#but I also don’t blame them if they never want to come near us again

[lenacopperleaf]

….it seems we are resigning a lot of former avs. And we just lost a defenseman. ….and Tyson Barrie is still a free agent….. 👀

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION… PT.1 ]

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] - ( there’s a lot to unpack in this one, I know, but you’ll enjoy it.. also pls kindly lmk the artist for the fanart I used so I can tag them thx! )

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

Alastor Hartifelt was a fantastic husband.

No one could deny that.

Especially not his darling wife of one year and counting.

You, his sole companion during childhood, dawning from a rich family that occupied an estate near his family’s plot of farming land, and exceptionally infatuated with him early into your friendship.

From the very first time you met him out in the sprawling green meadows of Louisiana’s swamped countryside you found comfort in each other even amidst being ignored or teased by other children.

Their shared hatred and resentment towards you and the older boy cultivated an odd but strong bond between you two, and soon your strife to fit in seemed less appealing than being his truest friend.

Alastor immediately became protective of you, finding your shy nature welcoming like his own mothers, but also irritated by those who wished you harm for the simple fact that your family was better off than their own.

If anyone dared to pick a fight, tease, or berate you Alastor was right there to come to your aid. You’d tell him time and time again that fighting for you wasn’t worth it, that seeing him hurt wounded you more than their words, but for some baffling reason he’d never head your pleas.

Why?…

In retrospect Alastor wasn’t sure of the reason himself but he was certain it had something to do with the way you returned the favor by protecting him in your own subtle ways.

Your arms remained wide open when he needed an embrace, voice full of tender understanding when the two of you held quiet conversations late into the evening, and generally being his safe place when the rest of the world refused to be.

You were his darling from the very beginning…

His everything…

Yet, Alastor wouldn’t dare say it aloud..,

The two of you couldn’t be more different to those who observed your relationship from the outside. Alastor held an air of confidence wherever he went, suave, and well mannered. He could be cunning when provoked, dangerously charming to get his way, and refreshingly decisive under any amount of pressure.

A man every woman in New Orleans wanted, craved even, but it was well known the famous radio host had you at his side.

You, the city’s undisputed princess, daughter of a wealthy businessman, but regarded as the furthest thing from a ‘spoiled brat’. It was expected for those in higher circles to have sour and condescending attitudes but you proved to be different. Soft spoken, interested in the arts more than being out on the town, and some might’ve considered you ‘sheltered’ in terms of upbringing.

The contrast between Alastor and yourself brought about many whispered rumors and questions.

“How’d a sweet little thing like her end up with him?”

“Doesn’t he want someone better suited? Whats so special about her?”

“I hear, he married her for the fathers money. Don’t blame him for it either…she’s a real peach…”

“A little young for him don’t you think? She’s a lovely broad though…”

You’d heard it all. Every sort of rumor or piece of gossip people had to offer you’d picked up on rather quickly and at first it bothered you, but overtime seeing Alastor act indifferent to the scandalous comments made you less weary of them.

He’d never entertain the scrutiny, choosing to remind you his decision to marry wasn’t fueled by any ill will and as his wife you’d never need to worry about him caring for you.

Alastor’s always had, even when he’d left New Orleans to build his career he still thought of you from time to time, but that’s all he’d ever done.

Cared for you…

Love seemed to allude his spectrum of emotions and vocabulary. Yes, he shows you affection, buying expensive gifts, making sure you never lifted a finger for anything other than cleaning or cooking when needed, and proudly showing you off on his arm at parties and social events he attended.

Yes, he strived to hide his murderous tendencies, taking extra lengths to shield you from his ‘hunting’ escapades by planning them weeks before, and then going as far as discreetly cleaning his bloody clothes and weapons the night he returns while you slept soundly in your shared bed.

Alastor took great care in showing you he cared but defining his love for you was never addressed.

Not even on your wedding day.

It was as if he’d scripted his vows to say nothing of the emotion and even avoided saying “I love you” back when you’d accidentally let it slip out during your own speech for him.

You hadn’t pressed the issue at all, knowing Alastor struggled with concepts of intimacy and devotion since childhood, but the lmawing teeth of doubt pricked your skin harder with each passing day of your marriage.

Had you made a mistake agreeing to marry him?

Was he seeing someone else?

Someone knowledgeable of the world, maybe more experienced in life than you were, or more attentive?

Was she prettier?

Were you not his kind of woman?

Where did he go so late at night, at random times of the month, with a leather bag in his hand and a wide smile on his face?…

Had Alastor been seeing another woman for a whole year and you were just too oblivious or infatuated to notice?

Did he even like you anymore? Could he ever love you…?

Were you not enough for him?

Thoughts plagued your mind constantly, causing you to be quieter than usual, and less receptive to Alsstors lingering presence.

Your back was to him, giving a good veiw of your small frame as you cooked in the large kitchen. The familiar sight brought a smile to Alastor’s face. You were so focused, hair tied back by a white silk bow, and a sheer floor length robe to match.

He’d bough both for you only a week prior, claiming he couldn’t just let the items sit in the display window when you’d been staring at with such bright stars in your eyes, but in truth Alastor had imagined you wearing it just as you were now and couldn’t resist buying it on the spot.

Your husband remained silent as he watched you waltz around the kitchen, chocolate brown eyes peering over the top of his glasses as he did, but his smile faltering seeing the distress in your delicate features.

You weren’t the type to frown often, always emitting warmth and sweetness, so the rare appearance of anguish in your expression perplexed Alastor.

What had upset his darling wife?

Who would he have to kill?….

Asking what was troubling you would surely give him answers to both questions.

He stepped forward, coming from round the corner to enter the kitchen fully before striding over to stand by your side as you began to mix what he assumed was dessert in a bowl.

Albeit, he was probably right knowing you had a vicious sweet tooth.

“Strawberry cake I presume?” Alastor finally speaks, making his presence known with a cheeky remark, and you nearly jump out of your skin hearing his silky voice resonate around the room.

Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with slight surprise, but they quickly soften as he smiles. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as he steps closer, initiating his usual habit of brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before kissing your temple gently, and only pulling away when you squeak out a greeting back to him.

“H-hi Al…you’re home a bit earlier than I expected…” you swallow thickly, staring at him adoringly for a moment before lowering your gaze as tinges of guilt build in you. “I’m sorry dinner isn’t quite ready yet…” you whisper, feeling shameful, and more agitated with yourself than before. Alastor had and would never berate you, unlike most men of the time he saw no benefit in treating his wife like a slave, and made an effort to remind you not everything had to be perfect.

“It’ s alright, darling. You needn’t rush yourself,” his voice is low, simmering with reassurance as he lifts your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. You smile nervously as your eyes meet his again, his touch firm and electrifying all at once, and your tummy doing several flips when he smiles back at you.

Alastor studies your face, attempting to pinpoint the source of your masked sadness, “You seem…troubled, sweetheart. Is there something wrong?” His genuine question brings a shock to your heart, tongue going numb as you race to think of a believable reason for your dampened mood, “I…I just had a little mishap with this cake batter is all!..”

You step away from him, turning to face the semi clean counter with a false air of cheeriness surrounding you. The fear of sounding needy and demanding while telling Alastor the truth keeps you from being honest with him outright.

Fake it.

I shouldn’t worry him with my insecurities or doubts…

It might push him further away…

The whisk in your hand spins in tight circles as you focus on mixing the overdone batter, beginning to thicken itself more than necessary as you kept going, using the task as a distraction from Alastor’s keen observance.

Something was wrong.

He was sure of it now.

His eyes narrowed behind the circular glasses, hands finding your waist as he came to stand behind you, allowing his chest to press against your back, and his head lowering to tuck into the crook of your neck.

A shiver racked your body as he exhaled a long, steady breath onto your skin. Your hands faltered, flurried movements becoming lax as you froze in his embrace, “When’d you start lying to me, ma chère…” Alastor mumbled into your ear. Every nerve in your body was on alert, shocked that he’d went much further than his usual bounds of physical affection, but pleasantly delighted he’d given it to you.

“M’ not lying,..”you try to uphold your lie through rising pants, tempted to moan quietly feeling his lips graze behind your ear, neck, and bare shoulder while your robe shifted lower. You weren’t certain if Alastor was inching it down by his own accord or your subtle squirming against him was to blame.

The ending result was the same either way. Your upper body gradually becoming exposed to his leering gaze and the cool air. Alastor hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and flooding your mind repeatedly as he placed chaste kisses on your neck.

“I wish I could believe you, darling…” he chuckled lowly, hands inching towards the lace ribbon keeping your gown tied shut, and with one gentle tug he rendered the fabric useless. “Al..” you whined in slight surprise as he snatched the ribbon off, letting it unravel into a small pile on the tile floor before sliding his cold hands up the expanse of your heated torso.

Nothing.

You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin robe and Alastor audibly groaned when he realized it.

Had you planned on this?

Were you just waiting for him to venture further with you?

All this time he’d watched you frolic and pace around your shared home, wondering what was hidden under you seemingly modest clothing….just to find you wore nothing at all…

Oh, what a rare occurrence it was for him to be such a blind fool.

Your hands flew to grasp Alastor’s wrists as he held you tighter, kneading your soft flesh lovingly, and taking his time to admire every dip and curve you had to offer him.

“Al…please..” you begged, visibly shuddering as he nipped at your neck and played with your breasts. “I won’t go any further until I hear the truth from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart…”

Damn it….you cursed yourself, slowly losing the will to think as his lips found the most sensitive area on your neck, bruising it with his tongue teeth until you whimpered and rushed out a jumbled explanation for your heavy mood.

“I…Imscaredyoudomtlovseme…th-that you d-don’t want me- Ahm…” you soft voice reached a new octave as your husband slid his free hand between your thighs to cup your mound, gingerly kicking your legs apart with a nudge of his foot against your own, and you tensed all over as he did so.

Fuck, he could definitely feel how desperate you were now, essentially a mess already without Alastor doing much of anything, and embarrassingly unable to control your arousal.

“Love, hm? That’s what’s troubling your precious mind?…” Alastor mulls over your confession, able to maintain his composure despite heat rushing straight through him to the head of his cock as he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt. You jolted from the sudden intrusion, head lulling back to rest on his shoulder as he pumped them in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling his deft digits fowvard every so often to make you shiver.

His thumb found your clit, pressing defined circles into it as he began to ease your worries, “Love, ma chère, isn’t what I feel for you..” Alastor lets out a soft laugh, trying to calm his own mind before clarifying his vague statement all while pushing you near the edge of your first high.

“No….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…” he admits the darker side of his affection through heavy breaths, cock twitching in his dress pants when you mewl in understanding. Your warm cunt suffocates his fingers for a moment, walls fluttering as the knot in your core threatens to undo itself, causing Alastor to sharply exhale from the inviting fluctuations.

Your lips parted to warm him of your impending orgasm but only a strained moan tumbled off your tongue. Alastor needed no other sign to tell if you were close, inwardly prideful he could make you come with ease.

“Go on, come undone for me , darling,” he insists in a hushed groan, his fingers stretching your walls in a fluid rhythm to drag your climax out, and you could’ve tumbled to the floor from the sheer intensity of the knot inside you snapping on his command.

Thankfully his taller frame kept you securely trapped between him and the counter that you soon found yourself sitting on the edge of after Alastor slipped his hand away from your throbbing cunt.

You watched with a dazed eyes as the older man licked a stripe of your cum off his fingers, brown eyes sliding shut as he let out a satisfied grunt before staring at your willing form perched on the counters edge.

The sight drew a his hidden hunger closer to the surface, toying with his self control as he took it in, and urging him to act on a primal instinct he’d only ever describe as “intense affection”.

Was that a flash of red in his eyes just now?

No , it couldn’t be…

You weren’t left much time to decipher the hungry glint in his eyes before Alastor reclaimed his position near you. His slender waist slotted perfectly between your thighs, the robe now draped off your back, and your hair gradually falling loose from its simple updo as his hands traced your sides.

“Love, sweet girl, is for lonesome fools…” Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, letting you chase his lips for one heated kiss after the next, and only denying you another to whisper against your soft and slightly swollen lips.

“Neither of us are alone or fools, correct?” He huffs as you nod slowly, bringing your hands up to undo his tie, and then proceeding to expertly unbutton his vest and dress shirt.

The general charm that Alastor maintained completely dissolved into pining under your gentle fingertips, an almost desperate shot of adrenaline consuming him as you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck.

If what he said was truly how he felt about you…it was enough to stamp out your doubts, allowing the adoring side of you he’d grown familiar with to resurface, “No…we aren’t,” you respond with a small smile.

He tips your chin up, placing a deep kiss on your lips as he shrugs his shirt and vest off, setting his glasses to the side as well before reaching for the leather belt on his waist.

You paid his actions no mind, busy with fighting his tongue for dominance, but admitted defeat quite fast as his wandered your mouth in expert fashion.

Your soft hands passed over his chest, moving up to tangle in his soft curls, gently tugging the strands to earn a groan from him. Alastor pulled back, a single line of spit connecting you two as he did so, and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he stared down into your tear glossed gaze, “You’re mine, ma chère. Til death and beyond…”

You nod, halfway coherent, but mustering the will to answer him with a content smile.

“Til death…” you repeat the phrase, mind reeling further from logical thinking as Alastor hummed hearing your dazed response, head nestled in your neck once more before he trailed open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your trembling frame. He brought himself as close as possible to you, smiling on your skin as you gasp quietly feeling his clothed erection press flush against your bare stomach, leaning further back in his hold embrace him better. You feared making a mess of the counter but as Alastor trailed his lips down your body and kneeled between your legs he gave one swift snap of his fingers to eliminate the obstacle entirely.

What?….How in the world did he do that?…

Your curiosity would’ve prompted you to ask him about the absurd occurrence if it weren’t for the anticipation rushing your blood as he came face to face with your cunt. “Alastor?…” you squeaked his name softly, attempting to close your legs when he sighed out a warm breath on your glistening folds, but he held them open using one hand with ease. The other resting steady on your waist, guiding you to lay back onto the cold marble countertop, and lingering there as you obeyed his wordless command.

“Good girl…” he praised, tone deepening as you whined quietly, the sound morphing into a loud moan as he lazily flicked his tongue over your slit once…twice…and a third time.

“More…” you pant in the midst of moaning, head craning to the side while your back arched and the urge to scream built in your chest as Alastor obliged your request with vigorous intent. He hummed melodically as your taste seeped onto his tongue, walls ever so sensitive as he explored them tirelessly, and a smirk playing on his lips as you writhed in pleasure.

Your face was soon flushed completely, eyes watering as they rolled slightly with each pass of his tongue over your cunt, and your small hands returning to tug at his soft brown hair. Another coil spiraled in your stomach hearing him groan in response, seeming to enjoy how roughly you pulled his hair, and his gaze drifting up for a split second to get a good view of your satiated state.

Seven hells….she looks even lovelier like this…

Alastor unconsciously drags you closer to his face, not caring at all when you lock your legs around his head and cry out from the borderline bruising hold he has on you now. “Oh god!…” you yelp, throwing him a bewildered glance before tossing your head back as he lapped at your clit like he’d starve to death without it, and the relentless attention to your bundle of nerves was the last thing you could comprehend before the knot unwinded itself.

Your vision blurred over, everything starting to spin as your cum gushed into his mouth, and the tears you were fighting to hide slid freely down your face as he downed every single drop your body offered.

It was all too much, the hunger in his eyes, his hold on you, and your high that never seemed to subside even as he broke away from your cunt with a satisfied smile on his face.

It was all too much at once….

Your head buzzed with euphoric afterthoughts, incoherency daring to cloud your senses entirely, but the sound of Alastor’s voice near your ear successfully halted the sensations long enough for you to comprehend what he was saying.

“You taste divine, ma chère…” his musing flusters you, a light shade of pink coating your cheeks as he dips his head to steal a kiss from you, “Al…” you sigh into his mouth, biting back a keen smile, and wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him near.

He chuckles hearing the unsteady tremor in your tone, adding onto his compliment after capturing your parted lips in another deep kiss, “I presume you’ll feel just as wonderful with me inside you, sweetheart…”

His assumption proved true. So much so that the moment his cock passed through your slippery folds a heavy groan of your name was the first and only thing he could manage to say. “Y/n….mon amor…” Alastor held you underneath him, not daring to move without completely relishing in the way your cunt wrapped around him first, and your broken moans dizzying the last bit of self control he was clinging onto.

You tried not to seem overwhelmed, with your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands cupping his face to keep him as close as possible while your body adjusted to his size. With furrowed brows and a soft smile you praised your husbands well endowed length as he finally drew his hips back, leaving nothing but the head his cock resting in you.

“You…feel…s’good….” You whisper, breathless as he slams back in, swallowing your pleased cries with one tender kiss after the next. He tasted like you, hints of bourbon lingering on his tongue from the drink he’d poured himself before leaving the station, but your essence more prominent than ever.

All that he was, all that he did, and would ever do revolved around you.

His darling wife…

His one and only….

It showed through the sweet phrases he muttered against your lips as he took his time to please you, pace slow and deliberate, but the execution precise and cutthroat.

You weren’t sure when you’d raised your voice, crying out louder as he abused your sweetest spot continuously, and only going silent when a inaudible scream begged to leap from your chest while his cock bullied into cervix. Stars collected in your vision, hands clawing at Alastor’s back as you tried to hang onto reality for dear life, but failing miserably when he sped up his thrusts.

A subtle laugh passed his lips, eyes glinting with greedy lust as your head flew back, exposing all the love bites he’d left on your delicate skin, and the sight caused his cock to twitch inside you.

“F-fuck….Al!” Your eyes watered once more, sliding shut as a familiar pressure built in your core, rapidly gaining density the longer Alastor fucked into you.

He groaned at the sound of you shouting his name in such a twisted mix of ecstasy and anguish. Your soft voice becoming tainted with an edge he’d never imagined it could have. “Close already, my dear?..” he teased you, smile as smug as ever as he stood up straight, hands gripping either side of your hips, and his gaze lowering to where you two connected.

“Look…at…that…” he mused, suddenly slowing his thrusts to a painfully harsh pace, fixated on the way your cunt continuously creamed on his length. Alastor bit his tongue to keep from growling at the view, barely registering your whines and pleads for him to go faster.

“Al…Alastor…please..m’ begging you…please…” you felt your thighs shake as he continued his lazy strokes, clearly wanting to drag the ordeal out for his personal entertainment, and his lack of sympathy for your plight in that moment edged you even closer to cumming.

He knew it too…

That infamous grin on his face as he watched you resort to quiet sobs and desperate moans was a sure sign of the fact…

Alastor knew you needed him, loved him, lived for him..

“Please what, mon chere?” He bit his lip, unhooking your legs from around his waist to push them to your chest, giving his cock a new angle to stretch your cunt with.

You felt like passing out then, all strength evaporating from your body as he reached places inside you that surely didn’t exist before. His taunting didn’t make your dazed state any better, “Please, ruin you? Please, love you?… Let me hear you loud and clear, darling..”

Before you could register the words they flew from you mouth in a hushed flurry of need.

“Please…love me…fuck me like you love me…use me…I don’t care anymore…”

Alastor immediately rewarded your answer, wasting no time as his hips snapped into yours feverishly, flooding the kitchen with the sound of skin against skin.

