is to 104.3, we need to get her to a hospital now” azzi says with urgency making paige sit up and look at blake realizing how pale she looks
both paige and azzi put there crocs on and wake blakely up - that was a mistake
right when they successfully woke blake up she immediately started gagging making azzi rush to put a trash can under her mouth, paige was rubbing her back as a way to comfort blakely but it wasn’t working and blakely couldn’t stop puking
after a few minutes of non stop puking and then dry heaves,blakely was finally able to get a break and during that break azzi put blakeys slides on her and grabbed the clean trash can for the car ride to the hospital
paige carefully picked up blakely knowing that blake would be walking slow to the car and then end up puking again before they made it to the car, so she was going to carry her
blakely lays her head on paige’s shoulder while paige follows behind azzi as she’s the one opening the doors for paige to get through with blake. once they reach paige’s car paige sets blakely in the backseat with azzi sitting back there with her - holding the trash can in front on blakely while paige gets into the drivers seat and takes them to the hospital
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once they made it to the hospital they were checked in and seen pretty fast, now blakely’s laying in the hospital bed with an i.v in her hand asleep while paige and azzi sit in the chairs by the hospital bed, each holding one of her hands and watching whatever shows on their hospital rooms tv
the doctor put her on some medicine but still wanted to monitor her over night so they were all going to stay the night at the hospital, paige planned on getting food and going home to get clothes and necessities once blakely woke up so she could also have a say in lunch so they were just waiting on blakely, which after a few more minutes eventually started to slowly wake up
“hey rosie” azzi said with a low voice being the first to notice her waking up, making paige look to her side to also see blakely waking up “good morning mama” paige says even though it’s the late afternoon now, blakely just groans in response - the light in the hospital room blinding her and making her headache worse
azzi seems to understand what’s wrong and gets up to turn the light off, “better?” she asks sitting down in her seat making blakely nod “how are you feeling?” paige asks rubbing her thumb over blakes knuckles “like crap” blakely rasps out before going into another coughing fit
azzi pats blakely’s back while paige holds a bucket under blake’s mouth just in case - eventually she stops coughing and the two of them continue to talk to blakely, mentioning getting stuff from home and food
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it’s now the next day, blakely has been released from the hospital with instructions to rest and to take her prescribed medication and she should be good in the next 3-4 days - which paige and azzi where going to make sure blakely listened and did everything she was supposed to do
they had just gotten back to paige’s dorm and azzi was helping blakely up to paige’s room while paige was carrying their shared overnight bag, food to eat now, and a few bags of snacks and soft foods for the next few days
jana and allie were out at practice for today so it was just the three of them for right now. while azzi was helping blakely get comfortable on the bed paige was once again turning the tv onto a disney movie - this time being lemonade mouth
once the movie was on she sat down on her spot of the bed and passed the food around.
after around 25 minutes they eventually found themselves in a cuddling pile with blakely in the middle and paige and azzi hugging onto her, rubbing her stomach, playing with the ends of her hair, or gently kissing blakely’s forehead while whispering soft praises of love to her, with eventually all three of them falling asleep in each others arms
that’s how jana and allie found them 2 hours later
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🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @ldapper @authentic-girl03
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eddiesxangel · 1 year ago
Text
Fool Me Once | Eddie Munson x Reader
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Anonymous Asked: Eddie being your first everything and first boyfriend and reader is like kinda awkward or something. Then Eddie gets really drunk and gets home to reader and starts yelling at her saying like “You’re only dating me because you don’t want to be a sad loser virgin.” and she gets really sad because she genuinely loves him so much and she starts thinking that he doesn’t love her at all… Then maybe the day after he can’t find reader anywhere and maybe she’s like with robin just crying her eyes out.
AN: IDK IDK it’s my first angsty thing I’ve done hope it’s ok 🫣
Cw: angst, hurt no comfort. Small bitty smut. Use of pet names, one use of reference to reader as “my girl”
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“I love you, god, I love you” Eddie slowly pumped his swollen cock in and out of you.
You’ve never felt this wave of pleasure before; no wonder everyone was so hyped about sex.
“Fuck you’re so tight.”
“Baby, please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but the feeling in your lower stomach was starting to build more and more and more until! Euphoria. Euphoria fuelled your body. The wave of pleasure that Eddie just granted you felt indebted to him.
“I love you,” you sigh as your body melts into your boyfriend.
You’ve been with him for almost six months and finally felt ready to give himself to him. You hadn’t slept with anyone until now, and you were so happy you waited. You never felt so close, so in love, so unbelievably happy in this moment. Life was amazing; nothing could ever break this feeling you have.
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Ring ring ring
You were abruptly awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You were fast asleep, and now feeling disoriented, you looked at the clock. It was already 3:38am. You wondered who could be calling you at this late hour. Maybe it was an emergency? Your heart racing, you rushed over to the phone in a state of panic.
"Hello?"
"You little slut"
"Eddie?"
"Who else would it be? Are you expecting a booty call? another guy you want to fuck?"
"I don't understand? What's wrong."
“What's wrong? I'll tell ya what's wrong! You’re only with me, so you’re not some loser virgin, that’s what! Do you think all the guys will want you to know that your cherry is popped? Well, guess what, honey? Now you're just a sad little whore.” He slurred.
“Wha-“
“You think you’re hot shit now? Getting with the freak of Hawkins? Gonna brag about how you fucked the freak?”
“Eddie, what are you talking about?” your voice wobbled.
He was obviously drunk out of his mind, but as they all say, drunk words are a sober man’s thoughts.
“I know how this is going to go… well, not if I beat you to it.”
“I don't understand?”
“I don't understand?” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about!” He yelled, and you cowered. He didn’t care. His voice got louder and louder. “You were a sad loooooser virgin before me! And now you’re just a sad loser who fucked the freak,” he laughed. He actually laughed.
"Eddie-"
“So we are don-”
You hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence.
You couldn't believe this was happening? You gave Eddie everything. You thought he was your everything up until this point. You slept with Eddie for the first time a week ago. Things were good, great, even. Until he went to the hideout tonight without you.
You stayed up the rest of the night because you were in tears about what Eddie said. None of this makes any sense? You always loved Eddie, and you thought he loved you back? How could he be so cruel?
You were woken up from your daze by a knock on your apartment door. You stumbled out of your room, still in your sleep shirt, with puffy eyes from crying all night. Robin was here to pick you up for work.
"Good Mor-" Her smile dropped along with the cup of coffee she was handing you as she saw your appearance. "Oh my god! What happened?" she rushed inside to wrap her arms around you.
"Eddie. He-" You could hardly get the words out. You just crumpled into a ball on the floor and sobbed pathetically in front of Robin.
"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch" She let you cry into her on the floor. "Come on, you need to get out of here. Get changed. We are calling in sick, and we can return to my place."
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Eddie woke up the morning after with a terrible hangover. It was already 12:35pm, and he couldn't remember how he got home. He suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea, which prompted him to hurry to the bathroom, where he vomited uncontrollably.
After the fifth shot, things in his memory become a little hazy. He was pretty hammered by then, but he still kept drinking with the boys. He vaguely remembered Jason being at the bar and making some leud comment about you, but other than that. Nothing.
He stumbled over to his answering machine to find it empty. That's weird? You always call him before your shift, and at least try to catch him on your lunch break. Today was Wednesday, right? You always work the morning shifts today.
Eddie tried calling your number, but he had no luck, so he tried calling your work, and when they said you called in sick, he got worried. So he tried your number again, and it still went to voice mail. Maybe you were sleeping? He tried calling back to see if Robin might know more. But when your annoyed coworker picked up the phone to tell him Robin also called in sick, he knew something was up.
Eddie rushed to his phone book to find Robin's number and called it. he waited for four rings until...
"Hello?"
"Hey! Rob it's Eddie, have you-"
"We are not speaking to you."
"We? Who's we?"
