#and the best part is that my friends are the same too so we’d be sharing Christmas presents in February sometimes 😂😂

[bootyful-seventeen]

So how many other people will get friends Christmas gifts after the holidays???

[foldingfittedsheets]

Here’s a story about the time I almost lost my virginity. This is of course a social construct and by a broader understanding had already been lost years earlier at a sleepover with my best friend. But I digress.

I was dating a boy in high school. I shall call him Drama Boy. DB was big into theater, he made home movies and did stage performances at his high school.

Now. I must make this notation here, because the ending to this story will be savage otherwise, but DB put entirely too much of his mental well-being on my shoulders. He was often depressed and it was my job to constantly be helping him to regulate that.

The night our story took place we had been dating for eight months. During those months had been a ludicrous amount of making out and groping, even one lusty fumble that almost ended in penetration I vetoed on the grounds of not having a condom. It’s worth noting the first time we made out I felt physically sick to my stomach but I assumed that was normal.

But our parents didn’t give us much opportunity to really do anything like we imagined real sex to be. Until he came over for a movie night and my parents left on a date.

Scandalous, some might say, of my parents to leave us unchaperoned. But my parents were very blasé about sexual topics. They knew I was well educated and careful. Their leaving was possibly a gift of privacy rather than carelessness.

So when DB arrived for our movie night, we both knew This Was The Night. The night we’d lose our virginity.

We were both nervous and excited. The weight of societal pressure blanketed both of us, convincing us that this was the most momentous night of sex either of us could ever have.

DB chose a wretched movie. We sat through the first part dutifully before we started making out sloppy style. As I’d said previously, we’d done plenty of making out and hand stuff. Which is why I noticed that DB did not seem to be as… rigid as he had on other occasions.

A kinder more mature lens has softened my perspective. He was so nervous. But at the time I was a bit offended that I wasn’t arousing enough to have him standing at full mast. Still, we forged ahead.

I sat patiently while he tried to unhook my bra, boredly watching the terrible movie in the background as he soldiered manfully toward defeating the two clasps containing the bounty of my bosom while insisting he didn’t need my help. It took about five minutes.

That out of the way we made out some more. Then DB pulled out his pièce de résistance. A condom. This was a big get for him. His family, unlike mine, were horribly conservative and of the opinion that marriage was worth waiting for. So his opportunity to secure this vital piece of equipment had been slim.

In fact, it had been so slim, that what he pulled out was an:

Unlubricated

Glow in the dark

Novelty condom

From a vending machine

At the bowling alley.

I wasn’t terribly enthused about any of those qualifiers, but I held my tongue.

Then came the worst part. DB couldn’t admit that the stress of performance had unmanned him. He continued to pretend his wobbly erection could facilitate the rigorous activity of putting on a condom. He attempted to force the dry clinging rubber down his dick as it softened like pudding under his fumbling hands.

I butted in and made with more kissing, certain that seeing me naked had been such a let down that he was going limp because of me. Surely the sight of my boobies should have been enough! Because they weren’t, I was convinced he wasn’t really into this deflowering at all.

It didn’t help that my enthusiasm for this activity was fueled purely by teen hormones rather than actual sexual attraction. Perhaps he felt the same. It was one thing to watch his penis with clinical curiosity but another to think that my young boobs didn’t excite the same lust I felt toward boobs.

Nevertheless. The condom was more or less on. With momentous energy he tried to jam our anatomy together and rolled a critical failure. His penis lost all rigidity and oozed away from insertion.

Panicking and embarrassed he exclaimed, “I think I put this on wrong!”

To my horror he began trying to remove the condom and put it back on the other way. Health instructors of ages past screamed in my head that the condom had now been stretched and unrolled.

Trying to jam it back on was certainly not safe, especially given the slackness of the anatomy in question. It would certainly tear- if he could even get it back on.

I broke out in a sweat watching him attempt the magic trick of convincing a flaccid penis that it really wanted to get better acquainted with a desiccated rubber tube prison.

“I just remembered!” I exclaimed.

He looked up at me, wretched with despair.

“I promised my parents I wouldn’t have sex tonight. I just remembered! Sorry!”

This could go down in history as one of the most bold faced and terrible lies ever told, a blatant falsehood on par with declaring the sky was green. But his face broke out in a terrible relief.

He disposed of the abused condom and I resecured my bra and we resumed watching the horrible movie, both of us relieved in our own way to set down the burden of Losing Virginity.

The next day I broke up with him.

This remains to this day one of the most savage things I’ve ever done, breaking up with someone the night after impotence.

But remember, dear reader! It wasn’t just the sex! His depression had already worn away my patience and our communication. The foibles of the night before had just illuminated the gaps where we couldn’t talk to each other properly. I was constantly comforting him over something, shoring up his brain chemistry with my relentless positivity.

I’d like to say that’s all it was, and look more charitably on my young self. But truthfully my tender pride had also been badly stung that I wasn’t worth rising to the occasion for. Comforting him over this latest mishap when my feelings were hurt was more than I could swallow.

DB took the breakup very poorly. About two weeks later he lost his virginity with the new girl he was dating. He called me to brag, sniffing through the airwaves for hints that he’d hurt me back.

When I congratulated him with utter sincerity and not a whiff of jealousy he was furious.

We stopped speaking for years, except on our mutual birthday when we’d wish each other a cordial “Happy birthday.”

He messaged me out of the blue one day years later to catch up. He was working in food service now. Was it true I was a lesbian? Yes, I assured him, that was true. He thought that was pretty cool.

Then he told me about this bisexual girl he worked with who was interested in a threesome. Did I want to have a threesome with him and his bisexual coworker?

The audacity. I couldn’t believe it. My mind filled with savage retorts like, if you understand I’m a lesbian why do you think I’d want you to be part of that? Why wouldn’t I just sleep with her without you?

But I remembered the utterly ruthless way I’d dumped him and as penance I swallowed all of the things I wanted to say and instead politely told him I was seeing someone, but thanks for the offer.

And that was it. He’d managed to shoot his shot not once, not twice, but three times, and never managed a home run. He struck out that last time, and we never spoke again.

[gutsby]

Grow a Uterus and We'll Talk

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff, an absurd amount of baby rabies, and fluff. Don’t blame me if y’all get pregnant.

“You lay one finger on me and I’ll bite it off, Dixon.”

You’d done the same damn dance once a month, every month for the past two years, and you were starting to grow annoyed with your boyfriend’s advances.

“Would it really be tha’ bad if we tried it out…just once?” Daryl huffed.

“I don’t know,” you answered, shrugging, “Grow a uterus and we’ll talk.”

The archer playfully lunged at you from across the couch, but you easily side-stepped and took residence at the far end of the room. You reached for a stiletto to throw at his head if he came any closer.

“Still on the baby business, huh?” Carol called as she strode past the living room toward the kitchen.

“Ya know we’d make some damn cute crotch goblins,” Daryl yelled back. You rolled your eyes.

“That isn’t for you to decide, Daryl,” Carol’s voice seemed to toughen, even give him a scolding look from a distance away, “And if you knock her up before she’s ready, I’ll string you up by your balls and feed you to the walkers.”

The woman did not fuck around—and you loved her for it. Presently, you stuck your tongue out at Daryl as if to say, ‘See? I told you so’ and the man simply scowled. Flopped down on the couch and propped his dirty boots up on the coffee table.

“‘Course I wouldn’t try if ye weren’t ready,” he grumbled, “Jus’ wanted you ta consider it.”

You joined him on the couch and nudged his feet off the table.

“Is that why you’ve been parading every baby in Alexandria in my face for the past six months? Hoping I’d ‘consider’ things a little more?” you quipped, raising both eyebrows.

Daryl paused a beat, seemed to chew on his thoughts for a moment or two. Then he offered you a sheepish grin and said,

“Rick and Michonne really need the free childcare.”

You were itching to grab that high heel again. Before you could, though, a sound thundered through your foyer and the front door was thrown open wide. In the blink of an eye, Rick had stumbled through your entryway, passed off his infant to Daryl like a sack of potatoes, and raced back to the door.

“Rick, what the fuck?!” you shouted before he could escape.

“Date night,” Rick answered in a ragged breath, gripping the door frame while he glanced over at Daryl.

Daryl smiled and held Judith to his chest like she might’ve been the most precious thing in the universe. You narrowed your eyes.

“He put you up to this?” you asked, tipping your chin in Daryl’s direction.

Rick didn’t hesitate; he said that he had. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Daryl shooting daggers at his friend. Promptly, Judith pawed at your boyfriend’s stubbled cheeks and babbled.

Sensing the tension in the air, Carol gathered her belongings and contemplated baking her bread elsewhere—or at least give you and Daryl some space to talk. She started toward the door,

“Walk a lady home?” she said to Rick.

Rick shot her a curious look but accepted anyway. Casting a sidelong glance to the man on the couch and the woman who was currently staring him down with an irate look in her eyes—you—he quickly surmised it was in his best interest to leave. Hopefully Judith was too young to catch on to any curse words that might be hurled in the next several minutes.

“Be good, you three,” Rick gave his parting words before following Carol outside. The door crashed shut behind them.

As soon as it had, you were back on your feet and traipsing out of the room.

“Come on,” Daryl whined.

He followed your steps into the kitchen with Judith still cradled in his arms. There was a pregnant pause as you rifled through your cabinets, wordlessly searching for some ingredients to bake whatever pastry it would take to get your mind off the discomfiture of this situation—you decided on muffins, at length.

It wasn’t like you hated babies. You loved their big bald heads and their pudgy, wobbling legs. You loved the way they giggled and smiled and dribbled food all over their fronts. You didn’t even mind the thought of pregnancy; carrying a pint-sized redneck in your belly for nine months wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen. 

It was the world that frightened you most. The thought of a newborn child’s slim chances at surviving a place like this. The fear of that alone was enough to have you fighting that dreadful outcome, tracking your cycle like a hound and fighting Daryl off every month when you knew that day was coming. You’d been pretty successful thus far. But by the looks of the man across the kitchen beaming down at the baby, you weren’t sure how long that winning streak would last.

“Wanna hold her?”

“No.”

“Wanna do her hair?”

“She hasn’t got any.”

Daryl shot you a look of mock indignation and stroked Judith’s head.

“You kiddin’? Little Ass Kicker’s gotta have at least fifteen strands by now,” he retorted, tugging at the short blond tufts as if to prove a point.

Judith smiled a toothless grin up at her Uncle Daryl. You all but had to leave the room to stifle the sounds of your reproductive organs screaming, 'Give that man a baby! NOW!' You clenched your stomach and turned away to start preparing the pans.

Daryl perched Judith on his lap and starting puffing out his cheeks. The infant shrieked with laughter. You assembled the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt together on the counter and sought after a bowl.

“Dada, Dada!” Judith chanted. Trying in earnest to say ‘Daryl’ but ending up sounding like she was calling him dad. You dropped the mixing bowl on the countertop with a clatter.

“Daryl, kiddo, Dar-yl,” your boyfriend tried to teach her, enunciating his name a couple more times.

“Dada!” the little tyke howled again as she fisted his shirt in her fingers.

Milk and oil and— eggs. Where are the eggs?

You tore through the fridge and wanted to sob into the shelves with the sheer force of delirium coursing through your veins. Damn you, Charles Darwin, I am not in a place to be procreating right now.

You tried turning your mind to other things—cooking, crying, contemplating the course of human evolution—but when you turned back with the carton of eggs in hand, you almost sent the dozen of them crashing straight to the floor.

Daryl was pinching her chubby cheeks.

If you weren’t so violently inclined to breed a whole new gaggle of progeny with this man, you probably would’ve chucked an egg at his head.

You sighed as you dropped the last of your cooking supplies on the surface of the kitchen island. You planted your hands flat on the granite and stared shamelessly at the two of them. Daryl was feigning ignorance, tapping Judith’s tiny pink nose with the tip of his finger and watching her giggle. When he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, you spun around to kick the oven door shut and cut the appliance off, immediately.

“Alright, you win, you bastard,” you said in a huff.

Daryl looked up from his present occupation, eyeing you innocently.

“What do you mean, hon—”

You cut him short, raising a finger to halt his speech before starting toward the door.

“Shut up,” you muttered as you headed for the stairs, “Meet me up there in five.”

Daryl deposited Judith in her portable playard in a second’s time and went scrambling up those steps faster than he ever had before. 

Silently, speedily, he thanked every one of his lucky stars and his best friend, Rick Grimes.

[eilidh-eternal]

here to share brainworms on this:

Imagine being a friend of theirs and sleeping with both of them on seperate occasions without knowing that they're friends (perhaps you met them at different times in different places) and noticing the tattoo and you think back to that one time you slept with some other Sergeant and know you've seen that exact tattoo before while he's making a mess of you on his cock🥴

AJDSKFSJ KELSI?!

Oh my god…

A fwb type situationship with Gaz—who honestly would like to be more bc he’s a SWEETHEART—but you’re still a little hung up on cbf Johnny😵‍💫

Maybe it was a right person wrong time thing, or maybe there was an argument over a miscommunication, but you’ve never been able to forget about the time you shared with him, even though you know you need to move on.

And then came Gaz. Sweet, loving, wants to be whatever you need Gaz. But you’re still so traumatized from loosing the person you thought you were going to spend your whole life with that you’re not ready to let him in, at least not into your heart, so you let him fill the void of physical affection. You let yourself believe that if you hold him at arms length he won’t get close enough to hurt you, like he did.

But Kyle is a smart man, emotionally intelligent and perceptive, and above all else—patient. He takes things slow with you, lets you set the pace and stays firmly on the other side of your boundaries, even if every time you see him they’re slowly starting to crumble. He knows someone before him hurt you, knows that’s why you don’t want to label what you two are, don’t want to get attached.

You’ve only hooked up with him a few times, still sort of getting to know one another without getting too personal. So, clothes have stayed on, for the most part. In your mind, this is purely about taking care of your physical needs, and the gods gave pants zippers for a reason, right? Right, so you don’t really know what Kyle looks like. You sure as fuck know what he feels like though, and it keeps you coming back.

But those walls… Kyle is right about them. You start getting comfortable with him, don’t feel the need to wear your clothes like armor the more you see him and he proves that he won’t push you into anything you aren’t ready for. And the first time you both get to see each other laid bare? Oh, Kyle is a goner. Fucks you deep and slow, really takes his time getting to know all of you.

It’s when you’re on top that you see it, the dark whorl of ink peeking out at you between your fingers where they’re planted on his hips, holding you steady while he rocks up into you. You move your hand higher, dragging your fingers up the ridged plane of his abdomen, and look a little closer at the tattoo through half-lidded, lust-addled eyes, at the familiar shape of the revolver inked into his skin.

Familiar, but you can’t quite place where you’ve seen it before when he’s got you crying on his cock.

A few weeks later, you’ve reluctantly started to grow fond of Kyle, and he invites you out for drinks with his friends. Of course you two are early, he out of habit and you out of nervous anxiety, and while you wait for everyone else to arrive he’s showing you something on his phone, scrolling through his camera roll when you see it, the photo of him and what must be one of his friends at the tattoo parlor together, skin still red from the fresh ink.

“Wait, what’s that?” You point to the photo.

“Oh! That’s my best mate and I. Said if we came back in one piece we’d finally get some matching ink.” He clicks on the photo and you nearly fall out of your chair. Nearly pass out from the lack of oxygen when the breath is punched out of you when you realize why you recognize that tattoo.

Johnny’s face stares back at you, arm slung over Kyle’s shoulders with the same easy smile you remember him with plastered on his face.

Kyle’s saying something, telling some story, but you don’t hear it, can’t hear the music or the chatter of the other patrons over the panic shrieking in your mind. It’s not until you feel a hand on your shoulder that you surface from your thoughts, Kyle’s voice reaching you through the churning depths of your mind.

He’s introducing you to his Captain, and his Lieutenant, but you can’t stop staring at the Sergeant, the ghost from your past, that he calls his best friend.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

⋆｡°✩ Do Roommates Sleep Together?

“We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but the delicate foundation you built cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt. “Do roommates sleep together too?”

Synopsis: Your relationship with Xavier is unconventional, skipping and trampling on the many proper steps society deems appropriate. It should take months to form the trust needed to sleep together, and it should take years for you to ask him to move in with you.

Yet, here you are, with more courage to ask him to live with you than to tell him you’re in love with him.

Content Warning: fluff, suggestive dialogue, pining, literal sleeping together, a lot of internal exposition, mild angst, hurt/comfort, acquaintances to friends to lovers, implied soulmate tomfoolery to justify the fast burn, small references to chapter 4 main story, Heartstring Symphony, Nighttime Stroll, Shooting Stars Myth, and Unit 602's Representative Phone Call, Xavier sucks at following the non-interference policy (he tried his best), female reader, 6.5k words, safe for work

A/N: First section before Warm Wishes/Dreams within Reach tender moments and second section after Close Feelings tender moment to give a better timeframe. This is going to be two parts with the second part NSFW.

“Do you want to hang out at my place?” 

Your smile begins to flatten as Xavier stares at you from his doorway. There’s a listless energy radiating from him. It’s intimidating even if there’s no anger behind his hooded gaze, the kind of intimidation where you’re afraid he might not be listening to you or even wants to listen to you.

“This new scary movie came out. Tara was supposed to watch with me, but she had a last-minute thing to take care of,” you explain, watching as he yawns and wipes his eyes. “So, I thought that maybe you’d like to watch with me instead. Or, we can do something else. I got games. Monopoly, Phase 10, Kitty Cards.” 

Xavier rubs at the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eye. “Are you sure you want it to be just the two of us?” 

There are many things to be said about your relationship with Xavier. You’re work partners, neighbors in the same apartment complex, and you consider him your friend. It’s also true that your friendship is young despite the many hours at the arcade together and whatever stories your co-workers like to imagine, making your offer sound more like a date invitation than hanging out. It causes you to go tongue-tied as your innocent mistake blankets you.

“Oh, not in that way! I mean not that it would be a bad thing.” You start to lose your composure when you meet his gaze again. It’s not like you wouldn’t go on a date with him if given the opportunity. He’s tall, soft-spoken, and very handsome. It’s more surprising he doesn't have a girlfriend. “I was thinking it could be a good way to foster friendship between hunters. Yeah, that’s it!”

The truth was that you were looking for something to distract yourself ever since the incident at your grandmother’s house. Tara having to cancel bummed you out more than you wanted to admit, but you didn’t want him to agree because he felt sorry for you.

“I understand,” Xavier cuts in. “I’d be happy to join you…in an hour,” he finishes with another small yawn. 

“Great!” you cheer. “See you soon.”

When you make it back to the elevator, you’re taken aback about how happy you are that he agreed. You thought you were simply happy not to have to be alone on your day off, but this was a different kind of satisfaction than when you invited Tara. It was a little strange but you ignored the thought and clicked the button to your floor. 

When Xavier arrives, everything goes as planned. You spread out an array of snacks on the table in front of the sofa, which your selection seems to be approved by how quickly he opens the package of chips and hums to himself when he takes a bite. 

“This is supposed to be super scary! I read you won’t sleep for days after,” you tell him, grabbing the remote to play the movie. 

“For days? Sounds awful,” Xavier mentions between bites, making you chuckle. 

“If you get scared, you always have me to protect you.” 

“I’m more worried about you than me,” he mouths off. “You always look like a statue when I tell you scary stories.”

“Fake movies and stories based on real places are different!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he agrees on the surface. You’re not sure how you only make friends with people who love to tease you, but you make no mention of it as the movie finally reaches its opening sequence. 

It doesn’t take long for you to realize this movie’s fear factor was greatly over exaggerated. There were monsters, sure, but also one too many jump scares and dark scenes that made it hard to tell what was happening. Fighting wanderers for a living did leave you a bit desensitized as well, you guess. 

As you reach to fill in your boredom with more chips, you can’t help but notice how Xavier looks like he’s about to give out any second. His eyes are drooping and his head bobbing to the side. You lose count of how many times he forces his limp body straight and strains to watch the movie playing on the screen, one agonizingly slow blink at a time.

“I’m fine,” he says before you can bring up how tired he looks.

“It’s not a big deal, Xavier. This movie is pretty boring, so if you wanna call it a night, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” You don’t want him to leave yet but you don't want to keep him up either. Sighing, you’re frustrated the movie isn’t as exciting as you thought it would be, and it’s difficult to fight the disappointment from showing on your face. 

And, well, Xavier…

“It’s alright. It’s honestly not bad, so—”

Xavier doesn’t even finish his sentence before his head hangs over. In hindsight, you start to realize that you must have woken him up earlier, explaining his prior passiveness.

You always wondered what he did on the days he wasn’t working. It should’ve been apparent to you that he spends most of his free time sleeping. No wonder his apartment was always so quiet during the day. You’re thankful he wasn’t actually annoyed at you earlier but guilty for interrupting his rest and decide to grab him a blanket.

You don’t notice him tilting to the side before you have the chance to get up. It’s quick after that. Without warning, he falls into you, his head brushing the side of your shoulder before he collapses on top of your lap.

The situation takes you by surprise, and the world churns to a slow stop. The sounds from the television fade into the background in favor of your heartbeat becoming the thing you’re most aware of when it registers that Xavier, a man you recently can call a friend, has fallen asleep in your lap. You have no idea what to do in a situation like this. It isn’t on purpose, so there’s no need to blow up, but you can’t allow this to continue.

So, you choose to wake him up.

“Xavier,” you call and rock his shoulder. You call his name again, a third time, and finally give up when he doesn’t budge by the fourth. “Would it be too mean to roll him off?” you wonder, grimacing as you imagine him hitting the floor. It would definitely be too mean.

Sighing, you gaze at his face nuzzled too comfortably against your thighs. Xavier looks so incredibly soft like this, bundled in an oversized Blanchi hoodie. It isn’t anything you’re not used to seeing him in. However, this is different. With his hair strewn across his temple and his face so at ease, it reminds you of a big fluffy bunny flopped over for an evening nap. Just like a cuddly bunny, you can’t resist petting him, brushing your fingers across his bangs to fix them. Your heart flutters as you confirm his hair is incredibly soft and his pale eyelashes longer than you ever noticed.