“Lovely…” he cooed, voice thick with tension as he stared down at your overstimulated form, and within seconds of the praise slipping off his tongue you came undone. He followed shortly after, not caring to ask where you wanted his release, and you made no protest as the warm white liquid spilled inside you.

All you could do was stare, mouth falling open as he fucked his cum deeper, “It’s high time you became a mother, mon chere. You’d like that wouldn’t you?..” Alastor rambled, hardly coherent as his high coursed through him, but his statement crystal clear to you.

“Yes…” you whimper in response, walls clenching his cock as the thought of carrying his child sprung into your mind. “I’d love it…Al.”

His heart nearly stops as a genuine closed eye smile graces your face, a light blush painting your cheeks as he kisses them gently while gingerly slipping his softened cock out of your leaking heat. Alastor then lets your legs fall, lifting you to sit up straight on the counter again before wrapping his arms around your waist.

You hang onto him for balance, feeling entirely small in his grasp, and finding comfort in the embrace as exhaustion trickles in.

Alastor breathed in your sweet scent, beginning to pull your robe back on your tired form before reaching for his dress shirt. He was careful not to stir you away from his chest as he shrugged the clothing back on

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…” he nonchalantly mumbles, kissing the top of your head, and chuckling when your tied eyes go wide with undeniable hope.

“More than anything?…”

“Anything, my dear…” he repeats himself with a soft smile, bringing a hand up to push fallen strands of hair from your face.

That was when it occurred to you…

Alastor Hartiflet could love…

He’d always been able to….

And he loved you enough to share it with another…

How surreal….

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

This entire 1st part was brought to you by the Great Gatsby movie soundtrack…❤️ you’re welcome… ;)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Actually it MIGHT BE 12 inches if we are being honest… ❤️ credits to creator.

[reminiscingtonight]

Imaginary (Girl)Friend

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

[WOSO Masterlist]

You never talk about Leah. 

She’s your best friend, your better half, the first person you think to tell anything to. But you still never talk about Leah. 

You don’t talk about the fact that the two of you grew up together. Or that she prefers the crust cut off her plain ham sandwiches. Or how she stays up late just to call you even after playing a late night game away from home. 

You never talk about Leah because no one knew who she was. To you, she’s the most amazing person you know, the only person you’ll ever give your heart to. To everyone else, she’s simply another nameless face on another football team. 

And then the Euros happened.

The Euros happened, England won, and everyone started noticing Leah.

It’s hard at first. To watch your normally shy girlfriend have to shoulder the constant attention from both fans and media alike, to go from unknown to stopped every five seconds for a picture. Where Leah once held your hand while strolling on Sunday walks now became group outlettings lest you manage to secure an indoor date somewhere secluded.

Leah didn’t want you being dragged to national attention with her, and after watching the toll it took on her, you meekly agreed. While Leah became a professional footballer, you went to college, got a job, and now work a normal 9 to 5. Being famous for any reason, let alone dating someone famous, was something you never had an interest in.

So no, you don’t talk about Leah the footballer.

Leah the girlfriend however… you talk about her quite too much. 

But your friends always let you gush your heart out about the girl who’s had your heart since you were teenagers.

It’s friends like these that you treasure. They never push too hard, understanding when you skirt around bringing your girlfriend out to public events with large crowds. A couple of them are newer to the group, friends from work, but still respectful all the same.

Some of you even formed a recreational futsal team, just something to do after work once a week. It’s fun, getting to use some of those football skills you’ve acquired through your childhood playing on youth teams. 

Today’s one of those days. After wrapping up the last of your paperwork, you all pile into a car and make your way to the community center. 

The first half goes by quickly, not really memorable in any way.  

You’re taking a quick water break during half-time when one of your friends suddenly stiffens. 

“Holy shit.”

You look up to see her eyes widen at a spot over your shoulder. 

“What?” you ask, alarmed, trying to see what she’s looking at. But two hands on your shoulder stops you quickly, jerking you right back to face her.

“Don’t look, but I think a couple of the Lionesses are sitting in the bleachers, watching our game.”

You almost trip ripping yourself out of her grip, doing the exact opposite of what she just said.

Sure enough, you can spot the Three Best Friends huddled near the back of the bleachers, baseball caps and hoodies on as if that combo would actually help someone go incognito.

Almost as if she can feel your gaze, Leah’s face brightens, resting scowl turning into a grin as she waves at you. Before you can so much as react, a hand on your arm spins you back around.

“Oh my god, what are we going to do? I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the Leah Williamson, Keira Walsh, and Georgia Stanway!”

You snort, gently shaking her hands off. “First off, it’s just rec futsal. If we lose it’s nothing that life ending. Also, we can always blame it on the court if we play poorly.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but the whistle from the ref calls before you can convince her some more. 

Taking your spot on the court again, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy. With the constant attention and numerous commitments clogging up your girlfriend’s schedule, it’s been a while since Leah’s come to one of your games. 

And so what if you end up showing off a little bit? Your girlfriend is here watching and you’re only human.

By the time the game ends, your team is up by six, four scored by you.

“God damn, we should try to invite the Lionesses out every week if you’re going to ball out like that when they’re here,” Riley jokingly complains, laughing when you shove her back playfully.

“Speaking of the Lionesses…”

Spinning around you see your girlfriend and her friends starting their descent down to the court. You skip to meet them halfway, ignoring the awestruck looks coming from all around. 

Leah gives you a quick hug before pulling back, mindful of prying eyes. 

“Leah! What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to surprise my girl,” she mumbles, cheeks burning bright red as she instinctively pulls her cap down tighter on her head. “That’s okay right? I just haven’t seen you play live in a while and I--”

“Of course it’s fine.” Your cheeks are starting to hurt a bit by how wide you’re smiling.

You turn quickly to her two friends by her side. 

“Happy to see you guys too! Thanks for coming out.”

Georgia and Keira exchange devilish grins before each throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

“We would’ve come out to a match sooner if lovergirl over here hadn’t gatekeeped when your games were.”

Keira nods dramatically. “It was like pulling teeth with this one, trying to convince her to let us tag along today. You’d almost think she wanted us to forget she had a girlfriend.”

Leah rolls her eyes at the accusations. “A). I wasn’t gatekeeping. B). It was like pulling teeth today --- you wouldn’t give me a moment of peace until I agreed. And C). If I wanted you to forget I had a girlfriend, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

“Pshh, as if you could make us forget our favorite Milton Keynes native. We’d choose her in the divorce,” Georgia quips, ignoring the eyebrow Leah raises her way.

Before the three of them can get in a shoving match, you suddenly remember your friends that you’ve left behind.

“Wait, let me introduce you guys to my teammates.”

Your friends look shell-shocked, eyes darting between you and the little posse of professional footballers you’ve amassed around you when you return. 

“Guys, this is my girlfriend Leah and her two friends.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Then a whispered, “why are you introducing three Lionesses to us as if you have dinner together on the regular?” Riley honestly looks like she’s about to pass out, but you decide to humor her a bit.

“Because I do? Keira and G come down sometimes during breaks, and I do live with Leah. So…” 

Your explanation seems pretty straightforward to you, but if anything, it only makes things more confusing for your friends.  

They exchange looks with each other before Riley cautiously asks, “You were being serious about that?”

It’s your turn to be confused, face scrunching up. “What do you mean?”

“Well you kept talking about your mysterious girlfriend Leah without ever introducing us to her…”

“Or showing us a picture,” another voice adds on, trying to be helpful.

“We just kinda assumed Leah wasn’t real,” Riley finishes off lamely.

You roll your eyes, elbowing your girlfriend when you feel Leah snort next to you.

She recovers quickly, giving your friends a smile. “Well rest assured, the girlfriend is very much real. It’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Leah.”

[mustangbby]

HIIII I JUST READ YOUR BOOTHILL IDEA ABOUT PREGNANCY AND I AM WELL FED 😭 i love how angsty it is. oh boy i'm sure struggles a lot during his s/o's pregnancy. like...it has lots of cry and self-conflict because he may thinking that he isn't helping his s/o. there gonna be small arguments and misunderstandings. it's hard for the both of them and the baby. 🥹

ohhhh yes. yup. decided to take a real angsty route with this one. I added some mentions of his actual backstory here, bc my og one was written before his backstory was released lols

Boothill definitely cries during your whole entire pregnancy. He also has a lot of bad thoughts about himself during it, too. 

At first, he tries to hide it, and either subtly cry, or just simply wait until you’re no longer in the room or the house. He doesn’t want you to know that he’s not happy because of the state he’s in. 

He used to be human, he used to be flesh, and most importantly, he once had a daughter of his own, and that's what crushes him the most. He fears so much that he’s almost going to replace her, even though he knows deep down in his heart that it most definitely wouldn’t be able to happen. 

He also feels so bad about not being able to do normal human things for your during your pregnancy :(((( he knows how much you want to be able to be soft and intimate, to take baths and be able to have a cozy massage and just a cozy person around in general, and he’s the exact opposite of that. He doesn’t even think he deserves the husband title anymore.

He literally once asked you why you’re still with him and not someone else. You explained that you loved him and you wanted to be with him, and even then he never really expressed the way he felt about himself to you but you could sort of see it in his eyes. He didn’t like the way he was and the fact that he can’t be what he refers to as a “proper dad” to his kid. 

He knows it’s hard on you, too, and he also knows that you’re catching onto his harsh thoughts, and you’re catching on fast. It caused an argument a few times, on how you’re hurt that he’s not expressing his emotions, he doesn’t want to, it turns into a “do you not trust me or something?” conflict on your end, and a “I just don’t know what to say without hurting you” conflict on his end. Misunderstanding that likely won’t just dissipate. 

There was one argument that you both had when you were nearing pretty close to your due date, and he decided he was going to walk out midway through and not come back for about a week. For some reason, he chose a petty route, leaving you anxious and super betrayed, considering he refused to answer his phone, too.

The argument was over something that seemed incredibly stupid, if you both must say so yourselves. He was, once again, insecure, and he wouldn’t tell you why. That was what bothered you- did he not trust you enough? Did he seriously not want to be a part of this baby's life? Why else would he just walk out?

To say it made you super anxious, scared, and lonely was an understatement. You were left with the thought that you’d have to give birth alone, and go back to your original game plan that you already mentally set up. You thought he genuinely left you.

That was, until he walked back into the house on a random afternoon that next week. He ran up to you and apologized, allowing you to cry it out in his steel arms. He felt so horrible, and he vowed to you to never, ever do that again.

He tries to start letting you in on his troubles from that point on, but there still seems to him like there's a barrier blocking his words from coming out. Sometimes, he just blames it on his synesthesia beacon, which seems to work for now. 

He also lets you see him cry more often, but that stops when you give birth. He doesn’t need you to be more overwhelmed than you already will end up being.

[thatlittlered]

would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

 How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comforter and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

next part

[midnightfiction143]

ilyt

kinich x g!n reader, established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, sfw, slight ooc kinich cus I'm still getting used to his character, not proofread as usual

a/n: well this is something.. stayed up til 2 to write what was supposed to be a quick one-shot that I would edit in the morning hahah. mostly testing the waters to see if people prefer hcs or fics. also I kinda wanna change the font so it's not boring but I'm a bit lazy.. enjoy ig?

“and don’t even deny it, i can see the look in your face when you’re weighing your ”cost” of a decision. god, you have it on your face right now!” you exclaimed, narrowing your eyes at him.

it was true - even at the very moment, in the middle of an argument, kinich’s face was scrunched up, eyebrows furrowing as he weighed the consequences if he argued back with you.

kinich sighed. “y/n. let’s not do this now, please. i’m tired and you’re tired - we should do this when we both have a clear head.”

you suppressed a groan of anger and stared at him accusingly, eyes spilling with annoyance. “no, i want to do this now. i’m sick and tired of running away from this conversation that you keep pushing back! do not blame this on just me being tired!”

kinich’s fist curled up in irritation. he was trying really hard to not lash out at you - nothing good would come out from that except for both of you getting hurt. his restraint was like a rope slowly fraying in the middle, waiting to be broken at any time.

instead, he placed his gaze on the floor so he wouldn’t have to see your face at the moment, and gritted his teeth. “y/n, you’re angry but it’s not-”

“stop stalling, for god’s sake! did you even hear me when i sa-”

the rope snapped.

he looked up at you with a piercing glare that radiated fury. startled, you cut off midway through your sentence, jaw still hanging wide open. a wave of nervousness quickly washed over you. kinich had never stared at you like this before, ever. you were too used to the small, affectionate gazes when he saw you smile or do something silly. no, this couldn’t be kinich. he wouldn’t st-

“no, y/n, I have been listening. if you don’t like that, then just leave.” he hissed.

you tried to tell him, despite the rising, underlying fear of your own boyfriend. “no, wait, but-”

if your throat didn’t close up at that exact moment, you wouldn’t have heard the words muttered under his breath as he stared back down at the floor again.

“i wish you’d just go already. you’ve been an nuisance from the start anyway.”

you froze. you could already feel the hot tears pricking at your face near the start of the argument, but now they spilled out, ruining your makeup and you had to bite your lip to refrain yourself from sobbing in front of him right then and there.

where did this come from? what happened to your loving and subtly caring boyfriend, kinich? you felt guilty now, you wanted to say sorry that you shouted out at him and started this whol- no, that’s what he wants you to do. then he wins.

so you swallowed down your apologies and forced your head downwards, not daring to meet his gaze. “fine.” you barely choked out, and clenched your fists as you stormed off to your (unfortunately) shared bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the door creaked open slowly, and you could feel him shuffling in before gently closing it again.

“..hey.”

you were curled up on the bed, hugging your knees, and kinich could tell you had been crying. he moved over to just behind you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder.

“y/n.. i’m sorry for all the things I said. I didn’t mean them.. it was- I was just frustrated in the moment, and.. I definitely shouldn’t have said the last part, i’m sorry. i’m.. not so good with words, but know that i’m speaking the truth when I say you mean a lot to me. i’m so lucky to have you in my life. I want you to know that I love you.”

there was silence after that. kinich paused, worried he said the wrong thing.

“i’m here for you, if you need me.”

the dam holding in all your tears broke.

you turned around, tears welling in your eyes, and flung your arms around him. kinich, although a little startled by the abruptness, wrapped his arms around your body warmly. you sniffed, blinking out tears as you pressed against him. “i love you too, kinich. it’s not all your fault - I shouldn’t have bursted out at you. you were right, I was tired, but I didn’t want to admit it just because of my pride.”

kinich rested his hand on your back, patting it softly. “it’s okay..”

you looked up at him, and he almost wanted to laugh. the contrast between his face and yours with tears staining, red eyes and nose and messy hair was.. kind of adorable. you spotted the small curve upwards on his lips and smacked him lightly. “stop it, i was tryna have a serious moment for once!”

you could feel him smiling as he pressed his lips gently against yours. “yeah, yeah, love you too.”

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 YOU AND ME (ALWAYS FOREVER)!

FEATURING: dark era!dazai osamu

SUMMARY: more than friends, not quite lovers. that's been your relationship with dazai osamu for as long as you can remember. you didn't want to push him, and you gave him plenty of chances, but there's only so long you can wait for someone. you thought you would be better off moving on—you were wrong, of course. (wordcount: 4.8k; sfw; angst (???) but with a happy ending)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: dark era dazai </3 my heart, i got a sudden urge to write for him and i wanted it to be fluff but then i got this idea and just had to go with it (warnings: fem!reader, smoking & drinking, suicide attempt mentions)

In your defense, you were never dating Dazai Osamu.

Not for a lack of trying on your part, of course. You’ve made your interest in him clear since you met him at sixteen during the Dragon’s Head Conflict, when Mori Ougai pulled you back from where you were stationed in Kyoto dealing with his associates to help with the declining situation in Yokohama. And you’d thought he felt similarly to you. You really did. The two of you had become inseparable within weeks of knowing each other, such a swift and strong connection that it almost felt unreal. You’d heard rumors of him, of course, before coming back to Yokohama—the infamous Demon Prodigy that Mori had brought in and groomed into becoming his heir, ruthless and cold and so terrifyingly intelligent that he had the entire upper echelon of the Port Mafia on edge. 

By the time you got back to Yokohama, he’d already had a heavy reputation following him, dark shadows clinging to him like a second skin. Demon Prodigy. Black Wraith. So many monikers attached to him, but he never really felt like the monster that everyone claimed him to be.

He and Nakahara Chuuya had been the one sent to retrieve you from Yokohama Station, an area very close to the heart of the gang conflict, and even from the first meeting, he’d always been… well, you’re not going to say normal because he’s not normal. He’s always had an unnerving air about him, eyes a bit too cold and dark, smile a bit too teethy, but he’s always come across as just another kid your age. Maybe a bit lonelier than most, which could be off-putting to other people, but it never bothered you. And yes, you’ve seen the way other members of the Mafia treat him—they’re scared of him, go to extreme lengths so as to not cross paths with him, but you’ve never seen him in the same light they do.

Well, not until recently, at least. 

Again. In your defense, you were never dating him. 

But you’d known he cared about you as more than a friend. And you’d cared about him as more than a friend too. And you waited. You waited almost two years for him to say something. You didn’t want to do it yourself, you know Dazai is flighty and he’s not used to emotions, and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but god, there’s only so much waiting you can take before you start to give up.

When the two year mark hit, you’d become convinced that Dazai was never going to act on his feelings for you; instead, he’d prefer to wait it out until they passed, and if they never did, he’d just pretend they didn’t exist at all. You can’t really blame him, the Mafia is not a place conducive for relationships, it’s only a matter of time before your luck runs out and one of you end up dead by a bullet through the head or captured by the enemy, and the thought of getting attached to someone only to lose them is enough to scare anyone away. 

But you don’t want to live your life in fear, no matter how short it may be, and you also don’t want to live it alone. So when an opportunity arose at a cafe near the main headquarters, where you met a civilian around your age who showed immediate interest in you, you jumped on it. And it’d caught a lot of people off guard—Kouyou was surprised, Chuuya was baffled and questioning what a civilian could possibly have that interested you, even Mori gave you a double take and an odd look the first time he overheard Elise interrogating you about your new boyfriend.

But no one took it as poorly as Dazai.

Your throat feels tight as you remember the hurt expression that crossed over his face when you told him. It was so brief and so foreign of an expression to see on his face that you’d thought you’d imagined it, he was quick to school his expression back into a cold and closed-off one (one that he’d never directed toward you before that moment), but there was no mistaking the way the corner of his lip twitched and the way he suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes. 

How nice, he’d told you, voice frighteningly icy, acidic, even, before he made a half-assed excuse about a mission that you knew he wasn’t assigned to. And it was so unlike him to offer himself up to handle missions, usually Mori has to force him with threats of giving Chuuya his executive position for him to do anything that makes him extend the barest amount of effort . But he did, and he handled it, very bloodily and uncharacteristically inefficient, as if he was releasing all of his pent up rage onto the unfortunate souls who happened to stumble into Port Mafia territory.

You were never, at any point, dating Dazai Osamu. 

You think you’ve told yourself it hundreds of times over the past three months, throwing yourself into your work and enjoying a relationship with a boy who clearly was invested in you and cares about you in a way that Dazai Osamu would never allow himself to admit. You also think that Dazai Osamu has no right being as bitter and angry as he is—you gave him two years to come to terms with his feelings and make a move, you’ve made your own subtle hints that he promptly ignored. If he wanted to be with you, he blew his chance a hundredfold, and he can go screw off if he thinks he can be upset about it only after you’d found someone else. 