But it was too late. All he heard was the sound of the dial tone.
He tried again, no answer this time. He tried once more before getting pissed and decided to just go over to her place because what the fuck?
When Eddie got to Robin's, he pounded on the door like the pounding going on in his head.
"Robin! Open the door, please."
The door finally swung open to a very angry-looking Robin standing before him.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, Munson?!" She stepped outside and closed the door behind her so he couldn't come in.
"Robin, I'm extremely hungover and do not have the patience for your riddles. Do you know where my girl is or not? I'm worried sick."
"Oh, you can relax now since she is not your girl anymore, buddy." she poked his chest roughly. "you made that abundantly clear last night.
"Last night? I don't remember a thing from last night!"
"Well, think harder because she has been in there sobbing her eyes out from your little phone call."
"Phone call? What pho-" Then it all came rushing back to Eddie. It hit him like a Mack Truck.
"Yo Munson, where is that little whore of yours? Is she usually dangling off your arm like your little pet?" Jason snorted. "I bet she's off sucking another guy's cock; realized what a loser you are."
Jason didn't say much more to antagonize Eddie and get in his head, especially with the amount of alcohol he had consumed.
How could he be so stupid?
"Robin, oh my god, I fucked up. I fucked up big. Let me apologize."
"No. not now." She's a mess, as you can imagine-"
Robin was interrupted by the creek of the front door opening.
There you stood, looking as small as ever. Your eyes are still puffy, and your hair is a mess in your pyjamas at 1:30 in the afternoon.
"Baby, I-"
"Don't!" you cut him off, and Robin leaves to give you two spaces. "Don't you dare come here and think you can just take back what you said to me!" You had done a lot of crying; your anger was showing through.
"You don't understand, Jason was-"
"Jason?! What the fuck does Jason have to do with this? You hurt me, Eddie! I gave you everything! And then you throw it back in my face, accusing me of sleeping around? Are you insane? I've been in love with you for the last year and give myself to you, and you just throw that all away because of Jason Fucking Carver?"
"Baby, please, I'm so sorry; I'll do anything!"
"You've done enough." You turn and slam the door. That's it. You were done. Your heart felt so heavy… like it was just smashed into a million pieces. You were so close to caving when you saw the look of sorrow in those puppy dog eyes. But he had hurt you so bad you couldn’t believe he felt an ounce of pain he had inflicted upon you.
You and Eddie were officially done.
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You have been radio silent. You were held up in your room, and you refused to do anything other than go to work.
Eddie called you excessively. It was every day, multiple times a day. His messages made your heartache as you played them back. You could hear in his voice how broken he was. He had fucked up so bad you didn’t know if you should give him another chance. For two weeks, you refused to answer your phone. You were so sick of it ringing you eventually took it off the line.
Eddie did everything he could think of to try and win you back. He sent you flowers to your work every single shift. He called, wrote love letters, and just needed you to speak to him. He was a desperate mess without you. Eddie’s heart, like not, was ripped into shreds, and it was all his fault.
You’ve been in his life since high school since he met you in hellfire freshman year. Then, once you finally confessed your feelings for one another, he couldn’t believe his luck. You said you wanted to be with him, that you wanted him to be the only one you give yourself to. He never thought that he would be so lucky... And here he was, shooting himself in the foot. He even tried to go to your apartment a few times. But you would never answer the door. He would leave a note each time he showed up unannounced. It would say how sorry he was and how much he loved you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.
The slurred words repeatedly played in your head, and you couldn’t make it stop. No matter how much he apologized, nothing he could say could make you forget. Your chest felt like it had a fifty-pound weight sitting right on your heart. Your eyes were permanently swollen from the continuous crying you couldn’t seem to stop. He had stolen your heart and then stomped on it until it seized to beat.
The first month after the breakup was rough, but avoiding Eddie seemed to be easy enough. He eventually got the message by month two and stopped trying altogether.
As time went on, you slowly started to heal. Eventually, your constant thoughts about Eddie subsided. Eventually, they stopped. You never thought you would get over the hurt, but the distance helped. You were getting on your merry way by month three. Finally, feeling like yourself again, eating regularly, sleeping regularly. You hadn’t heard or seen him, and you were finally freed from the prison sentence that was Eddie Munson.
Time spent with your friends and family was exactly what you needed. Even though Robin saw Eddie regularly, she never forgave him for what he did to you. Their friendship was strained, which strained his friendship with Steve as well as Nancy. They wanted to take his side, but once they heard what he had said to you, they couldn’t simply look the other way. So you would hang out with them when Eddie wasn’t there and vice versa. They made sure you never had to encounter one another for the time being. However, it was getting more and more difficult to have two separate schedules to appease you both.
You were to go to Steve’s for dinner with everyone, pizza and movie night. When you arrived, everyone was tense. Lines got crossed, miscommunication ensued, and as you walked through to the kitchen, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in his hand, almost slipping from his grip as his Bambi eyes widened at the sight of you.
“Oh shit!” You hear Steve curse when he realizes the mistake that has been made.
“I’m going to go.” You turn and sprint to the door.
“Not wait!l You can hear Eddie shuffle off the chair behind you, but you refuse to look back.
“Please! Wait!”
Threatening tears sting your eyes, and you rush out the front door.
“Sweetheart, wait.” You feel his hand hook your elbow as your body is jerked in the opposite direction in which you’re running.
“What!” You yell, but then you see his eyes. You really look at him for the first time in three months. He had bags under his eyes, and the dark circles extenuated the deep chocolate of his eyes.
“I-I uh,” he lets out a deep breath, “I wanted to say I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I was so god damn stupid, so so stupid, the dumbest guy on the planet. I can’t believe I fucked this up so badly; I love you. I love you so much. I can’t do this anymore without you, baby. Please.” He was on his knees, begging, literally on his knees, grovelling.
“Eddie, get up.”
“No, I don’t deserve it.” He was so pathetic, but he didn’t care. “I love you, please, just please. I need you in my life.”
“I don’t know Eddie…”
“So that’s not a no?!” He popped up like an excited little bunny, the silver oh hope he needed to get by.
“Eddie…” you sigh.
“No, no, you said maybe! You don’t know. You haven’t decided. Please, baby, I love you.”
“This is too hard.” Your lip wobbles as you try walking away again, but he interlocks your hand with his.
“Please, can I at least just hold you?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You let your hand slip from his grip, and he unwillingly let go.
Eddie felt you slipping through his fingers, literally. The hope he had moments ago was gone.
“I’m sorry”
“So am I…” without another look back, you walked away.
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waldau-archived · 8 months ago
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pipe dream — chwe hansol | 1,730 words | fluff
friends to lovers with vernon (again)!!! here's the writing exercise i did because my hands were freezing.
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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“do you have your keys?”
you peel your eyes away from the movie you’re not really watching and look up at vernon. you couldn’t even tell the title if vernon asked.
vernon, who’s dressed in the most casual attire possible and still manages to look incredibly handsome as he stands in front of you, hands in the pockets of his jeans jacket.
“my…keys,” you repeat, focusing on not looking at his lips. you look at his eyes instead. maybe a second too late, because he raises his eyebrows.
“yeah,” he says, slowly. “keys. to our apartment. your set.”
our apartment. you ignore the tingle that runs through you at the possessive word. “i do, but…why?”
he sighs. “i left mine at seungkwan’s. he’s back in jeju right now and i don’t know when i’ll be back, so i don’t want to disturb you.”
“you mean you forgot yours. for the second time in the past few months.”
he raises his hands in surrender, a smile on his face. “not denying that.”