Not able to restrain yourself, you gently poke his cheek, marveling when it’s much chubbier than you imagined. It causes him to moan, his eyes twitching from the intrusion.

“Mm…what?” he groans out.

Swiftly, you pull your hand away, frightened he might have caught you.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” you stammer out, not the best of excuses; but in your defense, he caught you off-guard by waking up from something so small. When he doesn’t respond again, you quickly realize he’s still asleep. “Oh, he sleep talks!”

A mischievous wave washes over you from the new piece of information you acquired. Teasingly, you poke his cheek again, giggling when he shifts to hide his eyes from the light.

“Xavier, I have a question to ask you.” You slide your fingertips along his bangs once more. “Be honest. Are you Lumiere?”

Patiently, you wait for a response. However, nothing comes after several seconds. Just when you’re about to give up hope, you hear him muttering. You lean your head closer, hoping to hear him better.

“Red…” he mumbles.

You repeat after him. “Red?”

“Red…extra spicy.”

You blink at him, knitting your brows. “Extra spicy?”

Oh. The hot pot restaurant.

“Dreaming about food? That tracks.” You shrug. It was worth a shot. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

Choosing to leave him be, you’re about to sit back and continue the movie except you are interrupted by him mumbling again. This time, he whispers your name quietly under his breath causing your undivided attention to fall on him.

“Yes?” you ask.

Xavier sighs softly, peacefully.

“Come home…with me…”

There must be a world record for how fast someone can heat up, and you must have broken it. It’s like someone threw you directly into boiling oil and left you to burn in it. There’s no way you heard him correctly.

Did Xavier really ask you to come home…with him? Is he dreaming about you? If so, in what kind of dream? And why?

These are the questions stumping you. Sure, you consider him your friend, but when did he start to see you as someone close to him?

The more important question is why aren’t you doing anything about it? You aren’t angry about him whispering your name in his sleep nor offended, and it didn’t feel out of place to be close to him, like this, with his head resting in your lap and your hand in his hair. The moment becomes nicer and nicer—treasured—the more times you run it through your head, familiar even, like déjà vu.

There are too many variables for your brain to piece it all together in such a short amount of time. Praying for the tempest battering your emotional insides to reside, you resign yourself to your fate, allowing him to have his peace while your mind completely focuses on the words slipping from his dreams.

When Xavier begins to stir hours later, your movie is long finished, credits rolling as some dramatic music plays in the background. His eyes tighten then relax before he finally opens them, greeting you with hazy blue. He lifts himself into a stretch then rubs his eyes with his wrist. When he finally adjusts to his surroundings, he looks at you with an apologetic sulk.

“Did I…fall asleep on you?” he asks, grogginess still riding his voice.

“Literally or figuratively?” you ask as a joke, but it doesn’t seem to comfort him. Shaking your head, you try to ease the tension—the one known by him and the tension inside of yourself—by laughing. “It was both.”

Xavier blinks a few times, turns his head to the screen to see the credits rolling, and snaps his eyes back on you questioningly. “And you let me for two hours?”

“You looked really tired,” you explain, ignoring how hot your cheeks start to get. You couldn’t tell him you got distracted by his cute face. “I didn’t want to move and wake you.”

“I don’t wake that easily,” he states, proudly even. You almost tell him how well everyone knows he can sleep through a typhoon, but it’s drowned underneath the softness of his smile. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The look he gives you is so tender, like looking at a fond memory. It brings back the fluttering knots in your stomach from before as you imagine what could be the true reason behind that gaze. What could he possibly be thinking in his waking moments that would make him dream about you?

“Xavier, do you know you talk in your sleep?” The confused and panicked, deer caught in headlights expression, he gives causes you to fidget with your fingers and drop your gaze to your lap where they lay.

His face tinges slightly. “Nothing too embarrassing I hope.”

You bite your bottom lip as his face reddens. He looks so sweetly shy for once, and you’re starting to question if you’re overreacting by confronting him about something as silly as a dream, one that probably didn’t mean much.

“You tried to order food in your sleep!” you tell him with a small laugh, and his shyness melts away.

“I did? What did I get?”

“Red sauce. Extra Spicy.”

“Then, I guess that’s what I’ll get for dinner tonight,” he remarks. He doesn’t laugh but you can see the amusement reflected in blue eyes, which makes you return his happiness. Yet, the calm moment is short-lived as your mind becomes overwhelmed again by questions you were too nervous to ask; and a small piece of you, too afraid to know the answer.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, drawing you out of your rampant, clashing thoughts. “You look sick.”

“I do?”

He nods, his expression softening.

”Are you still thinking about everything?" he pauses, his worry becoming more visible as he looks at you. "It must be difficult.” Your head blanks at his words. You weren’t aware Xavier gave you enough attention to notice your mood was different. You thought you did okay coming to terms with everything at least while at work to where he wouldn’t notice. 

“It’s been a pretty rough week, weeks, actually. I haven’t been sleeping well either,” you agree, struggling to keep your mind anywhere else but there. You’re sure you must look exhausted though. Your under eyes have been darker, the days you could convince Jenna you didn’t need any more leave a bit sluggish, and even Zayne warned you not to lose yourself in grief. It’s easier said than done.

What you don’t expect is for Xavier to grab your wrist and pull you closer.

Xavier normally isn’t the one to draw you, or others for that matter, to him. You’re the one who's been taking the steps to get to know more about him. Offering to help him get his plushie, bargaining with him into becoming your partner, asking him to watch movies with you, while he always seems to keep you a little at arms length, not opening up as much as you wish when sharing stories even when sometimes he looks like he desperately wants to before deciding against it.

Your eyes widen when your nose hits the side of his chest. It's strange to have him be the one pulling, failing to keep his boundaries and also testing them. You don’t want to push him away though. You liked this. Maybe because he was handsome. You hear pretty people can get away with anything, but it feels like more than that. Tara might have been right. Maybe you do have a crush on him but you didn’t care the reason right now when it’s so comforting. You can feel his muscles underneath the thick, warm fabric of his hoodie, and the clothing smells so nice. You can’t help thinking he definitely feels like a bunny too.

“Sleeping is much better with someone.” 

“How do you know?” you mumble against him.

“Well, I just had the best sleep I’ve had in days thanks to you. So, allow me to return the favor. I’ll be your pillow this time,” he offers; and surprisingly, your eyes do feel oddly heavy when his soothing voice reaches you. “Relax. I promise not to move for at least two hours, but you can take more if you like.”

”How kind,” you say with a smile, and it feels genuine.

Once again, you get the same familiar sensation from before, that same odd suspicion this has happened once before—or rather it’s supposed to happen? You’re too tired to think about it. You close your eyes to the most blissful dreams you’ve had in weeks.

When you wake up again, it’s not by choice. Xavier is looking down at you, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulders as your head lays on his chest. Your mind is still trapped halfway between being awake and asleep when he begins to talk.

“Welcome back. Did you sleep well?”

You nod. “Real well actually."

Xavier says something else but your tired mind misses the majority of it aside from the fact it’s getting late.

“You can spend the night if you want,” you tell him, allowing sleep to win back over as you try to close your eyes again, but he lifts you away from him, your head swaying with the motion until you find a place to prop your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind echoes with the thought of how soft his hoodie is and how you need one like it as you try to drift back off. Xavier is right. Sleeping with someone else is better, and this closeness you’ve been missing since you lost your family makes you needy. 

“It probably wouldn’t be appropriate.”

For some reason, it hurts to think he's back to pushing you away. Even though, it shouldn't.

“But you didn’t get a chance to watch the movie,” you reply, looking for an excuse for him not to leave. “It’s a 48-hour rental, so we can try again.”

Xavier shakes his head, gently poking at your forehead to force your head back. “I’m sure it’ll be twice as boring for you the second time.”

“If we watch it together…”

He meets your foggy gaze apologetically. “I don’t think we’d get very far.” 

“We won’t know until we try,” you argue drowsily. 

“You don’t look like you’d make it another ten minutes. You belong in bed.”

“I can,” you whimper as the too-bright lights of the overhead fan hit you. 

“Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result,” he murmurs softly, almost teasingly until his tone takes on a seriousness you’re too lethargic to grasp, “Isn’t that insanity?”

“I like to call it determination. Who knows? Maybe this will be the time it works,” you joke. Instead of the smile you expected the look on his face is pensive and a little sad, like you touched a delicate spot. The sudden remorse wakes you up almost immediately. “Xavier?”

When he realizes you’re watching him, the longing in his gaze melts into something you can’t describe, other than the fact it makes your heart climb in your throat. 

“Alright,” he agrees, much to your surprise and relief. “Let’s try again…but tomorrow.”

Frowning, you avert your gaze, which makes him pet your head. 

“Don’t pout. Tonight, I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, moving back to rest your head against his chest.

Maybe your grandma wouldn’t have liked you getting so close to a man you didn’t know much about so quickly. Caleb would at least have a few questions, but your intuition tells you that you’re making the right choice when his arm goes back around you. As you start to drift off, you can swear you hear Xavier laughing at you under his breath. “You’re as impossible to say no to as always.”

You’re not entirely sure what time Xavier went back to his apartment that night, but the next morning you wake in your bed, looking forward to seeing him again. You only hope the sweet and confusing fact that you’re in love with him, of the parts he shows you when you’re alone, stays in your dreams the next night and the many nights following that you share with him.

Over the months, as your relationship with Xavier grows stronger, you find it common to share many things with each other. You play online games, house sit for one another, grow strawberries, and usually go home together after your deepspace trials. Most interestingly, you two take naps together on your days off sometimes, nothing sexual about it despite what Tara and her Tarot cards believe. Sure, there might have been questionable situations, but it was all innocent in the end. It's often a short nap in the afternoon after running errands or having lunch together. It's one of those days that you finally build the courage to bring up what's been on your mind for a while now. 

It's late when it happens.

The skyscraper lights begin to glow through your balcony door, blinking out the gentle shimmering of distant stars that managed to cut through the trickling rain earlier in the evening. It’s a little disappointing to lose sight of the stars. They’d become a comfort for you in the time you’ve spent with your friend. You'd never given them much thought before then.

The downpour of rain splattering against the glass panels of the balcony makes the city lights milkier to your sight and the steady dripping of water returns some form of calmness when paired with your neighbor’s breathing next to you.

It’s deep and warm, ushering you towards the world of dreams. Everything about Xavier is like a white noise or a desperately needed hug, which is why you’re curled up at his side in this bed that’s too small for the both of you. You didn’t care, and you suspected Xavier didn’t either.

He didn’t mention the smallness of the bed when you offered to take a nap together nor when your head found the bulge of his bicep to use as your pillow. You didn’t give him time to respond when one of your hands slid across his lean chest, reaching for his always subtle pulse. You find the lazy pattering easy to count while the heat in the sheets become much more apparent when you feel the weight of his touch cradle that very same hand to his chest as if promising every beat to you.

Everything about the situation causes your eyes to flutter with tiredness, but you want to savor this moment a little longer. In case this is all an elaborate dream. You hope to death it’s not. So, you force your eyes to remain open, releasing a soft sigh instead as you cuddle into his arm.

Too soon, you feel Xavier slipping further away from you.

You don’t want him to go yet. More than ever, a force inside you needs him to stay tonight, and you lock your grip on the white knit shirt he wears. You tug him back over to you to close this unbearable distance he made. The few little inches he moved were more than enough to cause your heart to yearn.

“Not yet,” you want to plead but make it a soft demand. “I just found the perfect spot.” You muffle the neediness of your requests into his skin, though your head is afraid that somehow he’ll feel it.

“You always use that excuse.”

“And it’s always true. So, no moving,” you order.

Xavier gives in so wonderfully quickly. Your heart is rapidly firing when the corners of his lips turn into his usual waif-like smile. You fail at hiding your satisfaction at his surrender, pressing more of your weight against him, in a sure sign to him that you have no intention of letting him escape any time soon.

“I take this to mean you’re finally admitting it’s your fault we didn’t do our errands today?”

“I never said that,” you disagree half-heartedly. “And don't pretend like you weren't the one who kept saying he didn't feel like getting up earlier.”

“And now that I do, you won’t let me up. Am I right? Why’s that?”

There’s a beat skipping in your chest when he asks. His tone is light and open, easy to treat as a teasing joke but also firm enough to be taken seriously. That was always your trouble with him. You could never quite tell what he was thinking and when he was serious. Xavier is hard to understand sometimes, sometimes vague and sometimes very straightforward in his words; and lately, you think he’s consistently more hot than cold towards you ever since the first time you've slept together.

You like to think this development is a good thing. People who knew you always said you worked a little too hard, a little too observant, overly energetic despite your fragile heart; but with Xavier, you could relax. Moments like these: when his arm was around you and when his breath was at the side of your neck, the soft words he speaks in his sleep dancing in your mind, were the moments when patrolling for wanderers and every loss in your life from your family to your problematic heart dissipated into the back of your mind for a few hours.

It isn’t an exaggeration to believe his influence must have been the cause, at least when it comes to this. But your influence is seeping into him as well. Given his loner habits when you first met and his frequent disappearing acts, you never pictured him as one to be so sweet and considerate and adorably charming in a way.

However, you can’t tell him that you enjoy…sleeping with him. You have a strong feeling he already knows how much you like him. Or, you’d like to think he does with the way he constantly seems to hint at it. He can make you flustered with a few words and easily leave you guessing if you’re reading too much into his actions or if he’s really that good at baiting you. It could also be a little of column A and a little of column B, which somehow makes you more antsy around him. Like how you feel now when his eyes meet yours.

“It’s supposed to be cold tonight,” you whisper. It’s a poor excuse but the only one you can use to defend yourself. “They say the best way to fend off the chill is body heat. Who better for that task than you, dear partner?”

“Many things, I assume, a portable heater comes to mind,” he says, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s slyly teasing you behind that naive tone.

“Right, right, those things,” you grumble causing him to laugh as you hide your bashful face against him. “So loud, you know?”

“Are they? Alright, then five more minutes should be doable,” he says in the same low voice that makes your insides boil before his arm lowers to curl around your back. “Although, you’re too comfortable.”

His ears tinge in a lovely rose-colored blush, and you shudder when he finally fails to maintain eye contact and quickly scans your body. It’s slow enough for you to catch though. It makes your chest tight as you watch his quiet inhale and the murky flash of want dye his eyes shades darker before they fade back into clear pools of blue, big and pleading as he studies your face. 

“I might end up falling asleep here.”

It’s a warning, to make you think about the meaning of your actions, you think. However, this isn’t the first time this has happened nor the first time you spent a rainy day inside with each other; the kitchen counter lined with empty take-out trays, with his body heat radiating into you while a long-forgotten movie plays in the background.

It’ll continue like that until one of you is finally coherent enough after drowsy naps to try to piece together who fell asleep on whom first or who is making the other too hot. Neither of you wants to accept the fault without a lot of bickering; that’s if Xavier doesn’t fall back asleep mid-debate.

Even this time, you’re not sure who managed to drift off to sleep first earlier but neither of you tried to get up, let alone leave the house, until now. Ah, but it was your idea to use the bed this time, wasn’t it?

But it was his choice to agree.

Even now, he looks very peaceful nestled with you, and he still whispers your name in his sleep sometimes, which reminds you of the first time you slept together and he dreamt about wanting you to come home with him.

When you’re like this, you want the same thing. You want him to come home…with you.

“Xavier?” you ask quietly. You wonder if he’s fallen asleep already like he said. Carefully, you free your hand from his hold, slide it up his chest, and begin to draw smooth circles with your pointer finger once you reach his cheek. There’s a soft response from him, barely a moan but it’s enough to know he’s not out of it yet, at least not completely. “I’ve been thinking.”

The air is suddenly stifling when he engulfs the top of your hand with his own, holding it tighter as if he’s upset that you moved it out of his grasp in the first place, but it’s not the case as he affectionately seals your palm against his cheek.

“About what?”

The look he gives you makes it hard not to stumble over your thoughts like a schoolgirl despite being very much an adult.

“Wouldn’t…” You pause to steady your voice; you have to force yourself to not avoid his gaze, but each small movement makes your throat tighten. There’s no doubt you have his full attention now, at least what little remains of it. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we…move in together?”

You’re not sure where the courage to ask him a question like that comes from when you’re too unsure to even confess or to ask what the two of you even are but you didn’t have this fear of rejection until now.

“How would it be easier?”

“Well,” you start, unsure why you’re surprised that he’d want a reason. “We’re always visiting one another, and you made me your representative at the tenant meetings, so everyone already treats us like we’re a combined unit. It would also save me trips on watering your plants when you’re away or when you want to come over to eat. We could save money. Money that could be spent at the arcade or on more hot pot.”

There’s a quiet atmosphere that makes you too uneasy. The thrumming of rain grows louder in it along with the beating in your chest that’s telling you that this was stupid. Is it possible to be drunk on endorphins? Perhaps that’s what gave you the idea to ask something so foolish; you’d have to get Zayne to examine your empty head and tell you.

But then, Xavier smiles.

“Those are good reasons especially more hot pot, and I’m sure all the plushies would feel better if they shared a home again.”

Your anxiety lessens and you share in his smile. Luckily, you managed not to ruin everything it looks like.

“But.” Slowly, the inklings of self-doubt begin to return. A but. There’s always one of those. You should’ve expected as much. “If we move in together then we wouldn’t really be “neighbors” anymore.”

“Oh, um—” You become staggered by his observation, even more so when he interlocks your fingers. It’s another time when you’re not entirely sure if he’s being serious or not. His innocent puppy-eyed expression doesn’t help you differentiate either. It always makes your mind wander to more inappropriate topics—like the fact Xavier told you he didn’t believe that other neighbors acted like you two. The memory nearly makes you squirm. In this position, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but that delicate foundation cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt.

“Do roommates sleep together too?”

There’s a shine of amusement that makes his face glow and heat claw higher up your neck. You know the question should be taken literally but when he words it like that…with that warm implicative inflection to his voice, you’re unable to think properly, and you realize that maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him the benefit of the doubt this time.

“I’m sure some do,” you answer with some courage, “I’d imagine at least once a week.”

“I believe we’re up to twice a week now. So, if we become roommates, I think we have to do it at least that many times, otherwise I’m afraid I’m going to have to reject your offer.”

“Two times?” you repeat, silently begging the flapping of butterflies in your stomach to calm down at the suggestion, at the implication that he enjoys sleeping with you just as much as you do with him. It makes this strong emotion in your chest blossom even further. “I can manage that.”

“Additional proposal,” he interrupts suddenly. “Perhaps, three times? I can even throw in a pair of those fuzzy socks that I can never manage to find after you visit,” he adds coyly.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re around your apartment somewhere,” you quickly respond before releasing the buildup of nervous air in your lungs. You smile. “Proposal accepted. Shared naps three times a week minimum.”

“In that case,” he breathes in softly, and he slips his hand down releasing all your fingers except for your pinky that he wraps into his own. “I think I would like to be your roommate.”

Inside, there’s unadulterated joy beginning to flood you. You know that this agreement will require a more in-depth discussion that Xavier will probably try to gloss over but this is enough for you right now.

“We should take tonight to practice for our move.”

Confused, you raise your eyebrows. “Practice?”

He nods.

“Sleeping together overnight. We did a few times before, well, only twice in the same bed, once in yours and once in mine,” he explains. You definitely have the clearest memory of that time, of bandaging his wounds, of cluelessly pinning him down shirtless on his bed before he turned the tables on you, and then—you remind yourself to resist going over the details, not with him this close to you. Somehow, Xavier is the one who looks the most insecure between the two of you. Finally, he whispers, “I haven’t forgotten even if it was a long time ago.”

His eyes are half-lidded, cloudy with thought. Something about him looks restrained and longing but it disappears when you finally swallow your swelling emotions and call out his name. There’s a twinkle of adoration that blows away whatever doubt there as he focuses on you again.

“I think about it when I have a hard time sleeping on overnight missions.” Xavier turns and slides his arm from under your head, choosing to lay on his side to face you. “It makes it a lot easier to rest in the hunting zones when you have good memories like that. So, it's nice to have a chance to make more."

“I don’t think I could fall asleep at all if I thought of something like that,” you admit, as close to an admission of your love for him as you could muster without mountains of alcohol. “I’d just think about how much I’d rather be home with them.”

“And now? Are you having trouble sleeping?” he asks huskily, and you have to fight not to keep staring at his lips and the dire need to kiss them as you breathe each other in. You reach out, touching his bare collar then instinctively searching for his slow pulse, counting it to calm yourself from the rush of adrenaline building in you.

You’re not even sure when you breathed out the “yes” that echoes softly from your mouth. His lips are so close to yours that you’re sure he could catch it in his breath if he wanted.

“How about I tell you a story to help you fall asleep?” He sees your hesitation and laughs under his breath. “I promise it’ll be much better than the last one.”

Accepting his offer, you agree to listen to him.

Xavier nods and gently swoops the back of his hand against your forehead and then your cheek before cupping it. There’s a gentle squeeze, and you think you understand why he likes it so much when you do it.

“Once, there was a beautiful queen and a knight,” he begins. “They lived together in a palace far away.”

“And they fall in love and live happily ever after?” you question, too busy in the full and fuzzy sensations filling your being to hold back.

“No, they were separated from each other for a long time,” Xavier corrects but his expression softens at the trickling concern building on your face. “Don’t worry. They meet again and become neighbors.”

“And then?”

“They become roommates,” he states matter-of-factly, which causes you to chuckle at him. You can’t even be bothered to care that he’s poking fun at you.

“Then, happily ever after?”

“I don’t know yet,” he answers, causing you to frown and your face to wrinkle with a sullen expression. His head tilts further into the plush of the pillow. “But you can help me figure out the ending.”

Feeling exhausted from the cathartic flow of emotions from him to you, you wiggle into him and throw your arm across his waist. “There’d probably be a lot of naps and stargazing involved,” you mumble before a tiny yawn.

“Sounds like a happy ending to me. It's good to finally see it,” he agrees, and you sigh when you feel a strong squeeze around your waist. “Although, you forgot to mention the part where the queen promises to not get out of bed without waking him this time.”

You giggle. “She promises not to get up without her knight.”