Which is what he did, pretty much, and it was a lot harder than you expected—going from talking to him every waking second of every day, seeking him out whenever you have free time and vice versa, to only seeing him during the joint meetings between the executives and sub executives, where even then, he wouldn’t even spare you a glance. It was hard, and deep down, you don’t think being able to experience an actual relationship was worth losing your best friend, but the damage had already been done by that point, so you could only lie in the bed you made. 

And you did enjoy the relationship. The boy you’d met was sweet. He was good. He was impressively smart—a government and law major at one of the most prestigious universities in this part of the country—and humble to a fault. 

But he wasn’t Dazai. 

You knew in your heart that you didn’t want sweet or good, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You didn’t want the type of smart that he was, top of his class and on track for law school, seeking out a job as a public defender in Tokyo. You wanted the type of smart Dazai was, wicked and devious, putting together vicious and efficient strategies to take down enemies of the Mafia, on track for taking over the position as boss in the future. You wanted him for all of his twisted moralities and questionable thoughts.

And it was unfair to you, and it was unfair to Dazai, and most importantly it was unfair to the boy you kept leading on, that you’ve refused to acknowledge this for as long as you have just for the chance of experiencing a real relationship. 

Which is why you stand here now, outside the infamous Bar Lupin that you know Dazai has been drinking himself into oblivion at everyday for the past three months, notably single and possibly about to meet your end at the hands of a drunken and scorned Mafia executive. 

You think you must look like a fool right now. You’ve been standing right outside the door in the rain for fifteen minutes debating on whether or not you should actually go in. You’re nervous, and that makes you sad because you’ve never been nervous to talk to Dazai before, and you’re not nervous because you’re scared of him, you’re nervous because you don’t think you have the balls to actually confront him, knowing that you’d genuinely hurt the boy that everyone claimed didn’t have the emotions to be hurt. He let you in when he doesn’t let anyone in, and you chose to be careless and you chose to give up, and you hurt him. 

And you remind yourself again: you were not dating Dazai Osamu. You remind yourself that you gave him chances, he had opportunities, and he chose not to take them. You remind yourself that he’s just as at fault as you are for the falling out, but you can’t help but also remind yourself that he was the one that came out the most hurt by the situation. Yes, him cutting himself off from you was upsetting, but you didn’t have to watch him go around happy in a relationship with someone else. He did. 

With that thought in mind, you push the door open to the bar. A soft bell rings above you and instantly, three heads swivel in your direction: the bartender, and two men that you recognize as Sakaguchi Ango, one of the Port Mafia’s special intelligence agents, and Oda Sakunosuke, who you only know through Dazai’s high praise of the man from when the two of you were still on speaking terms. The only person in the room who matters to you doesn’t even bother to look to see who entered the bar, one hand circling the glass of whiskey in front of him while a cigarette dangles from the other. You watch as he lifts it to his lips to take a long drag, head falling tilting back to look up at the ceiling as he exhales a cloud of smoke, seemingly unbothered by your presence.

Already, you feel as if you’ve made a mistake, but you force yourself to continue.

The bartender nods his head in respect to you, although you can’t help but notice he flashes a wary look to Dazai. You wonder, pitifully, how much he’s said about you in this place. Sakaguchi and Oda share a look with one another. Both of them speak a low murmur of your name, inclining their head dutifully—you’re not quite an executive yet, but with the Piano Man of the Flags dead, you and Chuuya are fighting for the next spot to open up. Chuuya will likely be the one to get it, which you think he deserves from all of the heavy lifting he’s done on operations the past two years, but you feel a bit awkward when they give you your due respect when you're here with your tail between your legs trying to talk to Dazai.

Sakaguchi and Oda take their leave when you arrive, giving short goodbyes to Dazai, telling them that they’ll see him another day, and the bartender makes a fumbled excuse about going to the back to restock, leaving you alone with Dazai. Internally, you wither just a bit because you think if they’d stayed, Dazai might keep a handle on himself because you know he views Oda highly; instead, they left you in the lion’s den alone. Which you might deserve, but you digress.

You let out a quiet puff of air as you make your way over to the bar stool next to Dazai, taking a seat in it carefully. Still, he doesn’t look at you, but you look at him and the aching in your chest returns tenfold as your gaze sweeps over him fully for the first time in months. During the joint meetings between the executives and sub-executives, you were always sure to keep your glances short and sweet, not wanting to risk any lingering looks, but now, you can look at him in his entirety for the first time since that fateful discussion three months ago. 

He hasn’t changed much. Or, well, that’s a lie. He’s definitely changed. The circles beneath his eye are darker, his expression a carefully constructed blank mask. You think he might’ve lost some weight, his coat has always been big on him but the way it hangs over his shoulders now is looser than it was before. If it weren’t for the way his fingers were tense around his glass of whiskey, you’d have thought he was entirely unperturbed by your arrival.

You don’t know what to say, and you know you need to be the first to speak because you’re the one that showed up here to talk to him, but now that you’re sitting in front of him you’re floundering for words. You could just come out and say that you broke up with your boyfriend, but you feel like that would be a bit weird, and he’d probably laugh in your face and make a comment about how he doesn’t care. You could ask him how he’s been, but you think he might genuinely put a bullet in you for trying to make small talk with him like that right now. 

The longer you stay silent, the more awkward it becomes, and you want to cry because you’ve never been awkward with Dazai before, and for a brief second, you wonder if things really have changed too much to go back to how they were. 

Finally, you decide to just come out and say, bracing yourself for the inevitable derisive words that are going to leave his lips. “I broke up with him.”

Dazai’s scoff is loud and instantaneous, you bite your tongue, eyes sliding shut as you turn to face ahead instead of looking at him. Cowardly, you know, but you don’t want to see the sneer on his face when he asks you why he should care. 

But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything at first. If you were looking at him, you’d see the way his cold expression shifted into a more conflicted one, still staring ahead because he can’t bring himself to look at you. You count each passing second, and it’s agonizing waiting for him to speak, a part of you thinks that maybe he won’t, and you’ll just have to leave the bar with your tail between your legs, humiliated. 

But then he does. 

“Why?” he finally asks coolly, and your eyes snap open and your gaze slides over to him when you realize he did not, in fact, hit you with the derogation you expected.

He still isn’t looking at you, and you watch as he lifts his free hand back to his lips, taking another long drag of his cigarette as he waits for your response. You swallow thickly when you try to figure out what to say next. 

What you want to say is ‘because he wasn’t you,’ but you’re not ready to bare yourself vulnerable in front of him like that when he’s still so unpredictable. Just because he didn’t immediately hit you with the harsh words you expected, doesn’t mean he isn’t going to lure you in just to slap you in the face with it, which is how you’re sure he perceived what you did three months ago. 

Rather, you say quietly: “He was boring, I guess.”

It’s a lie. Well, a partial lie, at least. He was a good guy, he was just boring compared to what you wanted, and what you wanted was Dazai Osamu, who no one in the world could hope to compare to. 

“He was boring,” Dazai echoes your words, a cruel and mocking lilt to his voice, and you brace yourself now, taking the sudden switch in tone as the flicking off of the safety. But he shakes his head as he lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it’s another scoff or a laugh. “How cold-hearted of you. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given your track record.”

Two paths lay before you: you can take the words as well-deserved, trying to avoid the inevitable fight, or you can spit back equally venomous words, dive in headfirst so the two of you can get everything off of your chest. Both choices are double-edged. If you avoid the fight, it means avoiding the topic altogether, and even if the two of you choose to speak again, the resentment of what had happened will only poison and fester. If you dive into the fight, there’s a chance of saying words you can’t take back, and everything might fall apart anyway.

What do you want? You want to ask him, because you aren’t sure what the right decision is. Three months ago, if you and Dazai got into a disagreement about something, you would know in an instant whether or not he wanted to fight it out to let off steam or just pretend it didn’t happen. Now, you aren’t so sure. He’s still not looking at you, so you can’t use the look in his eye as a hint, but his shoulders are tense beneath his jacket, and his knuckles are white around his glass of whiskey. Your gaze drags up to his face, catching the way his jaw is tight, teeth probably grinding together, and you know. 

You look ahead again, leveling your vision on a particularly nice bottle of wine on the third shelf of the wine rack as you say: “I’d rather be cold-hearted than a coward.”

For the first time since you’ve arrived, Dazai’s gaze cuts in your direction, head snapping to the side. You turn your head toward him just enough for you to eye him from the corner of your eye, catching glimpse of the way his lip curled up into a snarl and the way flames now rage in the browns of his eye—a far cry from the bottomless void, but you prefer the anger to the emptiness. 

“A coward?” His voice is low, cold, dangerous. 

You’re treading on thin ice, but you choose to stoke the flame more, gaze sliding back to the wine racks ahead.

“A coward.”

The silence that hangs between the two of you is tense and damning, you have to force yourself not to react to it, keeping your expression as stony as his as you wait for his response. He’ll either hit you back with more venom or he’ll settle down, one will lead to a blow out fight and the other will lead to a very tense conversation. 

You don’t want to fight him, but if that’s what he wants, you’ll give it to him. 

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai makes another scornful noise but he doesn’t say anything, gaze snapping back ahead as he takes a drag of his cigarette, this one clearly fueled by anger, far more aggressive than the last one. As if to piss him off even more, he hardly gets half of a smoke, down to the nub already. Frustrated, he puts the lingering cinders out on the bartop before reaching for the pack in his pocket, pulling out a new cigarette and his lighter.

You watch as he tries to flick the lighter on, cigarette dangling between his lips, but the old thing refuses to cooperate. Distantly, you wonder why Dazai is so damn stubborn: working with an old lighter, living in a shitty shipping container, wearing the same few pairs of clothes every day when he probably has more money than god hoarded from his executive paycheck. But you only force yourself to not roll your eyes as you pull out your own lighter, flicking it on and holding it out to him without looking at him. 

You watch from the corner of your eye as he stares at your hand suspiciously before he exhales from the side of his mouth, dipping his head down to light the cigarette before he faces ahead again. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches out for his glass of whiskey, still mostly full, and then he slides it over to you.

An offering. A white flag. 

You barely withhold the breath of relief that nearly escapes you, accepting the drink and taking a long sip of it. It’s his favorite brand, smooth and familiar on the tongue; you haven’t been able to bring yourself to drink it since your falling out with him. 

“Was it really because he was boring?” Dazai finally asks. He’s not looking at you again, but you can see from the way his fingers are tense against the bartop that he’s probably waiting for a certain response from you.

You let your eyes slide shut. “No,” you admit.

“Then why?” he presses, as if he doesn’t already know. 

“You know why,” you say tightly, shaking your head and looking down.

“Tell me anyway,” Dazai responds quietly, you can feel his gaze on you but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Irrationally, even though the atmosphere between the two of you has shifted, you wonder if this is it: he’s going to get you to admit it and then laugh in your face, cruel but probably deserved. 

“Because he wasn’t you,” you finally force out.

He doesn’t respond. Your heart sinks to your stomach, a sick feeling churning. You brace yourself again—you don’t know what for, maybe a laugh or a derisive comment, but he does nothing of the sort. 

A long exhale, smoke billowing around his face, a heavy look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at you as he says: “You’re right.”

You don’t respond because you’re not sure what he’s referring to. Finally, he tilts his head to look at you, a wry smile on his lips—your chest feels warm at the sight, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him smile. Probably not since the falling out. 

“I was a coward.”

Oh.

The frustration you felt all of those months ago returns with a vengeance. You had danced with possibilities back then: that you were reading too much into things, that he didn’t actually care for you the way you did for him, that he simply did not want to be with you even if he did care about you that way. Now, faced with confirmation that he had felt the same but was just too pussy to act on it, your chest swells with that familiar anger. You force it away. 

“Why?” you ask after a few moments of silence, nails digging into the palm of your hands as you rest them on your lap. “I… I waited for two years, Dazai. I gave you so many openings. You knew how I felt.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet, barely audible. 

“Then why?” you repeat his words back to him, pressing hard just like he did. His throat bobs beneath his bandages as he swallows, averting his gaze, or trying to, at least, because you don’t let him. You reach out to grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look at you, and the pads of your fingers burn against his skin, hyper aware of the fact that this is the first time you’ve touched him in three months. “Why?”

His hand comes up to grab your wrist as if to pull your hand off of him, but he doesn’t, grip firm around your wrist, fingers pressing against your pulse point, and you’re acutely conscious of the fact that your pulse is probably racing but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“I told you why,” he says, voice uncharacteristically soft. Vulnerable in a way that you’ve never seen him before. “I was a coward. I… didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship... I don't have many friends. You know that. I would’ve rather just ignored how I felt and kept you as a friend, because I didn’t think there’d be a chance of losing you that way. I thought if I acted on how I felt, one day you’d eventually see me for what I am and I’d lose you altogether.”

“Some good that did you.” You can’t help the resentful words that spill from your lips, but you feel guilty when he winces, hand dropping back to your lap, his grip slipping from your wrist. “You think I don’t already see you for who you are? We’ve known each other since we were sixteen, Dazai. I know all of the sick and twisted thoughts that run through your head, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

Dazai shakes his head, as if to deny your words. You get frustrated.

“I spend hours at your recovery bed after your attempts, I’ve caught you in the middle of them myself, do you know what the first thing I did was after I told you I had a boyfriend?” you demand, and he stares at you, unsure. “I put a protection detail on him because I thought you’d try to have him killed, or try to kill him yourself.”

Dazai winces. You shake your head and look away, settling down again. 

“For someone so smart, you really are so goddamn stupid sometimes,” you sigh, taking a long swig of his drink before placing the glass back down on the table. “I saw you for who you are, and I wanted you anyway.”

“Wanted?” Dazai asks, an uncertain expression on his face as he zeroes in on the past tense.

“Want,” you correct, voice little over a breath, and something akin to relief sweeps across his face as his gaze drops down to the bartop.

The silence that hangs between the two of you is more comfortable this time. Reassuring, even, because maybe things might still be awkward between the two of you for a while, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, one much brighter than the one the two of you lived in three months ago. 

“I can’t believe you went for a civilian,” Dazai suddenly says, almost sounding indignant. “A civilian. You!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you snap when you hear the incredulous tone he takes when he says ‘you’.

“You’re a stone cold bitch,” Dazai accuses and you gape, but you can’t find it in yourself to be offended because his eyes are lit up for the first time in months, a lopsided smile painted on his face. “And you’ve got as much blood on your hands as I do. You. A civilian. I think I would’ve been less offended if you went for Chuuya.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” you snort, and then you add, a bit amused, “you know what he wants a job as?” 

“Tell me,” Dazai drawls, resting his chin on his hand as he leans on the bar, watching you with such a fond expression that it makes you feel warm all over. 

God, you missed him the past three months. 

“He wanted to go to law school. Become a public defender.”

Dazai chokes over the smoke he inhales, and you press your hand to your lips to smother your giggles as he desperately wheezes between laughs. You’re not sure if he’s actually choking, you think he might actually be dying from how red his face is getting.

“Maybe you should keep in contact with him then,” he gasps between laughs, “we might need one of those one day.”

“As if you’re sloppy enough to ever get caught,” you say dryly.

He winks at you, his grin sharpening, and you know you’re not going to like what he’s about to say. “Oh, I’m not. By ‘we’, I meant you.”

“Douchebag.” You roll your eyes, letting another silence settle over the two of you, a smile on your lips now as you take another sip of your drink. He’s the one to break it again.

“... Odasaku convinced me not to, by the way.”

“What?” 

“To kill him. I was going to. Odasaku convinced me not to.”

You let out a sigh of utter suffering, giving Dazai a pointed look—see, you say silently, I know you. He has the decency to look a bit sheepish as lifts his cigarette back to his mouth in lieu of responding to your unspoken words. 

“Stop with the self sabotage, Dazai,” you finally say, tired. “For both of our sakes’.”

He doesn’t respond, and you know him well enough to know that he’ll probably never stop with the self sabotage, but he does reach out to lace your fingers with his, and the warm feeling that spreads through your chest is enough to satiate you. 

Little steps, because no, the Mafia is not a conducive place for relationships and yes, it’s only a matter of time before luck runs out for one of you, but if your life is destined to be short, there’s only one person you want to spend it with.

[allywthsr]

FOLLOW THE WHITE RABBIT | (l.norris)

summary: Lando and you talk about the cheating rumors, you find out the truth and you solve things between each other. Part two to Reckless

wordcount: 5.4k words

pairing: landonorris x singer!femreader

warnings: panic attack, crying (let me know if I missed anything)

notes: the love part one got, made my heart throb. Thank you!!!! I hope you like whatever I wrote there, also the first time I used text messages and tweets, tell me what you think about them!! I used follow the white rabbit by Madison Beer for this part! I deleted some lyrics, hope you don’t mind.

You were not ready for Lando to come home. Not ready at all.

You didn’t know who you should believe, him or the pictures that were posted all over the internet. Of course you wanted to believe him, you‘ve been in a relationship with him for over five years now, he never gave you a reason to doubt him. But the picture literally had proof on them, showing him in the act of kissing this woman. And we‘re not talking a smooch we’re talking full on make out session in the middle of the club. His excuse better be good or you would leave, and if he started to blame the alcohol you would be fuming. Alcohol is not an excuse to kiss other people, even when you‘re drunk you need to think of your significant other.

Normally Lando wasn’t even planing to come home, the plan was that he flew straight to Belgium for the next race weekend and you would join him there, but now you weren’t sure if you wanted to go and see him race, even if things cleared between you two. But you weren’t sure if they would, even when there was an explanation for it, he still kissed this girl and met up with her multiple times in Monaco. And there‘s no denying it, there were pictures that clearly showed him with her.

You wanted things fixed with him, you loved him with your whole heart, he was your person. What are you gonna do if things didn’t work out? Move back to your home country? Stay in Monaco? Move somewhere you‘ve never lived before? You had absolutely no clue.

The wait felt like days, you walked around your apartment, cleaning here and there, trying to calm your nerves. You settled in the living room waiting for Lando to arrive. After three and a half hours you finally heard the door unlock, now your heartbeat fastened, you had the feeling that your heart was going to jump out of your chest, and you thought that you were going to faint. Too scared that things won’t work out and you‘ve spent the last five and a half years with Lando for nothing. You wanted to marry him, you wanted to have children with him, you wanted to build your forever home, you wanted to get a dog, and you couldn’t imagine all these things with someone else. You did not think you could ever love someone as much as you loved him.

”Y/N?“, you froze. Nope, you wanted to leave, this was too much for you. You couldn’t talk with him, look him in the eye or be in his presence.

You didn’t answer him, you wanted to but when you tried to speak, nothing came out.

”Y/N, are you there?“, he asked again. Tears started to form in your eyes, you were fucking scared. And before anything else happened you started to feel a panic attack coming, something you‘ve been familiar with but especially in the last hours had constantly. You started shaking and crying silently, breathing way too fast and not being able to help yourself getting out of it, you curled into a little ball, hugging your knees while putting your head on them while you rocked back and forth.

So when you heard footsteps nearing, you panicked even more. By now you were shaking uncontrollably and your sobs got louder and louder, you felt like fainting with the little air you only got. Lightheaded you looked up and saw Lando standing in the middle of the living room.