“what would you do without me?”
he pretends to think. “die, maybe. but can i have your keys? i promise i’m not going to lose them anywhere.”
you scrutinize him for a few moments. he probably thinks it’s under the pretense of wondering if you really want to give them to him, but you know you’d give them to him in a heartbeat. your hesitation is more about why he’s heading out tonight.
your mutual friend jeonghan’s set him on a blind date with a friend of a friend, and vernon’s heading out because he doesn’t have any other obligations. apart from your weekly movie night. which happens every saturday, without fail. you get a chance to pick a movie every other week. it’s your turn tonight, and while you usually love watching…spirited away, you remember, looking at the screen before looking back at him, it doesn’t seem that fun when you’re the only one on the sofa tonight.
it hurts that he’s okay with skipping movie night this time around. it always happens, even if either of you has to go somewhere the next day. it’s something that started out of boredom and has become an unspoken tradition.
but it doesn’t matter now. vernon’s going to go on a date with someone handpicked by jeonghan. someone who’s no wonder gorgeous, and funny, and smart, and the perfect match for him. he’s going to fall in love despite his whole i don’t fall in love easily at all shtick. and he’s going to go on even more dates, and move out, and maybe even marry—
“what if i say no?”
“either i wake you up from your sleep, or i spend the whole night freezing outside our door.”
you roll your eyes. vernon can be pretty dramatic when he needs to be. “i’m not that cruel. you can take my keys. they’re on my table.”
vernon’s eyes widen slightly. “really? i’ll get them, no worries,” he says, hand reaching out to push you back down into the sofa when you try to get to your feet. you shut your eyes for a moment at the touch, and he’s gone when you open them.
is it some kind of cosmically unlucky coincidence that jeonghan set vernon up on a date just days after you confessed your feelings about vernon to seungcheol? or is it some sort of conspiracy to get you jealous enough to confess to vernon, and then sit back and watch your life fall apart when he inevitably rejects you?
either way, it’s not going to work. there’s no magic than can possibly bring the two of you together.
a loud sound from the television startles you and makes you realize it’s been a minute or two since vernon’s been in your room. your mind first jumps to wonder whether you’ve left it in a mess, but you haven’t. your bed is neat, your laundry is washed and folded, and your desk is empty. you don’t have any journals dedicated to your feelings for him, thankfully. the notes app in your phone is a worthy substitute.
what the heck is he doing there, then?
“vern?” you call out, a bit uncertain. “aren’t they on the table?”
“yeah,” he calls out, and you hear his footsteps as he heads out of your room. “sorry. i got distracted.” he dangles your keys in front of you. “didn’t know you kept this,” he says, pointing to one of the keychains attached to the keys.
it’s a small mario figurine he’d given you for one of your birthdays. it’s eroded past the point of recognition, and the only reason you can tell it’s mario is because vernon had given it to you. specifically because of the sheepish smile he’d had as he caught you at the end of the party, apologizing for not being able to get a better gift in time. it’s still one of your most cherished gifts, and it’s even more valuable because vernon has a matching luigi keychain for his car keys.
“there wasn’t any reason for me to throw it away,” you point out.
vernon jerks his head to the side. “fair. also, you lied to me.”
“i…did? about?”
“not having this picture with you,” he says, sliding his hand into his pocket and pulling out a small polaroid. it’s too far to recognize anyone in it, but when he brings it closer to you, you swear you understand what people mean when they say their blood freezes.
it’s a picture of you and him at seungcheol’s last party, a few months ago. you’re sitting next to vernon, his hand around your shoulders and his head resting against yours. you don’t remember ever seeing him smile this much in a photo before. but he’d also been tipsy that night, which explains why he might’ve been like that. if it had been him and anyone else, it would have looked like a picture of a couple, but with you in it, it’s just two friends. nothing more.
the incriminating thing about the photo, however, isn’t the photo itself. it’s what’s written on the back. it says tell him you love him already! in soonyoung’s half-tidy scrawl. pipe dream, is what your reply was. i’ll tell him when he does first. because, obviously, he’d never do that.
you can’t bring yourself to meet vernon’s eyes, afraid of what he might say. the only reason the picture was ever pinned to your bulletin board was because you never expected him to see it there, and yet your worst fears have come true.
“if you’d shown me this earlier,” vernon says, placing the photo on your lap, “i wouldn’t have had to say yes to jeonghan hyung tonight.”
you don’t comprehend his words immediately, but he’s not upset. okay. you can deal with this. “why would it change—”
“because i love you.”
time stops, too. vernon is looking intently at you, his gaze never shifting as he reaches out for the remote and presses the pause button. that’s…kinda hot, you think, sinking into the sofa as much as you can. you’re done for.
“aren’t you going to say it back to me?”
“i…what? love you?”
“you’re going to have to sound more convincing if you want to make this dream reality.”
“i…love you?” you ask, swallowing.
“one more time?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of you. his hand reaches for yours.
this is vernon. your best friend, your roommate, and your only crush for the longest time ever. you can almost see seungkwan in your mind’s eye, urging you to say something.
“do i have to say it?” you ask, your grip on his hand tightening. “wasn’t the photo still being up there proof enough?”
“it was,” he says, that small smile you love so much gracing his lips, “but i’d like to hear it from you.”
“i…” dreaming of being able to say those words to him is one thing, but actually saying those words to him, knowing that he knows you love him feels…unlike anything you’ve felt before. you’re unable to meet his eyes.
again, this is vernon. you’ve shared a good number of embarrassing moments with him as your roommate, and yet…
“hm?”
“i love you,” you say, eyes shut, stomach feeling not unlike how it does at the precipice before the roller coaster falls towards the ground.
“you’re not even going to look at me?”
you’ve nearly said it thrice till now, and the more you say it, the easier it seems to get. especially when vernon wants you to say it to him. you open your eyes and glare at him. “fine. i love you, chwe vernon. i think you already knew it, but do with that what you will.”
vernon smiles that brilliant smile soonyoung had captured on camera months ago, and getting to see it directed at you feels amazing. “what i’m going to do, is apologize to jeonghan hyung,” he says, getting up to his feet.
“why? what about your date?”
“there’s someone else i’d like to have as my date.”
several hours later, when you’ve both watched a movie each of your choice, vernon leans against your shoulder while you wrap your blanket closer around the two of you.
“i thought i’d been clear that night,” he says. whispers, given how tired he sounds. you look down at the messy mop of hair resting on your shoulder. his hair’s gotten longer. when was the last time he’d gotten it cut? with little hesitation, you lift your hand and push his fringe back so it doesn’t cover his eyes.
“i thought you were tipsy.”
he huffs a laugh. self-depreciating. you know him well enough by now to be able to tell what he means. “liquid courage. i hoped you’d take a hint.”
you’d wanted to, so badly. vernon hadn’t left your side that night even once, and he held onto your hand all the way back home. you figured it had been for physical support.
apparently not.
you feel a surge of fondness run through you. you wish he could see it.
“vernon?”
“yeah?”
“i love you. i’m sorry i took this long to say it.”
you feel him press his cheek against your shoulder a little harder. he’s going to fall asleep soon.
“don’t be. i love you, too.”
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched
@minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo
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rninies · 1 year ago
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You're Mine!
synopsis: Gojo Satoru doesn't mind sharing until it comes to you.
warnings: fluff, gn!reader, ooc gojo (i think), possessive gojo, geto is so done with gojo — wc: 541
notes: hello tumblr enjoy my very first fic :3
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“Satoru, please let me go.” you pleaded for the tenth time today. Suguru watches from across the hallway, letting out a sigh as he sees Satoru’s arm wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.
“No.” Satoru mumbles, voice muffled as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. “Wanna be like this forever. You don’t need to be anywhere. Just stay here with me.”
“I have work today, Satoru. My boss is going to kill me if I come in late.” you tried prying his hands off of your waist but when your hands tried to make contact with his wrist, it stopped just above it. “Seriously?” 
You can feel Satoru smile against your shoulder. “What? I didn’t do anything.” He lifts his head and gives you a cheeky smile. “So, are you going to stay home?”
“What? No. I can’t just take a day off from work just because you want me to.” you say. “Now please let me go. Your students need you too. And Geto.” you pointed at Suguru, but Satoru still doesn’t budge. “Satoru.”