Content, he hums. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"

"I think so after a story like that," you confess, reaching out to brush his hair back so you can see his eyes more clearly. "Then again, I always sleep good with you."

"You’ll sleep best when we're close, right?"

You gasp when he shifts on top of you. His lips briefly brush your forehead, by accident or not, you can’t tell as he pins you between himself and the bed. With a stutter, you call out his name yet he pays no heed as he nuzzles his head into your hair.

“Good night, roommate.”

“Xav-!” You pout when he instantly slumps against you. There’s no point trying to wake him up now that his five minutes of alertness have long expired.

Settling your chin against the top of his shoulder, you hook your arms under his to hug him against your chest. Your forearms settle at his mid-back as you hold him close so you can gently brush the ends of his hair.

When you ultimately decide to give in minutes after him, it’s to the warmth of his weight on top of you, the tickle of his hair against your forehead, and the increased pulsing of his heart. Xavier was right, this is too comfortable. Letting your eyes fall close, you wonder if three times a week would really be enough to satisfy this strangely familiar craving. You only wish that the two of you could meet in your dreams like he says, but it's enough knowing you'll have each other in the morning and then on.

“…Good night, Xavier. Sweet dreams,” you whisper before you too give into sleep’s spell.

[seeingivy]

sisters

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

TW: minor mentions of violence/parental abuse!! also this is suggestive pls read at your own discretion!!

--

“so did i grow another head or are you meeting up with sammy later?” 

“what? how did you even know about that?” 

sukuna lazily leans against you, still half asleep, as he breathes into your neck, a string of unintelligible noises coming out of his throat. you can tell that it’s still too early for him – and that your racket or your absence must have woken him up. you reach up, running one of your hands through his hair, before pressing a halfhearted kiss to his cheek and returning to your typing. 

“google calendar.” sukuna responds. 

you smile. 

“i didn’t realize you actually looked at that.” 

sukuna reaches forward, slamming the screen of your computer down, as you roll your eyes and lean against him. 

“sukuna.” 

“you can study in bed, y’know.” he responds. 

“that’ll distract you, with the typing and the shuffling of papers and all that.” 

“well, it’s already fucking distracting when i wake up and you’re not next to me, so…same shit.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“stop being dramatic. i could easily spend the weekend at my own place and you’d sleep just fine.” you respond. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you basically live here now, i’d obviously notice if you just disappeared.” he deadpans. 

you pause, clutching your pencil in your hand, before spinning it around in your palm. you can feel sukuna lean off of you, your silence clueing him in, as he now intently stares at you with his brown eyes, drowning in irritation. he’s clearly awake now. 

“what are you thinking about?” he asks. 

“nothing.” 

“well, it’s certainly not nothing. and i’m almost positive it’s something annoying because you’re not telling me.” he responds, poking into your cheek. 

you sigh. 

“should i be paying rent? because…i really am here all the time…s’kind of unfair if you’re the one paying for the place when i stole all of your closet space and your bed and –” 

“you’re making it sound like you’re such a nuisance to me. contrary to your beliefs, i actually love that you’re using my closet and that you take my jackets sometimes. and in my opinion, the only place you should be is in my bed anyway, so.” 

sukuna can tell that you’re not really buying it. 

“can you let me cover our groceries? i literally eat all of your food too. and –” 

“it’s our food. i made it for you.” he complains. 

“i’m probably emptying out your bank account and you’re just letting me. you should just –” 

sukuna reaches for your legs, before sliding you sideways on the chair so that you’re facing him. and he takes his residence in between your legs, cupping his hands around your face, and angling your chin up so that you’re looking at him. 

“you’re about to graduate. how about…you start splitting rent with me when you aren’t living in your dorm and you’re officially living with me? it doesn’t make sense to pay for two places right now.” 

you bite down on the softness of your cheek. 

“are you…asking me to move in with you?”

“you already live here.” he deadpans. 

“no. but then we’d have to put me on the lease. i’d-i’d actually live here live here.” 

“well, were you really thinking about moving back home? you would hate that.” 

“i mean no. but i was going to look for an apartment and roommates and –” 

“i have an apartment right here. i would be a great roommate – i feed you and i kiss you when you’re sad, which seems like a win win to me. but if it feels too fast for you to move in with me in a few months, that’s okay with me. i will help you apartment hunt if it comes to it.” 

you frown. 

“do you think people will judge us for moving in together so fast? i mean, by the time i graduate, it’ll only have been like…like half a year? and we still haven’t –” 

“do you think it’s weird?” 

“i mean, no but –” 

“what other people say doesn’t matter. if you want to live here when june comes around, that’s really no one else’s business. i’m not going to murder you, i won’t be a bad roommate, and that’s kind of all that matters.” 

you smile. 

“do you want to live with me?” 

“you. already. live. here.” he responds. 

“no, but like. joint lease. like actually living here. you know you won’t be able to break up with me for like two years because we’ll be stuck here, right?”

“well, i was obviously not planning on breaking up with you, so that won’t be a problem, will it?” 

you pause. 

“i guess not.” 

sukuna gives you a satisfied smile, before dropping his hand from your face to the chain hanging around your neck. you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm as he admires the little charms on the necklace he gave you, running his fingers over them. 

“what?” you ask. 

“you’re still wearing it.” 

“are you crazy? i have to wear this forever now. i’m never going to take it off.” 

“okay, but…i do take mine to get cleaned every few months so you will eventually have to take it off.” 

you roll your eyes, as you bring one of your hands up to his, and squeeze. 

“so…i’m taking your big avoidance of the question as a confirmation that you really are seeing sammy later?” 

you sigh. 

“yeah. i’ve been trying to make plans with her for two weeks and she was finally able to pencil me in.” 

sukuna pulls up the chair next to you, sitting on it backwards, as he leans his chin against the back of the chair. he’s playing with the rings on your fingers, twisting them back and forth, as he listens. 

“okay, but why? do i have to roam around in the mall at the same time as you guys just to save you in case she’s a bitch?” 

“don’t call her a bitch, sukuna.” you groan. 

sukuna’s eyes widen, as he jokingly presses his hands to your face and starts shaking your head. 

“who are you and what did you do to my girlfriend?” 

you swat his hands off, as you narrow your eyes at him. 

“stop it! i’m just…trying to be nicer to her. you should be too, she’s still my sister.” 

“wow. what brought on this sudden need to reconcile with the devil?” 

“sukuna!” 

“okay, okay, i’m done.” 

you pause, leaning your cheek against the cold tile of the kitchen island. it bites into your skin, the shrill cold making the hairs on the ends of your arm stand up. 

“you know how we hate that yuuji is so…so one track minded when it comes to you and me? how he kind of pushes his own feelings into what he thinks about us and that…that a lot of them are really immature things from when you guys were kids?” 

“yeah.” 

“it would be hypocritical of me to hate yuuji for doing that when i do the same thing to my own sister.” 

sukuna raises his eyebrows. 

“do you?” 

“i think so. i’m just…i don’t know. i feel like dating you has made me more self aware.” 

“well, obviously. i’m the epitome of emotional intelligence.” 

“shut up! i was just saying because…well, i know why yuuji harbors so much dislike for you now that you’re dating me.”  

sukuna pauses, leaning forward like he’ll almost miss it if he isn’t close enough to hear it. 

“he thought it was really careless when you left for europe, that you just thought about yourself and no one else. he thought it was really unfair because he still needed you to be there for him and you weren’t anymore.” 

sukuna can feel the guilt pooling in his chest. 

“but now that i’m dating you…and i know why you left, i feel like he’s really immature. i know that yuuji needed you but you were still a kid too. it wasn’t your responsibility to take care of him and he can’t get mad at you for that. you were your own person and you picked what was right for you.” 

sukuna reaches forward and cups one of your cheeks. you lean into the warmth of his hand, before pressing a kiss to his palm. 

“that’s why i hated sammy. that she would try to be fake and act like she was the best, when i knew she was getting drunk every weekend in highschool. i…i was always embarrassed because really, i just wanted her to take care of me the way you took care of yuuji. but that wasn’t her job and really, she still did that when it really mattered, anyways.” 

“what do you mean?” 

“that time i told you about, where i got caught in that car with mazzy and got in trouble. they called my mom, but…but sammy was the one who picked up. she was the one who came and got me and i had to tell her everything. i was expecting for her to tell me what everyone kind of did at that time, that he was a bad guy so what did i expect from being with him?” 

“but?” 

“but she just took me home and told me to take a shower. made me a really nice dinner. it meant a lot to me at the time, i-i basically started sobbing when she handed me my food because it just felt so nice to be around someone who just wanted to take care of me. she never even asked me twice about it, just…just kind of did what i needed.”  

sukuna presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles. 

“we’re older now. i want us to be better and just…be friends at least? i don’t know, i just think i’ve been really unfair to her when i’ve never even stopped to ask her if she needed anything from me.” 

“well, you can start by asking her today.” sukuna offers. 

you smile. 

“yeah. yeah, i can.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“so what i’m hearing is…i’m the best, most self aware boyfriend ever who –” 

“oh, calm down, narcissus. just when i think your ego can’t get bigger you go and start staying stuff like that.” 

--

you wait for sammy across from the little donut shop at the mall. you get a set of two donuts – a maple bar for her and a sugar one for you – as you swing your legs over the bench and rehearse your little script in your head. 

it felt a little evil given the conversation you had with sukuna earlier in the day, but you had a favor you desperately needed to ask her. 

and surely enough, she comes right on time, hands shoved in her pockets as she gives you a halfhearted smile. you jump up, unsure if you should hug her or shake hands and then there’s too much of a pause when you don’t say anything. 

“are you okay?” she asks.

“hm? yeah! yeah. how are you? also, i got you a donut. and it’s maple, your favorite! and –” 

you pause – too much. but she fills the silence. 

“you’re rambling.” she states, as she plops down on the bench. 

she shoots you a grateful smile as she picks up the donut from the box, perfectly wrapped in the napkin, and takes a bite out of it. you mimic her motions, maybe scarfing down yours faster than you should have, from the nervousness. 

she hates you. 

“jesus. is this the first time you ate today? do i have to slap sukuna for not feeding my little sister properly?” 

sammy reaches forward, an annoyed look on her face, as she wipes away the sugar around the edges of your mouth – and you shoot her a grateful smile, that she halfheartedly acknowledges, as you lean back on the bench. 

“how’d you know about sukuna?” 

sammy rolls her eyes. 

“kisa. she was going on and on about how the ryomen sukuna is dating sammy’s little sister. half of the town knows by now, including the moms, who are planning to invite you to some big dinner where they start talking about your wedding.” 

“huh? my what?” 

“you should thank me, bitch. they were actually talking about your grandchildren and i told them that they need to tone it back fifty notches or you both won’t ever talk to them again.” 

“well, sukuna definitely won’t if they say that.” 

“tell me about it.” she responds. 

you shoot her a grateful smile, heart warm that she had thought to advocate for you in the slightest, as you prep yourself to say your entire spiel. 

“i asked you a question. is he good to you?” sammy asks. 

“what?” 

“sukuna. is he good to you or do i have to mutilate him?” 

you smile and she returns it back, leaning back in her chair and hiking her legs to her chest. 

“really good. i really love him.” you respond. 

sammy smiles. 

“i know.” 

“what do you mean you know?” 

“first and foremost, that poor kid has been so hopelessly wet in his pants for you since he was like a kid. do you remember that one birthday where he got you a bike that he built from scratch? second, i did hear him call you a pretty girl that one dinner he came to right before you started chewing him out.” 

you cringe. 

“oh god. we’re not actually like that – i was being really stupid that day. i just…” 

“no, it was really funny. he came back looking like a kicked dog when mom asked him to leave.” 

you smile. 

“i bet.” 

you pause. you had to be honest. 

“we actually don’t fight that much, that was just one of the rare times. i just got kind of jealous. of you. when the moms were suggesting that you date him and you were buying into it. i thought he was actually going to do it and i just…got irritated and yelled at him. and trust me, i was even worse when we got home before i calmed down, so…” 

sammy scoffs. 

“i don’t want to date your boyfriend.” 

“i know! it…it was my problem. i clearly have issues with insecurities, especially when it comes to you because of how the moms were sometimes, and i know that it’s my fault.” 

sammy raises her eyes.

“what?” 

“well, i don’t know. i mean, i feel like i’ve had big problems with what people have thought of me since i was a kid. but i always felt like they liked you better, and that because they liked you they couldn’t like me, and sometimes it made me resent you. and it was unfair, because, because…that’s not really your fault.” 

sammy sighs, before demolishing her donut by splitting it in half. 

“well, that’s not entirely true.” 

“hm?” 

“that’s not true. sometimes…i did do it on purpose. sometimes, i got a kick out of the fact that for once that…someone liked me instead of you.” 

“you’re kidding.” you deadpan. 

“i’m really not though. because you tend to forget, that i didn’t have friends like you did when you were a kid. you met yuuji the first day we moved into that house. sukuna basically followed you around after that. the three of you were friends and…and i was never included. so if the parents were the ones who liked to be around me, then…then that’s where i was going to be.” 

you pause.

the worst part of it was that sammy was always your dad’s favorite. and he’s the one who picked up and left. 

“you forget that your best friend before yuuji was me, y/n. i’m sorry that i was a bitch to you and maybe made some of your insecurities worse…but you did it to me first. i wasn’t exactly mature at that age so i just…that’s just what i did.” 

you lean back, unable to stop thinking about it now. that when you and yuuji wanted to go to the park, sukuna was always the one who took you guys – and that sammy was the one who stayed behind. how you really can’t remember a time where it was ever the four of you, but hundreds of times that sukuna had followed behind you and yuuji under the guise of taking care of you. 

and then you feel horrible. because every time you got drunk in highschool, yuuji was always there covering for you, making sure that you made it home safe with water and aspirin in your system, when you almost always found sammy half passed out on the porch before you had to drag her back into the house before your mom noticed. 

that maybe, sammy knew exactly how to take care of you that night she had to pick you up, because it was exactly what she had been longing for someone to do for her. 

“i’m a really shitty sister, aren’t i?” you ask.  

“yeah. but i am too, so…can’t really blame yourself there.” 

“are you? because…because i literally abandoned you.” 

“and i took it out on you and your friends after the fact so, relax. we’re both shitty people, it’s not a big deal.” 

you pause. you suppose that she’s right. 

“i was going to ask something really cheesy but i know you’d get really annoyed.” you state. 

sammy curls her nose up in disgust. 

“like what?” 

“well, i was going to ask if we were going to be friends now? and –” 

“you exercised the correct judgment. that’s disgusting, y/n.” 

but then sammy brings her hand up and rests it against the top of your head, before brushing the stray hairs around your face to the backs of your ears. and you smile, feeling so oddly taken care of that it makes your heart warm. 

“god. he really is good for you, isn’t he?” 

“who?”

“pablo picasso. obviously, sukuna.” sammy responds, tone bitingly sarcastic. 

“why do you say that?” 

“dunno. we’re hanging out right now. talking about our feelings. if he makes you realize that you’re jealous of me and indirectly makes us talk about our…whatever…then he must be good for you. that and the fact that he’s been obsessed with you since forever so, he must be on top of the world.” 

you smile. 

“i don’t know. i kind of thought that some part of me was…ruined after what happened back then. like i came with this big thing that someone else would have to come to terms with if they were going to be with me.” 

sammy glares at you, but you can tell that it’s laced with concern. that she thinks you’re being stupid. 

“what?” 

“i just mean. i always knew i’d have problems from my past relationship in my current one. and that maybe someone wouldn’t love me enough to be patient, because i would struggle so much.” 

sammy sighs. 

“but?” 

“but, he’s so patient. sammy, sometimes i don’t even know what i did to deserve him. he’s…he does things just because he knows they’ll make me happy, even if he hates them, and…and he’s always so understanding about everything. he never pushes, he’s always so sweet and just –” 

“it’s what you deserve.” 

“what?” 

“it’s what you should have had the first time.” sammy states. 

you pause.

“yeah. but it almost makes me more grateful for him now. it’s almost like…i had to know the bad to really appreciate the good? and it makes it sweeter? i don’t know, i obviously wouldn’t have wanted it to happen if i had the choice, but i’m just really…really grateful for him.” you respond. 

“i’m sure that means the world to him.” 

“what do you mean?” 

sammy nearly cringes. 

“well, you know how his dad was. i’m sure it makes his entire life that someone actually appreciates him.” 

you nod. 

“i was going to call him after this actually. tell him that if he ever hurts my little sister, who is my friend now, i’m going to cut his dick off. but…same for you. sometimes i forget how much he suffered at the hands of his dad when he was little. he deserves good just as much as you do.” 

you feel a shiver down your spine. on a topic you had yet to broach with sukuna. on the times that he’d fight so bad with his dad that he’d spend the night at your house. and the rare occasions where his dad would raise his hands on sukuna and when you had to watch your mom ice his skin from the door of the kitchen. 

“you’ll cut my dick off?” you murmur. 

sammy snorts. 

“shut up. you know what i meant.” 

sammy pushes up off the bench, as she gestures for you to join her with her head. 

“so what did you need my help with?” sammy asks. 

“huh? how did you know?” 

“you’re annoying. you’re going to be nice to me but you’re also going to ask for a favor.” sammy states. 

“okay, i’m sorry! but i really can’t ask anyone else, all my friends are all…weird about me and sukuna dating so i can’t just be like oh…oh come buy lingerie with me because i have no idea how any of it works.” 

sammy raises her eyebrows, fighting the urge to laugh, as you shove her. 

“shut up. you’re such a bitch.” 

“you guys already hit a short fuse that you need to spice things up? he’s such a dog.” 

“what? no, no we haven’t even done it yet.” 

“what?” 

“well, we had a whole talk. and now that we’ve waited for so long, i want it to be special. for me and him, and…and i want to feel good, okay? not that i think it’ll make me feel good but i just mean it would be nice to do something like that.” 

sammy links her arm in with yours, turning on your heel towards the direction of the store, as she keeps laughing. you can feel the embarrassment in your cheeks, irritated, as you elbow her in the side one again. 

“stop it!” 

“i’m sorry! that’s actually like really cute and fucking romantic. but i can’t just stop laughing at you saying you don’t know how lingerie works.” 

“it looks so complicated online. just so many…straps and stuff.” 

“okay, okay, relax. my girlfriend loves this type of shit, so i’m basically an expert.” 

you try to hide your shock – at sammy saying she has a girlfriend – as she drags you into the store and basically shoves you into a dressing room. 

and surely enough, you leave the mall with a light pink set that she insisted on buying for you and a box of condoms that you swiped on your way out from the convenience store across the street. 

--

sukuna comes home to dim lights and the faint smell of lavender. and shockingly enough, you serving dinner, perfectly plating and garnishing it with the little minced greens. he quickly decides that it’s his favorite sight – your eyebrows scrunched in concentration, drowning in one of his old t-shirts. 

you feel sukuna’s arms wrap around your waist, as he sags nearly his entire weight around your back, and sighs heavily into your shoulder. 

“hi doll face. what’s the occasion?” he murmurs. 

you smile. 

“does there need to be an occasion for me to do something nice for you?” 

“yes. you’re cooking dinner, which is haunting, baby.” 

“fine. you can starve then.” 

sukuna laughs, before pressing lazy kisses into your neck, and loosening the buttons around his collar. 

and throughout the course of the dinner, he can tell that you’re nervous. it would be a little off putting a few months ago, but he knows better by now – that you’re clearly going to ask him something important or say something big to him. and naturally, with how impatient he was, he was going to weasel it out of you. 

“how was sammy?” sukuna asks. 

you smile. 

“good. she said she will cut your dick off if you hurt my feelings.” 

sukuna snorts. 

“i expected as much. did you give any thought to the apartment?” 

“yeah. it makes sense and…and i really don’t care.” 

you reach forward, pressing your hand into the warmth of his cheek, and feel your heart flutter at the smile he gives you back. you can feel the nervous anticipation pooling under your skin, entire body warm at the thought of him sitting across from you. 

“i really love you, you know that?” you whisper. 

sukuna narrows his eyes at you, the whisper of a smile still on his face. 

“are you sure you’re okay? we can talk about anything that’s bothering you if –” 

“no. no, nothing’s bothering me. really. i just really love you.”

sukuna shakes his head, the lightest pink dusting his cheeks. 

“you silly girl.” he scoffs. 

you smile. 

“i love you more. don’t argue back because you won’t win.” 

you shake your head, before reaching into the lining of your underwear, for the condom that you tucked into your skin. and you place it flat on the table, before looking up at him. 

“wow. you’re serving condom for dessert? at least tell me it’s flavored.” he asks. 

you groan, which earns you him a laugh from him. 

“they come flavored?” 

“yeah, but…but it’s weird so don’t buy those. also, don’t buy condoms. that’s my job.” 

“i don’t know how you initiate these type of things!” 

sukuna laughs, before cupping your cheeks with his hands. 

“you’re like a cavewoman. initiating sex by giving me a condom. no foreplay? no kissing?”

“i mean, obviously. but like…we always kind of get close to it. i just wanted you to know that i was ready. and that i…” 

sukuna grins and it’s enough to make your heart drop to your stomach. 

“that you what?” he whispers. 

“you know.” 

sukuna shakes his head, as he reaches for your waist and pulls you off the chair, and starts dragging you towards his room. 

“i don’t know, y/n. you have to tell me, princess.” 

you feel your cheeks burn, as you press your hands to your sides. 

“well…i want you.” 

“is that right?” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

sukuna locks his hands around your waist, as you lift yours around his neck, nervously crumpling the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you look up at him. 

“i’m done teasing. you just make it so easy, baby.” 

you bite your lip. 

“well, i kind of like it. so you…you don’t have to stop.” 

sukuna smiles, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

“more of that, okay? you tell me what you like, more importantly what you don’t.” sukuna whispers. 

you nod. 

“safe word.” sukuna states. 

“um…worm?” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“and what if i wanted to call you my pretty little worm? then what?” 

“if i take all my clothes off and you even think about calling me a worm, i’m never speaking to you again.” you respond. 

sukuna laughs, before giving you a nod, and leaning forward to close the distance before you. you can tell that he’s moving slow, tiny steps backing you up before you fall back onto the bed, and he’s hovering with his necklace dangling over you. 

and his voice is quiet as he peppers kisses into your cheek and neck, so soft it makes your stomach rumble. 