”Y/N what the fuck, are you okay?“, you just shook your head and before you could take another breath he was next to you on the couch, taking you in his arms and squeezing you tight. The tears were just falling down your face and Lando thought about calling an ambulance. He had experienced you having a panic attack quite often, he even had some himself when he first got to formula one and the pressure became too much but he‘d never seen an attack being that bad. He just hoped his presence would calm you down, as it normally would but after the articles, he wasn’t that sure anymore.

”Hey Y/N, breathe Baby, you need to breathe. Do it like me“, he started to slowly breathe in with his nose loudly and held it in for a few seconds and then blew the air out of his mouth. You really did try to breathe like him, but your sobs interrupted you before you could breathe in. He held you tighter in hopes that he could stop your shaking but it only got worse.

”Is it better if I not touch you? I don’t want that you get worse only because I hug you“, but you just clawed your hands in his arm that was wrapped around your front and shook your head slightly.

”No? You want me to hug you?“, you squeezed his arm tighter and started to lean in his body a little.

”Okay, Baby you need to breathe or I need to call a doctor, this is not healthy and I can’t get you out of this headspace. You‘ll be fine, listen okay? Breath like me.“

You slowly took a breath in and before you could hold it, you let out a sob and another.

”I can’t breathe “, you pressed out of your lungs while trying to get some air.

”I know baby, but you need to come back to me, it‘ll all be fine. We are fine, okay? I love you so much but you need to come back to me love“, you tried so hard to breath normal but the panic attack was stronger and the sobs spilled out of your mouth again.

”I feel like I’m going to faint Lando.“

Now he started to panic, he really has never seen it that bad before, he needed to call a doctor, he couldn’t help you alone.

Then Lando got an idea, he wanted to use a technique you showed him and he never got the chance to try it out but now was the perfect timing.

”Baby I know, let’s do the senses thing you showed me okay?“, you just nodded while shaking.

” What are five things you can see?“

You lift your head from your knees and looked around.

”Y-You, the tab-table“, you took a shaky breath.

”It’s okay baby, take your time and breath.“

”The couch, the plan-plant, the lamp.“

”Good job angel, breath. Now what are four things you can touch?“

”Y-Y-You“, you were interrupted by a sob, ”The couch, my phone, the table.“

”Yes baby, now take a deep breath“, you looked into his eyes and repeated the breathing he did.

”Good, three things you can hear?“

You looked back through the room, focusing on what you can hear at the moment, allowing your brain to calm down.

”Your voice, the neighbors drilling something in the wall and my phone pinging with messages.“

”Exactly“, he pressed a kiss on the side of your head, ”two things you can smell?“

”You and the room perfume I sprayed this morning.“

”Good job love“, he noticed how you were much calmer than he started, barely letting out a sob and only a little shaky.

”And what is one thing you can taste?“

You chuckled, ”You.“

He let out a quiet laugh, ”Yes baby. Breathe okay? Do it with me.“

You turned your face back to his face and after he took a deep breath through his nose, you repeated after him.

”Hold it.“

You nodded and together you hold the air for about five seconds, and after that, you both let the air out through the mouth. He repeated that three more times and after that, you were back to your old self.

”Welcome back love, do you need anything? Water or do you want to lie down? Sleep for an hour?“

You shook your head and answered him with a: ”I need you.“ He whispered an ’Okay‘ and placed his head on yours, enjoying the embrace you guys were still in. After what felt like hours of sitting there, it was probably only ten minutes, he slowly let go of you, and you whined when he did that.

”I‘m gonna get some water and then we can talk, yeah?“

You nodded and let out a breath, too scared to fall back into a panic attack, you weren’t ready for what was coming.

When he came back with two glasses of water and placed them on the little coffee table and sat on the couch across from you, he began.

”So it looks bad, but it’s not like everyone says it happened. Yes, I kissed her, well, she kissed me. But only for two seconds and maybe it looks like a full make out but I swear it was only for like three seconds. She pulled my head down and wrapped my hands around her waist and before I could react she kissed me, but I immediately pushed her away. My brain needed a second to register what was happening because I was in such a shaken state, and that’s where they took a picture.“

”But you hung out with her in Monaco, and she was in Hungary when you were racing.“

”Yes I-“, he didn’t know what to say, it wasn’t like he was searching for an excuse but more like the right words, ”I met up with her because she‘s actually the sister of a friend, and he asked me to pick her up because he couldn’t and didn’t want her to walk. I‘ve met her a few times at his‘ and yeah that’s basically it.“

”You literally went with her on a walk after I asked you to go with me to the docks for some fresh air!“, you argued, now getting frustrated.

”Yes and I have no excuse for that. I did go for a walk with her, but I don’t know what to tell you. She wanted us to be friends and friends hang out, so she asked me to meet her at the city.“

”So you ditched me, your girlfriend, for some chick and did not tell me about it? You could literally have asked me to go with you and we could‘ve met up with her.“

”I know and it’s stupid, but I guess I was overwhelmed with the race weekend coming up and so I didn’t thi-“

”No! You do not get to blame this on your job. This is you being a bitch.“

He chuckled, ”I was, but believe me, I never had any intention to do anything with her.“

”But she did!“

”Well, I know that now.“

”And what about my release party? This album is literally about you and you didn’t come? Do you even have an idea how embarrassed I was? Your family was there and they didn’t catch a glimpse of you the whole time they were in Monaco. I stood there all alone talking about how happy you made me and when people asked me about you, I had to tell them you were at the MTC. Everyone thought you were the biggest jerk for leaving when I had an important day. I travel around the world for you, I move meetings, and recording sessions just so I can join you for a race. I asked you to come for one day, one fucking day and you didn’t show. I even put the release date like that, so it wouldn’t be on a race week, so you could attend and my ass wouldn’t be alone. But I was alone, in this room full of people I love, I was alone because you weren’t there. I came home early and you weren’t even home and when I checked your location you were somewhere in Monaco. You could‘ve texted, you could‘ve called, yet - nothing. I thought you had some huge thing planned as a surprise for me but you didn’t even apologize. You just came home late and didn’t even think about me. I cried in our bed and you came in, changed your clothes and fell asleep immediately. Just the next day you said ’Oh I‘m sorry I didn’t come‘ and went on with your day? I literally cried on my release day, but not happy tears, that’s just fucking sad dude. This might not be a big deal to you, but releasing an album isn’t something you do every weekend.“, you started to pick at your sweatpants trying to distract your tears from falling down your cheeks. All the emotions came back from that day.

”I‘m so sorry I made you feel that way. I wanted to come I promise, I even bought that huge bouquet of your favorite flowers but then she called me and“, you let out a scoff, of course she called him, ”told me she her car broke down in the middle of nowhere and I was the only one she could reach. I had to help her and it took way longer than I expected, the tow truck took two hours to find our location, so when we finished and I drove her home because her car was in some repair shop, she invited me into her flat and we just had a soda relaxing from all the stress and I forgot to go to the party. I just remembered when I found the flowers in the trunk of my car the next morning, but they were all dead because they didn’t get any water all night long. This is not an excuse, I just want you to know what happened. And nothing will change the fact that I missed one of the most important nights of this year, but I am truly sorry. If I could go back and do it differently, I would immediately but I can’t. And I have no clue how to make it up to you, I could buy you another handbag or whatever but nothing could make it better. I still feel like an idiot, if that helps?“

”Not really, I am still super mad at you, you have no idea.“

”And you have every right to be. But I am really so fucking sorry, I never wanted to make you feel this way.“

”But how did she end up in Hungary?“

”I invited her“, your head turned to his at a speed of light, ”What?!“, you screamed at him.

”This girl is literally flirting with you, trying to get you away from me every second of the day and you invite her to your race? No wonder she kissed you. She must’ve thought this was you telling her it’s something serious.“

”What? Y/N, no, you’re delusional.“

”Lando, I know how girls work, especially the bad ones. You might be my first relationship but my friends have told me about them.“

”But that’s not why I wanted her to come. She asked me if she could ever come to a race because she’s never been. And we had a spare ticket because you didn’t come so I asked her.“

”That’s bullshit, she obviously wanted something from you and you didn’t see it.“

”Well, I‘m sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you. I messed up and I‘m a horrible boyfriend but I can’t change things now. I just know that I never wanted anything from her, I invited her because I thought she was a friend and I helped her with her car because she was a friend. If I had known her intention, I would’ve never even picked her up in the first place.“

”You‘re not a horrible boyfriend. But over the last three weeks, you weren’t a good one either. I felt so alone in this country I never wanted to move to in the first place. Yes, it’s beautiful and all but doesn’t feel like home, I miss my friends so badly, but they‘re all in the UK. And I don’t want to blame you for this because this decision was made by both of us but you told me, you would never leave me alone for long. Because I have barely anyone here. Yes, the girlfriends of your friends but I can live without them as well. I almost booked a flight two weeks ago to go home, because if I’m alone here I can go home alone. This city will never be my forever home, I hope you didn’t forget this.“

”I am sorry Y/N. And of course, I didn’t forget about you not being a hundred percent happy with Monaco, if you want we can start looking at lots to build on in England. Building a house is not something you do in a week, so if you want we start looking for them. I will not leave you alone from now on, I promise.“

”But how are we gonna come back from this?“

”What do you mean?“

”Lando, I can’t just go back to what it was like before it all started. I love you so much, but you also hurt me. And I’m still fucking sad over the things you did, even if you didn’t cheat.“

”I love you too, but you believe me, right? I never wanted anything from her, trust me.“

”I guess, the wounds are still fresh, so I need you to give me time. I need time to heal and get over it.“

”Of course Baby, take all the time you need. I just don’t want us to break up over someone stupid. She‘s not worth any of your tears. She‘s just this stupid bitch, and I know that now.“

”I don’t want us to break up over this as well but I need the time and I will fly home as soon as I can. I don’t want to go to Spa with you, I need time apart to calm down. That doesn’t mean I want a break or anything just some time for myself.“

”Are you sure that’s something you want?“

”No, I need this. I am not happy here and I don’t want to be in the paddock right now, I need some family and friends time and especially time for myself.“

He nodded and stood up. Now he was the one with the glossy eyes and pouting lip.

”Lando, why are you crying?“

You stood up and walked to hug him.

”I am just so sorry Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you and now you need time away from me. Which is fine but I am so fucking sorry“, he let out a quiet sob and the first tear spilled out of his left eye. You hugged him even tighter and now his arms slang around your body to return the hug. His head found its way to your neck and let it rest there, crying quietly. You let him cry everything out and even spilled some tears of your own. This was not a breakup, but you needed time apart. You knew how Lando was, he would do everything to express how sorry he was. Getting you gifts, flowers and whatnot just to suppress his feelings. But you didn’t want that, you wanted him to understand why you were sad and needed to go home, and by buying you gifts he wouldn’t understand.

After holding him in your arms for good five minutes he started to talk again: ”Did you write a song already?“, he slowly lifted his head from your shoulder and looked with his red eyes into yours. You chuckled, ”Yes I did, it’s called Reckless, but I don’t know if I‘ll release it, I mean you didn’t cheat in the end.“

”You should, to show the world what kind of asshole I am.“

”Baby, you’re not an asshole, I love you so much. Never see yourself as anything bad, you just hurt me, yes, but we hurt people all the damn time. But we solved it, just because I need to go home for a week or two doesn’t mean I hate you. You just need to realize what you did wrong and heal yourself. I don’t want you to think bad of yourself, you did some questionable things, but it’s not like you actually cheated. Okay? You‘re my person, my love, my baby and nothing can separate me from you.“

He just nodded. He needed some time for himself, you both knew that you both needed time to come back even stronger. So you went and packed all the things you needed for a week at home and booked a ticket for the next flight.

”When are you coming back home from Spa?“, you asked Lando, you wanted to book a flight to Monaco already, so you had no choice but to come back home to Lando.

”On Monday evening, then we planned to go on vacation on Wednesday, but I don’t know if you still want to come?“

”Of course, I‘ll come with you on our yearly family holiday, are you mad? Spending weeks on a yacht with only sunshine and you and your family is like a dream. I miss my Mila and I need my Mila cuddles. I‘ll fly back home to Monaco on Tuesday morning so I‘ll be back by Lunch time and we have enough time to pack.“

You looked at him, the way he sat on the bed, looking like he‘d lost the fight of his life, his arms were crossed before his chest, his legs were moving the whole time, too nervous to actually settle and his head was leaned against the headboard of the bed.

”Hey Lando, calm down, it’s only a week, you need to fly to Spa tomorrow anyway. Concentrate on your race, I‘ll be watching and supporting you from home“, you sat next to his leg and patted it.

”We‘re okay Lando. I forgive you, don’t worry. I just need a few days for myself and after I come back, we‘ll be just like before everything happened. So get your shit together and smile for me.“

He gave you a big smile, satisfied with it, you gave him a quick peck on his lips and stood up to gather the rest of your things. When you packed the rest of your toiletries in your bag, closing it with the zipper you let out a sigh and asked yourself if you really wanted to do this. You looked in the mirror and you knew the answer if you looked at yourself. You had bags under your eyes, they didn’t sparkle like they used to and your skin wasn’t rosy anymore. These three weeks took a toll on your whole being, you didn’t smile as much, and you for sure didn’t feel any happiness. But you were sure that after the week away from Monaco, you and Lando would come back stronger and everything would be okay again.

So when you stood with your luggage at the front door, Lando leaned to the wall next to it. You guys didn’t talk and just enjoyed the silence, both lost in your thoughts. When your phone got a notification, your Uber arrived and was ready to pick you up and take you to the airport. You wanted to now do it on your own and almost argued with Lando because you didn’t want him to take you. The week away starts now and he needed to accept that. He did something wrong, even if it wasn’t really his fault but he still met up with her and she was able to kiss him.

”I should go, my Uber is here.“

Lando just nodded and his head sunk, the first tear escaping his eye.

”Baby, please don’t cry. I‘ll see you in a week, you need to focus on your race, I don’t want you crashing just because I‘m home. You can text and call me whenever, it’s not like I‘m dead, I might not react immediately, because I want to do a little phone detox and maybe record some songs but if there’s an emergency, you have my parents' numbers and my siblings. My best friends as well, just focus and get another podium yeah? I‘ll be cheering you on from home.“

”I‘m sorry Y/N. I need you.“

”You have me, always. But just give me a week, let me calm down, and then we‘ll be back to our old selves. We will get over this and we‘ll be fine.“

He nodded and looked at you, his red watery eyes made you feel guilty, but now you needed to think about yourself. So you grabbed the handle of your luggage, put your free hand on his cheek, pressed your lips to his for a kiss, and stepped through the door.

”I love you, Lando, keep me updated.“

”I love you too Y/N. Please be careful.“

”Always.“

So when he closed the door behind you, one tear fell down your cheek but you wanted this and now it’s too late to go back. Your Uber drove you to the airport and you grabbed a mask, sunglasses and pulled your hood up, hoping that no one will notice you or at least recognize you. You loved meeting Lando’s fans but you just wanted to listen to your music while you waited for your flight to board. But luck wasn’t on your side today, while you waited for your flight to board, you saw multiple photographers taking pictures of you and you pulled your hood more into your face hoping they wouldn’t catch a glimpse of your face. You still cried a lot earlier and you did not look like your best self right now.

After your plane finally boarded and left the airport, you took a deep breath. Ready to relax at home with your family.

f1gossip

22,827 likes

Y/N was seen in the Airport! We don’t know where she is going but she clearly does not wanna be recognized. People that waited in line with her said, that she cried the whole time while waiting. Is our favorite couple now actually over? We have no confirmation, but we‘ll update you, when we know something

two days later

/////////////////////////////

You smiled when you left the plane, you had missed Lando terribly over the last week. That showed you how you guys were meant to be.

Your new song ’Reckless’ was a banger, everybody loved it, little did they know you already wrote a new one.

Lando told you, that he would wait for you in the entrance hall and drive you back home.

So when you got your luggage and went to the entrance hall you searched for the familiar face. But you just spotted a huge bouquet of flowers and behind them, was his beautiful grinning face. So you run the last meters to him and embracing him in a tight hug, hearing the sounds of cameras clicking, you didn’t care, you needed to feel him close to you. So when you broke the hug and looked into each other's eyes, you kissed. Just a quick one, you didn’t want to have a make-out session on the internet.

”I am so happy to be back“, you whispered in his ear.

”You have no idea how much I missed you. Let’s go home, I wanna show how much I missed you.“

f1gossip

25.729 likes

Lando and Y/N at the airport! Y/N arrived back in town a week after leaving, Lando waited with a huge bouquet for her and they shared this bone crashing hug after seeing the other. So is our otp back again? We hope that they‘re happy!

y/nusername added to their story!

Boy, I heard my name's on the tip of your tongue

You knew how badly Lando wanted to call you every day when you were in your home country. He texted you every morning that he wished you were next to him. Reporters tried not to ask Lando about the rumors but it was almost impossible. He just wanted to scream in everybody’s face that you guys were good and didn’t break up.

And I'm empty too, if that is what you want

But the truth is, you weren’t better. Your mum wanted you to leave asap, the crying of how much you missed him became unbearable for your family.

And I looked into your eyes and you're the one

When you FaceTimed and saw him, you knew he was the one. He was your love, your person, your everything.

That I wanted, baby, that I wanted, baby, that I wanted

You wanted him so bad, no, you needed him. You needed him because without him you couldn’t really function.

It's a haunting, baby, that I'm wanting

Baby, that I'm wanting, wanting you

Haunting, baby, that I'm wanting, baby, that I'm wanting

It scared you how much you wanted him. You sat late at night on your childhood bed and thought about the first time you brought Lando here. Everybody loved him and accepted him into the family. You needed him and it was scary.

And I lose my mind tonight over you

Thinking back to the time, you started fuming. How the press played such a big role in the whole thing, they made you believe things that weren’t even true.

Devil in a dress, I'ma love you like I do

You still loved him, even when all the ugly articles and rumors started to come up, you still loved him.

Follow the white rabbit to see the truth

You talked with Lando and he showed you what really happened. With all the stupid rumors, you believed him. The articles were a way to distract you, to show you the wrong way, to believe the wrong people but in the end, you saw the truth.

And my patience is now setting like the sun

When Lando arrived back on Monday, you had a panic attack but you were also impatient. Wanting to hear what he had to say, what really happened, whether it would be good or not.

When my tears fall on your lap, we've just begun

You don’t remember the attack you had, but Lando later told you how you cried in his arms while he tried to calm you down. It was the beginning of the conversation, what a great start. Not.

And by now, I know the damage has been done

The time will never be able to be reversed. Nothing can and will ever repair the scars you got from this. He still hung out with a girl while you sat lonely in your shared flat. It happened and you can’t do anything to undo it.

That I wanted, baby, that I wanted, baby, that I wanted

It's a haunting, baby, that I'm wanting

Baby, that I'm wanting, wanting you

Haunting, baby, that I'm wanting, baby, that I'm wanting

Lando told you, that he was scared of how much he missed and wanted you to come home. You laughed about it, feeling the exact same. It was scary how your minds were connected and felt the same as the other one was feeling.

Follow the white rabbit to see the truth

You were glad how things worked out. That showed you how strong your relationship is, that even after this scandal, you still found your way back to each other. It also showed you how important talking with each other was. Talking is key and you are glad you are in a relationship where you talk about things.

———————————————————————————

taglist: @mrsmaybank13

[barleyo]

Hii! Merry Christmas<3 Can I request some nsfw for sir nighteye please? He works late and doesn’t get home until really late at night and the reader is kinda sad because they’re lonely without him. Ty :))

All I Want For Christmas.