He whines childishly, tightening his grip. “Please. Just take a day off once. I’ll explain everything to your boss when he asks, promise! Besides, the students love it when you join me.”
You give Suguru a ‘help me please’ look but he only shrugs, giving you a thumbs up while mouthing the words ‘Good luck, Y/N.’ and leaves. You mentally curse Suguru in your mind, promising yourself that you’ll give him a punch when class is over.
Letting out a defeated sigh, you caved in. “Okay, fine. I’ll skip work for today,” Satoru immediately raises his head, a big smile on his face. “Only for today. I can’t afford to keep skipping work just because you asked me to.”
Satoru’s smile changed from a happy smile to a smug smile. “You know you’re lying. You skipped work for me plenty of time already. Remember the time I asked you to come here because I was feeling sick?”
Your eyes narrowed, remembering all too well how Satoru tricked you into skipping work because “he wasn’t feeling well”. He was lying, of course. As soon as you arrive at the classroom, medicine in your bag, you find Satoru lying on top of the desks, his students circling him — Yuuji said Satoru didn’t feel like teaching today because you weren’t there with him (you gave, or at least tried to, him a good punch on the shoulder).
“I was tricked into skipping work that time.“ you frowned, giving Satoru a smack on the head. “You said you were sick when in fact you weren’t.”
“Not having my daily dose of Y/N makes me feel unwell, you know that.” Satoru dramatically says, a cheeky smile appearing on his face. You glared at him. “Don’t give me that glare. You know very well how much you mean to me.”
The smile Satoru gives you is enough to make your knees weaken. “Okay, fine. I’m staying here so will you please let me go?”
“No, you’re actually pretty comfortable to hold so I’ll stay like this, thanks.” Satoru giggles, making you groan.
Maybe Satoru really dislikes having to let you go sometimes.
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midnight-shadow-cafe · 2 months ago
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Bound by Affection Part 2
Emperor Geta x healer!reader x Emperor Caracalla
Warnings: Fluff, rivalry between siblings, Caracalla being sick and more himself from the movie
Authors Note: this is now based off of what we see pretty much in gladiator 2. I know the first one wasn’t the Geta and Caracalla we know, but this one is more like the Geta and Caracalla We know now
Masterlist | Previous 
MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+  
The balance within the palace was fragile, each day bringing new challenges that deepened the complexity of your relationship with the two emperors. The shifts in their behavior were subtle at first, but you noticed the cracks forming beneath the surface.  
Caracalla’s once-boundless energy had waned. He still sought your company, his charm as sharp as ever, but there was a heaviness in his steps, a pallor to his skin that he couldn’t hide. His free-spirited nature was giving way to moments of brooding reflection, his illness creeping into every aspect of his life.  
“Don’t fuss,” he muttered one evening as you pressed a cool cloth to his fevered brow. His voice was weaker than usual, though he tried to mask it with a smirk. “You’ll spoil me, and then I’ll never let you leave.”  
“You’re in no position to argue,” you replied softly, brushing damp curls from his forehead.  
He sighed, his hand catching yours and holding it in place. “If you leave, the palace will turn to stone, and I’ll be the first to crumble.”  
The vulnerability in his voice broke your heart, and you leaned closer, pressing a kiss to his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Caracalla.”  
Across the palace, Geta was changing too. The carefree, charming young man who had once filled the halls with laughter now carried himself with a quiet strength. He had taken on more responsibilities, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tension brewing around him.  
One afternoon, as you found him in the library poring over scrolls, you couldn’t help but notice the shadows beneath his eyes.  
“You’ve been working too hard,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.  
He looked up, his hazel eyes softening at the sight of you. “Someone has to, especially now.”  
“You don’t have to bear it all alone,” you reminded him.  
He reached for your hand, his touch grounding. “I know. You’ve been my anchor through all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
---  
The turning point came one fateful evening when the three of you sat in the palace gardens, the scent of jasmine heavy in the air. Caracalla leaned heavily against you, his energy waning despite his efforts to hide it. Geta sat across from you, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.  
“I hate this,” Caracalla muttered, his frustration palpable. “Being weak. Being watched. Every moment, people waiting for me to fall.”  
“No one’s waiting for you to fall,” you said, your voice gentle but firm.  
“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, though the anger in his voice faltered as he looked at you. “Not you.”  
Geta’s gaze shifted between you both, his jaw tightening. “You’re not weak, brother. You’re just human.”  
Caracalla scoffed, though there was no real venom in his tone. “And you? Are you human, Geta? Or have you already ascended to perfection?”  
The jab hung in the air, but Geta didn’t rise to it. Instead, he leaned forward, his voice steady. “I’m doing what I have to, for Rome and for us. I suggest you do the same.”  
Caracalla’s laughter was bitter. “Spoken like a man who’s never felt the weight of mortality.”  
You squeezed Caracalla’s hand, drawing his attention back to you. “You’re both carrying different burdens, but that doesn’t mean you have to face them alone. I’m here for you—for both of you.”  
Geta’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension dissolved. “You’re too good to us,” he murmured.  
---  
As the weeks passed, Caracalla’s condition worsened, his sharp tongue and unpredictable moods becoming more pronounced. There were days when he barely left his chambers, his illness sapping him of the vitality he once wielded so freely.  
Geta, meanwhile, grew more composed, his presence a calming force in the palace. He had stepped into the role of leader with a grace that belied his youth, though the strain was evident in the quiet moments he shared with you.  
One evening, as you found yourself alone with Geta in the gardens, he finally let his mask slip.  
“I’m losing him,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.  
You placed a hand on his arm, your touch steadying. “He’s still here, Geta. And he needs you now more than ever.”  
“I’m not sure I’m strong enough,” he confessed, his hazel eyes clouded with doubt.  
“You are,” you said firmly. “I’ve seen it in the way you’ve cared for him, for Rome, for me. You’re stronger than you know.”  
He pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you as though you were his lifeline. “Don’t let me fall, amica mea.”  
“You won’t,” you promised, your voice muffled against his chest. “I’ll hold you up, just as you’ve held me.”  
---  
The palace was a different place now, the once vibrant halls shrouded in a somber quiet. But amidst the challenges, the bond between you, Geta, and Caracalla grew stronger, forged in the fire of shared struggles.  
Caracalla, even in his weakened state, refused to let go of his playful charm entirely. On one rare good day, he cornered you in the library, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  
“Tell me,” he said, leaning against the table, “what did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”  
“You mean besides being endlessly stubborn and impossible to deal with?” you teased, earning a weak laugh from him.  
“Exactly,” he said, his grin faltering as he looked at you. “You could have walked away a hundred times by now, but you stayed. Why?”  
“Because I care about you,” you said simply. “Both of you.”  
“And we’ll never let you regret it,” Geta said, stepping into the room and resting a hand on your shoulder. His calm presence was a stark contrast to Caracalla’s fiery energy, but together, they balanced each other—and you.  
As you stood between them, you knew that despite the challenges ahead, your bond was unbreakable.  
---  
The empire was shifting. Whispers of discontent stirred in the Senate halls, and the weight of leadership pressed heavily upon the two brothers. With each passing day, the strain on their relationship grew, their once-shared camaraderie fraying at the edges.  
Caracalla’s illness worsened, his temper becoming as unpredictable as a storm. His moments of charm and levity were fewer, replaced by bouts of frustration and melancholy. Yet, in his rare good moods, he was still the same man who could make you laugh with a sly comment or warm your heart with a fleeting touch.  
Geta, meanwhile, was transforming before your eyes. The carefree dreamer had hardened into a composed and calculating leader, his every action measured and deliberate. His affection for you remained constant, but his moments of vulnerability became rarer, hidden behind a mask of imperial duty.  