“just so you know, it does hurt the first time. need you to tell me, don’t feel embarrassed. and i –” 

“i know. i know, i will.” 

sukuna smiles, before hooking his fingers under the fabric of his t-shirt, before he carefully pulls it out from under you. and maybe it’s the sheer embarrassment that you went out of your way to buy lingerie – but you pinch your eyes shut when you catch the realization in his eyes. 

“up.” 

his voices comes out more gravelly than you’ve ever heard it, as you open your eyes, skin burning, as you give him a confused look. 

“sit up, doll. let me look at you.” he whispers, this time more fervent. 

you oblige, sitting up on the edge of the bed, as he kneels onto the ground, hands fixed on your waist, as he looks up at you. you cringe, shrinking your shoulders together, as you look down at him. 

“too much?” you ask. 

sukuna scoffs. 

“are you fucking crazy?” he responds, tone dripping with disbelief. 

sukuna stands up this time, pulling you up with him, as cradles your face with his hands, eyes so sickeningly sweet that it makes you smile. 

“my perfect girl. what did i do to deserve you, huh?” he murmurs. 

“what?” 

“the dinner, the candles. this fucking set you bought. you ruin me, you know that?” 

you shake your head, as he drops his hands, admiring the lace. and he lifts one of his fingers, making the gesture for you to spin, as you oblige, and get a barrage of kisses in response. 

“i’m obsessed, you know that? with this, with you, with your smell.” 

you smile, pulling his face out of the crook of your neck, as you shake your head, and he takes the hint to slow down. you relax into his arms, nervously toying with the buttons on his shirt, as you calm down, trying to ease the nerves, as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“i’m guessing you…you like it?” 

“like it? i love it. it’s special to me.” he murmurs. 

you look up at him, as he drops his gaze to yours, lovingly running his hands through your hair. 

“really? you don’t think it’s cheesy right?” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“s’really special. never had someone put in this much effort to make me feel special. i was supposed to be doing all of this for you, y’know? was planning it all out too.” 

“really?” 

“yeah. was gonna get you a whole weekend getaway for your birthday. whole rose petals on the bed and everything.” 

you laugh. 

“what the fuck is so funny? it’s romantic.” he complains. 

“no, no it’s so cute! but you have to let me be the romantic too sometimes. i wanted to do all of this for you…and me too. i mean, i just –” 

“i understand, princess. you’re perfect.” sukuna responds. 

you pause. 

“you can tell me if you don’t want this right now. i know i made us dinner and made it a whole thing with the outfit, but really, you don’t have to oblige just because i –” 

sukuna responds by closing the distance, lips warm against yours as he pushes you back onto the bed, for a second time. 

--

sukuna brings you two advils when you’re soaking in the bath. you can still feel your blood pulsating under your skin, the tiredness seeping into your bones as you lean back against the tile, with the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles. 

and you can’t help but feel your skin burn when he walks back in – unable to stop thinking about how his head was just nestled in between your legs, of all the sweet nothings leaving his mouth, and the gentle way he carried you here after running the bath for you. 

he crouches down by the side of the tub, holding his hand out for you as you oblige. he lifts the cup to your mouth, refusing to let you hold it, as you down the pills.

“i can’t hold my own glass now?” 

“it's aftercare. shut up.” 

he makes the motion to stand up and you reach out, slapping your wet hand around his wrist and pulling. 

“you okay?” 

“yeah. yeah, but can you stay?” 

sukuna nods, as he sits flat on the tile of the bathroom, leaning his head against the side of the bath. he was intent on giving you the time to process and relax, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more to stay there, to possibly never leave your side again, and is pleasantly surprised by your request. 

“bath okay?” he asks. 

“yeah. thanks. for the pills too.” 

“promise it’ll hurt less next time, yeah?” sukuna murmurs. 

you nod, poking at the little indents of his dimples. you can’t help but admire him, the lightest sheen of sweat still stuck to his forehead, at the arch of his back and the tattoos littered over his skin as he lazily places his hand in the water and lets the soap run through his fingers. 

“did you like it?” sukuna asks. 

“are you a nut job?” 

“i mean, what did you like? just so i keep it in mind for next time. s’my job to make you feel good, y’know?” 

you smile, before feeling your chest ache. 

“all of it.” you respond. 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“nope. specifics.” 

you lean back, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair, as you think it over. 

“well, i liked it when you would hold my hand. it made me feel really comfortable…and when you would ask before doing something different.” 

“uh huh. what else?” 

“um…the stuff you called me.” 

sukuna grins. 

“like what?” 

you groan. 

“you know…the usual stuff!” 

“you like it when i called you my good girl, right? when you were taking me so well?” sukuna asks. 

you can tell that he’s trying to irritate you and lightly splash the water at him. 

“sue me! i like to be praised by my boyfriend!” you respond, glaring at him. 

sukuna shakes his head at you, before reaching for your hands and pressing kisses to your knuckles. the spots he marked on your neck are starting to purple up now, as he reaches down for his own that you left. 

“i liked it when you did this.” sukuna responds. 

you smile. 

“i’ll cover it up before you go to work tomorrow.” 

“i liked all the pretty sounds you made. i go insane when you say my name.” 

you shake your head, before splashing the water at him. 

“quit it.” 

“really. i love it all. i love you.” 

you deflate. sammy’s comment from earlier, the harsh memory of him with his eye purpled over on your dining room table, runs through your mind, as you lean forward, and press a kiss to his shut eyelids. 

“yeah, yeah. i love you too.” 

sukuna smiles, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your knee.

--

next part linked here

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3mee @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @gyros-cum-sock @wishmem l @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part nine.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 714,148 others

tagged: yourusername

mclaren As we get closer and closer to the start of the 2024 season, we thought we’d take the time to introduce new fans to the team that works behind the scenes! Starting us off, we have Y/N L/N, our personal paddock photographer! Y/N has been here with us at McLaren since 2019, and is the genius mind behind many of the photos we’ve posted throughout the years. She’s an important part of our community and helps tremendously in not only capturing our drivers in action, but also in getting the other behind the scenes members of our team the recognition they deserve. We’re glad to have her back here with us in Bahrain, and we can’t wait to see what beautiful concoctions she comes up with this year! 🧡

view all 9,147 comments

user if there is 100 y/n fans, i am one of them. if there is one y/n fan, it is me. if there are no y/n fans, i have died.

user love love LOVE that mclaren takes the time to recognize the hard work of everyone who supports the drivers

↳ user i feel like f1 promotes the racers, team principals, and pit crew so much and forgets about everyone else that makes sure these teams are able to function so seamlessly

user CAN WE GET A MEET THE ADMIN POST TOO??? 👀👀👀

user i bumped into y/n back in silverstone 2021, like literally bumped into her, and she was so sweet!!

user she’s my photography inspo 🤩

user her dedication to the mclaren team is so apparent when you think about the fact that she DOESN’T get the same recognition as the drivers, but she has chosen to work for them for what will be 6 years as of this season. she could have easily move to a different formula 1 team or even another sport entirely, but she still comes back and that’s a dedicated artist

↳ user the fact that she did a little stint over at manchester city fc and STILL chose to come back to mclaren even tho i imagine f1 has a much harsher and stricter schedule with the intercontinental travel than football does

user this is who we have to thank for all those beautiful shots of lando??? cuz if so, bless her omg 🙏🙏🙏

user in this household we appreciate the crew that works tirelessly to keep us entertained

user so tired of seeing ppl disregard her skill as a photographer just bc of who she’s dating

↳ user OMG SAME

yourusername glad to be here, can’t wait to travel the world with these amazing people 🧡

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 214,051 others

tagged: mclaren

yourusername locked in and ready 😎

view all 1,514 comments

oscarpiastri so glad you’ve gotten over your temporary obsession with blue 😁

↳ yourusername so glad you haven’t lost your ability to get on my last nerve 😁

↳ oscarpiastri so glad you’re still insufferable even on your best days 😁

↳ yourusername now that’s a comeback i can be proud of 🥹

user MISSED THESE LADS OH MY DAYS

user ONE DAY UNTIL TESTING GUYS

user oscar looking fine asf these days 😩 that winter break treated him well

mclaren The boys are back in town!

↳ yourusername dare i say my milkshake brought them to the yard?

↳ mclaren It certainly called us 😍

↳ yourusername you flatter me mclaren admin 😌

↳ mclaren Only the best for our best 😘

user that’s some pretty intense eye contact from lando in the last image…

↳ user he ain’t even looking at the camera

↳ user nah bruv is def looking at y/n 👀👀

↳ user I NEED THEM TO GET OVER WHATEVER HAPPENED AND GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS CUZ I MISS THE BANTER IN THE COMMENTS

↳ user i think we should probably respect their privacy and understand that something happened (presumably in the off season) that we weren’t privy to. so long as they can both maintain professionalism around one another, they don’t have to do or “get over” anything. does it suck to see two very close friends no longer get along in the way they used to? absolutely. but we don’t know what happened or if anything even did happen. in the event that something did, we don’t know who’s involved or who, if anyone, is at fault. they’re both justified in choosing to end a friendship due to a falling out, or even if they just grew distant. but even as i say all of this, it’s still speculation.

↳ user we don’t actually know if they aren’t friends any longer or if they’ve just moved their friendship off of online platforms. it should be noted that y/n is very publicly dating someone, and idk about you, but i know firsthand how delusional fans can be. her bf’s fans could easily attack her over banter with another man, and lando’s fans could just as easily start reading into that same banter which runs the very real possibility of putting all three of them in an awkward situation where y/n is being shipped with a man that ISN’T her bf.

↳ user what about the banter she has with the mclaren admin? 🤔

↳ user context is super important here. the flirting between y/n and the mclaren admin is very obviously fake. it has been from the beginning, and when ppl “ship” the two of them together it’s for the bit and to play along with their fake bromance. lando and y/n have both been legitimately shipped together since they both started working with mclaren, which changes the undertone of the shipping comments bc ppl often genuinely misconstrue their banter as REAL flirting.

user why do comment sections related to y/n always turn into debate sessions

↳ user REAL like ain’t no way i’m reading all that

user oscar’s hair sticking up in every picture is my roman empire

user I’VE BEEN MISSING THE ORANGE I’M SO GLAD IT’S BACK 🧡🧡🧡

user wait i didn’t even realize until now that this is the first post in like a month that’s actually had public comments turned on

↳ user probably bc her bf’s loser fans have finally stopped harassing her

jackgrealish must be nice having all that sun 😒

↳ yourusername it really is, bet you’re jealous

Testing goes fine, until it doesn’t.

“A drain cover?” Lando’s voice echoes across the garage. “Another fucking drain cover?”

You purse your lips.

Yesterday, he’d been upset on Oscar’s behalf when they’d cancelled the remainder of the morning session after only a couple hours to solve the problem of the track’s dislodged pieces. He’d complained and cussed out the incompetence, and then reassured Oscar that things would be better for the third day.

But the third day is here now, and he’s even more upset now being told to pit after a measly thirty minutes for the same issue.

“This is the second fucking time━” he cuts himself off with an angry huff and runs his hands roughly through the curls of his hair, letting his fingers catch on the tangles and yanking through them in his frustration. Sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. His cheeks are still flushed from the heat of the car.

It’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him since you’ve come back.

The time you’ve already spent in Bahrain has been stilted at best. Lando continues to stick with his attempts at avoiding you, but it’s harder to do so here when your hotel rooms are on the same floor and you’re limited to the confines of the garage for most of the day. Even when he isn’t in the car, there’s not a lot to do wandering around the paddock and even if there was they’ve encouraged him to stay where he can easily be reached.

You’re trying not to be smug about it, but every time you glance over your shoulder and catch him watching you━ catch him quickly looking away when your eyes meet and he realizes he’s been caught━ you feel pleased.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Lando, it’s that he’s always got a limit.

If you wait long enough, stand your ground and prove that you really have no intentions whatsoever of giving in and breaking the ice between the two of you, eventually he’ll cave. When he realizes he won’t get what he wants, that he’ll have to actually put in the effort to repair what he’s broken rather than having it magically fix itself, he’ll have no other choice but to do so.

“They might not cancel the session,” Oscar chimes in, attempting to placate his aggravated teammate. “Since they already had to yesterday, I doubt they’ll do it again today.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t actually calm Lando down at all. If anything, it just reminds him again of the fact that this is the second time this same complication has happened which has him huffing angrily again and running his hands through his tangled curls even rougher.

You wince at that.

Andrea, McLaren’s team principal, steps forward. “Take a breath,” he orders, resting a heavy hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Go walk a lap around the garage or something, whatever, but I need you to calm down.”

You’re prepared for that to be the end of it, but then Andrea looks over and catches your eye. “Y/N,” he says, nodding his head towards Lando. “You go with him. Keep him out of trouble.”

Well.

You like to think you do a much better job at keeping your emotions off of your face than Lando, which isn’t hard when his features scrunch up into a pained scowl at Andrea’s words, but you can feel the pinch of your own eyebrows furrowing and the smile you send towards the team principal probably looks more like a grimace if Oscar pursed lips in your peripherals is anything to go by.

Lando storms out and you follow reluctantly after him.

He can’t really go very far, not if he wants to be within a reasonable distance when━ if━ they call him back to continue the morning testing session. So he paces back and forth and back and forth just outside the garage’s exit out into the paddock.

Your phone tells you that ten minutes pass like this. It’s the longest you’ve been alone with him in a while and his distraction lets you focus on the finer details that you’ve missed when he’s going out of his way to avoid you.

There are deep, dark, bruise-like circles that hang heavily beneath his eyes. His skin is sun-kissed and tanned from his time out catching rays during his travels, but there’s a pale pallor beneath the added color that makes him look sick. Despite his current anger and the tension coiled in his muscles just waiting to lash out and strike, his shoulders seem to droop beneath the invisible weight of whatever he’s carrying with him.

He looks small.

Lando’s always been on the shorter side, but he’s never before looked small. Not like this. Never like this.

The longer you watch, the more the back and forth pacing starts to transform into the anxious stride of a cornered animal.

You aren’t arrogant enough to assume he’s like this because of you entirely, but it does occur to you that maybe he’s having just as rough of a time as you are with the newfound distance between yourselves.

You watch him silently, for a little while longer, observing the way his stride hitches every few steps and he just barely manages to stop himself from stumbling over his own feet. He’s still running his hands through his hair. By the seventh time he practically claws his fingers through his curls you heave a sigh.

“Quit that,” you snap.

“Quit what?” He fires back with just as much bite.

You roll your eyes. “You’re gonna rip your hair out if you keep pulling on it like that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you with a sneer. His words drip with sarcasm. “I forgot you must be used to Grealish now, right? And I bet he’s got at least a ten-step hair care routine. I wonder, does he use unicorn sweat and essence of rainbow to keep it that smooth and bright? There’s no other possible way!”

“You’re being an asshole, Lando.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he says. “How could I ever think Grealish would use unicorn sweat of all things? He uses pixies tears, my mistake.”

You’re not sure how a few words managed to turn into this━ you’d just wanted him to stop pulling at his hair. It looked painful and he’s always been a bit tender headed. Now, instead, you can feel the anger bubbling up inside you and it seems like Lando’s frustrations about the testing delay, and your friendship with Jack apparently, have made things worse.

Like throwing gasoline onto a flame.

You scowl, “Seriously. You’re being a fucking prick.”

He throws his arms up into the air, “Why not just run off to Grealish then? Since he seems to be your new best friend and you tell him everything.”

If your life were a movie, this is the moment in time when the stars would align and fate would force everything to position itself perfect in place. Like the pieces of a puzzle, it would all work out and you’d calmly explain to Lando what happened back in January with Garrett and Manchester City, and he’d understand immediately and apologize, and you’d hug it out and then both return to the garage just in time for them to announce the testing session would re-commence.

But your life isn’t a movie, and reality feels significantly different to the scripted perfection of fiction.

The precarious security of the perch you’ve settled yourself upon comes crashing down, and the tentative balance you’ve managed to maintain since the start of February when you were back in papaya again shatters with it. Something inside you snaps. The dam has burst and everything held back comes rushing to the front like a torrential wave.

“At least he was there for me when some prick blackmailed me into a relationship at the threat of my livelihood,” you snarl.

Lando pauses for a moment. He makes a couple different faces before settling on a mix between pissed off and confused, and his arms cross over his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want to be in a relationship with Garrett Ward, Lando!” You exclaim. “He threatened that if I didn’t pretend to be his girlfriend, he’d fake some misconduct rumor and ruin my career and I was too afraid to say no because this is all I have!”

This isn’t how you’d wanted it all to go down. You’d always imagined you’d get the satisfaction of an apology, and that Lando would get drunk on cheap wine with you like old times, and you’d explain what all happened with the confidence of being a little tipsy and you wouldn’t feel ashamed because Lando’s your best friend and he’d reassure you that you did what you had to, and then you’d listen to him shit talk Garrett for the rest of the night. In the morning, he’d have some idea of how to fix it all without ruining your career, and then you’d be able to put it all behind you and go back to how things were before the winter off-season ever started.

This is far from that, but there’s a sense of relief that comes nonetheless from getting it all off your chest to Lando━ to the person you’ve wanted to talk to from the very beginning

You feel tears burning your eyes, blurring your vision. “I can barely pay my rent as is, and I’m only actually living there for a few dumb months out of the year anyway. Do you know how much worse it would be if I got kicked from McLaren too? Nobody else in the country would hire me if he followed through with what he was threatening.”

“Well,” Lando shrugs his shoulders, looking properly chastised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I fucking tried, you muppet!” You throw your arms up in exasperation and then wipe at your eyes in frustration when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I called you every day for a week and you ignored me! I sent you text after text after fucking text━” your voice breaks, “━and you didn’t even read them! Did you know I locked myself in the bathroom and cried every single day I had to work there?”

You glare at him.

“The only thing that made it better was Jack fucking Grealish coming into my office and telling me I could at least go to him if I ever needed anything,” you snap. “So fuck off with this whole holier than thou bullshit. You left me, and Jack took your place because I was drowning!”

“Y/N…”

Crying hadn’t been a part of your plan, but the tears won’t stop now that they’re going. It’s embarrassing. You’re already worried about just how many people heard you shouting, and now you’re even more worried about someone coming back to look for you both and finding you sobbing your eyes out.

“I’m sorry━”

Lando’s arms wrap around you, warm and strong and sure.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: and there we have it folks. lando is finally back in the picture! this part was a lot of fun to write, because i've been waiting for this moment since the initial fallout in the beginning. on that note, i finished getting it all whipped up this morning while watching the qualis, so if there are any mistakes that i haven't caught that's why. i was a bit distracted, so please pretend they aren't there haha!

[miniwheat77]

Brat. (dbf!Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), using worms as bait, age gap, (sorry if I missed any)

Your body feels warm, the hot sun beating down on you as you swam with one of your friends in her swimming pool. You had one as well but her parents weren't as strict as yours so you spent most of your time there.

You had just turned 18 but since you still lived with them for the time being you had no other choice but to follow their rules. You still had a curfew, had to tell them when and where you were going and what time you would be home. They still had to approve of it of course. Although they rarely ever told you no anymore since you were 18.

Your dad sat at an old wooden bar in and old dive bar him and his best friend, John Price liked to hang out in. They've been neighbors for years and years and it's essentially how their friendship started. They spent every holiday, game day, barbecue, and family get together with each other since then. They got along well, never fought. John was invited to everything and since he didn't have a family of his own it wasn't too hard for him to show. He wasn't married, had no kids, and lived too far away from his parents and siblings to plan the flights. He also didn't know when he'd be deployed but since he took on a job on the base and was only backup for missions, he was always home. Usually worked a 9-5 on the base. It was out of the ordinary for him and apart of him felt useless but it paid the bills. He was still there if they needed him anyways.

You dad was tipping the whiskey back like it was water which only meant one thing. Something was stressing him out.

John smiles after drinking some of his own bourbon. "Something going on mate?" He asks your dad. "Ah yeah. Y/N has been driving me crazy lately." He groans. "Me and her mom." He laughs. John tilts his head in confusion. "What's been going on?" He asks. "If you don't mind me asking of course."

"To be honest? I don't know. She's just been a real grouch lately. Has an attitude, doesn't listen, complains all the time. We've given her much more freedom since she turned 18 so I'm not sure where it's coming from." He shrugs. John nods his head. He's still listening. "I mean.. we convinced her to go to the doctor to get a few scans and blood work done, thinking maybe it was hormone imbalance or a mood disorder but those all came back fine and seemed to piss her off even more to be honest." He shrugs. "She got something going on in her personal life? Maybe she's fighting with a friend or boyfriend?" John asks. Your dad shakes his head. "She hates guys her age. Hates pretty much everyone she isn't close with anyways. She always said she won't date until she's older after her first boyfriend but I mean. She was like 12 so it was stupid anyways. She's only got a couple close friends and that's where she is right now. I don't know what it is." He tips back another shot of whiskey.

"Must just be moody. Maybe you guys should come out to the lake with me this weekend. I’m taking the boat out.” He shrugs. “Yeah that sounds good.” Your dad smiles. “Maybe getting out of the house will help her out.” He shrugs.

“I don’t know, I just know she’s in my damn nerves.” He laughs. Once they finish up their drinks, they part ways. Driving down the same roads to get home since they were neighbors. They’d usually carpool together but they’d met after work. When your dad arrives home, you’re home already. Watching a show on the couch. He closes the door behind him as he steps inside, smiling when he sees you. “Hey. John invited us out to go fishin this weekend. I said we’d go.” He smiles. “Do I have to?” You mumble. “Yes.” A grumble leaves your lips. “I’m not sure what the attitude is but it better quit young lady.” You roll your eyes, going upstairs to your room. Throwing yourself back on your bed with a groan.