Sir Nighteye x F! Reader (smut)

A/N: As you can probably tell, I got the request last year during Christmas. Shame on me for taking so long, I truly apologize. You can beat me up if you wish, anon, I wouldn't blame you </3 (also if you noticed re-used writing of mine from other fics in this... mind your business)

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags: Nighteye's real name used, smut, p, handjobs, oral (f receiving), established relationship

The holidays were always hard. Mirai was dedicated to his job, being Sir Nighteye and all, even as the winter months approached. He never forgot about them, per se, but he never made much room for them. He tried to get off of work earlier when he met you, making sure that he would at least see you before you went to bed every night. A call, a text, anything. He did his best, but no matter how hard he tried, work was his driving force in life.

You tried to not let it bother you, you knew the hardships that came with being with a pro hero. You kept that thought in your head as you stood near the oven, bending down to shove your last batch of cookies in. 

You had been baking the whole day in preparation for Christmas. Hoping that Mirai would join you, you had an apron sitting on the dining room table for him, but that hope had faded out at around 9:30 P.M. when you realized it would be another late night of work for him. Your hands trembled a bit, the heat of the pans seeping through your old, worn oven mitts as you transferred a hot tray to your makeshift cookie decoration station.

You slapped icing on the warm cookies, blowing on them as the sweet frosting melted off of the tops. Your table had become cluttered and messy, with icing, sprinkles, flour, and crumbs dusting the tablecloth. 

“Damn it,” you mumbled, slipping your thumb into your mouth after catching a scoop of icing on it. You took a whole cookie, hands fidgeting at its warmth as you struggled to hold it, and took a bite, trying to enjoy yourself as much as you could, despite your husband's absence.

“They look nice.”

“Hmph?" You spun around quickly, hand wiping quickly at the crumbs on your lips. Your eyes relaxed when you noticed the familiar green tufts of hair and golden eyes before you. “Yeah, I’ve been making them all day.” She held back from adding 'no thanks to you' at the end of her sentence.

“Do you need any help? I don’t have to go into the office tomorrow. I can help out for as long as you need me to tonight.” Mirai offered his hand out to you, but let it fall down to his side when you coldly turned away from him.

“Most of the work is done already, I don’t think I need your help.” You winced at her own words, feeling the venom they were laced with. “I think you should just head to bed. I can handle this."

His stoney face didn’t budge, he clearly wasn’t satisfied with your answer. “I’m sure you can, but I’d like to help you. I enjoy spending time with you, doing things that you enjoy.” Rolling up his sleeves, he began clearing the table of the cookie cutters and mixing bowls, placing them softly in the sink. “I will wash those later, do not worry.” 

You ignored his words and tried to urge him away again. “Aren’t you tired from work? I really think you should go to sleep. Working for so long just to come home and do more work can't be healthy.”

“Is that what this is about then? Me working so long?”

“No, it’s not. And there is no ‘this,’ nothing is going on,” you scoffed, dripping more red icing onto a stray cookie.

There was silence for a moment before you felt arms wrap around your waist, firm but gentle. You placed the icing bag down on the table and tried to look, but your neck couldn’t crane far enough to see him. He slouched down, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I have been neglecting you, haven’t I?”

“Mirai, no, it’s not like that, I know your job is Important. I can’t imagine how hard it is to be a hero, but I just wish…” your voice fizzled out a bit when his large hands started to travel up and down your body, stopping at your chest momentarily.

“That I’d make more time for you? I hear you, dear. I’m not being fair, am I? Here you are, doing all of this alone, and during the holidays. Leaving you alone at a time like this isn’t considerate. Leaving you alone at all isn’t right on my part.”

He licked a stripe over your neck, sucking on the spot softly. His teeth edged the skin, leaving a small purple mark on it. After examining it once more, he let go of you and spun your body around to face him.

“I know you’ve missed me,” Mirai said softly, “I’ve missed you too. Being with you, feeling you, all of it. Can I show you how much I’ve missed you?” 

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Please.”

He used his long, thin fingers to untie the knot at the back of your apron, shooting it down to the floor. He made quick work of your pants too, leaving only your shirt on.

Before he touched you, you quickly made your move and unbuckled his belt, slipping his cock out swiftly.

Giving a few, testing strokes, you held as much of his cock that she could manage in your fist. You went fast, tip to base, knowing he would want to stop to please you instead. He shuttered a bit, hips threatening to snap into your hand. 

“You spoil me," he said softly into your ear, jaw tensing with each stroke, "but right now is not about me. I want to apologize to you, to make you feel good. Let me.” 

You didn't let go, instead you focused on the head of his cock, rolling it in your hands. “Not until you cum. I've waited too long for this."

Mirai took a breath through his nose and huffed at you. "Fine." 

He stopped holding his composure and let himself sink into the pleasure that your hand provided. He could cum quite quick if he let himself go, but his tense nature let him last quite a while in other circumstances. 

His breathing went ragged and sharp. He brought his hips back and forth, fucking into your hand desperately. He pulled your hand off of his dick before he could cum, not honoring your little agreement.

"Hey, you promised," you whined, frustration crossing your face while you looked up at him.

"I know. I am such a liar, aren't I?" His breathy laugh fanned your face, and the small smile he flashed was enough to erase any anger you had in that moment.

He placed his hand gently on your face, tipping your head to look up at him.  "Do you want my mouth, or do you want me to fuck you?"

"Your mouth." You felt his hands manhandle you upwards, placing your body on the table behind you.

"Good. I always like when you choose that option."

His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding small circles around your clit. 

"Stop moving," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound. Your legs kept pressing together, as if you were trying to push him away. He slipped one hand between your thighs and forcefully held them apart. 

His large tongue slid through your wet folds, slowly teasing through, from your entrance to her pulsing clit. He stopped at your clit again and clasped his lips around it, sucking on the tender bud. He let  dribbles of spit fall from his mouth onto your cunt, only slurp it back up again to keep you wet and messy.

Not hesitating, you reached your hand down and gripped his hair, holding him in place, and rolled your hips onto his face. 

He didn't mind, simply letting a soft laugh escape his lips. It was cute, the way you took what you wanted from him. 

Your legs stuttered as you moved, twitching while moans caught in your throat. Your hands still pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose nudging your clit sent you over the edge. A sweet wave crashed over you, making you practically vibrate with pleasure.

After your grip on his hair loosened, your husband stood up and looked down at you, eyes peeking past his fogged up glasses.

"So, do you think you can forgive me now?" 

You rolled your eyes at the smirk that played on his lips and shook your head. Rolling over, you pushed your ass up against the tent in his boxers. 

"Not yet."

[kaihuntrr]

A bunch of Scott designs I did for warmups <3 using my personal head canons for each one! Explanations for their looks and ‘names’ down below!

Life Series: Scott!

I love all of them so much,, I wanted to keep their outfits and general vibes simple, they’re all pretty but also some practicality in their wardrobes as they are in some type of survival game ehe.

3rd Life: Poppy

Self explanatory name, this version of Scott is the sweetest and the most disconnected from the survival games. He only wanted to live with his husband in their little paradise in forms of flower valleys and endless wheat fields, completely isolated from the war. His outfit is of a gardener, overalls and a sunhat with his and Jimmy’s favorite flower; poppies. He grew out his hair and ties it, not wanting it to be in the way of his work. He is overly protective of his husband, wanting to keep him safe and away from danger for as much as he possibly can. A widow’s rage is something else.

I imagine 3rd Life designs to be more humanoid, so Scott here is an elf! This soul of his moved on to Empires, where he spends the rest of his days with his husband in sweet bliss.

Last Life: Star

Earned the name after being victorious in the game of betrayal. A guiding star to others, he keeps the titular mark on his forehead for the remainder of his time in the Life Series due to being a winner, a reminder of him losing his final life to a lightning bolt. He is the most cunning, using his wits and trust to be a strong ally. He lived in the center of all the chaos with his partner, his best friend Pearl, using little moths to communicate to each other. With sheltered forests and a cottage as their ‘home’, he has deer-like features and antlers to boot. Perhaps this was an attempt to recreate a copy of Poppy, as he has some memories of ‘his’ previous life. He dresses in a neat dress shirt and vest, matching with his best friend and fitting the aesthetic of their pretty house in the woods. Just don’t touch the wall, please.

I wanted to use yellows for this design, as he starts off with two lives! Plus, the contrast looks so good <3 this soul is the host of future life seasons, having full clarity of this life when he goes into future events. Once a series is over, all precious memories will wash over him and the star will hover over his head. This is his ‘real’ form, his ‘winning’ soul.

Double Life: Venus

Named after the brightest ‘star’ next to the moon, he feels isolated. He felt something familiar as he was brought into this life, but he never expected to be connected to Pearl. He shouldn’t blame her, but he doesn’t deal well with being alone. Somehow, he still has a brief memory of Poppy’s as he feels.. something when Jimmy’s soulbound isn’t with him. He loves being with Cleo, his chosen soulmate, and being Pearl’s soulbound meant he could feel her frustration and loneliness. Should he have been there for her? Likely. He couldn’t bare seeing her face again. He couldn’t bare losing her again. Not again. Maybe it was better this way, they’re both hurting. He hopes this is better.

I used green as he was green in his iconic and heartbreaking moment of splitting off with Pearl and Martyn to join up with Cleo, and also I can remember him being mostly green until Pearl ups and ruins that- he’s a ram, his horns shifting to ram horns to solidify his stubborn nature to reconnect, and a general ranch aesthetic given he and Cleo made a whole soulmate ranch thing. The hair over his eyes are to hide his teary eyes, still missing and hurting over his soulmate.

Limited Life: Coral

A fitting name for the person who established the Coral Isles. The cottage was in the middle of it all, so he wanted his life to be away from all the drama, just by the side of the map near the ocean to relax. Unfortunately, things just won’t stop coming for him. Be it being the boogeyman first, allying with someone who you swore was supposed to kill you, and more memories of your past life you don’t understand coming back to haunt you, it’s a little too much. He can’t help but be flirty with Martyn though, the man definitely bites back. He finds his partner’s overprotective-ness rather adorable, and he’d do anything for him back, even give him time.

Fish!! Drastically different than my AU design, which is good- used his red skin as he did wonderfully as a red name and whenever I think of Limited Life I’d always think of Red Scott, which I adore <3 he does have long hair, can’t not have his long hair for him!

Until series five comes out, these are my thoughts and ideas for Life Series Scott! I’d love to write out possible interaction ideas but I’m afraid this post might be too long LMAO- a good break from Sea Prince content, but I absolutely adore the life series and the pseudo-story I have for this guy in particular. Who knows, you might see fullbodies of them in the future? :D no promises!

[all-pacas]

I finished nobody’s fault & chase and I couldn’t understand why chase wouldn’t forgive house. Like obviously he’s traumatised and couldn’t walk but it feels like I’m just missing sth crucial. Chase did reason it with his doubts…but I don’t know if he honestly believed them. Any thoughts?

In a lot of very interesting ways, Nobody's Fault/Chase reads to me like a pretty direct continuation of Teamwork. Of S6. Cameron leaves the show talking about how House is poison, how he ruins people and ruined Chase specifically: House is reckless, House makes people act like him, House has ruined Chase's life. And… it's unfair, but it's not entirely wrong. Chase has become a worse person over the years. He has become a lonelier and more bitter person.

Nobody's Fault makes it fairly clear that legally, the stabbing was not House's fault. Chase fucked up, Adams fucked up, everyone made mistakes. House wasn't really even involved, but at the same time, none of it would have happened if not for House. This is Cameron's "poison" speech come back around: House spends years encouraging recklessness and results and defiance, and eventually it's going to backfire and hurt someone. House never told Chase to murder Dibala, but House taught Chase to act and not care about laws or consequences.

HOUSE: She blames me for Dibala's murder, not you. CHASE: You were barely involved in that case. She knows that. HOUSE: But I created the big, bad, evil climate that allowed it to happen. (teamwork)

CAMERON: You did kill Dibala. By playing God and teaching us to do the same. HOUSE: I taught you to think for yourselves. (teamwork)

COFIELD: You brazenly defied your boss. Now that happened either because Dr. House has established that that's okay in his world, or his prank war distracted you, or House makes medicine a game, and you just wanted to beat him. Whatever the reason, it boils down to the fact that you may never walk again because House created an atmosphere that promotes recklessness. (nobody's fault)

This is actually kind of a theme. We even see shades of it in The Mistake, in House Training, in Wilson urging 13 to work for House because she alone is immune to his influence, in Masters and Cameron leaving entirely: House changes people. Not for the better.

So, does Chase truly blame House for what happened? No. At the end of the day, Chase's loyalty to House did win out, and he defends him pretty strongly to Cofield; in fact, he's also able to point out that House was, despite his appearance, wildly concerned and worried and Chase knew it (let's not forget, Chase has always been very good at reading House). He seems to blame himself (using the same "I would do it again" language as he used in Teamwork). But that doesn't mean he isn't angry at House.

Chase is very similar to Forever, Foreman's reaction to his own near death experience. Foreman almost died, and is putting on an act of being a new person to try and give meaning to the event. Chase does sort of the same thing — except he comes to the opposite conclusion. He almost died, and it seems to have made him realize how completely miserable he is. House isn't to blame for the stabbing. He kind of is for that.

That's kind of a theme with Chase in S8 in particular. He takes a year off and is bored and waiting for House. In a later episode, he wonders why he's still working for House: he's in year seven of a three year fellowship. Foreman is the Dean of Medicine; Cameron is running an ER in Chicago. Chase is exactly where he started. His entire life is working for House. And he kind of hates it. Not House, but… his life, you know? He picked House over his marriage. He picked his fellowship over his very successful surgical career. What has he gotten for it? Divorced, lonely, bitter… stabbed. He's thrown his morals away. He killed a man in cold blood. Is he happy? Probably not.

Chase is unhappy, he feels (somewhat fairly) that his life is not what he wanted, and like Foreman years earlier, he's trying to make changes. He wants out of House's orbit. He's reflecting on what he wants, and his arguments against Moira joining her convent are… pretty telling: She's missing out on getting married. Having kids. Having a successful career. He tells her later he was married once, that he wants a relationship with her. We know these things are true; only two years ago Chase was absolutely convinced he had it with Cameron. But at the same time, he's grasping at straws. He wants to escape, to start over. He blames House for how his life turned out.

CHASE: I need to get away from House and everything that reminds me of him. ADAMS: By breaking the rules, not caring what anyone else thinks. You're gonna get away from him by turning into him? (chase)

CHASE: This has nothing to do with the truth. You don't like that I'm reassessing my life, that I want to change it, that I can. HOUSE: Anyone can screw up a life. I never said that wasn't possible. CHASE: You're incapable of human connection, so you want everyone to be like you. (chase)

And the thing is, Cameron must be rolling in her grave right now, because. This is what she was saying. House ruins people, he poisons them: he has influenced Chase and not for the better. Chase now, finally, agrees. He isn't happy with his life, and he's blaming House the same way Cameron did. He's angry with House and can't forgive House, not because Chase really blames him for the stabbing, but because he's in his words reassessing, he wants to change, he sees House (correctly, mind you) as the symptom of all these changes: it's not fair to blame House — House wasn't sitting and doing this intentionally — but it's inarguable that a decade with House has done this. (And I love how Nobody's Fault underlines just that point. Chase has been here the longest. He has known House the longest.)

But House is right, too. Chase wanting to change is sincere, but it's also a reaction. He is unhappy, but jumping straight to I will live happily ever after with this random lady isn't a solution. And implicitly, Chase agrees: the fact that Chase has spent half the season with very short hair and stubble, then these episodes limping, is not an accident. Nor is the fact that at the end of Chase and going forward, Chase is clean shaven, back to his usual hairstyle, and no longer limping.

I also think their argument at the end of Chase was. Important. House telling him it's okay, even if not in those words. That he isn't an idiot, that he didn't make a mistake or do something wrong (when Chase from his language and unhappiness over the past few years doesn't seem to agree). They've long since left the days where Chase was slavishly seeking House's approval, but that doesn't mean it didn't mean something to finally get it. I think House telling him you didn't do anything wrong was what Chase really needed: not just the words, but hearing it from House, in a moment where Chase is feeling lost and wanting to change and wanting to blame House (for being miserable, for not connecting to others, for being lonely and alone like Chase fears himself)? That mattered.

And we see going forward that Chase actually does change. He becomes close to Park, he stops sleeping around, he leaves PPTH on his own terms, finally (even if it doesn't exactly stick for long). Cameron was right all along that House changed Chase for the worse… but House and Chase seem to realize that doesn't have to stay that way, and that Chase can still change and be happier going forward.

[lukecastellanshandholder]

You do understand that Luke groomed and used teenagers, also asked a teenager if she loved from when she was sixteen and he was 23…

(I only dislike Luke, I don’t completely hate him, but reading your account description made me wonder…)

*sigh* ok, I’m going to try my very best to be nice and explain Luke’s character. (I only say this because I’ve made countless posts about these things already, but you seem new so I’ll explain)

First of all, Luke himself was groomed by Kronos for about 2 whole years before the events of The Lightning Thief took place. Kronos started coming to Luke in his dreams shortly after his quest to retrieve a golden apple from the Garden of Hesperides. Kronos came to Luke with his offer to help him dethrone the gods when he was upset and thinking irrationally because of his (very justified) anger towards Hermes. After this, Kronos continued to haunt Luke’s dreams, making him think that they both had the same goals.

Luke had always wanted a better life for demigods and for their godly parents to treat them better, he never wanted to hurt other demigods (as is plainly said in The Diary of Luke). While Kronos just wanted to gain power over Olympus again and to reshape the world. However, Kronos convinced Luke that he didn’t want to bring harm to demigods and that he could help Luke achieve his goal.

When Luke started to realize that Kronos just wanted power and that he no longer wanted to help Kronos, Kronos tortured him with nightmares. He was verbally and mentally abusive, driving Luke to near insanity until he broke and became Kronos’ perfect little soldier.

“But Luke groomed and used teenagers!” First of all, what do you think that the gods and Chiron do to all of the children at camp Half blood? They use those poor kids to run their errands and fight their wars under the guise of offering protection from monsters in the mortal world. And Camp half blood had been around long before the Titan Army was established.

Secondly, do you think that the gods are such good parents to their children that they didn’t have other kids who would willingly want to dethrone them? Because we have at least 2 examples of demigods who wanted to dethrone the gods for their own reasons. Ethan Nakamura and Alabaster Torrington. Ethan could’ve cared less about putting Kronos in power, he just wanted minor gods and their children to be treated better. Then Alabaster couldn’t have cared less about Luke but did want to see Kronos in power only because he would treat his mother, Hecate, better than Zeus did. So to say that Luke groomed every demigod who joined is completely ignoring the fact that the gods were terrible parents who have wronged so many of their children.

And third, Kronos was the one who wanted that army to fight against the army that Camp Half Blood had been building for years. Kronos was the one with all of the control, because once a demigod joined they were put under a haze. They were under Kronos’s influence and didn’t come out of it until Luke killed Kronos. So to blame Luke for the use of those demigods is also completely ignoring who had the true power in the situation. The gods and the Titans started this feud hundreds of years ago, Luke, Percy and the other demigods were just dragged into it.