---  
One night, you found Caracalla in his chambers, staring out at the city. The soft glow of oil lamps illuminated his pale features, and the tremor in his hands as he gripped the windowsill did not escape your notice.  
“Caracalla,” you said softly, stepping into the room.  
He didn’t turn, his voice bitter as he spoke. “The city sleeps, unaware of how fragile it all is. They praise us as gods, but look at me. A god who can’t even stand without trembling.”  
You approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re no less powerful because of this illness. Your strength isn’t just in your body—it’s in your spirit, your will.”  
He turned then, his dark eyes searching yours. “And what happens when the will fades too? When all that’s left is a hollow shell?”  
You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. “Then you lean on the people who love you. You’re not alone in this, Caracalla. I won’t let you face it alone.”  
His gaze softened, and for a moment, the vulnerable boy he once was peeked through the cracks. “You’re too good for me,” he murmured. “Too good for either of us.”  
---  
Geta, ever the steadying force, had thrown himself into his duties with relentless determination. He spent long hours in the Senate, navigating the treacherous waters of Roman politics with a sharp mind and unwavering resolve.  
You found him late one evening, still seated at his desk, scrolls and reports spread before him. His head rested in his hand, exhaustion etched into his features.  
“Geta,” you said gently, setting a cup of wine beside him. “You need to rest.”  
He looked up, his hazel eyes weary but warm as they met yours. “There’s too much to do. Rome doesn’t wait.”  
“Rome needs you strong, not burnt out,” you replied, taking his hand and tugging him away from the desk.  
He allowed you to guide him to the couch, his resistance half-hearted. “You’re the only one who can talk sense into me, amica mea.”  
“And don’t you forget it,” you teased, earning a faint smile from him.  
As he leaned back, his head resting against the cushions, you sat beside him, your fingers brushing through his curls. He closed his eyes, his shoulders relaxing under your touch.  
“Sometimes I envy him,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost lost in the silence of the room.  
“Caracalla?” you asked, surprised.  
“He still has you to distract him,” Geta said, his tone tinged with sadness. “I’ve buried myself so deeply in this role that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to just be... me.”  
“You haven’t lost yourself,” you assured him. “You’ve grown, yes, but the man I care about is still here, behind all the responsibility. And I’m not going anywhere, Geta. You don’t have to face this alone.”  
He reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “You’re my light in all of this. Without you, I’d be lost.”  
---  
The tension between the brothers reached a boiling point during a Senate meeting. Caracalla’s fiery temper clashed with Geta’s calculated calmness, their differing visions for Rome threatening to tear them apart. You intervened before their argument could escalate further, pulling them aside into a private chamber.  
“This has to stop,” you said firmly, looking between them. “You’re both fighting for the same thing—a stronger Rome. You’ll never achieve that if you keep tearing each other down.”  
Geta’s jaw tightened. “He refuses to see reason. His impulsiveness endangers everything we’ve worked for.”  
Caracalla scoffed, his tone biting. “And your obsession with control makes you blind to anything outside your narrow vision.”  
“Enough!” you snapped, startling them both. “You’re brothers. You’ve been through too much together to let this divide you.”  
They fell silent, their gazes turning to you.  
“I love you both,” you continued, your voice softening. “But I can’t watch you destroy each other. You’re stronger together than apart. Find a way to make this work, for Rome and for yourselves.”  
The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, and slowly, they both nodded.  
---  
That night, the three of you sat together in the gardens, the tension from earlier giving way to a tentative peace. Geta poured wine for all of you, his movements precise and deliberate, while Caracalla leaned against you, his head resting on your shoulder.  
“We’ll find a way,” Geta said quietly, his hazel eyes meeting yours.  
“We will,” Caracalla echoed, his voice laced with determination.  
You smiled, hope blossoming in your chest. Despite the challenges ahead, you knew that as long as you stood together, you could face anything.  
--- 
The palace had become a volatile place, the air thick with unspoken tension. Caracalla’s illness, far from softening him, had hardened his demeanor. The playful charm he once wielded so effortlessly had given way to a sharper edge, his words cutting and his temper volatile. He moved through the halls like a storm, demanding absolute loyalty from those around him.  
You found him one evening in the atrium, pacing like a caged animal. His tunic hung loosely on his frame, a testament to his deteriorating health, but his eyes burned with a fierce intensity.  
“Caracalla,” you called gently, stepping into the room.  
He turned sharply, his expression unreadable. “What is it now? Come to lecture me, like Geta?”  
You took a cautious step forward, your voice calm. “I’m not here to lecture you. I’m here because I care about you.”  
His laugh was bitter, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Care? You care for a dying man who can barely command his own body, let alone an empire?”  
“You’re still the same man I’ve always cared for,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.  
He stepped closer, his dark eyes searching yours. “Then prove it. Stay by my side. When they whisper about my failures, remind them who I am.”  
“Caracalla,” you murmured, reaching out to touch his arm.  
He caught your hand, his grip firm. “Do you love me?”  
The rawness of his question took you by surprise. “Of course I do,” you replied without hesitation.  
His expression softened, if only for a moment, before the hardness returned. “Then don’t pity me. Stand with me as my equal, not as my nursemaid.”  
---  
Geta, on the other hand, had become a beacon of stability in the chaos. His calm, measured approach to leadership was a stark contrast to Caracalla’s fiery unpredictability. Yet even he could not mask the strain of their growing rift.  
You found him in the Senate chambers late one evening, his head bowed over a map of Rome. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his face.  
“Still at it?” you asked, stepping beside him.  
He looked up, his hazel eyes weary. “Someone has to clean up the mess he leaves behind.”  
“Geta…” you began, but he shook his head.  
“I’m not blind to what’s happening,” he said quietly. “He’s slipping, and I can’t reach him. Every decision he makes pushes us further apart.”  
“He’s scared,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.  
Geta sighed, leaning into your touch. “Fear doesn’t excuse recklessness. Rome can’t survive on fear alone.”  
“You’re both stronger together,” you reminded him. “Find a way to bridge this gap before it’s too late.”  
He reached for your hand, his grip warm and steady. “I don’t know if it’s possible anymore. But for you, I’ll try.”  
---  
The fracture between the brothers reached a breaking point during a meeting with the Senate. Caracalla’s impatience boiled over, his temper erupting as he dismissed the senators’ concerns with a wave of his hand.  
“Enough!” he roared, slamming his fist on the table. “I am not here to beg for your approval. I am Rome. You will follow my commands or face the consequences.”  
The room fell silent, the senators exchanging uneasy glances. Geta, seated beside him, spoke calmly. “They are not your enemies, Caracalla. They are our allies, and we must treat them as such.”  
Caracalla turned to his brother, his expression cold. “Allies? They are vultures, circling for scraps. Don’t mistake their flattery for loyalty.”  
The tension was palpable, and you intervened before the situation could escalate further.  
“Enough,” you said firmly, stepping between them. “This isn’t the time or place for this.”  
Caracalla’s gaze shifted to you, his jaw tight. “Stay out of this.”  
“I won’t,” you replied, your voice unwavering. “You’re brothers, not enemies. If you tear each other apart, Rome will fall with you.”  
Geta rose from his seat, his tone measured but firm. “She’s right. We can’t afford to let our differences destroy everything we’ve built.”  
Caracalla’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, his silence speaking volumes.  
---  
Later that evening, you found Caracalla in the baths, his expression distant as he gazed at the water’s surface. You sat beside him, the silence between you heavy.  
“Do you ever wish things were different?” he asked suddenly, his voice soft.  
“All the time,” you admitted.  
He turned to you, his vulnerability laid bare. “I don’t want to lose him, or you. But I don’t know how to stop this spiral.”  
“You start by trusting us,” you said, taking his hand in yours. “We’re not your enemies, Caracalla. We’re your family.”  
He nodded slowly, his grip on your hand tightening. “I don’t deserve you.”  
“You deserve more than you think,” you replied, leaning closer.  