—

John smiles at your dad, he’s sitting up at the front of the boat. You’re laying on your stomach, bikini leaving little to the eyes, you’ve got a pair of sunglasses on and you haven’t spoken much the entire trip. “John, you mind letting me off at the doc? I’m gonna go get another case of beer.” He nods his head, starting up the boat and making his way to shore. He lets your dad off, letting him know he’s going to go back out with you and to let him know when to come get him. When he’s back out on the lake and the anchor is down, he flips his hat around. Scooping up some water with his hand and flicking it all over you. He draws a gasp from your lips and you turn around, “John what the hell!” You gasp. Wiping the water down. “Cmon kid. You’re driving your poor ol’ man nuts. What’s with the attitude?” He crosses his arms, lazy smile playing at his lips. “I don’t have an attitude. Why does everyone keep saying that?” You roll your eyes. “Oh come on. The eye rolling, talking back, ignoring people when they talk to you. Being a real brat little lady.” He teases. You grumble, laying back down. “Nope. Cmon. You’re gonna try fishing. You’ll have fun.” He picks up a fishing pole. “We’re using worms. I mean.. you can use power bait but the stocked fished are smaller than natural spawn fish. It’s up to you.” He shrugs, holding out the styrofoam container that has the worms in it. You sigh, taking it from him. “You want me to show you how to put a worm on?” He asks. “Yeah sure.” You mumble. “Alright, here. You basically just thread it through the top.” You watch him hook the worm and thread it on, watching as it squirms. You take the pole from him, casting it out into the water and waiting.

Pretty soon, there’s a boat full of younger guys creeping up near you. They cat call you, yelling out obscenities at you. You ignore them, rolling your eyes. John is a little amused because he knows what your dad has said about guys your age and how you hate dating. They leave just as quickly as they come. “Can we just home? This is boring.” You roll your eyes. “No, not until we catch some fish.” He laughs.

This is where he starts to see it.

When you think he’s not paying attention, you’re adjusting yourself. Sliding awkwardly on the seat, rubbing up against your fishing pole for any sort of friction. Acting more and more bratty as the time ticks on. It’s amusing to John really, to see just how frustrated you are. “Where is my dad? He’s been gone a long time.” John shrugs. He pulls out his phone. He notices a text from your dad, seeing that he’s received a text from him a few minutes before.

You mind giving Y/N a lift home? Her mom texted me and said she took a bad fall at work and is in the ER.

Yeah no problem at all, see you later mate.

“He said your mum fell at work so he’s going to go see if she’s okay. It’s just me and you kid.” John sits down. “So we can go home now?” You ask. “No.” He laughs. You mutter something under your breath. He laughs. Your fishing pole bobbing startles you and John perks up. "You got a fish!" You set the hook, yanking the fishing pole and starting to reel it in. The fish puts up a pretty good fight and when you reel it closer to the boat, John scoops it up with the fishing net for you. Helping you get it off the hook. "Look at that darling." He smiles as you pick it up. "Good girl, see? This is fun." He smiles. His statement takes you off guard, cheeks heating up. "Uh.. Yeah. Whatever." You shut down quickly. He thinks it's odd at first. Once you've thrown the fish back into the water, he sits down across from you at the front of the boat.

He looks around, making sure no one else is around. “Look. I know what’s going on.” He smiles. “Yeah? And what’s that?” You look at him. “Well.. I’m putting two and two together here. The attitude, the never wanting to go out.” He smirks. You look up at him. “I mean.. you’ve been grinding up against your fishing pole since I gave it to you. Rubbing your thighs together when that boat full of guys came by.” Your lips part slightly, cheeks going red. "And when I called you a good girl." He chuckles, seeing how you start to squirm from his watchful eyes on you. “Do you not know how to make yourself cum sweetheart?” He laughs. "T-that's inappropriate John." You look away from his gaze, thankful your sunglasses help conceal your embarrassment. He laughs. "Oh come on, what your dad doesn't know won't hurt him, besides. You've been on his nerves lately and if I help you out, maybe he won't be so stressed out. So talk to me." He smiles. You stay quiet and he moves across the boat, sitting right next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "You can talk to me darling. I can help you." Your heart rate picks up, it's racing in your chest. "I.. I don't know what you want me to say." You breathe. You're one step away from panting at his close proximity. The only thing you can think about are his hands on you. "Have you ever had sex before?" He asks. You shake your head. "Have you.. done anything at all?" You shake your head again. "I've tried to it myself but it makes it worse." You look down at your hands nervously playing with them.

He smiles. Right now, John is thankful there is a room below on his boat. "I can show you." He rests his hand on your thigh, feeling you stiffen up under his touch. "O-okay." You breathe. "Come on." He grasps your hand. There aren't many boats left on the water, it's getting late in the day and everyone is going home thankfully, you might get a little loud. He pulls you down the small set of stairs into the cabin of the boat. It's really small. He makes sure to wash his hands before he touches you, having you do the same.

There's a small bed and a table and chairs and that's it. "Lay on your back." You swallow hard, getting up onto the bed. His deep voice has your clit throbbing at the attention it knows it's about to get. You're sure you've soaked through your panties. He leans onto the bed, helping you remove your bathing suit. When your bottom half is exposed to him, he wants to drool. "God you're beautiful." He groans. He glides his hands down your exposed thighs, causing chills to rise on your skin. You're panting now, small gasps leaving your lips. "Relax." He chuckles. "I'm going to help you, try to calm down sweetheart. You're too eager." He runs his fingertips over your skin, his touch is searing, it burns your skin as his fingers move across you. You want his hands on you. You want them inside of you. He takes a deep breath of his own, trying to ignore the way his cock throbs against his cargo shorts. "Start slow. Little circles on your clit." He reaches forward. "Like this." He breathes. He uses his thumb, rubbing circles over you. Your lips part slightly, a whimper leaving your lips. It’s different when he’s touching you. You can feel your lower stomach swirling, something is building already. “You try.” He draws his hand away. Resting your hand over your mound, rubbing circles over your clit just as he said. The sensation is gone just as fast as it came, causing you to whimper out at the loss, your touch feels like nothing. You draw your hand away. “This isn’t going to work John, it doesn’t work.” You blush.

You try to sit up but he pushes you back. “Have you ever cum before?” He asks. You shake your head. “Oh darling.. no wonder you’re so bratty.” He smiles. “All of that sexual tension and no way to release it. Poor thing.” He’s teasing you, but at the same time actually feels really bad. He knows it’s harder for you to cum. “Stop it John.” You try to push him off, tears gathering in your eyes from frustration. “I’m just teasing darling, let me help you.” He moves himself up further, grasping your thighs and pulling you down on the bed further, you let your head rest back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. The boat rocks back and fourth over the water. You’re nervous. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you. He moves himself between your legs, and you don’t understand what's going on until you feel something warm and wet against your entrance. You lift your head up, jumping at the sensation. “Oh f-fuck!” You gasp. He glances up at you. He’s still got his hat on, but he’s flipped it backward by now. Giving himself room to devour you. He moans into your opening, you taste sweet. You’re breathing hard, clutching at the sheets as he flicks his tongue over your clit. He starts slow, letting your sensitive nub get used to the sensation of his tongue, not wanting to overwhelm you. You clutch at the sheets, melting further and further into him as he laps at your entrance with his tongue. It's clear that he's had a fair share of experience. You feel something building in your stomach and you know you're about to cum.

You're getting louder and louder, crying out his name and he's never imagined himself in such a position.

This is just to help her dad, so that he isn't so stressed out.

That's all.

John rocks his hips into the bed, cock hard and throbbing against his shorts. Begging for some kind of friction. He imagines your pretty lips around his cock, maybe your pretty eyes looking up at him as you take him further down your throat. He groans into you earning another moan from your lips. When you're wet enough from his spit and your arousal, he slides a couple of his fingers into you. Feeling you tense up around him, all of the air leaving your lungs, you've never had anything inside before and he can't help but smile into you.

He sucks against your clit, swirling his tongue around it, you're squirming, struggling to stay still beneath him, even his grip on you doesn't keep you completely still. He sucks your clit into his mouth one more time, lapping his tongue over you, his fingers curling into the sweet spot inside of you and you lose it, lips parting as moans leave your lips. A mewl leave your lips and you squirm out of his grasp as he desperately laps up your arousal from your orgasm. You push him away, closing your legs. You're looking at him with a look of pure shock, panting, a little sweaty. The look you're giving him it's unsettling how fucked out you look. He wipes his lips of you, looking up at you. "Do you feel better?" He laughs. You nod your head. "Good. Try to relax." He smiles. "Still got about an hour of light left, let's make it worth while and try to catch some fish yeah?" He smiles, standing up. When he's out of your line of sight, he sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. Groaning at himself.

What has he just gotten himself into?

[wearebarca]

2. Captured // // Alexia Putellas x Original character

Part 1 Part 2

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

word count: 5,7K

18 + (eventually)

A/N: Currently procrastinating instead of finishing my thesis on "The methods of repression used during the first Christian Inquisition" Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.

As soon as the words left her lips, Rosalie knew that she would be in for a world of teasing from the two women who still stood behind her. She had hoped that even with the few years she had spent playing in France, Lucy had not picked up enough French to understand what she had said, but the burst of giggles that was heard quickly killed all her hopes. The confused look plastered on the Catalonian made the French-Canadian turn an even darker shade of red. 

“ Perdon? I am sorry I do not understand,”

“Oh no I’m sorry, I got my languages mixed up. I’m Rosalie” She extended her hand for the captain to shake. 

“Rosalia? It is nice to meat you, I am Alexia, Welcome to Barcelona ,” Her hand was much bigger than her own, calloused from all her training. The blond never broke eye contact from the smaller brunette who did not dare to look away. 

A cough finally broke the girls from their interaction. Lucy and Keira were still there, but another woman had joined them. “ We hope you enjoy it here,” Alexia let her hand go and made her way back to Mapi, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smile hovering on her lips, which earned her a loud smack behind the head. 

“ Hola chica, I’m Sara, one of the coaches, welcome to the team,” she hugged the Canadian like she had known the woman for years, “we just wanted to tell you that if you would like, we could go over your training together! We’d love to help if you need.” The woman’s enthusiasm made it hard for the photographer to refuse which led them to set up a time the following week for a run together. It was indeed a good proposition since her marathon was quickly approaching and a professional opinion on her training routine wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

Soon enough, all the introductions were made and Rosalie was left once again alone with Lucy, who was still giggling about her friend’s encounter with her captain. Seeing as the girl was showing signs of being a little overstimulated, she decided to drag her to the locker room. Once inside, she shoved Keira’s spare boots in her hands and pushed the younger girl back to the pitch. Back at England’s national camp, especially during the last one they spent together, whenever Rosalie felt like the world was spinning too fast around her, Lucy would pull her aside and pass the ball with her. This would always  relax the brunette and help her talk about whatever was on her mind.  

« Are we even allowed to do this” she asked as she kicked the ball right at Lucy’s feet.

“We have twenty minutes before the end of training and I am not going back in there.” She said wincing “ And don’t worry, the staff does this all the time” she kicked it back to Rosalie, the ball flying to her chest, absorbing the shock before falling to her feet.

“Your captain seems intense”

“ oh oui madame elle est très intense.” The younger woman's  eyes rolled so far she would have caught a glimpse of her frontal lobe

“ Got you a little nervous didn’t she”

“ Don’t even start Bronze” While she was distracted, Rosalie stole the ball from Lucy’s feet and sent it to the top right corner of the goal. A few cheers could be heard from the gym where a few players had gathered. 

“Some defender you are” the younger woman said as she started to walk toward the building. She turned around just in time to see Lucy lunge towards her and grab her by the waist to hoist her on her shoulder like a potato sack. 

Lunch arrived soon after and everyone made their exit towards the cafeteria. Rosalie sat at the table with the rest of the media team whom she hadn’t had the chance to meet yet. Everyone was very welcoming, especially Marcello who was one of the marketing guys and Isabella who is the head of social media and the face of barça’s media. Marcello is a very laid back guy with an easy laugh while Isabella was a whirlwind of colours, energy and excitement. The both of them together completed each other and quickly included the Canadian in their conversation, speaking in English and slowed down Spanish for her to understand. 

Even with the cacophony of voices and constant back and forth between tables, at the other side of the room, Alexia seemingly could not take her eyes away from the brunette who’s bright green eyes had not left her mind. A sharp pinch on her arm pulled her from her day dream. “ If you stare harder she might combust, you know.”

Mapi had watched her friend stare for a good ten minutes before feeling bad for the brunette across the room. « You can talk to her you know, you’d like her she seems like a simple girl. »

« Mhm »

« She’s gonna fit well here, have you seen her instagram? She is very talented and obviously very beautiful and… » The blond captain tuned out her friend who she knew was going on one of her rants and didn’t need the blond's participation in this one-sided conversation.  

The truth was that the catalonian did not know how to feel toward the new photographer. She had never been a big fan of the media team. She knew that they were simply doing their jobs but she had always hated this part of professional football. The eyes constantly watching her, her private life exposed for profit, she simply wasn’t comfortable whenever a camera was near. 

She didn’t hate the previous head photographer, but she never bothered to be more than courteous towards her. For some reason, this time, there was something different, she was curious about the canadian. 

The afternoon went fast for Rosalie. An official meeting with the media team, more documents to sign and more hands to shake. The brunette was itching to take her camera and go down to the pitch to start on some training pictures, which she did as soon as she was free to leave management’s office.

 It was now around two in the afternoon and the sun was shining bright on the training pitch. The whole team was out and playing a practice game and the photographer took this as an opportunity to take a few shots. She had heard Spanish football and how different but these girls were definitely on a different level and seeing them in action for the firing time was truly impressive, the woman thought as she watched the ball fly towards the goal, the shot so precise and powerful that Sandra Paños had no chance to block it. 

It did not take long before she was running around the pitch with her camera in hand. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she could feel her baby hairs stick to her forehead. The heat was getting to the photographer who had rolled the sleeves of her t-shirt and was currently cursing her choice of pants. Heat wasn’t her cup of tea. Even after a month here she still wasn’t used to the temperature. She was Canadian after all, the cold was more her element. Even under the unforgiving sun, her eyes were glued to the viewfinder, her mind set on the scenery around her and  the heat wasn’t even an afterthought.  

Rosalie  managed to get a couple decent shots of the girls in action that she ended up showing to Mapi and Patri who kept shouting something about who was the hottest one in Spanish. 

Everytime her eye left the camera, The brunette could feel a piercing gaze stuck on her, the eyes belonging to none other than Barcelona’s captain. Even though she had caught her staring, Alexia’s hazel eyes wouldn’t stray. The French-Canadian would send a shy smile her way which would break her trance, and then the blond would simply go back to the game without acknowledging her even the slightest.. By the third time, Rosalie simply stopped acknowledging her and just focused on her work. If the blond didn’t bother to be polite, then she didn't have to be either.

After an hour outside, she finally decided that she had enough material and headed back to her office. She made a stop at Martina’s office to discuss which pictures would go in today’s post and ended up agreeing to go get coffee tomorrow morning before work. The rest of the afternoon was spent on editing the pictures she had taken and working on some more from the night before. She had had an idea during her little meeting with the media team. A project that would serve as a thank you for the never ending support of the Barça fans and she was really excited. This project would take up a lot of her schedule, but after only a month in Barcelona, she had seen how spirited and dedicated the fans were and she thought it was important for them to know that their club was infinitely thankful for them. 

A knock on the door pulled her from her work and her eyes quickly shifted to the door.

 “ It’s half past five, why are you still here?”

Keira was standing in her doorway, changed and bag in hand, ready to go home after a particularly demanding training day. She half thought that the younger brunette would be gone by now but she wasn’t surprised when she saw her still at her desk, ready glasses low on the bridge of her nose, completely focused on her computer screen. 

“ I just want to finish these for tomorrow, it has to be perfect.” Her eyes strayed back to her computer but she could still hear the other woman walk around her desk and lean over her shoulder. A picture of Alexia standing on the sides lines, arms crossed and face scrunched up in a concentrated expression was currently in the process of being reframed and adjusted. 

“These are good.”

“Thank you,” she scrolled on the lot to show her more, “ Everyone looks so happy, besides..”

“It’s normal, you won’t catch her smiling, especially these days” she said it so casually, Rosalie  felt bad for the woman.

“Pressure?”

“Most likely” she said “ Come on, we’re coming over to your place tonight, you gotta prepare.”

“Says who?”

“ Your big sister, we know you’re far from unpacked. We’re coming to help.” She said, grabbing Rosalie’s bag on her way out. 

“We’re bringing take out” That was all it took to convince the Canadian to put away her laptop and follow the woman out of the training grounds. 

She had not realized just how badly she needed a night like this. The last time she had spent the night goofing around with her best friend was almost a year ago during international break and she had missed her friends dearly ever since. As the brunette had predicted, the couple arrived shortly after her, still in their training kits, claiming that this was as much their apartment as Rosalie’s which meant that they had the right to shower here if they pleased. While Lucy was gone, Keira had set up the kitchen island as a table while Rosalie was busy rummaging through her boxes to find two additional plates and cutlery. 

“ How long have you been here? A month? And you still have this many boxes lying around?”

“What can I say, all I really need is out and the rest could wait… indefinitely.” She ducked fast enough for the placemat to miss her head by an inch.

“ By the end of the night I’m telling you, you’ll be all set and you’ll owe us a round at the pub.”

By the end of the night, they had managed to take care of most of the boxes and made a list of what items were missing for this palace to become a real home. The couple ended up staying late, and would surely regret this at training the next day. It was truly like no time had passed since they had last seen each other. The evening was full of laughs and stories shared but the girls on their respective journeys since they had last been together. Rosalie would not admit it, but she truly needed a night like this. She felt so happy to finally be surrounded by her family, and the prospect of being able to see them a lot more often made this place feel like it could finally be somewhere she considers home. 

The rest of the week was more or less the same. Rosalie started her days by going to get coffee with  Mapi and Ingrid, who quickly became good friends,  or Martina. She loved the woman’s constant smiling and contagious energy and quickly found out that the head of social media was the woman to go see if you wanted to know the latest gossip amongst the Barcelona team and staff members. 

Friday was her last day of the week at the training center and was scheduled to be a very busy day. The morning would be filled with meetings and a presentation for the special fan project she had come up with. Then she had several shoots planned with the girls that would take place in her office. This alone would take the whole afternoon and Rosalie knew that when she would leave for the weekend, she would be exhausted. She knew that she would need all the energy she could get which is why she was currently on her way to the coffee shop with both Ingrid and Mapi by her side. 

Upon entering the shop, the girls beside the photographer both stopped in their tracks and turned towards the counter. A tall blond woman was currently leaning with her back against the counter and her hands in her pockets. The shop was almost empty so the three girls entering made enough noise to pull Alexia out of her thoughts. She recognized easily the voice of the tattooed woman and the Norwegian but, the third voice sent chills down her back and the woman froze, keeping her eyes on the floor, half hoping that the trio would make their way to the register without noticing her. But of course, as if the universe was against her, her name was called by the barista.

“Alexia, chica, cómo estás?” Mapi made her way towards her captain, leaving the photographer and Ingrid at the counter. 

“ Bien, ¿Por qué estás aquí tan temprano?” Usually on fridays, training started a little later, so the blond did not understand why the couple was here so early instead of relaxing at home like they usually did. 

“ Ambos tenemos fisioterapia esta mañana, pensamos que tomaríamos un café con Rosalie antes de nuestras citas.”

“ Ah si, fisoterapia,” Eversince the photographer’s arrival in the small shop, the blond was hyper aware of everything happening around her. The sound, the wiring of the espresso machines, the sound of spoons hitting the rim of the cup, the shuffling of sneakers on the hardwood floors. When a delicate smell of coconut and argan oil came to her, she did not need to turn around to know that the reason for her nervousness was standing next to her.

The photographer was just as nervous as the footballer. All week she had seen the captain’s behavior change every time she would walk in a room or on the pitch. The captain would either avoid the brunette and stare from afar or simply leave the room she was in. At first, she thought it was simply because the woman was shy and needed time to warm up to new people, but that theory quickly fell once she had seen the taller woman interact with journalists and strangers. Now standing so close to the woman,the French-Canadian did not know if she should ignore her or try to engage with the mysterious woman.

Surprisingly, it was Alexia who made the first move. “ I heard you will have a big day today with the annual team shoot.” 

“ Oh oui, it’s going to be a busy one I'm afraid, but I’m excited to work more closely with you all, I never get to see you guys outside of training settings so this should be fun!” She said, clearly excited to get to do a little studio work. The clear happiness on the smaller girl's face made the blond smile slightly. 

“ I do not know if you will still be happy once you have a bunch of children running around in your office.”  

“ Hey! We are not so bad.” Mapi said, hitting her friend on the shoulder.

“I love you darling but yes you are.” Ingrid had her arms crossed and was smiling fondly at her girlfriend who was pouting slightly. 

Silence fell on the group as they watched a mother and her little girl entering the shop. Sensing that the atmosphere was starting to be a little awkward considering no one was going to talk, Ingrid decided to steer the conversation towards something she knew would appeal to everyone. “ Are you guys excited about the match next friday”

The team was playing Sevilla next Friday and this would be Rosalie’s first away game. She had a feeling they would ask her to join the team to see how it usually goes. As the head photographer, she would usually not have to make the trip every single time but shetought it was important that for the few next away games, she would come along and experience the whole ordeal herself. 

“ Sevilla is always entertaining to play. Besides, we will get the whole day after the match to go around the city.” The blond responded. “ You will come with us, I heard.” She added turning slightly towards the brunette.

“ They haven’t told me anything yet but I can only assume that if they told you I was coming then it means I’ll be there.” At that, the blond catalonian let a small smile graze her lips. The sight made the photographer melt a little on the spot. 

« Good, it will be a good game » an awkward silence fell on the  little group.They were all waiting on Alexia to add something but the woman stayed silent, staring down at the smaller girl. From closer, the Canadian realized that in order to look Alexia in the eyes, she had to tilt her head up quite a bit. Combined to her intense gaze, the height difference made the blond Catalonian look even more intimidating which added to the Canadian’s inability to speak at the moment.  Thankfully for both, Alexia’s name was called once again by the barista which allowed the smaller brunette to relax while the captain went to finally pick up her order. She quickly walked back to the small group and handed Rosalie a cup that smells exactly like her favourite coffee. 

«  te veré en el entrenamiento chicas » she said, quickly exiting the shop without sparing another glance towards the confused photographer. 