Now about the whole Annabeth thing. I’m 100% sure that when Luke asked her if she had loved him, it was meant as in platonic/ familial love. As we see in The Diary of Luke (the only story that we ever see from Luke’s POV) we always see him thinking of Annabeth as nothing but a little sister or even a daughter. The only person that we ever see him show romantic feelings towards is Thalia when they were on the run together before going to camp. Well, except for Kelli, but I feel like that’s a special kind of situation.

“But Percy said-.” Percy is the most unreliable narrator out there, and he was a jealous teenage boy. Of course when Percy has a huge crush on Annabeth and he hears Luke ask Annabeth if she loved him, that Percy is going to think he meant it in a romantic way! He doesn’t have all of the information about practically anything going on! Now I’m not saying anything against Percy, but again he didn’t have all of the information and was just going off of what he thought he knew.

“But Annabeth said in the Heroes of Olympus series that-!” In this situation, Annabeth is also an unreliable narrator. Think about it, if you have or had a crush on someone and they asked you if you ever liked or loved them, aren’t you going to automatically assume that they mean it in the same way as you do? Aren’t you going to assume that they meant in a romantic way and think that they also had a crush on you? And again, I’m not saying anything bad against Annabeth but, the only time we get to hear from Luke’s POV about Annabeth he’s always referring to her as his little sister. So, are we going to believe what Luke says in his own point of view? Or are we going to believe what two people without all of the information think Luke meant?

So yeah, if you were wondering if I like Luke, the answer is yes! He’s one of my absolute favorite characters because his story is so interesting and intriguing to me.

No, I don’t blame Luke for what the gods and Kronos caused. I don’t think that he’s some evil monster like most of the fandom seems to think he is for some reason. Luke is a victim of the gods and Kronos. He was used just like every other demigod and in the end, died a hero.

I hold the actual villains of the story (Kronos and the gods) accountable for their actions instead of just blaming everything on one of their victims.

[forgeofthenine]

This isn’t even what I wanted to write for Rolan but the nonnie yesterday who sent in that heart breaking ask about if you died fed my plot bunnies so this took over my brain until it was done lol.