---  
Meanwhile, Geta sought solace in your presence, his moments of vulnerability growing more frequent. One evening, as you shared a quiet moment in the gardens, he spoke of his fears.  
“I’ve always admired him,” Geta confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “His fire, his determination. But now, I wonder if that fire will burn us all.”  
“It won’t,” you said firmly. “Because you’ll be there to temper it, just as he tempers your reserve. Together, you balance each other.”  
He looked at you, his hazel eyes filled with gratitude. “And you balance us both. Without you, I don’t know where we’d be.”  
---  
The path ahead was uncertain, the weight of their roles as emperors pressing heavily upon them. Yet, as the three of you stood together, you knew that love—complex and imperfect as it was—would be your guiding light through the storm.  
---
The shift in Caracalla’s demeanor had grown sharper, and the palace felt it. He moved with a predator’s confidence, his steps echoing through the halls as servants scrambled to avoid his gaze. Power radiated from him, but so did a sense of chaos. His illness, now a public secret, didn’t weaken him in the eyes of others—it made him all the more dangerous, as if compensating for his failing body with sheer force of will.  
In stark contrast, Geta embodied a quiet stability. Where Caracalla demanded, Geta negotiated; where Caracalla ruled by fear, Geta sought respect. Yet even he was changing, his patience thinning under the weight of his brother’s antics and the empire’s demands. The only thing that kept their growing animosity from boiling over was you.  
---  
One evening, Caracalla summoned you to his private quarters. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the brazier in the corner. He stood by the window, gazing out at the city with a glass of wine in his hand.  
“Do you know why I called for you?” he asked without turning around.  
“I have an idea,” you replied, keeping your tone light.  
He turned then, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Do you?”  
There was an edge to his voice, a challenge in his gaze. You stepped closer, undeterred. “You’re testing me.”  
He smirked, the expression both cruel and amused. “I test everyone. Why should you be any different?”  
“Because I’m not just anyone,” you replied firmly.  
He set the glass down, closing the distance between you in a few swift strides. “No, you’re not,” he said, his voice low. “You’re the one thing in this entire empire I can’t control, and it drives me mad.”  
Your breath hitched as his hand came up to cup your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “But I don’t want to control you,” he continued. “I want you to stand beside me. To remind me that I’m not just a tyrant, even if that’s what they all see.”  
“You’re more than that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Stay with me tonight. I need you.”  
---  
Across the palace, Geta sat alone in the gardens, the cool night air doing little to soothe the storm within him. When you found him, his expression was distant, his hands clasped tightly in his lap.  
“Geta,” you said softly, sitting beside him.  
He didn’t look at you, his eyes fixed on the fountain ahead. “I envy him,” he admitted after a long silence.  
“Why?”  
“He takes what he wants without hesitation,” Geta said, his voice laced with bitterness. “Meanwhile, I hesitate, I overthink, and I lose. Not just power, but… you.”  
Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. You reached out, placing a hand over his. “You haven’t lost me.”  
He turned to you then, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of hope and doubt. “Haven’t I? Every time I see you with him, I wonder if there’s any room left for me.”  
“There’s always room for you,” you said firmly, leaning closer. “You and your brother may be opposites, but you both have a place in my heart.”  
His hand tightened around yours, and for the first time in days, a faint smile crossed his lips. “You’re the only thing that keeps me grounded in all of this.”  
---  
The tension between the brothers finally erupted during a council meeting. Caracalla’s temper flared as he dismissed one of Geta’s proposals with a wave of his hand.  
“Your caution will be the death of Rome,” Caracalla sneered.  
“And your recklessness will destroy it faster,” Geta shot back, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.  
The senators exchanged nervous glances, clearly uncomfortable with the brewing conflict. You stood at the edge of the room, your heart pounding as the argument escalated.  
“This isn’t about Rome,” Caracalla snarled, stepping closer to his brother. “This is about you wanting to prove you’re better than me.”  
“I don’t need to prove anything,” Geta replied, his calm façade cracking. “Your actions speak for themselves.”  
“Enough!” you interjected, stepping between them. “This is not the time or place for this.”  
Caracalla’s gaze shifted to you, his anger momentarily replaced by something softer. “You’re defending him?”  
“I’m defending both of you,” you said firmly. “You’re brothers. If you can’t find a way to work together, Rome will tear itself apart.”  
Geta’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “She’s right. We need to set aside our differences.”  
Caracalla hesitated, his pride warring with his affection for you. Finally, he sighed, stepping back. “For now.”  
---  
That night, the three of you sat together in the atrium, the tension from earlier still lingering but softened by the shared bottle of wine. Caracalla leaned back against a column, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering light, while Geta sat beside you, his presence steady and comforting.  
“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we weren’t emperors?” Geta asked suddenly, his voice thoughtful.  
“All the time,” Caracalla replied, surprising both of you. He looked at you then, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “But if I weren’t emperor, would I still have you?”  
“You’d have me no matter what,” you said, your voice filled with conviction.  
“And me?” Geta asked quietly.  
You turned to him, taking his hand in yours. “Always.”  
Caracalla smirked, though there was no malice in it. “She’s too good for us, Geta.”  
“Maybe,” Geta replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.  
As the night wore on, the three of you sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the empire momentarily forgotten. For now, you were just three souls bound by love, trying to navigate a world that demanded too much of all of you.  
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Hope you enjoyed it! Please consider liking and reposting! – Midnight💜 
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cumonstevie · 8 months ago
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Home Sweet Home Part 3
Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Warnings: Just a shit ton of fluff
A/N: This took 8 consecutive hours to write so I hope you guys like it!! It's 3.8k words 😬 my back hurts from slouching over my laptop for so long so I'll edit this later.
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A year and a half later
You and Steve have been doing so well at co-parenting for Penelope thus far. You had slowly eased Steve into her life, and she happily accepted him. It took her a while to comfortably call him ‘dad’ but once she started, that’s practically all she could say.
Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the day when she confidently called him ‘dad’ without him or you having to tell her.
It was late at night- well, it was late for Penelope to still be awake, and you were trying everything to put her to sleep but she wouldn’t stop crying.
“Shhh, Penny, it’s okay.” You try to comfort her in your arms.
Her cries echo off your newly purchased apartment and you groan, rocking the toddler to try and calm her down.
Spoiler alert: It didn’t work.
“Baby, please calm down-”
“I want daddy!” She cries louder and you halt your movements.
“What?”
“I want daddy!” Penelope sobs in your arms.
“I-” You’re stunned for a moment because this was the first-time hearing Penelope call Steve ‘daddy’ on her own without you or him coaxing her to say it. “Daddy will come over tomorrow, okay? But you need to go-”
“No!” She yelled, “I want daddy now!”
It didn’t seem like she was going to let up any time soon, so you walk over to the phone and hastily dial Steve’s number. It was only 8 o’clock so you knew he’d still be up- hopefully.
It rang twice before he picked up. “Hello?”
“Steve,” you breathed. “Thank god you’re still awake. Listen, I know it’s kinda last minute but Penelope won’t go to sleep and she keeps crying and asking for you so do you think you could maybe-”
“I’ll be there in a bit. Leave the door unlocked for me, yeah?” You could hear him moving around at his place, probably putting his shoes on.
“Okay, thank you so much.” You let out a sigh of relief.
Penelope’s cries get louder and you think Steve can hear her because he murmurs, “My poor baby…” You hear his car keys jingling soon after. “I’m on my way.”
A few minutes go by and Steve knocks two times before coming in. You know he probably sped all the way over and you make a mental note to scold him after Penelope goes to sleep.
“I’m here,” he huffed out, seemingly out of breath.
Upon hearing Steve’s voice, Penelope lifts her head from your shoulder and turns to her father all teary-eyed. “Daddy!” She cried, leaning out of your arms and toward him.