« What did I do? »

« What do you mean? »

“She must hate me to act so weird when I’m around » She said as she took the coffee that she had ordered herself the counter, Ingrid trailing behind her, carrying her own order and Map’s since the woman had ran out after Alexia. 

« She’s very closed off. It’s always been hard when newcomers arrive in the team. '' She said, while staring down at her feet. “ She did get you a cup of coffee so I don't think that she hates you.” She added. In her mind, it was clear that the Norwegian was keeping something from her just by the way she would not meet the photographer's eyes while talking.

“ Speaking of coffee, how did she know my favorite?” 

“ Martina” 

“ Mais quelle fouineuse celle-là”

“ What?” 

“Oh nothing,” 

When they arrived at the center, the Spanish women were near the entrance, deep in conversation. The rapid spanish rambling was completely lost on the French-Canadian who was starting to think about asking about those intensive lessons management had offered her. She made a mental note to ask later today and decided that she had had enough awkwardness for today and wanted to save the small amount of energy she had left from her first week to focus on the day ahead. She would thank the captain for the coffee when it would be her shoot in the afternoon. 

Just like she had predicted, Rosalie’s day started at a hundred miles an hour with multiple meetings. One of them being an update on the fan project she was currently working on. She also met up with management about the game on wednesday and got the travel details. She would travel with the team and be seated with the girls on the plane and bus so she would be able to capture as much content as she could during the trip. She would be the only member of the photography team to go since the rest was working on a side project that involved the second team and youth club, so for the sleeping arrangements, she would most likely room with a random coach or therapist but nothing was sure yet. Being the only photographer on the trip meant that Rosalie would have twice as much work as usual which put her on edge a little but nonetheless, she was excited at the prospect of her first trip with her new team. 

 The meetings ended up taking up the whole morning and finished only when lunch started. The photographer still had to set up her office for the shootings and had to skip lunch in order to have everything ready for the first group. The day before, when she received the backgrounds management wanted her to use, she had almost laughed in front of them at how cheesy it looked. They were a dark navy blue with red and white stars all around. Someone who did not know Barça’s colour team would have probably thought this was an american themed photoshoot. The brunette had decided to lean into the cheesiness of the backgrounds and picked up some props that would go well with the vision she had in mind. 

The first ones to arrive were Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid, which eased the Canadian's nerves a little. With the help of the people she knew best in this team, she was able to pinpoint what worked best and test out some poses she had thought of. Alexia had been right. As serious and focused these girls could be on a football pitch, whenever they were out of training settings, they turned into a bunch of children, which made the photographer laugh a lot, and their happiness and childish energy showed in the pictures. 

Most of the girls were easy to work with, not being shy in front of the camera and understanding quickly the directions the brunette was giving them. But some, mostly the younger ones, weren't very familiar with all media related things and had a hard time relaxing. Rosalie prided herself in being able to charm these girls into forgetting they were in front of the camera by distracting them with music and making the shooting as casual as she could. Seeing the girls in smaller groups allowed her to get to know them a little better and when the last group came around, she was confident that these girls had accepted her in the Barcelona family. 

The last group consisted of Irene, Fridolina, Marta, Panos and Alexia. Knowing the girls, this would be the calmer group and she wasn’t mad about it. She was definitely feeling the exhaustion of the day toppling over her and adding to the week’s worth of stress and overall tiredness. The brunette was ever grateful for her extra cup of coffee, which sat, cold and half empty on the corner of her desk. Unfortunately, the photographer would not get the chance to thank the captain just yet because the blond was not in the group that had just entered her studio. 

“ Hola chica,” Sandra exclaimed, hugging the smaller brunette. “ Alexia will be running late, she is with the physiotherapist for her knee. I’ll be just the four of us for now.” The French-Canadian would be lying if she said she wasn’t all the more stressed at the prospect of having to have a solo photoshoot with the woman that rendered her a nervous mess, but she put the thought aside and got to work.

The girls ended up being the one that worked the quickest, being used to this sort of duties, but they were certainly not the ones who looked the most at ease in front of the camera. Irene in particular looked comically angry in certain shots where she was meant to look like she was celebrating a goal. Overall their shoot ended quickly, without Alexia ever showing up. 

“ If you want, I can go see what is taking so long and fetch her for you,” Irene said, lingering in the door of the studio. 

“ Oh no, don’t worry. I don’t want to press her, she can come to me when she’s done, I’ll still be here editing the photos till pretty late.”Answered the brunette who was already settling down at her desk. 

“Alright as you wish. Thank you by the way, you’re really good at what you do, it was fun, for once.” The tall woman said before leaving. The statement put a smile on the brunette’s face before she put on some headphones and dived in the multitudes of shots taken during the afternoon. Whenever she works on editing, Rosalie usually completely loses track of time, being pulled into her own little bubble and forgetting the world around her. She was so focused that she did not even realize it was well past her usual work hours and supper was rolling around the corner. Hunger started to make itself known but the photographer was dead set on at least finishing first three groups before leaving for the weekend. Her shooting with Alexia had completely slipped her mind, which made the brunette even more confused when a polite cough pulled her from her work. 

The Catalonian had been standing in the threshold of the photographer’s office for longer than would admit, but the way her reading glasses were placed low on her nose giving her a little secretary vibe, or the way the small brunette would scrunch up her nose whenever she wasn’t certain about a specific angle or even the smile smile that would stretch across her features whenever she would take in her work were simply too enticing for the blond. The only reason Alexia finally made her presence known was the bag containing the paella from her favorite place. Lucy had texted her that the brunette most likely would have forgotten to eat and the football player decided to get something for the photographer to thank her for her patience.

“Hola Rosalia,” 

“ Alexia, hi!” The brunette said, taking her glasses off and getting up to greet the blond. “ How was the physio?”

“ Good, they said everything was stable,” Alexia had just recently been back on the squad after her knee had relapsed, so she had frequent visits to the physio’s office and was very careful during training and games. 

“I’m glad to hear that,”  As the photographer got closer to the blond, an amazing smell reached her nose and reminded her that her last meal had been breakfast. “ Did you bring food?”

The pure excitement emanating from the smaller woman was enough to break the nervousness that was clawing at the captain who smiled and finally stepped in the room to go put down the bags of food on the small coffee table in front of the couch. She pulled out a plastic container filled to the brim with fresh paella and motionned the woman to come sit next to her. “ I did not know what you liked so I brought you my favourite.” 

The smell alone was enough to make Rosalie drool. She sat down and quickly picked up the plastic fork. The blond was looking at her, seemingly waiting for her to take a bite and tell her what she thought. The face and sound that came out of the photographer at the taste made the blond blush furiously which prompted her to turn around to try to hide her reddening cheeks. On the other hand, the other girl seemed completely unaware of what she had just done and simply kept eating the delicious food. 

“ Are you not eating anything?” The brunette asked after a moment.

“No, no I will eat at home.” The truth is that Alexia had simply forgotten to order anything for herself, too worried about making the photographer wait any further. The brunette got up and reached in one of her drawers and pulled out a fork that she then offered to the blond.

“Here, we can share,”

“ No I got this for you, as a thank you for waiting so long.”

“You already got me coffee this morning, thank you by the way, I would not have survived my day without it.” She said smiling, “ Besides, I won’t be able to finish this on my own and it is too good to waste.”

The blond hesitated a moment and then reached for the second fork. They both ate in silence, too absorbed by the food to say anything. Once the plate was empty and the trash disposed of the girls drifted towards the studio part of the room and Alexia, who previously seemed relaxed enough, seemed to tense at the sight of the set up in front of her. 

Rosalie, after a week of observing the team interaction had quickly realized that Alexia, even if she was a seasoned player that was no stranger to the camera, was still incredibly uncomfortable when she was the target of the lens. Seeing the way the captain went rigid when she reached for her camera, the photographer decided that her traditional distracting methods would not be the best way to go about in this particular case.

“ Would you mind grabbing the speaker for me please?”

“ Si,” While the blond was gone, Rosalie rapidly prepped her camera and left it on the side in order to adjust the lighting so it wouldn’t be as harsh for the eyes and wouldn’t blind the football player. 

“ Here, you can go on Spotify and put on anything you like,” She said, handing the captain her phone. 

“What do you usually listen to?” 

“ Anything really, but I wanna know what you like, surprise me.” This made the blond relax a little as she searched for the songs she had in mind. As the photographer was finishing setting up the equipment, she created a small playlist with her favourite songs at the moment and hit shuffle. The first few notes from “Provenza” started playing and the photographer started to sway a little while trying to select the right lens. “ This is nice, very… Spanish.”

“ Wow, how perceptive of you,” The brunette laughed at the comment and turned towards the blond who was standing awkwardly next to the lights. 

“ Can you tell me why you are so tense?”

“ I don’t like pictures.” The answer was short, delivered hastily, making the photographer almost regret asking in the first place, but she had a plan, and she was determined to get some answers out of the captain. 

“ And what don’t you like about them?”

“It is not the pictures I guess, but the camera,” she said with a certain disgust, “ It’s always looking, it’s like you are never really alone, someone is always watching.” 

“ It must be hard, not being able to go out without people pulling out their phones or cameras to catch a glimpse of you. I am sorry there are people who have so little respect for privacy.” The blond offered the photographer a small apologetic smile and took place in front of the background. 

“ How do you want me,... I, I mean where,... Wait, what should I do,” Rosalie brushed off Alexia’s stammering, thinking it was just the nerves and stepped away from her little station.

“ We’re just talking now, you can relax,” 

“ Si, thank you,” 

“How’s the light, are you blinded at all, can you still see me?” 

“ Si, it’s all ok,” the blond shuffled on her spot, “ Have you visited the city a bit since you moved?” 

The brunette was slightly surprised by the blond’s curiosity but gladly answered, taking this as a sign that Alexia was slowly getting more comfortable with her. 

“ Unfortunately not a lot, no, besides the streets around my apartment and the more touristy places, I haven’t seen much, I haven't even seen the beach yet.” A gasp almost made the woman drop her camera on the floor.

“ This is a crime. How could you not? You have to see the sunset, go take pictures, you'll see it’s beautiful.” The expression on the players face was too cute not to capture and the brunette took advantage of the moment to snap a picture of the awe displayed on the taller woman’s face.

“You’re gonna have to show me the good spots though.”

“Si si, Ingrid knows all of them, I can ask her to bring you..”

“ I didn’t ask Ingrid.” The captain instantly blushed at the comment and smiled big. A clic was heard and Alexia’s featured switch to indignation.

“You are distracting me!”

“ Guilty, I'm afraid, now cross your arms and spread out your stance a little bit for me please.” They stayed silent for a moment, the photographer trying different angles and Alexia holding the position she was currently in, harbouring a serious expression, as if ready to take on a whole team alone. Once the brunette lowered her camera Alexia decided to ask the question that had been on her mind since she had set foot in the studio

“ Why photography?”

[moonstruckme]

I can’t believe I’ve never read this but Sirius getting a tattoo of your name and you and EVERYONE is like ! And James is probs jelly heheheh

Thanks for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 802 words

“Well, the font at least sort of covers the misspelling,” you say, peering at the skin just to the left of Sirius’ back dimple. 

Remus hums his agreement. “Yeah, I sort of messed up in the middle there, so I switched to cursive to make it less noticeable.” 

“What?” Sirius twists around to try and see. 

“Joking, joking.” You smile up at him as he makes a sound somewhere between relief and offense, holding him still by his hip and not at all minding the excuse to do so. “It looks good, Siri. I just wish you’d told me you were getting it, I would have surprised you with the same.” 

Your boyfriend’s pursed lips relax into a familiar grin. “Yeah, sweetness?” Remus groans, finding something else to look at away from the two of you. “You mean it?”

“Nope,” you say bluntly, using your grip to tug him back down beside you on the couch. “Sorry, Rem, you’re never getting near me with that needle.” 

Remus huffs a laugh. “No pressure here.” 

“But baby,” Sirius croons, though it’s really more of a whine, “it’d be so hot. You could get it in the same spot too, so we’d match.” 

“You two already match plenty,” James decrees, coming in the door sweaty and covered in dirt from training. “Outfits and nail colors are enough.”

“Envious green doesn’t suit you, Prongs,” Sirius replies. He leans his head back so he can give his friend a disdainful look over the top of the couch, hair flopping away from his eyes. “Y/n loves when we match, don’t you gorgeous?” 

It’s a struggle not to let your eyes flit down to your star print socks, twin to the ones covered by Sirius’ boots. You give your best impression of insouciance in your shrug. 

“She’s a hostage to your schemes.” James tosses his bag to the floor, perching on the coffee table lest Remus get after him for getting dirt on the couch again. “What are you trying to coerce her into now?”

“He wants her to get a tattoo of his name like he’s gotten of hers,” Remus answers, the tiny quirk of his eyebrow at James conveying his disapproval of this plan. 

James’ eyes widen behind his glasses. “You got a tattoo of her name?” 

“Yeah.” Sirius grins proudly, already turning and pulling down his waistband. “Wanna see?” 

“Does he always take his pants off when you’re all home together?” you ask Remus. “Is this something I should be worried about?” 

“He’ll take his pants off at any opportunity,” he replies. “You knew what you were getting into with him.” 

“I guess I did.” 

“Fucking what?” James’ gaze jumps from Sirius’ hip to his face, betrayal in his big brown eyes. “That’s my spot. You’ve given her my spot!” 

You feel your brows furrow. “Excuse me?” 

“We agreed,” James says, and though his outrage doesn’t seem meant for you, you’re a tad intimidated regardless, “that I would get to choose the tattoo that went on his lower back. Pads, you swore an oath of brotherhood!”

“I was fifteen,” Sirius protests, mouth agape, “and drunk! I hardly remember what I agreed to!”

“Moony was witness.” James gives Remus an expectant look, mouth a hard line. 

Remus sighs like he’d really rather not be a part of this, but he knows better than to argue. “You did say that,” he tells Sirius, then turns to James. “Though it was a long time ago, and I’d like to have it on record that I didn’t recall it when I agreed to do the tattoo.” 

“Ah ha!” James points at Sirius accusingly. Sirius slaps his finger away with a roll of his eyes. “You’ve conspired against me.” 

“Why,” you ask James, “did you want to choose a tattoo for his lower back specifically?” 

James scoffs as though this should be obvious. “Because that’s the claiming spot. As he clearly knows.” He crosses his arms, glaring indignantly at your boyfriend. 

You shrug. “Well, he has two hips. You could always have the other one.” 

Now it's Sirius’ brow which furrows. “I’m not sure I appreciate my skin being auctioned off like this.” 

“Nobody’s auctioning you off, honey,” you placate him, rubbing his shoulder. Predictably, he softens under your touch, leaning against your side. You give his bicep a little squeeze. “For it to be an auction, we’d have to be exchanging money. This is for free.” 

Remus chuckles, and Sirius elbows your side meanly, but he’s smiling. James ignores them both, uncrossing his arms to lean his elbows on his thighs and looking at you with interest. 

“I could get behind that,” he muses. “You’d be willing to share him like that, though?” 

You roll your eyes as you smile. “I knew what I was getting into with him.” 

[hyukalyptus]

i need to tell you—idol!soobin x gn!reader | besties pining after each other, right person/wrong time, angst.

cw. angst, suggestive but not smutty, kissing, swearing, i think its a gn!reader? pls lmk if it's not and i'll fix it, reader is from LA and is a performer, reader had feelings while in a relationship but never cheated, mentions of a breakup, kinda implied it was a shitty relationship, lmk if there's anything else. notes. please lmk if there's anything that isn't gn! wc. 2.8K

I never thought this last night with you would happen—I’d known for months you’d be going on a three-month long tour soon, but I didn’t want to believe it. You’d fly in from LA, we’d hang out, play video games, and hide our feelings from each other. Then you’d go back to California, we’d text and call as much as we could, you’d come back, and it would all start over. 

But not seeing my best friend for three months, if not longer, sounds terrible. I take all of you in—your chin resting on your knees that are pulled to your chest, the city lights flickering across your face, the shape of your nose, you look stunning as ever. Your lips are squished by your knee pressing up on your chin and god, I wanna kiss you so fucking bad. 

There’s nothing better than being on tour, but part of me wants you here with me forever. 

But I can’t tell you any of this. Our feelings are undeniable but they need to stay a secret. You’re in a relationship—albeit a dead relationship, but a relationship nonetheless. More importantly, though, you’ll be leaving for three months tomorrow morning. We can’t start something now. 

Or maybe it’s the perfect time to start something. It would be the perfect way to say goodbye. Then again, I don’t wanna add stress to your already stressful tour. You get anxious so easily. Maybe it won’t be that long. 

“When do you think you’ll be back in Seoul?”

You blink out of your thoughts and say, “My last show is in Seoul actually, so…late October, early November.” I nod, taking another sip of my soju. “I don’t know how long I’ll stay though.” You shrug, leaning back on your hands. Turning away from me, you say, “I’m gonna miss you.”

Looking over at you, please just look me in the eyes. I want to see your beautiful eyes as much as I can before you leave. I wanna see you look at me the way you do before you say goodbye—a glint of hope and longing. I need to tell you— 

“I’m gonna miss you too.” That’ll have to do for now. Surely I’m being overly dramatic about all this. I don’t know. You look at me, but glance down as soon as our gazes meet. 

“You’ve become, like, my best friend out here.” 

Another reason why I can’t tell you my feelings. I can’t…I can’t do that to you. You need a friend out here. And if you don’t feel the same way about me—even if I think you do—you’d never talk to me again. And then you’d have no one out here. 

“You’re one of my best friends too,” I add. 

“Ah,” you scoff. “I got hit with the ‘one of’.” I chuckle with you, running my fingers through my hair as you stand to your feet. “I think I should go.”

No. You can’t. I need to tell you—

Standing up to join you, I’m only a few inches from you. I reach for your hand, but you pull it away to adjust your jacket sleeve. 

“Are you sure you wanna go?”

“On my tour?” Your eyes finally meet mine, like are you crazy? And yeah, I kinda am. “Yeah, I think I should go still,” you chuckle. 

“No, I mean,” I start. “Are you sure you wanna leave right now?”

“Oh.” You sigh, looking down at the cars driving down the street, watching the train that we spent hours on go by, watching the lights of the agency building flash. “I need to.” But you don’t want to. “My flight leaves in six hours and I haven’t even started packing.”

“Let me drive you to your hotel?” Please. 

Reluctantly agreeing, we drive in a devastating silence, like we both have the same thing on our minds. And that we both know we have the same thing on our minds. 

Arriving at your hotel, I pull up to the drop-off driveway and you start to hop out. No. Don’t go yet. I need to tell you— 

“Why don’t you park and walk me upstairs?”

I have no idea where this is going, all I know is I’m walking next to you down this hallway with my hands shoved in my pockets while your arms are crossed. Standing in the doorway, you lean back against the door, fiddling with your thumbs, refusing to look at me or open the door. 

Working up the courage, you look up and say, “I’ll see you soon, yeah?” I nod before we say our final goodbyes. The door shuts behind you slowly. No. Not yet. I need to tell you—

Walking away defeated, I hear a door behind me open, but I keep my eyes on the ground. A quiet “Soobin?” comes from behind me. I turn, welcomed by you pulling me into a hug. Your arms wrap around my neck and mine around your waist for what feels like forever. But it’s not enough. No. Don’t pull away yet. I need to tell you— 

Looking in my eyes, you bite your lips as you shift your weight. I can't help but think you’re about to say exactly what I want to hear right now. “Thanks for being such a good friend.” 

Letting out a soft laugh, I smile and say, “No worries.” You wave at me and turn back toward the door before I say your name. Turning back, you wait for me to say something while your hand rests on the handle. Please. Don’t go yet. I need to tell you— “I, uh…” I need to tell you. But I can’t. “Good luck.” 

“One more hug?” Oh, thank god. I nod, managing to keep my excitement from being too obvious. Your arms wrap around my shoulders again while mine fall around your waist, you face digging into my neck. I breathe you in, wishing I could just kiss you already. Pulling apart, you don’t move your arms away. You look in my eyes like you want to say something more. But you don’t know what. Or if you should. “You know,” you start. “I, uh…I wouldn’t be mad if…”

“If…?” 

“Are you gonna kiss me or am I gonna have to—“

That’s all I need. My lips crash into yours. It’s slow. And sweet. Your lips are soft, made kissable by that chapstick you’re always making me carry in my pocket. My hand is on your cheek as you smile against my lips and I lean into the kiss to deepen it. Breaking the kiss, you laugh out loud, your head falling back before you look up at me again. You’re so close to me. 

“For fuck’s sake—I’ve been trying to get you to kiss me all night,” you say. 

“What! No you haven’t.”

“We’ll, maybe I’m not the best at sending signals…” My lips find yours again, but only briefly. “Spend the night?” My eyebrows raise. I don’t know if I should—starting something like that right now is a little risky. And it would make saying goodbye that much harder. 

“Don’t you have to leave for the airport in, like, four hours?”

“Eh,” you shrug. “Yeah, I guess so, but I’d like it if you stayed.” You smile— “We don’t have to, like, do anything. I just wanna…” you take a deep breath, “spend more time with you. Wanna say goodbye in the morning, not right now, you know?” 

I let go of her, backing away. “I dunno if I should…”

“Oh.” You drop your arms to your sides. “Okay. Yeah.” Crossing your arms, you nod softly and bite the inside of your cheek. 

“I want to but,” I sigh. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea tonight.” 

“I-I just meant hang out,” you shrug. “I’m gonna be packing most of the time anyway. I mean, you definitely don’t have to,” you say. “Just thought you might want to.” 

I keep repeating to myself you’re in a relationship. You’re in a relationship. You’re in a relationship. We already kissed—what’s the harm in spending the night without sleeping together? No. I don’t want us to start like this. 

“I think I should go,” I say, saying our final awkward goodbyes. I’m walking away, but I know you’re still standing there, leaning up against the doorframe. Hope is trying to bubble up as I wait for you to call out my name again. But I’ve told you no. So I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. I would do the same. Although I just wish—

“I broke up with them.”

“What?” I turn to face you, chewing on your thumbnail as you slowly smile at me before giving me a nod. That’s it. 