For my own mental health while writing this, Cal and Lia have been rescued at this point. I don’t think even Karlach could stop a Rolan who thinks he really has lost everyone. -🪻

~~~~~~~

You’d died before. Most adventures had. The first time, most people tend to understandably panic. It’s not a small thing to wrap your head around, that you’d been here and then not for a moment before you were brought back. One scroll (or one spell from your cleric if you have the diamonds to spend.) and you’re back good as new if not a little worse for wear. Eventually, after it happens enough, you start to get used to it. The window of time for a revivification is so small that death never really has the time to settle in your bones, you don’t feel its cold grip seeping into your soul. You start to get reckless, after all, you’ve always been able to come right back should you fall.

But not this time.

Rolan is at the Last Light, sitting at one of the tables near the entrance with a drink in hand watching Cal and Lia argue animatedly over some ridiculous thing or another. He’d thought about stopping them for the sake of preventing a headache later from their shouting but quickly put that thought out of mind when he realized their nonsense was more a show for the children than anything else. So he bit his tongue and stifled a smile, lest the children realize he can be anything more than a grump.

His seat also gives him the best view of the waystone by the bridge. You didn’t always have time to stop by the Inn and chat with him on your way to your nearby camp but if he could at least see you return safely then his heart could rest easy until you spoke next. It was late in the day already, so you and your group should be returning any moment

As if the gods heard him, at that moment the waypoint flared to life and brought your party back. Two, Gale and Karlach split off immediately towards the inn, while Astarion ran at full speed to your camp carrying something in his arms. He looked around for you and felt the dread sink into his chest when you were nowhere to be found and realization began to dawn. That hadn’t been something Astarion was carrying, it was someone.

Gale and Karlach reach him just as he reaches that horrifying conclusion and begins to rise. Each of them putting a hand somewhere on his person, whether to ground him or restrain him he wasn’t sure. The inn begins to quiet at that, everyone around them taking in their drawn and somber expressions as they look at him. Karlach speaks first, softly as though she’s trying to keep him from falling apart. Though by the look on her face she might also be trying to prevent herself from going to pieces. “It’s going to be okay, there’s someone at our camp who can help. But right now the best thing you can do is to stay here, okay?”

Almost immediately, that cold dread that’s filling him is replaced with a white hot rage. How dare they try to hold him back when they’re partially to blame for what happened. When they’re the ones who didn’t do enough to prevent this from happening. Dimly, he recognizes that not a small amount of this anger is misplaced, after all, these same people he was furious with now had at least been there. They’d tried to stop what happened from happening. They’d had to watch as you fell. All the while, he’d been here, warm and comfortable, drinking and laughing like a fool.

And just like that the warmth of his anger leaves him again and he’s once again overtaken by cold fear. He doesn’t even realize he’s sat down again, or that nearly everyone in the inn is looking at their group with a touch of that same fear. You were supposed to be invincible, this great irritating hero that somehow manages to put off the epic deeds you set yourself to. You weren’t supposed to fall.

Karlach is still sitting with him, Gale has gone over to Jaheira to fill her on what happened. He sees her face harden and then she gives a short nod. She commands the Harpers to gather and she gives orders to increase patrols on certain areas. He must have made a face because Karlach’s soft voice breaks through the fog he’s in again to explain, “We ran into needle-blights, three separate groups. Nasty fuckers if you haven’t had the pleasure. A pain to kill, since they’re tough as nails and the damn things explode when they do finally die. We were all a bit too close when the last few went down after Gale’s fireball but…”. He doesn’t need her to finish, he can almost picture what happened. You were no doubt right in the middle of everything and got caught up in the chain reaction. You probably told them to do it too, you and your stupid self sacrificing ways. By the time anyone was able to get near, it would have been far too late.

Karlach and Gale both look abruptly in the same direction, before they walk off, Karlach pulling him with her as she strode away. “Wha-“ he starts to stammer. “It’s all okay now, Withers worked his magic.” Karlach says, a bit less tense and with far less heaviness in her eyes. Before he can ask another question, namely “Who is Withers??”, they’ve activated the waypoint and he’s in your camp with them.

Shadowheart and Halsin are beside you just outside your tent and are working to try and ease the ache of a proper resurrection as best they can. You look up and see him there and try and give a smile but what you manage to give him is small and shaky and makes you look damn near to tears. Your hands are shaking in your lap where they rest and he runs over and drops to sit as out of the way as he can while still being beside you. His hands reach out and stop as if he’s not sure if you’re stable enough for contact yet. The two healers finish what they can and leave, giving you both some kind of privacy. Really the whole camp can’t bear to take their eyes off you for a moment, in case you fall again, in case the magic doesn’t hold and you slip away.

You look at Rolan and your lip trembles and that’s all it takes for him to wrap you in his arms as tight as he can and you sob. You cry like a child experiencing true fear for the first time and he holds you. He rocks you back and forth and holds you together as you fall apart. And if he’s crying too who has the nerve to say anything. He presses his lips to your temple and holds you tighter. He shifts you both inside your tent as your sobbing slows and sits so he’s leaning against something, and just holds you as you calm. When you fall asleep in his arms, he repositions you both, pausing before he lays down to remove his boots and outer robes with all its irritating bits. He lays down beside you in just his breeches and shirt and pulls you back into him to sleep. He doesn’t know what dreams or nightmares one has after dying, but he can’t imagine they’ll be pleasant.

Because whatever else comes, at least for right now, he will be there at your side to face it.

Flower anon, have I told you recently how much I love you?

This makes me feel SO MANY FEELINGS-

It doesn't help that you somehow managed to pick the exact team my original Tav ran with for almost the entire game/final battle. I just want to kiss Rolan until he feels better and keep him in my pocket so he never feels bad again. This was glorious as always and I love getting your fics in my inbox ♥️

[lightgirlification]

In Stars and Time: After Story Chapter 6

CW for slight negative thinking

Sorry for the wait with this one! The holidays were a bit overwhelming and then I got sick XC I hope to update faster in the future! Please enjoy!

Siffrin double checked the bags with important items, such as tonics and crafted water, with Mirabelle. They also made sure they had the map and compass ready, of which Odile was making final adjustments to the routes they’d be taking. Meanwhile, Bonnie and Isabeau were making breakfast together for everyone to eat before the group was to set out again for Bambouche. Siffrin couldn’t believe they’d be there in a month already; it seemed like only yesterday they had left Dormont, but it felt nice to be far away from the place. He wouldn’t dare badmouth Mirabelle’s home, but his anxiety spiked being there longer than they had to be.

He couldn’t even speak much when saying goodbye to the Head Housemaiden; no one seemed to blame him for it, which is good. It’s not that he felt the woman was a bad person, he didn’t believe she was, it’s just he felt if he spoke to her, it would be the end of his ‘happily ever after’. It didn’t matter how silly it sounded; it was real to him. He did make one last trek to the Favor Tree, to thank Loop once more before leaving, though he couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye. He wanted to see them again someday and he had this uneasy feeling, however silly it was, if he said goodbye then they’d never meet again. So, he said his thanks instead, hoping with all his soul that Loop would come back someday.

He supposed his hopes came true after all; he didn’t even have to wish for it. Good thing too because wishing was off the table, it didn’t matter how small they were Siffrin was afraid to even think the word, flinching slightly when he did. He would read up on wish craft and research it with Odile when he felt prepared, but for now it was off limits, as was the place of Dormont in general. Everyone seemed to silently agree that Dormont never be brought up, at least until Siffrin was ready. Hopefully with enough traveling and his talks with Odile, perhaps therapy as well, he’ll be able to visit again one day.

“Do you think we’ve packed enough fire starters?” Mirabelle asked, “Maybe a few more couldn’t hurt.” Siffrin arched an eyebrow with a smile,

“I am pretty sure we packed around 50. And by the time we are close to finishing them we should be near our next town. There’s also travelling merchants we can run into, so I don’t think we have to worry too much.” Mirabelle seemed to think some more,

“E-Even so, you can’t predict just how long it will take to get to the next town, or when a traveling salesman will show up! Or-!”

“It’ll be okay Mira. We are always prepared no matter what! If not you, Odile makes sure of that.” The rogue gave a thumbs up, and the woman blinked before thinking for a bit,

“Well, Odile did check everything with me the night before as well…Alright!” Mirabelle placed the bag to the side, “I think all that’s left is to check our personal bags! The others already did theirs.” Siffrin nodded and reached for their bag to check its contents. He would say he didn’t need a refresher at this point, but he wouldn’t deny the opportunity to have one, especially with how his mind worked. It didn’t matter that he remembered Isabeau’s favorite dish or that he’s recalling things easier, it can always turn around for the worst, because he was the worst, because he didn’t trudge through the waters enough to grasp memories and treated them like garbage.

He felt something sharp, and he froze. He wouldn’t dare look down at this moment, held his breath as if he was saving himself from the harsh waves above him. He wouldn’t deny he had the want to use the sharp edge of his dagger against his neck in the beginning of the new journey. It was so easy to forget he wasn’t in the loops, so easy to stop the negative thoughts in their tracks if he just gave in and tried to carve new stars or even other types of imagery on the canvas that was his flesh. But he wouldn’t now, not after remembering the first time when he used the dagger and his family’s reactions, especially knowing that Isabeau saw him first. Isabeau picked up on Siffrin’s changes in behavior more than anyone, so much that it scared the Traveler. But it’s also why Siffrin loved Isabeau, knew their heart was safe; cradled so gently yet shielded in a protective hold.

He only considered using the dagger once after the loops. His thoughts were racing and clenched his temples like a vice; his stomach twisting causing him to feel so nauseous that he believed he’d loop. He couldn’t go through it all again, if he woke up in that field and Loop wasn’t there to guide him…

When he heard Isabeau’s voice however, he wasn’t sure what to do. Siffrin was scared that the man would yell and yank the weapon away from them, scolding them as if they made the biggest mistake ever, but everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Isabeau wasn’t mad, or upset, he just approached Siffrin calmly and asked for the dagger. Siffrin didn’t want to give it up at first, they even gripped it tighter in fear, but Isabeau continued to speak gently until Siffrin felt safe enough to hand it over. After retrieving and placing it far away, the man hugged Siffrin tightly, thanking his God that Siffrin was okay and apologizing that he didn’t notice how the other felt that day. Siffrin then realized how much Isabeau was trying to hold himself together, from his expression to his voice; trying to hold it together before letting it out once the Rogue was safe in his arms. It led to Siffrin breaking down, saying sorry like a mantra as if it would erase what he was planning to do. Isabeau just said it was okay and cradled Siffrin in his arms, the older not understanding what he did to deserve this love. How was what he did to Isabeau, to all of his family, in that moment okay? Siffrin was too scared to ask then, and never came around to doing so out of shame.

He couldn’t hide how he felt about the dagger after that, though he made everyone promise not to tell Bonnie. It would be too much for the preteen…

Taking a deep breath, he quickly made sure everything was in his bag before closing it up and placing it with everyone else’s belongings. Stop thinking about this too much Siffrin. Isabeau said that a person pushing themselves too hard will have the same effect as not trying at all, so calm down. It’ll be fine, everything will be fine.

“Are you alright, Siffrin?” Siffrin straightened up at Mirabelle’s words, and he sent a reassuring smile,

“I’m all good. Just a little too much on my mind.” Mirabelle seemed to not believe him, and he shifted nervously a little, “I promise, I was just thinking a lot.” The Housemaiden held her hands close to her chest, an action she normally did when gathering courage to say something,

“A-Alright then. Would you like to talk about it?” She sounded concerned, way to go Siffrin…He rubbed his arm, trying to wrangle in his thoughts,

“It’s just…” Come on Siffrin, talking helps, “When I was looking through my bag, I was starting to…think poorly about myself again.” Mirabelle nodded,

“You seemed to freeze at some point when sorting through your things.” Siffrin felt a chill go through him, “I-I didn’t want to say anything since I thought you were very focused, but you were also very quiet, so I felt something was wrong.” The woman paused, “Are you worried about your memory still?” The stare she received all but confirmed her thoughts, Siffrin couldn’t help it though. Mirabelle had hit the nail on the head, though thankfully she didn’t consider his dagger. Siffrin didn’t plan on using it truth be told, it just startled him when he was stuck in his head. Mirabelle hummed in thought before blinking as her eyes lit up with an idea, “Oh! Have you thought about keeping a journal Siffrin?” The said Rogue tilted their head,

“A journal?”

“Yes! Journals are a great way to put down your thoughts or recount what happened to you during that day. They’re great for recalling wonderful memories or getting out emotions when you need to.” Mirabelle’s smile grew, “We can go buy you one before we leave this town! I-If you want that is!” Siffrin mulled it over for a bit. He felt maybe this would be a crutch, but Mirabelle’s personal items for her anxiety weren’t ever ‘crutches’. They were things that helped her become stronger, so perhaps this would do the same with Siffrin.

“I can write anything in it?” Mirabelle nodded,

“Yup, anything! You can personalize it as well!” Siffrin began to really enjoy the idea, maybe he could sketch in the journal as well. He returned the woman’s smile,

“Okay, I think I’ll take you up on your offer.” A few little jumps of happiness showed Siffrin how much his answer excited Mirabelle, and Siffrin couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction. After a few more minutes checking over everything, mostly to reassure Mirabelle, they made their way out to the dining area where Bonnie and Isabeau were beginning to plate the food. Isabeau sent the two a smile,

“Hey you two, everything good on your end?” Mirabelle and Siffrin sat down at the table as younger woman spoke,

“Yes! We can set out once we are ready.”

“You guys took a while!” Bonnie huffed, “Did the bags suddenly come alive or something?” Odile smirked,

“I think we’d hear shouting throughout the entire house if that happened.”

“W-We can handle ourselves thank you very much!” Mirabelle pouted, Siffrin crossing his arms,

“Yeah, we would have to…” There was a feline expression on his face, “Strap in and fight them off.” Mirabelle had to hold back her giggles as Isabeau, of course, began to laugh heartily. Odile and Bonnie groaned, the latter opting to stick their tongue out,

“No! Bad!” Siffrin’s cat-like smile simply grew. He eyed the food and couldn’t help his mouth from watering. He came to appreciate meals even more since the loops ended and delighted in any recipe Bonnie made. Maybe he could write some recipes down in the journal he’ll be getting soon. Siffrin wondered what his first entry would be, though maybe thinking too much about it would defeat the purpose.

“Ah! Before we leave, Siffrin and I are going to stop by the bookshop. We’re looking for a journal!” Odile raised an inquisitive eyebrow,

“Oh? I didn’t realize you were interested in journaling Siffrin.” A smile lined her lips, “I think it would be good for you; journaling can relieve stress.”

“Is that why you’re always writing Dile?” Bonnie said as they began serving themselves, and Odile grinned teasingly,

“Oh yes. I’m writing down how you kids are always fraying my nerves and giving me more than a few ulcers.” Siffrin snickered, having long picked up on at least a few of Odile’s witty remarks. Isabeau gave a feigned wounded look,

“You wound me Madam, I would think us kids at least give you positive energy!” Odile laughed,

“I suppose that’s true.” She looked down, her grin fond, “Yes, you all give me that and much more.” Everyone smiled. After breakfast, Siffrin and Mirabelle went to the nearby store, the latter carrying the money pouch with her. The rest of the party had told the two to go look at the various journals for sale while the others finished up at the house. Afterwords, everyone would meet at the town’s second exit to continue their journey to Bambouche. Bonnie was excited to get moving again but agreed to be patient; Siffrin and Mirabelle would be quick for them anyway as they understood the preteen’s patience wasn’t their strong suit. Siffrin chuckled at picturing Bonnie’s reaction to such a statement, but also knew Bonnie was rather mature for their age, which he respected. Mirabelle picked up a journal with some floral patterns, and smiled at Siffrin,

“What do you think of this one Siffrin?” Siffrin looked at the cover for a bit, thinking, before shaking his head,

“I think I want to look at more first.” Mirabelle nodded,

“That’s fair!” Siffrin joined her in looking at the blank books as she continued, “We’ll have to get you some writing utensils too.” The Rouge tilted his head,

“Can’t I ask Odile for a pencil?”

“You could, but it’s nice to have your own. Also, you can have different designs on the pens and pencils too!” Siffrin smiled at that idea and nodded, then pondered for a moment,

“Have you kept a journal too Mirabelle?” The woman nodded,

“I have had several in the past! I did stop for a time, but my therapist helped me start writing again!” Siffrin did recall Mirabelle speaking about a therapist before, it helped her a lot apparently. Siffrin shifted to his other leg,

“Therapy huh…?” Mirabelle tilted her head knowingly, a soft smile on her lips,

“I know the idea of it worries you, but therapy can truly help you come to terms with a lot of things. You aren’t any different for needing help Siffrin, and I promise you I’ll tell you everything I know about therapy if it helps.” Siffrin nodded,

“I’d like that. I just don’t know how to even share my problems with…a stranger of all things.” Mirabelle’s smile remained, though her eyebrows knitted together knowing how Siffrin felt,

“I understand. I felt very much the same, however therapists are there to listen and help you work through your issues. My therapist gives me building blocks to work with and am much better than I was. Though again, I know it’s easier said than done, so you give it some thought first.” Siffrin nodded again. Another reason that scared him about therapy was, well he didn’t think he deserved help after all that he did back then. It was hard for him to ask for help, more over ask for anything he wanted, but if his family wanted the best for him perhaps it’s time for Siffrin himself to start wanting that too. “I have an idea, let me handle the writing utensils! You pick out a journal you really like!”

“Okay, sounds good.” Mirabelle then went to look at the area that held the items she was looking for. Siffrin turned back to the books and took in their designs. Flowers, shells, animals, there was anything and everything for people to pick out. They all looked nice of course, but none of them really grabbed Siffrin’s attention, that is until his gaze fell on a journal with stars on its cover. It had beautiful shading, and the stars were drawn as hanging ornaments alongside a crescent moon. Siffrin picked it up and turning it a little, the stars and moon shimmered slightly. Siffrin felt himself smiling, it was like this journal was made for him! He excitedly headed over to Mirabelle with it, and saw she had already picked out some things,

“Oh? Have you found one Siffrin?” Siffrin beamed, showing Mirabelle the said journal. Mirabelle’s eyes grew wide at it, as she began to beam too, “It’s lovely Siffrin! It suits you perfectly.” Siffrin giggled and held the book close to him, jumping up and down a little. He couldn’t help it; he really liked this journal! Mirabelle then showed Siffrin the items she picked out, “I thought you’d like some star themed items, so I decided that these designs would work best!” A pen and pencil with stars on them, moon shaped erasers, and even a pencil sharpener with sparkles on it. Siffrin couldn’t help but giggle more,

“Thank you Mira, I love these!” Mirabelle nodded, joining in Siffrin’s laughter in united glee. They went to purchase the items, and the bright haired rouge wondered what his first entry would be. Perhaps he could keep track of day-to-day tasks, or maybe just important things. Then again, writing about Loop’s nightly visits would be good too! Siffrin almost didn’t realize they were done at the register, and they left the shop.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Pitching up tents had become second nature to the group by this point. Everyone pitched their respective tents, so that meant Isabeau and Siffrin were working together. They usually worked fast, but Siffrin’s mind wandered a lot this time, from his journal to Loop’s visit, his brain wouldn’t settle down…

“Penny for your thoughts, Sif?” Siffrin looked at Isabeau, who gave a lopsided smile. Siffrin smirked,

“Depends. Does the ‘Big, Strong, Handsome Isabeau’ have an answer I desire?” Isabeau blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, an embarrassed chuckle leaving his lips,

“I think it’s worthy for the ‘Cute, Witty, Amazing Siffrin’.” Siffrin chuckled as well, and Isabeau continued, “I have a feeling you’re thinking about what to write in your journal.” Siffrin blinked. Isabeau was sharp as always, especially when concerning them. Siffrin scratched his cheek, a nervous smile now on his face,

“That obvious huh?” He knelt to put a peg in the ground, “It’s just…There’s so many things I could write about. There’re things we do every day, like what Bonnie cooks, Mirabelle’s fireside stories, down to us just relaxing with each other. Just…so many memories.” Isabeau hummed,

“Well, you don’t need to write down everything every day. You can start by writing down what you feel was most important.”

“But that’s the problem, everything is important.” Isabeau nodded,

“That’s true, but we’re also here to remind you of what you mentioned. Not to say you can’t write down stories and recipes that are your favorite.” Siffrin started laughing softly,

“Another problem, cause everything Bonnie cooks is my favorite.” Isabeau laughed as well,

“Point is, while every memory is special not all need to be put down on paper. Sometimes it’s best to just experience the moments instead of recording every single one.” The rouge began to understand, it did sound better when put like that. Odile seemed to have heard the tail end of the conversation and approached,

“I agree with Isabeau, in fact it’s the same with my notes. When it comes to studying, I am thorough with the details. However, since traveling with all of you I decided to put the notebook down and let the moments speak for themselves.” Isabeau nodded,

“Same here, it’s like being with my family again.” Odile raised an eyebrow with a smile,

“Well we’re honored. I recall you have several siblings, are we as chaotic as them?” Isabeau let out another laugh,

“You’d be surprised how calm some of them are, but even if the others bounce off the walls I say that’s okay. They each have a way they like to live, it’s good to have variety in life.” Odile chuckled,

“Indeed. I’m sure they are all have the Isabeau charm.” A warm compliment, but Isabeau shifted a little,

“‘Isabeau charm’ huh?” Odile tilted her head,

“Hm? Did I say something wrong?” Isabeau shook his head, a smile returning to his face,

“No, I just thought it’s better for all of them to have their own charm is all!” Siffrin frowned a little. Isabeau had been slow with becoming comfortable showing different sides of himself, and he still didn’t see many of his own good qualities. Siffrin could tell when Isabeau was thinking about himself; the wrinkle in his brow, a distant gaze in his eyes, and his hands gripped his sleeves as his arms were crossed in front of his chest. It was like Isabeau was trying to calculate how he could be better than he was, and Siffrin didn’t like that their boyfriend thought negatively about himself. They wished they could grab Isabeau’s brain by the throat and force it to think positively, but all they could do was try to distract the other when he looked too deep in thought. They weren’t as good with words like Isabeau was, so they couldn’t comfort him like he did them. Maybe they could one day…Odile seemed to take in the situation, and crossed her arms,

“I agree, individuality is good. However, I think taking after you wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Isabeau looked at the woman, whose smile returned, “You have proven time and time again your care and support for others is unmatched. If your younger siblings feel that support, which I’m sure they do, I think you have done more then enough as a brother.” Isabeau looked as if he was truly taken aback by the words, before he looked down, an emotional expression lining his features,

“I…I see.” Siffrin became concerned and was going to call out when Isabeau rubbed his face down and stood up, “I’m going to see if Mira needs help with the fire! I’ll be back Sif!” Watching him go, Odile sighed,

“Did I overstep?” Siffrin shook his head,

“No, Isa would have told you promise. He just doesn’t want to believe the good things about him.” He sounded more frustrated than he intended, but it came from a place of worry. He wished he could just hug Isabeau’s fears away, squeeze them out of the man until he felt better, but that’s not how the mind worked; Siffrin understood that better than anyone…Odile pushed her glasses up, collecting her thoughts,

“We should be there to halt that negative thinking then. I assume you wish to be on the front lines Siffrin?” Siffrin chuckled,

“You know it.”

Time had passed quickly, and dinner time had arrived to which everyone gathered around the fire to eat. Siffrin sat next to Isabeau which was normal as they were together, however tonight Siffrin wanted to make sure his boyfriend was okay after earlier. Isabeau wore a smile right now, but over time Siffrin came to understand that the man held onto feelings and thoughts for a while, mostly if it pertained to him. He never blamed Siffrin for their breakdown and horrible words, in fact Isabeau was kind of into it believe it or not, but the rogue still felt he wronged Isabeau by dragging the man’s insecurities in the dirt and laid them bare in front of them both. Isabeau didn’t deserve that at all, none of his family did, if he had just talked to them…

“Siffrin? You alright?” It was Mirabelle’s voice, and Siffrin felt their face uncrunch as they blinked a few times, they must’ve been making a bad face just now. They gave a reassuring smile,

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” Mirabelle frowned in concern, which is what Siffrin was trying to prevent,

“Do you want to talk about it?” Did they? Would it be too much with Isabeau sitting right there? Speaking of which, the man nudged Siffrin’s side with his,

“What’s up Sif?” Siffrin’s feet shuffled slightly,

“I just…Was thinking about what happened a few months back.” He decided not to bring up the specific conversation, it was probably for the best considering how Isabeau reacted earlier. Bonnie huffed,

“Well, we’ve already forgave you! You don’t got anything to worry about no more!” Siffrin smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Bonnie frowned more, “I can tell you still don’t believe you earned it, which is your brain just being dumb!” There was a chuckle from Mirabelle,

“While I agree, Siffrin’s brain apart of him.” Bonnie shook his head,

“Frin’s not being dumb because Frin doesn’t like how this feels. He cares about us too much to keep saying all that stuff to us.” Bonnie took a bite of their food, “I don’t really know all that Frin went through, but I know that he is doing his best to get better and that’s what matters right?” Siffrin blinked, before looking down as he tried to hold back his tears. Bonnie had such a wonderful outlook on the whole thing, Siffrin hoped they kept that mindset for a long time. Odile nodded,

“I agree. You’re doing very well Siffrin, and improving on your own volition is a great step forward.” Siffrin tucked his chin in his cloak, trying to hide his embarrassment. Praise was still something he wasn’t used to, though he did really appreciate it; in fact, he adored hearing it to the point it was like an addiction. Maybe he should talk to Odile about that, it might be a problem he has…He could feel Isabeau’s sunny smile beam onto him,

“We’re very proud of you buddy. You get stronger, and cuter, everyday!” Siffrin blushed and shut his eyes tightly in embarrassment, but he giggled all the same. Bonnie stuck their tongue out, “Yick! Dile, Za and Frin are being lovey dovey again!!” Odile chuckled,

“How scandalous, whatever shall we do with them?” Mirabelle smiled, “They must listen to one of my stories as punishment!” The laugh that left Isabeau’s chest was always music to Siffrin’s ears,

“Can I stay with Siffrin while we do?” Mirabelle nodded,

“Of course!” Isabeau smiled at Siffrin. Stars, Siffrin will never get tired of looking at this wonderful man.

Mirabelle read the next issue of the Cursing of Chateau Castle they were currently on that night. Bonnie loved to make comments, but it was obvious they were very much into the story, and Odile seemed as if she was taking mental notes. Isabeau was also absorbed by the tale, Siffrin could tell from his concentrated expression which was trying to figure out what was going to come next. Siffrin loved how all of them reacted, it was very like all of them. He did already know how this tale ended, in fact the whole reason Mirabelle wanted to read the entire series with everyone was so they could react to the ending together, but Siffrin didn’t dare ruin it. It was ‘spoilers’, and he wouldn’t speak of those because Mirabelle wouldn’t appreciate them.

“Lord Joséphandre looked at his friend with despair in his eyes, ‘Don’t do this, Pierre! You can still make it!’ Pierre simply smiled at his friend before pushing the lord away to safety as his castle continued to crumble. The man, who would forever be known for his betrayal, simply walked to the back of the room and sat down, looking up at the painted picture. It was a memory of a long-forgotten past, one that was shared between old friends and could never be re-lived. He closed his eyes, and the castle’s magnificence soon crumbled to nothing.” Mirabelle closed the book, and was quiet for a while, but then she smiled, “And that’s issue #68!” Odile hummed,

“I see, a self-sacrifice from a character looking to redeem his wrongs. An old tale but I admit it was done well here.” Bonnie frowned a little,

“I don’t really get it. Couldn’t they have saved him?” Mirabelle smiled softly,

“It’s complicated Bonnie. With the whole world against Pierre, he wanted to do something that would have helped his friend. If that meant cutting off the magic that came from where his castle stood, he’d do it. The whole reason he had to die was because of the pact we learned of in issue #64.” Bonnie still looked conflicted,

“I still don’t like it.” Isabeau looked up,