He visibly freezes at her words and his eyes pan over to you, wide. “Did she just-” he’s cut off by your daughter's cries of ‘daddy’ as she tries to grab him. “Come here, baby. Daddy’s here, don’t worry, sweetheart.”
He rubs her back soothingly and she slowly lays her head on his shoulder, doing the little hiccup-sob combination as she starts to calm down.
“Daddy…” She cried, “Stay.”
“It’s okay, sweet girl.” He hushes. “Daddy’s not going anywhere, alright?”
This seems to ease her mind because a few minutes later, she’s fully asleep in his arms. You silently guide him to her room where you watch as he puts her down and tucks her in. She stirs a bit but Steve gently pats her chest and she stills.
Once the both of you were sure she wasn’t going to wake up, you exit her room and walk back to the living room. The moment you enter the room, Steve pulls you into a hug.
“She called me daddy.” He beamed happily. “She fucking called me daddy, oh my god I feel like my heart is gonna burst open, I’m so happy right now.”
You hug him back, giggling a bit. “Yeah, it surprised me too.”
The both of you stay like that for a bit before he tears himself away from you and checks the time.
“It’s getting late, I should head home.” He says with a bit of a frown. “I can come by tomorrow if it’s alright with you?”
“Nuh uh,” you shake your head. “You promised your daughter that you’d stay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
You tell him he can take your room and you’ll sleep on the couch, but he refuses and says he’ll sleep on the couch instead. You protest but he shuts it down and you let out a huff but say ‘okay’ before going to get him a spare pillow and blanket for the night. You had started easing Steve into Penelope’s life little by little, starting with him visiting her at your place whenever he could (which he made sure to visit every single day no matter what). After she was comfortable with him being around, you segued into him taking her out, whether it be to the park, or to get ice cream (you also tagged along so that she was more comfortable). From that, he started taking her out, just him and her and not too long after, she started staying the night at his house.
He had done up a spare bedroom at his place just for her and she loved it so much. He pulled out all the stops for his little girl. Telling his parents about Penelope was a bit rough. He told you that they were a bit skeptical about him being the father but when Steve whipped a picture of little Penelope out of his wallet and showed them, they went silent.
From there, they were disappointed that he was so careless that it resulted in a child. He told them that they could be mad at him all they want but that he has a daughter now and he’s stepping up and although he doesn’t have a great relationship with them, he would love it if Penelope did.
They were obviously a bit hesitant but after meeting Penelope, they let their guards down. It made Steve happy that they showered her with love and affection but it also made him a bit upset because he never really experienced that from them.
He felt like this was a turning point for them, though. A good turning point.
Today was Penelope’s 4th birthday party and Steve insisted that it should be at his house. You didn’t fight him on it. You figured his house would be better suited for a birthday party than your little apartment.
A knock on the door alerts your ears and you quickly glance into the backyard, seeing Steve run around with Penelope, before opening the front door.
“Sorry I’m late,” Eddie huffs out, “the band stayed and performed late and I didn’t get home till way later and then when I woke up I couldn’t remember where I put Pen’s gift so this whole morning I was tearing up my place looking for it.” He then shows you a poorly wrapped gift box with a smile. “But I found it.”
You giggle. “You didn’t miss much, Penny’s just been playing with the kids and Steve so far.”
“Thank god.” Eddie sighs. “Where do I put this?”
“We have a table outside for gifts. Come on.” You beckon him to follow you.
Eddie sets the gift on the table then makes his rounds saying hi to everyone. Steve is chasing Penelope around the yard and he lets out a playful roar as he picks her up and catches her. She screams and he laughs, giving her a kiss before setting her down carefully.
It was then that she spotted one of her favorite Uncle’s. “Uncle Eds!!”
The little girl runs over to Eddie as fast as she could, her pink tutu that she insisted on wearing even though it was cold outside, flowing about.
“Pen!” The curly-haired musician exclaimed as he knelt down and captured her in a hug. “How’s my favorite birthday girl?”
Penelope giggles. “Uncle Eds, I’m the only birthday girl!”
“You’re right.” He smiles before giving her a big kiss. “You’re getting so big, Pen. Don’t go growing up on me too fast.”
“Ima grow bigger and faster!”
“No! Don’t say that, I’ll cry!” Eddie pulls a dramatic frowny face which makes Penelope laugh.
Steve walks up beside you with his hands on his hips; a typical Steve Harrington pose. “Please tell her to stop saying that, she tells me all the time that she’s a big girl and it breaks my heart.”
Steve pouts at his daughter and she giggles in Eddie’s arms. “Daddy don’t be sad, when I get bigger ima take care of you!”
Steve’s eyebrow quirks up and he points a finger at her. “I’ll hold you to that, little lady.”
“She’s not getting bigger, not on my watch.” Eddie says as he squishes her in a hug. “I’m gonna squeeze you in a little box so you stay little forever!”
Penelope gasps. “No!”
“Yes!”
Penelope wiggles out of Eddie's grip and starts running away from him. “No! Never ever ever!”
Eddie runs after her, telling her that he’ll never let her grow up. You giggle, watching the two and Steve turns to you.
“Everyone here?” He asks.
“Yeah, Eds was the last one to show up.”
“Alright,” he nods. “I say we let her play for a little while longer then sing happy birthday?”
“I was thinking the same thing, Harrington.”
He points to his head, then to yours and says, “Great minds think alike, Y/L/N.”
It was fairly easy to slip back into your friendship with Steve. After the awkwardness of him finding out that Penelope was his, the two of you acted as if no time had passed. It was refreshing and you didn’t realize how much you missed being around him.
To say your feelings for Steve were gone, would be a lie. Your feelings for Steve never really went away. Even if you tried so very hard to leave them behind, they only grew more when Steve would play with Penelope or spend time with her in general. He adapted to his role as a father rather quickly and you weren’t going to lie, it was attractive.
You would never tell him, though. You didn’t want to ruin the dynamic that the two of you had. Everything, so far, was good.
You had tried going on a date a while back but it fell through once you told the guy that you had a child. Steve was very upset about it. The date had lasted less than an hour. You were having a good time, asking questions about each other when you mentioned you had a daughter. The guy’s demeanor changed quickly and he closed himself off. It was awkward after that. He confirmed that you had a daughter once more and when you said yes, he cleared his throat.
“Um, I’m sorry but I don’t think this is going to work out.” He says. “You’re a great girl but-”
“But me having a kid is a problem.” You finish his sentence in a mono-tone pitch.
“No!” The guys exclaimed. “It’s just- It’s kind of-”
He stumbles over his words, trying to save face but you shake your head and pull out money for your meal, placing it on the table.
“It’s fine. I know me having a child isn’t ideal but maybe you should try to at least be an adult about it.”
The guy scoffs. “I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid.”
You roll your eyes and stand up. “Grow up.” You say before walking out.
You understand that dating someone who has a child could be a bit scary but he didn’t even give it a chance! He closed off the minute you mentioned Penelope.
You pull up to Steve’s house and slam your door shut in annoyance.
‘I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid’
Get real.
You knock on the door and patiently wait for Steve to open it.
“Hey,” he says when he sees you on the other side. “Why are you here so early? I thought you had a date?”
“I did.” He can sense the annoyance in your voice and he moves aside to let you in. You put your purse down on his table and turn to face him. “He wasn’t too keen on the fact that I have a kid.”
Steve’s eyebrows furrow and he’s about to ask what the dude said but it’s like you read his mind because you tell him.
“Said he’s not about to play step-daddy to a kid that’s somebody else’s.”
“What the hell?” He has a look of disgust flushed across his face.
“Yeah,” you nod. “He didn’t even wait a few minutes before he was telling me that it ‘wasn’t going to work out’ between us! The minute I mentioned Penny, he shut down.” You huff out, running your fingers through your now messy hair.
“What a dick!” Steve is visibly baffled. “Welcome to the real world! There’s a chance that you might date someone who has a kid!”