Rushing back to you, I hold your face in my hand before kissing you again. We breathe each other in, arms wrapped around each other. 

“Are you being serious?” I ask you through my deep breaths. Biting your lip, you nod with a smirk. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I dunno, I’m sorry,” you start. “I guess I just—I guess I was embarrassed that it took so long,” she says. “And I didn’t want you to think I broke up with them for you. I broke up with them—”

“For you,” I say. You look up at me, mumbling a soft yeah before I say, “It’s okay,” I chuckle, peppering your face and neck with kisses while you giggle and scrunch your shoulders. “God, I’ve been wanting– to tell you–“ I say in between kisses. “For so long– that I have the biggest– crush on you.” 

“I know you do,” you laugh. “I have the biggest crush on you too.”

“Seriously?” You nod and I don’t let up with the peppering of your face with my lips. 

“Okay, okay—“ you say. “Lemme get the door open.” Laughing, you reach in your back pocket for the key, waiting for the buzz and the green light. As we stumble through, we kiss again, both of us in each other’s trance. The room’s spinning, I feel like I’m floating. Our hands roam everywhere. Mine settle on your backside to squeeze while you hum against my lips. Fuck. 

“You know,” I say in between kisses. “I know you said we didn’t have to do anything but I wouldn’t mind—“ 

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely having sex tonight.”

“Okay, good,” I laugh, picking you up by your waist to walk you to the bed. Sitting down, you straddle my waist—always smiling, giggling, being sweet. “You sure?”

“Ah, you’re so sweet,” you say, holding my face in your hands. “Here is me giving consent, yeah?” I nod. “Soobin, yes, I want you to fuck me.” Smiling into a kiss, you break it before saying, “Your turn.”

I say your name confidently, swiping a thumb across the apple of your cheek. “Yes, I wanna fuck you.” 

“Oh shit,” you say, your expression drops. “This is really happening.” My eyebrows stitch together; do you not want to— “I mean, you’re really here,” you say, looking over my face, squishing my cheeks to make my lips pucker. “You’re like…real.” 

“Are you okay?” I ask through my pouty lips. Groaning, you lift off me to plop down on your back, rubbing your forehead with your fingertips.

“Fuck, I dunno.”

“Um,”  I start, resting my hand on your thigh. “It’s okay. We don’t have to,” I say, watching for your reaction. Even if you do want to, there's a voice in the back of my head screaming at me Don’t do this! It’s not the right time! But there’s another part screaming Remember how long you’ve wanted to be with her!? You sit up, sitting criss-cross while you fiddle with the hem of your jeans.

Looking up, you look into my eyes, trying your hardest to put together the words you want to say but don't know how. But I know what you mean. “Soobin…I’m so sorry.” 

Shaking my head, I say, “No, no it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize.” 

“I just don’t think right now is a great time to…y’know, start something like this.” Well, at least it sounds like it would’ve started something, not just end with us having sex. “I just think,” you start, reaching to run your fingers through my hair. “It would make saying goodbye harder.” 

It would be the perfect way to say goodbye too though, no? 

“Yeah, you’re right.” I smile. And you are. I can’t imagine how shitty it would be tomorrow morning waking up next to you knowing I can’t see you for three months. Or even worse—you’ve already left and didn’t wake me up to say goodbye. “Let’s not—”

“I do want to though,” you sigh. “Just not right now,” you say, biting your cheek while playing with the bedsheets. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, get your hopes up, I dunno.” 

“Hey, listen,” I say, reaching for your hands. “I was happy when you came out of your room to give me a hug but kissing you…” I hold your face in my hands. “That was—do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” You shake your head. “I honestly couldn’t tell you either. I don’t remember a time before wanting to kiss you.” Tilting your head, you smile up at me shyly. “But we shouldn’t do anything unless both of us are ready, okay?”

Nodding, you say, “Yeah, okay.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Yes please,” you say. “If you’re comfortable with that?”

“I’ll tell you what…I’ll stay if you let me kiss you again,” I say. “If not…well, then I’ll still stay but you’ll be left kissless.”

“I can’t be left kissless, can I?” You joke, wrapping your arms around your shoulders, pulling me closer. Our lips meet again and it’s just as nice as the first time around. You’re so…perfect is the only way I know how to describe you. We’re trying, trying to tell each other what we want to say. And I think we can both hear it. But not saying it out loud is a pain I don’t know if I can bear. I can feel you start to pull apart, but I can’t yet. This can’t end. 

We hesitantly pull apart and you look at me, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. You’re absolutely fine. I promise.” But I know you’re not apologizing for not sleeping with me. You know you wouldn’t need to apologize for that. I know what you’re truly sorry for. And I’m sorry for it too. 

Tears start to pool in your eyes. Everything is a bit…much for you right now. You know you’re hurting me, you know you’re hurting yourself, but there’s nothing we can do about it. It’s simply not the right time. You need to focus on work and you need a friend while you’re gone. You don’t need to be dealing with a brand new relationship. I get it. I’m in the same boat as you are. 

“Hey…” I hold your face with one hand. “Dance with me?” 

Sniffling, you nod while I let go to turn music on my phone. A song I know you love—Unforgettable by Nat King Cole. 

“Ugh,” you say, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “You’re too sweet.” Wrapping around each other, this is the closest we’ve ever been. Your arms are around my waist as you cuddle into me, mine are around your shoulders, one of my hands on the back of your head. Your sniffles rattle me inside and out. Our hearts beat against each other as we sway, your cheek against my chest as I place gentle kisses to your forehead.

This song is saying everything we want to but can’t. Except for that one thing. Those three words that are being repeated in our heads over and over.  We both want to, need to say it, but we can’t. Now’s not the right time. 

Right now, though, this is perfect. You in my arms, moving to the music with me. And it all feels right, despite that one thing that’s missing. Our lips pull at each other like magnets until they’re pressed together gently and softly. I graze my thumb over your tear-stained cheek and you smile subtly against my lips. Your sniffles are dying down, but they’re still there. They’re still breaking my heart. 

Breaking the kiss, you look up at me and your lips part to say something—I know exactly what you want to say, but I shake my head. This isn't the right time. Closing your mouth, you keep looking at me, taking deep breaths before laying on my chest again. 

Your sniffles start to pick up again—more sporadic, uneven. A tear falls onto my neck and—god, I don’t know if I can handle this. 

“I do though.”

Your voice is strained and devastating. I absolutely hate hearing you like this. I can’t even bring myself to try to look at your face. My heart’s already broken. But seeing your face right now…it’d shatter it into a million pieces and would never be mendable. 

“I know,” I say, kissing your temple. “I do too.”

[estrellami-1]

We’ll Help You

Started as Steve and Robin platonic soulmate fluff. Devolved into *vaguely waves hands* whatever the fuck this is. I considered writing more but realized it would very quickly become Just Words, instead of a story, and I want y’all to have this because personally I think Steve and Robin are Goals in this one. As it is, there will not be a part 2 to this one… at least, not one written by me! If y’all want to do something by with this, go right ahead; just tag me in it!

“Bye, Mom, Dad, I’m going to Steve’s!” Robin calls into the house.

“Have fun!” Her mother calls back.

“Use protection!” Her dad yells.

“Dick!” Her mother yells back.

“That’s what I’m saying!” He says.

Melissa sighs. “Richard,” she says, faux-sweetly, “Robin and Steve are not together. She’s told us this many times.”

“Yeah, and neither were we when you-”

“Richard!” Melissa takes a breath. “Bye, Robin. Have fun, okay?”

“Okay,” Robin says, and closes the door, getting into Steve’s car with wide eyes.

He chuckles at her expression. “You good?”

“My parents have scarred me.”

Steve makes a face. “What, did you walk in on them?”

“No, they were talking about when they had me! I don’t need to know this, Steven!” She hisses back.

Steve just snorts, shakes his head, and drives on.

Robin is suddenly hit with a familiar, unwelcome pain. “Fuck,” she hisses, bending over and clutching her stomach. “Steve? I need to turn around.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

She wants to cry. “I, uh. Just started? And I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“Oh.” A pause, “What medicine do you usually take?”

She blinks. “Um. Advil?”

“Okay. Then I’ve got you covered.”

“No- Steve, it’s not just-”

“Robin,” he says calmly, “I’ve got you covered. I’ve got supplies at home.”

She blinks at him. “Since when?”

His cheeks pinken. “Since we became friends? I just… I dunno. I knew we were gonna be forever, y’know? And I want you to have access to anything you’ll need. So I got some stuff.”

“What the fuck,” she whispers, tears beading in her eyes. “What the fuck, Steve, I’m gonna cry, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Steve shrugs. “I just want you to have what you need.”

She sniffles and leans her head against the window. “Fuck, I love you.”

Steve smiles, puts a hand on her arm, squeezes gently. “Love you too, Robin.”

They get back to his house and get settled in on the couch. “I’ve got a heating pad, if you want it,” Steve offers.

Robin blinks at him. “Marry me.”

Steve laughs. “I thought that’s exactly what we’re trying to convince your parents isn’t happening.”

“I don’t care,” she responds, groaning in relief when she positions the heating pad. She collapses back into the corner of the couch. “I want to have a dick.”

Steve laughs. “You can’t even look at a dick, Robin.”

“I could if it was mine,” she argues nonsensically.

“You don’t want a dick,” he assures her, then pauses. “If you were a guy, would you still like girls? Or would you still be gay?”

“I… don’t know,” she says, thinking. “I mean, there’s people who were born one gender and are the other now, right? And they still like the same gender. So I would too.”

“Okay, but are we talking you were born a guy? Or you’d turn into a guy? Cause if you were born a guy, that might change things.”

Robin groans in frustration. “I wouldn’t care, as long as Satan stopped throwing parties in my uterus every month.”

Steve snickers. “I can’t fix that, but I do have chocolate ice cream.”

“And again I say, marry me.”

He smiles at her, affection shining through. “We’d be the best platonic husband and wife ever.”

Robin smiles, best she can through the pain. “Only if I’m the husband.”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs. “I can be the wife.” He pauses for a second, then asks, “Is that… is that something you’d want? Being a guy?”

Robin hums. “No. Much as I hate certain things that come with being a woman, I definitely wouldn’t want to be a guy.” Steve hums, frowning, and Robin shifts on the couch. “Hold on,” she says, “I know that look. What’re you thinking?”

“Just…” he runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t get what the big deal is? I don’t have super strong feelings about being a guy. There’s nothing telling me, this is who you’re supposed to be.”

“Okay,” Robin says slowly, carefully, “and how about your feelings on being a girl?”

Steve shrugs. “Same. I don’t care either way.”

“Huh,” Robin says, and leans back. “That’s… I mean, that’s okay, obviously, but that’s not… what a guy would typically say.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, ‘cause you’re such an expert on guys.”

Robin groans and thinks her head on the cushion. “Okay, so call someone. Call Eddie, he’d know, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve says, and hops up from the couch. “Hey, while I’m over here, should I order a pizza?”

Robin snickers. “Call Eddie first. Maybe he’ll come over and it’ll be the three of us. Actually, don’t even tell him, just invite him over. I wanna see his face when you tell him.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Robs. Eddie, hey! Wanna come over? Pizza and ice cream with me and Robin?”

Robin hisses at him, so he says, “Sorry, ice cream’s been spoken for, actually. Wait, Robs, are you sure? The whole tub?”

“Do not test me, Steven,” comes her response.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah, if you want to get one for the two of us to share, that would be great. See you in twenty? Okay, cool. I’ll order the pizza. Bye!”

He orders the pizza without a hitch. He’s promised delivery within fifteen minutes and wanders back over to the couch, where he grins at Robin. “Wanna pick a movie before Eddie gets here and can veto it?”

Robin grins back. “You know I’m gonna pick something you hate.”

“I know.” His smile turns more genuine. “As long as you’re happy.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

He waves her off. “Course you do. You gonna pick?”

“I’m surprised you doubted me,” she says, and picks something he hadn’t realized he had.

The pizza arrives a short minute before Eddie does. They all eat before Robin makes Steve and Eddie sit so she can recap everything.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, shrugging. “I just don’t care.”

“So our question is,” Robin says, “do you? Is there something in you that says you’re a guy, or would be wrong as a girl?”

“Definitely,” Eddie nods, studying Steve. “Y’know there’s people in between? Who aren’t really a guy or a girl?”

Steve’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “They go by they or them, and a lot of times they’ll change their name to be something more in-between too, like Avery or Taylor.”

“Huh,” Steve says, tipping his head back to stare through the ceiling as he thinks. “So… so if I were to do that… and maybe go by Stevie-”

“Then we’d call you Stevie,” Eddie nods. “We’d say they’re so cool, they have a nailbat, I’m so glad I’m friends with them.”

“Oh,” Steve says. His voice is shaky.

“Stevie,” Robin murmurs. “You’re crying.”

“Oh,” he says again, wiping his face and giving a little laugh. “Sorry. I dunno why. I think… that makes sense.” They look at Eddie, then Robin, holds eye contact when they say, “That’s who I am.”

Robin’s tearing up, too. “Nice to meet you, Stevie,” she whispers.

They choke out a little laugh and move to sit next to her, pulling her into a hug. “Love you, Robbie.”

“You too,” she whispers. “Hey, can I still call you dingus?”

Stevie laughs. “Sure, Robs.”

“Cool.” She beams and pulls them into a tight hug. “‘M glad you figured this out.”

Stevie giggles. “Me too.” They turn to Eddie, “Thanks for helping me figure this out.”

Eddie smiles warmly at them. “Anytime,” he promises. “And hey, now that you know, there’s plenty you can do, if you want to.”

Stevie furrows their brows. “Like what?”

“Well, you could grow your hair out, or cut it. You could change your wardrobe. You could get makeup, if you wanted. Anything that’ll help you feel more like you.”

Stevie frowns. “I don’t know what feels like me.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie says, smiling first at them, then at Robin. “We’ll help you.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  SWEET KANSAS HONEY

SUMMARY : invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : lavender mcclenic (oc), athena fonseca (oc)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), phone sex, dirty talk, sexting, voice kink, masturbation 

WORD COUNT : 1.5k

A/N : jamies elsewhere song title. this fills the free space square on my @jacklesversebingo card. lavender is based off of my best friend (athena is based off her gf) we have fictional plans to live on a farm, and have a tunnel connecting our houses LOL xxx

“Ah, this is exactly what we said our future would look like,” Y/n grinned, fixing the sunglasses on her face. She turned to face her friend, who did the same, walking towards the little shed where they could change into protective gear.

“Not really,” Lavender laughed, “you’ve got a boyfriend you love with all your cheesy heart. We don’t have a tunnel under our house like we said we’d have,” she listed, playfully. Y/n rolled her eyes and kicked the door open gently, sliding her foot along the bottom of the door as she stepped in before Lavender, looking around curiously. 

“Well, at least we’re still here, on a farm, makin’ money,” Y/n grinned, letting the door shut once her friend was inside collecting the white suits for them to slip into. Y/n placed her phone on the wooden table inside, the walls decorated with tools, and other items she didn’t know how to use. 

She changed quietly with Lavender, lifting the white suit over her regular clothes. They looked up at the same time and bursted out laughing for no reason at all. They were both bad at emotions, at least at saying them out loud, but Y/n had a feeling that laughter was a wordless I missed you. The phone on the table buzzed and Lavender looked over curiously when Y/n didn’t look. 

“It’s that boyfriend of yours,” Lavender teased, “you were so against dating, remember that?” Y/n shook her head and laughed, making sure she was ready to leave as Lav finished up.

“Whatever. So were you,” she dismissed, grabbing her phone with bare hands at the text notification with Dean’s name. She smiled, but she didn’t open it, and Dean sent another message. Her smile got wider.

“We grew up then,” her friend suggested, walking towards the door to open it with her back. 

“Sort of, I still like bees and honey,” Y/n told her, taking her own gloves before following her friend out.

“And I still think we should build a tunnel connecting our two houses. There’s plenty of land. I’d… do anything for you,” Lav hesitated with the last part, her cheeks turning pink. 

“Lav… that’s sweet, but-”

“The offer stands. Five years, or tomorrow—until we lose it all.” Lavender waved her hand to dismiss it and walked faster to avoid the embarrassment of being, well, loving. Dean texted her once more and she groaned softly. Either it’s an emergency or Dean’s just trying to get her attention. 

“I’m gonna…” Y/n trailed off and Lavender turned around and tilted her head at her friend. She lifted her phone and shook it. 

“Yeah, go, before I embarrass us both and keep saying sappy shit like that. I need a cleanse,” Lavender grunted, meeting her girlfriend who had the honey collecting tools on standby.

“Me too,” Y/n smiled, then turned around to check Dean’s messages. 

dean : Good morning, sexy, it’s been fifteen hours since I last saw you and I’m bored. So bored. How did I go through my childhood without you? :((

She laughed softly. 

dean : I woke up early and I was so cold because you weren’t sleeping next to me. 

Liar. He wears socks, pyjama pants, and a Henley to sleep. He’s the one who provides the warmth. Of course, he was just trying to be cute. And it was working. 

dean : I did a whole bunch of chores though. I cooked. Took Miracle out for a walk. Cleaned our room. And the Dean Cave. But I’m done now.

She smiled as she imagined him doing all of that. He’s undeniably adorable. He knew that. He knew how much he meant to her. She saw three speech bubbles appear, so she waited for his next message. 

dean : Oh. Hi, baby. I see you’re reading my texts now. I just want you to know… I’m picturing you coming home with a whole bunch of honey. And guess what? I’m licking it off your body. Yummy. 

She bit her lip as heat bloomed across her face. 

me : Good morning, handsome. I miss you, too. You’ve finished doing all that? Why don’t you watch a movie now? Read one of those books you’ve been wanting to read. Go to that bar that serves your favourite nachos, boys’ night out. I’ve got loads of suggestions if you run out. 

me : Also, you weren’t cold, but that’s cute. 

me : Second also, you can’t text things like that when we’re not together… very naughty, I don’t appreciate it. X

She saw the speech bubble again and she bit her lip, looking across at Athena and Lavender laughing together while they scraped the panels for honey. She smiled at them and missed Dean even more. 

She didn’t expect to see a photo. Not one quite like the one Dean sent. 

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, looking back up. She clicked the photo anyway, a smile growing on her face, and arousal dampening her underwear.

Dean was in the shower. 

Of course he’d take his phone with him. Of course he’d take the chance to get off. He had a high sex drive. He was daring. Unafraid. And he knew how hot he was. Especially all naked and wet. With his body all taut and flushed pink from the heat of the water. With his face distorted in delicious pleasure as he touched himself, his lip plump and trapped beneath his cute teeth. With his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. 

dean : I fig read what you seny 

She laughed softly. And decided to call him instead. He picked up instantly. She heard the water falling against tile and skin before she heard his heavy breaths or his husky voice. 

“Dean,” she whispered, her cheeks on fire.

“Hi, babe,” Dean moaned and she gasped, her stomach twisting with excitement. “I was expecting a text, a photo, not a phone call, but, uh, I appreciate it.” She shook her head, listening closely to the loud, lewd, sound of his wet hand moving quickly along his cock. 

“You’re jerking off?” She blurted out, looking up at Lavender and Athena who were waving her over impatiently. She smiled at them and nodded, putting her finger up. 

“Mmm, my morning’s been good, too. Well, kinda, thanks for asking, beautiful,” he replied sarcastically, moaning occasionally as he spoke. Her clit pulse and she squeezed her thighs to stop the discomfort of her arousal. 

“Dean…” She moaned, but there was a hint of hesitation that he picked up on. He groaned. 

“I’ll hang up, but please, text me something dirty so I get at least a bit of reality in my fantasy,” he begged. She heard him swear quietly and then he laughed breathlessly. 

She closed her eyes and thought about what to do. What to say. He sounded so hot, groaning and moaning her name, pumping his cock through his fingers faster and faster. 

“Dean,” she purred. He hummed softly, distracted by his pleasure. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” she instructed, smirking when he groaned long and loud. “I want to hear you, baby. Fuck, I wish I could see you. I wish I had you in my mouth right now so I can swallow every ounce of your cum.” Dean cursed loudly, brokenly moaning her name as he came.

He panted into the phone and she bit her lip, waiting patiently for him to recompose himself. 

“Ah, fuck,” he murmured and she lifted a brow curiously. “That was hot, baby. We should do it often. Like… even when you are here. I’ll be in the dungeon and you can be in the garage,” he laughed softly to himself and she rolled her eyes. “I miss you. I know it hasn't been that long and that I’ve been sleeping for a majority of the time… I guess I’m just not used to being alone anymore. Without you. I’m sorry for interrupting your time with your friend.”

Her smile softened. “I miss you, too, Dean. And it’s okay… I’ll be back Sunday evening. That’s tomorrow, by the way,” she teased and Dean laughed shyly.

“You didn’t say yes or no to my idea,” he reminded her. 

She smiled. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“How about tonight? Can we set up a time for it?” He asked excitedly, then the water shut off, and she heard his wet footsteps, then the soft sound of his towel. 

“Yes, I’ll text you,” she breathed out. “Now, stop doing… whatever it was that turned you on, and get some proper work done,” she laughed, putting one glove on as she prepared to go with her friends.

“I… just got horny suddenly when I was taking a break. I was reading… ya know, All About Love,” he hesitated. 

“What? Why?” She laughed, but she knew him well, and she’d read the book. “Stop thinking of me. It makes me wet,” she pouted playfully and he laughed again. “And next time you take a break, don’t touch your dick… Until I tell you to do so,” she added with a grin.

“I love you.” She could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, the open and shut of doors. 

“I love you, Dean,” she responded lovingly. She could hear him breath softly and hum shyly, a whispered bye, and she hung up. 

“Wow, you just throw around the L word, now, eh?” Lavender teased as Y/n walked closer to them, ready to join them. Y/n laughed sarcastically and Athena giggled. 

“Shut up,” Y/n grumbled, playfully snatching the tool in Lavender’s hand to help them out.

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld @angelbabyyy99 @girls-alias @impala1967rollingthroughtown @kezibear

or follow @deanbrainrotlibrary for fic notifications

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

dean’s 45th birthday celebration masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[squadmuse]

ONE DAY, Part II

A WILL HALSTEAD X READER FIC (FT. JAY HALSTEAD X READER; PLATONIC)

A/N: Yet again a huge shout out to @deanstead for being such a great person and helping me out!! Hope everyone loves this… I’m a sucker for dad!Will and it’s my first time ever writing him

It was pandemonium.

Even with Jay’s entire body covering you, all you could hear were screams and cries for help and the shrill sound of the ambulances rushing to the scene alongside the police cars.

Everything seemed like it was starting to blur when the blue eyes of your brother-in-law swam into your view as he pulled you up off the ground and started checking you over.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re okay!” said Jay worriedly, looking everywhere twice to make sure you had been not been hit by any of the flying bullets that had cut through the sky. “Are you hurt, does the baby feel okay?”

You tried to steady your breathing as Jay held your hands, but it didn’t seem to be helping even though you had someone as patient and calm as your brother-in-law. “W-What h-happened?” you asked shakily, looking around as best you could. Mama Garcia’s restaurant was ruined, the windows were shattered and there were quite a few injured people sitting or laid around being attended to.

“Gang drive-by shooting, don’t worry about it, I’ve got Voight looking into it,” he stated as he followed your own gaze, and he pulled you away. “Hey, let's get you two away from this and checked out.”

Nodding, you agreed and walked out the door with Jay slowly guiding you. As you reached the ambulance, you were relieved to see the kind face of your best friend Sylvie there.

“Oh I didn’t know you’d be here, Y/N! I’m going to check you both over real quick,” said Sylvie quickly as she started checking your vital signs and blood pressure readings with efficiency and calmness. Jay still stood beside you diligently, his eyes following every move that Sylvie made.

“Are Y/N and the baby okay, Sylvie?” asked Jay seriously. He didn’t like how long it was taking your best friend to clear you, even though he knew she’d never rush a diagnosis. Sylvie shook her head at his words.

“I’m going to send you to Med, okay sweetheart,” smiled Sylvie gently. “Your blood pressure is still high, and I want to get scans too.”

Now it was your turn to feel worried, and you clamped down on your brother in all but blood’s hand tight. “All I’ve got is a sore back, and I’ve had that for the last week or so, we’re both fine,” you reasoned, looking between the two. Both of them shook their heads. There was going to be no fighting these two that you knew already. Jay Halstead and Sylvie Brett were seriously stubborn people, but you loved them all the same.

It didn’t take long for Sylvie to load you into her rig, Jay helping out as much as possible as Violet pulled Ambulance 61 out to drive. Sighing, you looked over at your brother-in-law who was staring at the floor.

“Jay… this wasn’t your fault,” you said softly, reaching out to hold his hand. He smiled a small smile yet shook his head.

“I know that, but I should’ve just brought you the food home, then you two wouldn’t be on your way to Med,” he reasoned, squeezing your hand gently.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was my choice, and if you hadn’t been there then we’d both probably be dead right now!” you stated, but it didn’t do anything to calm Jay, and made him shudder violently.

“Don’t say that, I’ve already got to answer to Will when we arrive!” he replied tensely as he ran his hands through his short brown hair.

Both you and Sylvie looked at Jay in surprise.

“You haven’t phoned Will yet?” asked Sylvie, first from where she sat entering information into her iPad.

Jay shook his head. “It’s not that I’ve not tried, the git isn’t answering his cellphone,” he replied, and he ran his hands up and down his thighs anxiously.

“He might just be busy then, but Will will be grateful that we had you there, Jay,” you stated, holding onto one of his hands to stop him fretting. Even before you were pregnant, Jay had been extremely protective of you and now that you were, he would get bouts of anxiety over anything happening to you both.

Sylvie hummed quietly. “I can always send a message to Maggie, it goes direct through the system, that is if you’d like?”

You and Jay nodded, so Sylvie quickly went ahead and did it. At least then Will wouldn’t be surprised at the ambulance bay with your appearance.

———

It was as you were quietly talking away with Jay and Sylvie about the baby when you felt a pain like no other, and you couldn’t help but cry out.

Instantly, both of them were at your side and Sylvie was right away checking your vital signs and checking your body. “What’s wrong?” asked Jay as you clenched down on his hand again.

You couldn’t answer him as you could only clench your teeth as Sylvie poked and prodded with different machines and her hands. A broad smile lit up her face and she looked quite happy.

“I think someone is going into labor!” she said excitedly.

You sat there in shock before turning to look at Jay… but you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips as you saw his expression. He had turned white, and his mouth literally hung open. It was like nothing you’d ever seen before on Jay Halstead’s face.

“Please tell me you’re joking, Sylvie!” you said with your eyes wide. You did not want to give birth in an ambulance, and especially without your husband at your side. She shook her head.

“Contractions are coming fast, sorry!” smiled Sylvie as she inserted some low level pain medicine into you. “But we’re nearly there, and then you’ll be up in OB.”

Shakily, you nodded and closed your eyes.

Today had turned out to be one of those days.

———

Unsurprisingly, Will was the first person to open up your ambulance.

“Oh god, Y/N! What happened?” exclaimed your husband as he helped take your gurney out of the ambulance. He looked like he had run a marathon and his hair looked even crazier than usual.

You sniffled. “I don’t know Will! One minute Jay and I were having lunch together, then there were bullets flying everywhere,” you replied, cuddling into Will best you could as he and Sylvie rushed you into Med, with Jay following close behind. “I’m so sorry!”

Will shook his head affectionately, and smiled softly. “Hey, hey, I’m just glad you and our little guy are safe, that’s all that matters okay?” he stated, caressing the side of your face. “Jay and you have nothing to apologize about.”

Sighing, you nodded, watching as Will added even more monitors to you as Sylvie removed the ambulance ones. You smiled as she went to leave.

“I’m coming back, okay!” she giggled. “I’m not missing anything about this baby, and especially not the birth!”

You chuckled. Sylvie had been absolutely thrilled when you had announced the pregnancy and thrown herself into helping plan and organize the baby shower, gift registry, nursery, outfits and more. “Wouldn’t dream of it!” you replied, watching as the blonde walked away back to the rig with Violet.

“Anyway Mama, it looks like we’re going to get you up to Obstetrics,” grinned Maggie as she entered your treatment room. “Baby Red is on the way!”

Will and you both chuckled. It felt like the entire Emergency Department was excited about your and Will’s little one’s imminent arrival, as they had been for months, much like Sylvie and Jay. “Here’s hoping it’s an easy birth,” you said, leaning against Will’s side.

Now it was Jay’s time to chuckle and you turned to look at him. “Oh, you haven’t heard the story about Will’s birth?” he asked, and you shook her head. “Well apparently Mom was in labor for twenty-four hours, but you’re much less stubborn than my brother so you’ll do much better.”

Oh, sweet shiitake mushrooms.

———

It had not been quite so twenty-four hours, but after twenty-three hours, you and Will had finally become parents.

Madeleine Theresa Halstead had been born, screaming at the top of her lungs and covered in blood and fluids, but she was the most beautiful thing you and Will had ever seen in your lives.

Will had cried as he had cut her cord and brought her over to you. Your daughter was absolutely tiny, with minuscule fingers and toes and the cutest little nose too. Coming in at 7lb 8oz, she was absolutely perfect.

“Here we were thinking she was going to be a little boy,” chuckled Will softly as he sat beside you in your hospital bed. You had been moved into a private room, and it was just what you, Will and little Madeleine needed. “Somehow Gabriel Patrick Halstead doesn’t quite fit.”

You smiled, but you hadn’t stopped smiling ever since you had brought your daughter into the world. “Jay knew, somehow,” you whispered as Madeleine slept in your arms, swaddled in the blanket that you had knitted months ago.

“My brother, the pregnancy guru,” laughed Will as he kissed your head, watching to make sure Madeleine didn’t stir. “We still good on who we picked for godparents?”

“Of course, they’re perfect.”

Will nodded. “I think Maggie has had everyone gather in the waiting room. Do you want to bring them in?” he asked. You nodded silently and watched as Will wandered out the door.

Cuddling Madeleine closer to you, you sighed. You had never felt so much happiness and love as you had for your little girl. “You’ve got a great daddy, Maddie,” you whispered to her. “We’re so lucky to call him ours.”

Madeleine grumbled softly in her sleep, and you could only whimper a soft noise as she somehow made the same face as Will, her father, did whenever he was asleep. It seemed she even had even inherited his auburn hair also.

You were still absolutely enamored with your daughter when the door to your room opened up again and a small group of people slowly made their way in alongside your husband.

Jay was there, grinning. It seemed he had bought the biggest pink teddy bear he could find. It was easily four times the size of his niece, your daughter. Sylvie was there too, bubbling away with anticipation about getting to meet your daughter. Matt was at her side, grinning happily as he held onto a big pink balloon and white bunny rabbit toy. Maggie had come and so had April, Connor and Daniel, some of your and Will’s closest friends at work. It seemed that word had spread fast that the newest Halstead had been born, and the first Halstead girl in three generations to boot. Cindy and Christopher Herrmann were there, also bearing gifts, and so were Kim and Adam with their little girl Makayla, who was asleep in her father’s arms.

Will quickly sat down beside you, and you softly placed Madeleine into her father’s strong arms.

“Everyone, we’d like you all to meet our daughter, Madeleine Theresa Halstead,” said Will proudly, as he smiled down at his little girl in his arms. The little group cheered so softly and one by one made their way to meet the newest member of their family of sorts.

“Congratulations, she’s absolutely adorable,” grinned Jay as he hugged Will, taking care not to hurt his niece any way. “Mom and Dad would be so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Jay. I just wish Madeleine could’ve met them.”

“She’s going to know them in a way, we’ll make sure of it. It’s a nice touch to give mom’s name to Madeleine as her middle name too.”

Madeleine had woken up in Sylvie’s arms, and yet she had not made much of a noise. Her little gaze seemed to be enamored by your best friend and you giggled. “I think that means she likes her godmother Auntie Sylvie!”

Sylvie’s eyes bugged out of her head at your words. “Oh… you chose me?” she asked softly, tears pooling in her eyes at the fact you and Will wanted her as Madeleine’s godmother.

Will nodded. “If it hadn’t been for you and Matt actually getting us two together, we’d not be here,” he told Sylvie, who nodded, before carefully passing the baby to her boyfriend, who expertly held the baby with a smitten tenderness. It was true, even though you and Will worked in the same hospital department, it had taken so long for either of you to make a move that Sylvie had taken it upon herself, roping in Matt too, to get you both together.

Sylvie hugged you tight. "I already love that little angel so much. She's so precious!" she smiled, wiping her tears. "Who would've thought that what I did would cause all this?"

“That one day was all it took, and now look where we all are.”

[eddieschains]

It’s Really Over, Isn’t It?

A/N: this is a repost from when i first started my blog

Word Count: 1.6k

Part 2 Part 3

7 months and 23 days. That’s how long it’s been since you last saw Eddie. You spent 3 years together, pushed him to focus on graduating, until he pushed you out. At least that’s how you saw it.

You knew he wanted to take Corroded Coffin farther than Gareth’s garage, farther than The Hideout, farther than Hawkins, but you always figured he’d wait for you. He always knew your plans to go to college, and promised to stick around for you. He must’ve forgotten about that promise.

“Y/N I can’t stay here. I need to leave, need a fresh start, need to make something of myself other than being a freak and an outcast.”

“And what about me Eddie? Do you not remember the promise you made to me? That you’d wait for me? That we’d start fresh together?”

“Then come with me.”

“You know I can’t do that Eddie. We both have dreams and we both need to make those come true but I don’t understand why you can’t do that here?”

“This is Hawkins! No one cares about me or about my music here!”

“I care about you! I care about you and I thought you cared about me too.”

“I do but… I’m sorry I need to do this for myself. Wait for me. I’ll be back. I promise.”

“I’ve heard those words before.”

Even though he shattered your heart into a million pieces, you did what he asked. You waited. You waited for months without a visit, a letter, or even a phone call. You waited until you couldn’t wait anymore.

Starting to come with the terms that he wasn’t coming back, you doubled down and tried your best to move on. You focused on your school work and got a job at the local video store. You soon became close friends with the other people who worked there, Steve and Robin. You faintly remembered them from school but never had a conversation.

They comforted and consoled you every time you came into work with mascara stained tears on your face, or when they watched the way you jumped every time a boy with long brown hair and a jean jacket walked in.

You and Steve grew particularly close, both of you bonding over your recent heartbreaks. The two of you never had the intention of starting a romantic relationship with each other, but after spending so much time together and having so much in common, it kind of just happened.

Steve had finally gotten fed up with both living in Hawkins and living with his parents, so he decided to get a place of his own. Feeling the same way, it was only natural that you’d go with him. At least someone wanted you to be part of their plans.

It was finally moving day, and Steve gathered a couple of his friends to help you guys pack and load everything into the back of the BMW. It also gave you guys time to say your goodbyes before you start living like true adults. You weren’t going to be too far from Hawkins, but you knew you weren’t going to have as much time to visit as you’d like.

“All right babe, I think that’s the last of it.” Steve says, shutting the trunk full of boxes. You smile and nod before turning to the gang.

“My god I can’t believe you guys are leaving me.” Robin blurted, pulling you in for a hug. “Now who’s going to help me pick out cute girls at the store?”

You chuckled, “I guess you’ll have to leave that to Keith.” Robin makes a gagging noise before pulling Steve in for a hug as well.

“Hey, you.” You look at Dustin, seeing tears trying to form in his eyes. “We’re only going to be 30 minutes away. And you can visit anytime you want.” You reassure him, rubbing his shoulder.

“Just sucks. First Eddie and now you guys…” He trails off. You feel a pit in your stomach at the mention of his name. No one really talked about him around you, not wanting to bring up the pain again. “Shit. Sorry.”

You smile, shaking your head. “It’s okay Dusty Bun.” You wrap your arms around him, squeezing tight. “I’ll be back soon.”

You turn to the sound of keys jingling, looking to see Steve motioning you into the car. You say your final goodbyes before hopping in the passenger seat.

The drive is quiet. Nothing but the radio and the sound of cars passing by. Your head is leant up against the window, watching the Hawkins trees slowly disappear in the car mirror.

Steve takes notice, placing a hand on your thigh. “You okay?” You jump at his sudden touch.

“Y-yeah i’m fine.” You place your hand over his and flash a smile. You weren’t fine. You couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. It wasn’t Dustin’s fault for bringing him up, but ever since you heard his name leave his mouth, it’s all you could think about.

About how he was supposed to be the one you got an apartment with. He was supposed to be the one you left Hawkins with. He was supposed to be the one you started the rest of your life with. But you had to push that all behind you. You had Steve now, and Eddie wasn’t coming back. It had been 7 months for christ’s sake.

Finally reaching the apartment complex, Steve stays behind to fill out the remaining paperwork while you start to bring the boxes inside. The apartments are decent, not glamorous by any means, but definitely the nicest units you and Steve could afford.

You were walking up the stairs to your new home, box in hand when you heard a familiar voice. It caught you off guard. You knew that voice. It sounded just like Eddie, but you brushed it off thinking it could never be him.

You set the box down outside the door before running back to the car to grab another box. Walking back up the stairs, you see a tall man with long curly hair and a leather jacket on. There’s absolutely no way it’s him. At least that’s what you thought. He turned to face you when he heard your footsteps, and the both of you stopped dead in your tracks.

“Y/N?” He questioned. You could feel the heat rushing to your head, trying to figure out if this was reality or if you were dreaming. “Hey… it’s me.”

“Eddie.” You blurt out, blinking your eyes rapidly to see if you could wake yourself up. It doesn’t work, and you’re faced with quite possibly the worst thing that could happen to you on this day. “Hi.”

“Hey… uh what are you doing here?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking you up and down.

“Uh i’m moving in.” You respond, holding the box up for him to see. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh… uh my uncle moved in here, needed to leave Hawkins.” Of course he did. Something the two of them had in common.

“Oh nice nice. Uh- I should really start moving these in.” You try to walk past him to your door before he puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.

“Wait. Can we talk?”

“I don’t know what you’d want to talk about Eddie. You left, I moved on, that’s that.”

“I don’t want that to be it.” He’s staring into your eyes, and you see the remorse behind his brown corneas.

“You left me Eddie. You left me and you didn’t write, didn’t call, didn’t visit. I don’t know what else you want from me.” You pushed past him, setting the box down with the others.

“I know I did, trust me I know. But, I waited for you. I know I hurt you and I wanted to give you space but- I thought you’d reach out eventually.”

“Why would I do that? 3 years Eddie. That’s how long we were together until you threw it all away. Until- until you broke my heart.” You feel the tears creeping up, trying to suppress them. “And i’m sorry but I deserve better than that. I deserve someone who isn’t going to just throw me away like I never existed.”

He hangs his head in shame, taking in what you’re saying to him. And he knows it’s true. All of it. He knows you deserve better. He looks down at the boxes and points to one of them. “Why does that say Steve on it?”

Shit.

“Uh that’s my boyfriends.” You shyly explain.

“Boyfriend? Who-uh-who’s Steve? Where is he?” You now see the tears starting to form in his own eyes.

“Steve Harrington.”

“King fucking Steve? Seriously?” He yells, but it’s not an angry yell. It’s a yell of sadness. The realization that he lost his chance.

“Yeah. King Steve.” You almost chuckle at the nickname.

“You guys are living here… together?”

“I mean that’s the plan, yeah.” You respond.

“So it’s really over, isn’t it?” This time he can’t hold back his tears. Letting all of the emotions he’s held in up to this point flow out.

You look at him, the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with, and he’s broken. You don’t know what LA did to him, but you knew it wasn’t good. He would’ve never acted like this before he left and you knew that. You can’t respond with words, just your eyes. But he understands.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps and look to find Steve coming up the steps. Finally. He’s carrying a car seat in his hand, sleeping baby sat inside of it.

“Whose baby is that?” Eddie questions the both of you. You look at Steve, who’s looking between you and Eddie.

Fuck.

[no-song-so-sweet]

I want to talk about Harry Potter.

Well. Sort of. I want to talk about Harry Potter in a roundabout way, in that, I want to talk about the reaction my friend group had when shit started really going down with That Bitch Rowling.

Because Rowling is a horrible person. She’s a TERF, a denier of Nazi Crimes, homophobic, anti-Semitic, the list goes on and on (and most recently, has been attacking a trans soccer manager, if my dash is to be believed? Somehow, she just seems more cartoonishly evil with each passing day). But this isn’t about That Bitch Rowling, not really. Or if it is, she’s merely a footnote in the story.

Harry Potter was, and I think this is true for many of us, a large part of my childhood. While the writing may be mediocre at best, it was wildly influential. I didn’t know a single kid that wasn’t hoping for a letter to Hogwarts. It was a Big Deal for a lot of people, and that included my friend group. My friend group, which is made up of members of the LGBTQ+ community. My friend group, which includes a young lady who we didn’t always know was a lady. I’m sure you can see where this might be going.

The day I got a tear filled phone call about That Bitch Rowling was, frankly, heartbreaking. She was mad because a woman she had respected up until now didn’t respect her. She wanted to get rid of her copies of the books, but didn’t want to donate them. I never want to hear her cry like that again. So I made a decision.

I told her to hold onto her books for just a little while longer. I phoned the group. I figured out when everyone could get together for a weekend, and when I had hammered out dates, I packed up my car, and drove the six hundred miles back to my childhood home.

In the passenger’s seat, was my set of Harry Potter books.

Excluding my trans friend, there were seven of us. I had made a plan, and my father had the space to enact it - I grew up on acres of land; complete with 200 year old oak tree, creek in the woods in the backyard, and a massive fire pit.

Nostalgia and youth, I find, paint everything with a rose tinted hue; if Rowling had just kept her mouth shut, I’m sure many of us would have looked back on the Harry Potter series with some amount of shame. But I don’t think it would have suffered the sort of fall from grace that led us to this point.

The fire pit is important for several reasons. For example, it had been the popular gathering place for my friend group of literal decades at this point. Small towns mean that you know everyone from a very early age. We lived right beside the woods, so we used the fire pit to burn the leaves, and the branches storms took down, of which there were many. And when the first six of my friends rolled down the half mile driveway that day, I had already collect enough wood to get a decent fire going.

Six of my friends. We told the seventh a later time. We wanted to be prepared, and anyway, we all had the same cargo (six sets of seven books joined mine on a rickety folding table). I put them to work collecting more firewood (is it really a good bonfire if you’re not risking setting the barn on fire?).

By the time our last member rolled up, I had a fire going.

She had her set of those damn books too.

(There is a visceral grief that comes from being let down by your childhood heroes, and I fully believe that That Bitch Rowling embodies the phrase “never meet your heroes,” because folks, as a general rule, I am not a fan of burning books. But I was prepared to make an exception.)

We burned our copies of the Harry Potter books that day, all eight of us. They were well read, beaten to hell and back, with cracked spines, and dents in corners, and pieces of the pages missing where we had bent down the corners one too many times. And I won’t lie to anyone. We cried. Tears of sorrow and rage, for the piece of our childhood that we were choosing to give up, because to keep it would be to disrespect the woman we had known and loved for longer than we’d ever had those books.

Letting go sucked. But it was the right thing to do.

When they were gone, we put out the fire, went inside, and built the pillow fort of our dreams. We marathoned Star Wars, and ordered too many pizzas, and had way too much soda. We fell asleep playing Risk, because that’s what our friend choose, and in the morning, I made waffles with chocolate chips and too much maple syrup.

I wanted to talk about this, not just because this is a fond memory for me (even though it is), but because one of my coworkers confessed to me that they hated Rowling, and everything she stood for, and they refused to have anything else to do with the Harry Potter franchise, but they just couldn’t bring themselves to get rid of the books.

I said I was happy to host another book burning.

But I wanted to write this down because I know that sometimes it’s hard to take that final step, to leave behind that last thing. So for anyone who needs to hear it, it’s okay to grieve the things we loose when we grow up. Letting go can be hard, but I promise you’ll end up better off. It’s been awhile since things really went downhill, but I maintain that, in this case, death of the author is nonexistent, and it is better to have loved and then lost, than to hold on too tight.

Don’t hurt yourself on the shattered remains of your childhood magic.