“Right?” You agree. “Like I get it, I’m young and I have a toddler and yeah that’s kind of scary but he didn’t even give it a chance!”
Steve’s hands are on his hips as he shakes his head. “God, what an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Eh,” you shrug. “Probably dodged a bullet anyway.”
“Definitely.”
“I’m never gonna date again. I’m gonna be lonely forever!” You groan.
“No you won’t,” Steve reassures as he pats your shoulder. “There’s someone out there who will want to be with you and doesn’t mind that you have a kid.”
“Suuuuuure,” you mumble. “When you find him, let me know, alright?”
Steve chuckled. “You got it, sweetheart.”
Penelope comes running into the room shortly after, practically leaping into your arms and you cradle her to you. She tells you that her and Steve are gonna watch movies all night long but both you and Steve know she’s most likely going to fall asleep in the middle of the first movie.
She asks if you’re going to stay and watch movies with them and Steve encourages you to do so.
“What, you’re gonna go home and sulk about what a crappy date this was? Nuh uh. Stay and watch movies with your family.” He tells you.
“Yeah!” Penelope adds. “Watch movies with family! Daddy got the movie with the kitties!”
Aristocats has been Penelope’s favorite movie recently.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stay.”
Penelope is happy and the three of you move to the couch. Steve puts the movie in and Penny sits in between the two of you, knocking out exactly midway into the film.
Steve puts her in her room then comes back out, coaxing you to stay for another movie. It works and he pops in ‘Just One Of The Guys’. You two enjoy each other's company and toward the end of the movie, you and Steve are fast asleep on the couch.
You gathered everyone around the table that held the cake as Penelope climbed on top of the chair. Steve puts a pink birthday hat on her little head and she insists that both you and him put one on as well.
You oblige with her wishes and put a pink hat on. Jonathan wastes no time with taking pictures of the three of you. He’d develop them as soon as he could and give them to you.
Penelope’s eyes scanned the yard as she beamed happily at everyone. Both yours and Steve’s parents were there, the Party, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan- all in attendance for your daughter's fourth birthday party. Your heart swelled knowing all the people that were present loved your daughter just as much as you and Steve did.
You all sang happy birthday to Penelope and she blew out the candles, causing everyone to cheer.
“Wait!” She shouts with her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m still wishing!”
“Oh! Sorry, sweet girl. Everyone shhh!” Steve says.
Everyone quiets down and Penelope is heard murmuring underneath her breath but no one can make out what she’s saying. After a bit, she opens her eyes and smiles.
“I’m done!”
Everyone cheers again and you cut the cake and plate it while Steve hands them out. When Penelope’s done eating her slice of cake, you start opening the gifts.
“Okay, this one is from Uncle Dusty.” You hand her the gift and she tears it open excitedly.
“A tea party!!” She yells out happily, turning to her father. “Daddy, we can play tea party! Thank you, Uncle Dusty! You’re my favorite!”
Dustin tells the four-year-old that she’s welcome as he beamed at her words. Eddie, however, wasn’t taking it too well.
“What?!” He exclaimed. “What about me? I was your favorite earlier!”
Penelope giggles. “Uncle dusty gave me a tea party so he’s my favorite now!”
Eddie sulks as she continues to open her gifts and Dustin sticks his tongue out at the musician in a mocking manner. Not too long after, however, Penelope opens Eddie’s gift.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” She enunciated every word. “It’s a guitar!! Uncle Eds, it looks like the one you have!! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!!”
Although it was a toy guitar, you and Steve knew you would never know what silence felt like after this moment.
Steve rubs his face with his hands when he sees the gift. “Oh no…”
Penelope had been obsessed with Eddie’s guitar from the moment she saw it. She always wanted Eddie to play it and she always wanted to touch it. Eddie would tell you she was a musical prodigy in the making.
You and Steve give each other the same look before you say, “Say goodbye to the peacefulness.”
Steve groans while Penelope jumps up and down happily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re my favorite now, Uncle Eds! We can play guitar together!!”
“Any time you want, Pen.” Eddie smiles at his niece before locking eyes with Dustin who stared at him with a blank face. Eddie mouths, “In your face!”
You finish up the gifts and the kids play with Penny for a little bit before you can tell that she’s beginning to get tired. You and Steve end the birthday party, thanking everyone for coming as they left. Once they were gone, Steve put Penelope down for a very much needed nap while you started picking up.
Steve joins you not too long after and when you’ve finished cleaning up, the pair of you slump down on the couch, exhausted.
“Penelope’s fourth birthday party was a success. Nice work, Y/L/N.” He raises his hand for a high-five, and you meet him halfway.
“Can’t take all the credit. You did most of the work.” You tell him.
“Yeah, but you gave birth to her. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be here celebrating her turning four.” He smiles at you affectionately before his smile drops. “Oh my god, she’s four. My baby’s four.”
“Yep,” you nod. “And she’ll only get older from here.”
“Don’t remind me.” He pouts. “I want her to stay little forever.”
You laugh as he sulks for a bit. The two of you sit in silence and you close your eyes for a little before you feel Steve shift in his seat.
“Y/N?” He says and you open your eyes to find him facing you.
“Yeah?”
Steve bites his lip and his fingers tap against his jean-covered thigh. His habit every time he’s nervous.
“Um,” he starts. “We’ve been doing good, right? I mean, co-parenting and all.”
“Yeah…” You have no clue where this conversation is headed.
“And our relationship with each other is good. We don’t fight or argue or anything-”
“Steve,” you cut him off. “Spit it out already.”
You start to think he’s trying to ease into telling you that he was seeing someone, and you were preparing yourself to hear it, but his next words threw you off.
“I have feelings for you.” He says quickly and your eyebrows furrow as you sit up to look at him more clearly. “Well, I’ve always had feelings for you. They never went away. I just never said anything because you said you weren’t ready to revisit us romantically but, I don’t know, today just-” He sighs deeply, his fingers combing through his hair. “You look so beautiful today- well, you look beautiful every day and we work so well together that it got me thinking about what life would be like if we were, you know, together. As a couple.”
“Steve…”
“I know, okay? I know I fucked up back then and I know you’re hesitant but god, Y/N, you take up so much space in my head. You and Penny. That’s all I care about. That’s all I want and that’s all I’ll ever need. Ever since you walked out of my house almost five years ago, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I haven’t been on a date since- well, since I was with Nancy because I didn’t want to be with anyone else but you. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want us to be a family, officially. Me, you, and Penny in a big house. I wanna come home from work and know that I hit the jackpot because I get to see my two favorite girls every single day of my life. I want-” He takes a minute to breathe before he takes your hand softly. “I want you.”
He’s looking into your eyes and you just know that he means every word that he’s said just now.
You don’t know if it’s butterflies in your stomach or if you’re gonna throw up.
“Steve,” you breathe out.
“Please say you feel the same way.” He says softly. “If you don’t, that’s okay and we can just go back to how we were before I confessed all of this but if there’s even a slight chance that you feel the same way, please give me the chance to make you happy for the rest of your life.”
A smile makes its way to your lips and your eyebrow quirks up. “For the rest of my life, huh?”
“Mmm Hmm,” he hums. “For the rest of your life, for the rest of my life, for the rest of our lives… I’m in it for the long run.”
“Steve,” you say softly. You watch as the boy in front of you hangs on to your every word, anticipating what you’ll say next. He looks nervous and scared, but also hopeful. You lean in and kiss his cheek softly. His eyes close as he relishes in the feeling. “You’re in luck because I feel the same way.”
His eyes snap open and they sparkle in the light. “Really?”
“Really.” You giggle. “My feelings never went away either.”
“Oh my god.” He breathed out, pulling you into a hug.
You stay like that for a bit before pulling away. “I want to take this slow, though. I wanna do this right, I don’t want to rush things, Steve.”
He looks at you affectionately, rubbing the skin of your cheek with his thumb.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N, as long as I get to be with you in the end.”
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