“I think I get it. He wanted to protect the people he felt mattered right? In the end nothing else matter because they were all he had, even if there was no going back for him.” He closed his eyes in thought, “I can understand that.” Siffrin could too. Hell, he was willing to do terrible things if it meant keeping his family safe. It morphed into him becoming possessive, and while he was still working on how he felt about it all, he liked to think he was getting better at it. Odile stood up,

“Well then, I think it’s time we all turn in. Isabeau and Bonnie, you’re both on cleaning duty tonight.”

“On it!” Isabeau announced, and everyone else went into their respective tents. Siffrin decided to take out his journal and try to write down something. Settling down on his sleeping bag, he opened the book and began to stare at the blank page. What could he write down to start? He thought back to what Odile and Isbeau said, and perhaps it’d be easier to just keep it simple. He decided to write about how the group left town today and how he looked forward to continuing the journey with everyone. The words just flowed from there, it wasn’t exceedingly detailed, but it still felt enough. It also made Siffrin feel like he was able to keep track of everything without help from the others; his memories would be safely stored here, and he didn’t have to worry about them. Siffrin really liked writing in this journal, he wondered why he didn’t ask about these earlier. Hearing the tent rustle, he quickly finished up and placed the journal to the side. Isabeau climbed inside and laid down while Siffrin blew out the lantern. He snuggled close to Isabeau, who wrapped his arms around the shorter, and Siffrin fell asleep with no worries.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

There was a warm breeze as Siffrin opened his eyes to the meadow’s grass tickling his nose as he laid on his side. He sat up to see the Favor Tree not far from him, Loop sitting underneath it as if they had been there for a while. They waved at Siffrin with a cheery grin,

“Good evening, Stardust~.” The rogue felt himself beaming at the star and he quickly got up to make his way over. So this was going to be a normal occurrence! Thank the stars! Loop raised an eyebrow, “Well you seem chipper. Did something extraordinary happen today?” Siffrin simply chuckled,

“Well, I get to see you again, so there’s that.” Loop looked a little taken aback at Siffrin’s words, then their eyes looked away,

“I see. Well, whatever strikes your fancy I suppose.” Siffrin’s smile faded, not liking how Loop reacted. Did they not like that he was happy to see them? Perhaps they were still getting used to being back, or maybe they didn’t believe Siffrin saw them as more than a guide; he had to fix that quickly. He sat down, smiling again,

“It does make me glad to see you yes. I wanted to talk to you outside of the loops, just have normal conversations.” Loop’s gaze returned to Siffrin,

“Normal huh?” They let out a bitter laugh, “Depends on what you define as ‘normal’. Last I checked Stardust, I’m far from ‘normal’.” Watch the phrasing Siffrin. The rogue gave a reassuring smile,

“Aren’t the best people far from ‘normal’?” Loop stared at Siffrin, genuinely not knowingly what to say. They turned away again, their eyes distant,

“Not me.” Siffrin lost his smile once more. Loop sounded so convinced of what they said as if they rehearsed it like a mantra. Siffrin didn’t agree, of course; the idea settling in his chest with extreme discomfort. He clenched his hands once to quell his unease before speaking again,

“Whatever the case, I’m happy you’re here.” It was quiet between them for a while, and Siffrin shuffled his feet a little, before Loop said in a soft, genuine tone,

“I am happy you’re here too Stardust.” Siffrin smiled.

[tkaulitzlvr]

WE NEEEED A PART 2 OF ANSWER IT !!! 🙏🙏 you don’t have to if you don’t want to but i just NEED to know what happens after ! anyways i love your writings!

ANSWER IT (2) - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: after things with your boyfriend end unexpectedly - thanks to no one but you, tom makes a confession that you never could have been prepared for.

content: angst & fluff

a/n: so many ppl have been BEGGING for a pt2 to answer it and honestly i never planned on writing one but here u go i guess!!😭 also random but this clip makes me go feral so had to use it for the gif🙏

my chest rises up and down, completely breathless as tom collapses on top of me, lips lazily pressing to my collarbone. our bodies stick together, sweat glistening against them, the smell of sex circling around the room as our heavy breathing mixes with it. he pulls out of me, a low whine leaving my lips at the loss of contact. his calloused hands run up and down my waist, unspoken words left unsaid as we lay within each other’s embrace, coming down from some of the best sex we have ever had.

“so fucking good.” he mutters against me as his head rests in my neck, a lazy smile on his face.

but, unlike every other time we had fucked, i no longer share the same sense of hazy happiness, lethargic bliss that i usually would, the reality of the situation soon coming to light, a sickly feeling of guilt rising from the pit of my stomach as i realise what i have done - my boyfriend has just caught me cheating on him.

though i completely deserved this, to feel so ashamed, so completely devastated, after all, i was the one to blame, it didn’t at all ease my pain. strangely, i didn’t regret fucking tom the way i had been these past months, i just longed to erase the phone call, wishing that it had never happened as i stare blankly at the ceiling, my eyes welling up with long-awaited tears whilst tom absentmindedly lays with his body on mine, lips placing tired kisses on my bare skin.

“so fucking glad you finally got rid of that guy.” he mutters, gently nibbling at the skin below my ear, pulling at my waist and moving his crotch to grind it against me, his small movements making me realise exactly what he wants. “he was such an ass, didn’t deserve to have you all to his self, didn’t treat you the way you should’ve been, such a fucking cunt.”

my whole body tenses up at the mention of him, eyes no longer able to hold the tears back as they fall down my cheeks. i am frozen in place, unable to move, beating myself up for literally everything, hating how tom can be so nonchalant about it - he had always been aware that i wanted this to be strictly kept a secret. and i cannot help but blame him. he was the one to pick up the phone, to make me answer it, and ultimately blow my cover.

my body begins to shake as i silently sob, tom’s head lifting up from my shoulder in confusion. his eyebrows furrow, clearly not understanding why i am upset, totally oblivious to this whole thing, not able to see where he fucked up.

“woah woah, what’s going on?” he asks, sitting up and resting his back against the head board, quickly scooping me into his lap as he holds me, hands running down to my lower back in an attempt to comfort me.

my sadness soon mixes with anger, utterly despising tom in this moment as i roughly escape his hold, pushing my arms flush against his chest, finally getting out from his grasp. i clench my jaw, shaking my head as the tears continue to fall, angrily slipping my panties and bra on.

“hey, what’s up? talk to me, what happened?” tom frantically asks, getting up from the bed and slipping his boxers on, rushing over to me and trying to place his hands in mine.

“what happened? what fucking happened?” i scoff, shaking my head at his stupidity, in complete disbelief of how someone can be so naive.

his eyes search mine, genuinely not understanding where any of this has come from. he nears me once again, but i take a step back, not wanting to be anywhere near him right now, taking his silence as an opportunity to carry on with my fit of rage.

“what happened is you made my boyfriend break up with me, and you don’t even care!” my voice is raised, just below a shout as his eyebrows furrow, expression now mirroring my rage, as he opens his mouth, ready to lash out on me as i had on him.

“i made him break up with you? are you fucking insane?” he lets out a frustrated laugh, tongue playing with his lip ring as he steps back.

“you answered the phone! i don’t know what shit you were trying to fucking pull, but this is your fault, don’t make me out to be the crazy one!” i shoot back, digging a finger into his chest as i point at him, done with his attempts to manipulate this entire situation.

“you’ve been cheating on him for the past three months! since when do you give a fuck about his feelings or your relationship? it couldn’t have been that fucking great if you felt the need to fuck me on the daily!” each word that falls from his lips pierce me in the chest, completely taken aback at his nerve. the second that my face falls, mouth opening with no sound coming from it, he knows that he has gone too far.

“wow.” i scoff, searching the room for the rest of my clothes. “that’s fucking low.”

“is it? ‘cause the last time i checked, you don’t fuck someone else whilst you’re in a relationship unless it’s gone to shit. stop acting like i’ve ruined something that actually mattered to you, like you had a perfect relationship. it takes two people to fuck, you’re no fucking saint.” he keeps going, knowing that he is getting to me, aware of the right buttons to press - and he is hitting every single one, scoffing when he sees my face fall, tears falling at a much faster pace.

i struggle to find the right words, stuck in place as i know that he is right. though he said it in the harshest way possible, i am no better than him, if anything, i am worse, tom not in a relationship like i was. and it is that realisation that kills me slowly, twisting the blade inside me as i stand silently, tears now cascading down my cheeks.

“thanks. if you were looking to make me feel worse than i already do then you’ve done a pretty good fucking job.” my voice is low as i refuse to meet his eyes, completely ashamed. i slip my hoodie over my frame, redressing myself as i begin to feel uncomfortable in such little clothing in front of him, the confidence that would usually surround me long gone.

his face softens once i walk towards the door, panic setting in as he rushes to stand in front of it, blocking my exit.

“fuck- i didn’t mean it like that. don’t go.” he pleads, his eyes sorry as they look into mine, searching for any hint that his subtle begging is working.

“why should i stay? so you can ridicule me even more? tell me how much of a slut i am? that i should feel guilty, and it’s all my fault?” i scoff, listing off the endless scenarios.

“why would i do that?” he asks, his voice now softer, the anger that previously dominated it long gone as he seems somewhat sorry for me.

i stay silent, partly intrigued to hear him continue, however also knowing that my tears are preventing me from producing coherent speech. he takes a step towards me, hand lightly brushing against mine as he takes a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak.

“wanna know why i hated him so much?” he asks.

the question had always lingered in the back of my mind. i knew, from the way tom’s face twisted in disgust the first time i told him i had a boyfriend, that he despised him, his hatred only growing each time i would mention him. he never said why, instead using his name to fuel his own desire, never failing to remind me that he could never fuck me that way tom would, always slipping his name into the conversation as some reminder that what i had with tom was far better than anything i had going on with my boyfriend.

i look upwards, my eyes meeting his, my gaze a silent nod of agreement to his question.

“i couldn’t stand the thought of him touching you, being around you, knowing that you belonged to him and not me. drove me fucking insane. i loved that i got to see a side of you he never did, i loved seeing you underneath me, because i knew that that was the only time you belonged to me.”

my eyebrows furrow, trying to understand what he is saying, confused on how it has taken this long for him to say all of this.

“i like you. since that night when we hooked up at the club, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. i tried, but somehow everything came back to you. and it killed me knowing that all i could do was fuck you, knowing that you’d never feel the same way, because of him. and i hated him for it, i still do, because all i could think about is you being in love with someone else, wishing just for one second you’d care about me the way you do him.”

he pours his heart out, lips staying parted once he finishes, trying to make out my thoughts from my facial expression. i give him nothing, only able to stand there in pure shock, not ever anticipating anything like this, especially from someone like tom. i knew his reputation, and i knew that i wasn’t the only girl he was fucking, but it had never mattered for me. it was wrong for me to be doing this with him in the first place - catching feelings would be on a whole new wavelength of immoral.

“say something, please.” he mutters, his voice desperate as my silence only lets his words linger, the atmosphere turning from tense to uneasy.

it may be rash, and admittedly, my mind is hazy from the entire situation, yet in this moment, i don’t care, and it is this impulse that brings me to press my lips against his, arms wrapping around his neck as i pull him closer. he quickly kisses back, hands running to my lower back as he smiles into it, something about his lips against mine igniting a spark that i had never felt before, and though it was wrong, it felt so right - it always had.

against all odds, against everything that was deemed morally correct, i need him, and though it took his unexpected confession for me to realise it, i am more sure than ever, holding onto him tighter and tighter as he does the same, pulling away and smiling against me.

“i hate how crazy you make me.” he mutters against my lips, his cold breath fanning against them. “but i don’t want it to stop.”

those are the final words he says before reconnecting our lips, carrying the unspoken promise that he means every part of it, the missing piece within me now found, finally realising that what i needed had been right in front of me the whole time.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[watchingovergvff]

Don’t Blame Me- Jake Kiszka

Summary: The push and pull of your’s and Jake’s relationship is exhausting. He used to be your knight in shining armor, but now only lives to be a thorn in your side. One night changes it all, can you get past it?

Genre: Enemies to Lovers. Secret Relationship. Angst, Fluff.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Alcohol. Cursing. Implied Sexual Relations. Jealousy. Asshole!Jake.

A/N: I love to hear feedback, so please don’t hesitate to do so. Thank you for all the love and support <3333 This fic was loosely based on Taylor Swift’s “Don’t Blame Me”.

_______________________________________________

“Do you get off at five today?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna go out with me and the guys tonight?”

“Sure, you're picking me up though.”

Danny truly gets the best big brother award. Here he is, calling you once again, inviting you to go out with the rest of the guys. Normal big brothers would be too embarrassed to have their little sister trail behind them, not Danny.

Your parents never had to force Danny to tote you around. If you had gone missing, it was most likely because he had brought you with him somewhere. The two of you were only a year apart, but Danny did have the habit of being over protective of you.

Regardless of the fact you were siblings, you were also best friends. When Danny and Sam first became friends, Danny had insisted you were included in everything, no matter what. Sam had never found it odd, over time he became just as attached to you as Danny was. So, that's how your little trio started and has stayed throughout the years.

Driving home from work, you take note of the sunny weather surrounding you. Sam had called you on the way home from work, wanting to chat about his week. Letting him ramble away, you chime in every now and then. Pulling into your driveway, you spot Danny’s car parked near the curb. Hanging up the phone with Sam, you promise to resume your one sided conversation at the bar tonight. Sauntering through your front door, you find Danny sprawled out on your couch.

“Hey kiddo,” he utters.

“Hey, you're here early.”

Danny kicks off the couch, heading to your room already. You follow close behind him, needing to find something else to wear tonight.

“I’ve been here since 12. Studio time got cut short today, because Jake and Josh couldn’t get along whatsoever.” “But, aren’t we going out with them tonight?”

“Yep.”

Watching him shrug his shoulders at the brothers' ridiculous conflict. Scouring through your closet, you kick Danny out of your room so you can change.

You wanted to keep it cool tonight, since it would be super hot outside, so you opted for jean shorts and a simple top.

Finding Danny in your kitchen, chugging water, you start feeling nervous.

“So, Jake is coming for sure?”

“Yeah, he’ll show up at some point.”

He eyes you curiously. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it matter if Jake shows up or not?”

“I just want to be prepared for his sour attitude.”

He laughs, gesturing for you to gather your things and head out the door. Following him to the car, you can’t shake the nerves of seeing Jake.

___________

Growing up with Danny and Sam, you were bound to wander through the Kiszka household at some point. One of the first times you met the twins, you had been searching for Sam.

Danny had told you to meet him at the Kiszka's house once you made it off the school bus, one late afternoon. He had reassured you that it was fine to just walk inside, they would be in Sam’s room waiting.

As a child, you were way more reserved compared to your older brother. Walking into a house you’ve never been in, regardless of the fact the two boys were waiting inside for you, you were drenched in fear.

Knocking on the front door, refusing to just walk in, you grip your backpack a little tighter. The door swings open and a boy you’ve never seen before stands in the doorway. “Hi, who are you?”

The boy wore one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen before.

“Sorry, is Danny here?” you whisper meekly, head hung low.

His face lights up even further, “Oh! You must be Y/n. Here, come inside.”

You hesitate, wanting to turn around and run home. He patiently waits for you, not wanting to make you even more nervous. Finally, you follow in after him.

“My name is Josh, I’m Sam’s older brother.”

Nodding up at him, you remain silent.

“This is Jake, my twin brother.”

Your head whips towards the older boy, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

The older boy, Jake, leans against the kitchen counter, barely giving you the time of day. He does manage a quick tight-lipped smile, going back to what he was doing.

Before you can make more of a fool of yourself, you hear your name being called down the hall. You look up at Josh, finally making eye contact with him, you smile. “Thank you, Josh.” you softly reply, skipping down the hall towards Sam’s room.

Throughout the rest of the evening, you couldn’t stop thinking of Sam’s older brother, Jake.

Those thoughts continued all throughout middle school, into high school, and now into your adult life. But, Jake had never given you the time of day, even now, only swapping pleasantries with you. You felt like a fool, letting some childhood crush linger this long, but no matter what you do, you just can’t shake Jake.

___________________

Arriving at the bar downtown, you and Danny make a b-line for the nearest bartender, already ordering drinks. “Y/n! You came.”

Sam comes stumbling to your left, swinging an arm around your shoulder.

“Hey, what about me?” Danny asks, taking both of your drinks from the bartender.

“I saw you a few hours ago Daniel, don’t be selfish.” Sam narrows his eyes, already letting the laughter sound.

You rub Sam’s back gently, peeling his intoxicated body off yours.

“How long have you been here?”

“Uhh, I think thirty minutes, but I'm not sure.”

Ruffling his hair, you ask, “How are you already drunk?” “Josh and I pregamed before.”

“Y’all need help.”

Danny, Sam, and you find Josh by the pool table, sipping on another beer. Josh being alot like his younger brother Sam, he squeezes you into a bearhug.

“I told Daniel to leave you alone. You work too hard to have to deal with us right after work.”

Walking around the pool table, you sit yourself atop a nearby barstool. “Whatever, I needed to come out tonight. I’ve been so stressed with work this week, and my boss has been giving me shit all month about some stupid paperwork thing. So, I’m looking forward to drowning my sorrows with all of you tonight.”

They all give you a pitiful look, feeling sorry for you. Swatting away their unnecessary pity, you flash a mischievous grin.

“Actually, you know what would make me feel better, another drink,” you sweetly reply, batting your eyelashes at Sam.

“Fine, your drinks are on me tonight.” Sam huffs, but gladly adds your next drink to his tab.

The boys start up a pool game, letting you go last since you're too busy sipping on your drink. Danny and you go head to head throughout the game, always being competitive with each other.

You unsurprisingly lose, becoming a sore loser almost instantly. Sam consoles you, always having a sweet spot for you.

Danny and Josh start yet another round of pool, but remain conversing with you and Sam. Your sour attitude towards Danny’s win fades quickly, getting wrapped up in whatever they start talking about.

Your happiness dies quickly, when a certain Kiszka twin enters the bar, meeting your eyes.

“Jake, you decided to show up, how nice of you.” Sam calls out, making everyone turn in Jake’s direction. “Fuck off Sam–”

Drowning out Jake’s words, you can’t help but wonder who the girl to his right is. The stranger trails Jake like a hawk, giving you a quick once over. You roll your eyes at the girl, not really caring for niceties.

It’s unlike you to not even try to be fake nice to strangers, but her reaction towards you minding your own business, makes it fair game.

Jake walks right past you, not even bothering to acknowledge you, which isn’t much of a surprise.

Not wanting Jake’s poor mood to bring you down any further, you tug Sam with you to get another drink.

______________

Jake had been anxious to see you all night. Danny had insisted on bringing you with them to the bar tonight, despite the fact Jake had suggested it be a guys night. Fine, if they didn’t want to listen to him, he would bring his own plus one.

Jake had only recently met this girl, but had decided to invite her anyway. In truth, the only reason he was bringing her in the first place was because he wanted to make you jealous. You had continuously teased him, using Sam to do your dirty work in making him jealous, so it's only fair that he gets a rise out of you this time.

It hasn’t always been like this, you and him. Over the years, Jake watched you grow up, always feeling a need to protect you like an older brother. That's what he felt like to you anyway, your big brother. You were four years younger than him, so of course he only saw you as a little sister.

Everything changed two years ago, at some random dinner party Josh threw. Jake had just recently gotten out of a long term relationship, struggling to even socialize with his brothers. Josh and Sam had insisted he come, trying to get him out of this funk. What they hadn’t mentioned was that the ‘dinner party’ was more of a rager if anything.

Their house was littered with people, all far from sober. Jake regrets even leaving his room to come down here. He starts to make the trek back to his room, that is until he hears his name being called behind him. Trying not to groan in annoyance, he slowly spins around.

“Hey, Jakey.”

It's Y/n.

Wow... she looks different. Why is she here?

“Y/n, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t sound too excited to see me,” you say snidely.

“No it’s just– No one told me you were coming.”

“No one knows I'm here. I had a free weekend, I figured why the hell not come see my favorite boys.”

“Well, good to see you. If anyone asks where I am, don’t tell them.”

He starts to walk away, purposefully not looking at you. “Oh– okay. I’ll come find you later.”

“Please don’t.”

Jake didn’t need to turn around to know the damage he’s just done to you, but instead of fixing it, he keeps walking as far away as he can get from you.

That night, Jake goes to sleep thinking of you, and not about the broken relationship he just left. ________________

You and Sam remained at the bar, sipping lightly on your drinks, chatting about anything and everything.

Danny was your best friend, he really was. But, Sam was different, he also wasn’t your brother. You and Danny talk about a lot, but there are some things you can’t bring yourself to talk about with him.

Sam was truly your best friend. He knew about your ongoing crush on Jake, even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud. Which is why he had no problem spending the night as far away from Jake as possible. He knew Jake brought that girl on purpose, maybe not just to irritate you, but to cause some sort of uproar.

Doing his best to get you out of your own head and enjoy yourself, Sam drags you to the makeshift dance floor when a familiar tune sounds out through the bar.

You groan, not really wanting to dance in the middle of this bar, despite the other couples dancing about. Sam’s bright smile is the only thing that convinces you to go lay it all out there with him. The both of you can’t dance to save your lives, but you can’t help but feel ten times lighter than you did before.

Sam twirls you around, laughing at your dazed out expression. Mid spin, your eyes catch Jakes’ for the second time tonight. Instead of caving in on yourself, you complete the spin, continuing your dance with Sam. Once the song came to an end, the two of you breathlessly bow, and saunter off the dance floor, hand in hand.

You can feel Jake’s eyes on you still, but you don’t give him the time of day. Walking past Jake and his guest, you latch onto Danny, slapping at his back playfully.

Sam returns to your side with what you think is another drink, but turns out to be just water. You gripe at his choice of beverage for you, but he waves you off, demanding you drink it.

“You two were really going at it out there, I think it's time to cut you both off,” Danny says, chuckling at your flushed faces.

Swishing your drink in his face, you say, “Sam already did, it's water.” Danny and Josh laugh at your clear disappointment.

“It’s probably a good thing he cut you off, wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself any further,” Jake chimes in, clearly proud of himself.

You ignore his statement, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you.

“Shut up, Jake.” Josh snaps back.

“Why should I? Are you really that desperate to get laid, that you have to grind on any guy that gives you attention?”

Dannys in Jake’s face in mere seconds, gripping him by his collar. “What the fuck did you just say to her?”

“You heard me.”

Danny rears back, every intention to beat him to a pulp. The other boys seem to be letting it happen, not putting a halt to it.

“Danny, stop. Leave him alone,” you demand.

“Y/n–”

“Stop Danny, unless you want to get kicked out of here.”

Not relenting, you glance at Danny, trying to plead with him. He reluctantly lets Jake go, walking away from him entirely.

Jake won’t make eye contact with you, looking anywhere else but at you.

“Fuck you, Jake,” you say storming off toward the bathroom.

The rest of the guys watch you intently, then turn right back to Jake after making sure you were safe. ___________________

Struggling to contain the tears, you look at your red splotchy face in the mirror. You clench your fist tightly, pacing around the small bathroom. Hearing a knock on the door, you start to tell them someone was in here, but whoever it is doesn’t let you finish.

“What do you want?”

Jake stands behind you, looking at you through the mirror. His face is ridden with guilt, but it doesn’t make you feel any better.

“I just wanted to apologize–”

“Don’t bother, I won’t forgive you.”

“Y/n, your being difficult, listen to me–”

Scoffing in disbelief, you spin around meeting him eye to eye.

“I’m being difficult, I’m being difficult. Are you fucking kidding me, Jake? Do you hear yourself?”

Cowering back at your words, he attempts to talk again, but you quickly shut him down.

“The fact that you have the balls to come in here, calling me difficult, after what you just said to me is truly insane. What is wrong with you? What the fuck did I ever do to you?” You breathlessly continue on, not caring what you look like. “I’ve tried and tried with you, and no matter what I do, you still treat me like shit. What happened that night at your house that made you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you, Y/n.”

“Ha! You have a special way of showing your love for me. If calling all your friends whores is your new thing, I think I'd rather not be your friend at all.”

“You're not a whore.”

“You're damn right I'm not. How do you expect me to respect you if–”

Without expecting it, you feel Jake’s lips on yours, cutting off your words. Tasting the alcohol on his breath, you abruptly shove him off and away from you.

“What is wrong with you?” you yell, tears streaming down your face.

“I don’t know why I did that, I'm so sorry.” Jake’s own eyes rim with tears. He tries to approach you again, but you shove past him, right out the bathroom door.

“Y/n, please wait. I’m so sorry,” he calls out to you, not caring about all the eyes on him.

Running up to Danny and Sam you begin to babble on. Your voice stutters and stumbles from the tears and hiccups spewing out of you.

“Take me home please, Sammy. Please take me home,” you softly beg, hugging onto Danny and Sam.

Without a second thought, they escort you right out of the bar, not even bothering to say goodbye. Danny gets the three of you in the car, starting the drive back to your place. Sam chooses to sit in the back with you, holding your crying form the whole way home.

Danny makes quick work of getting y’all home, toting you out of his car. Sam follows somberly behind the two of you, head hanging low. They help wash your ruined makeup off your face. Sam helps you change into comfy clothes, while Danny gets you some water and medicine for tomorrow morning.

The house is uneasily quiet, you hadn’t uttered a word since y’all left the bar. Danny gets you tucked, tightly in your bed. He whispers words that you don’t even attempt to hear, just closing your eyes entirely. They both go to leave your room, but your cracked voice stops them. “Please don’t go. Stay.”

“We aren’t leaving, honey. We're just going to sleep out in the living room,” Sam softly replies.

“Stay in here with me, please. I don’t wanna be alone.” “Okay, okay. We’ll stay, come on Sam,” Danny motions to Sam.

That night, Sam slept right next to you and Danny remained right behind him. The exhaustion of the night hits you, dragging you further and further into sleep.

_________________

Weeks have gone by since that horrific night in the bar. You made Danny promise not to say or do anything to Jake, even though you're still upset about the whole interaction. Instead of dwelling on it, you force yourself into long nights at work, not leaving any time to see anyone other than Danny.

He had said things in the studio had been quite hostile, since the blow out. Little did he know that things had gotten way worse, in that tiny bar bathroom. You choose not to tell him what Jake did in the bathroom. Having a feeling that this whole thing could lead to something worse for the band, you decide to keep it to yourself.

Sam has been debatably even more worried about you. You’ve been blowing him off, not wanting to do anything other than work or be at home alone. Feeling awful about ‘abandoning’ him, you finally agree to go out again.

They had promised Jake wouldn’t show, not even inviting him in the first place. A small sense of guilt crowded you, not wanting to be a reason for a fall out with his brothers. But, you couldn’t help the even smaller sense of victory that overwhelmed you. There was no way in hell, you wanted to deal with Jake tonight.

Going straight from work to the bar, you don’t bother to change your work clothes. Walking in, Danny meets you at the door, blocking your view of the room. Looking up at him, you can see the tense look in his eyes.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

“I’m sorry, I swear we didn’t invite him.”

Holding up a hand to stop him, you say, “It’s fine. He has just as much right to be here as I do.”

“He’ll leave if I ask him.”

“Danny, it’s fine. I’m fine, really.”

He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, clearly from overworking yourself for weeks now.

“Come on, drinks on me tonight.”

Shuffling your feet behind him, you follow without question.

They had gotten a table tonight, not wanting to play any games. The moment you walked up to the table, everyone got quiet. Of course, the moment you look up, Jake’s remorseful eyes are boring into yours.

He looks like he wants to say something, but you don’t give him any time.

“I need a drink.”

You saunter off towards the older bartender, jumping atop a barstool.

Meanwhile, the whole table’s eyes follow you, watching you silently.

“She looks awful.”

Sam slaps Josh’s chest, telling him to shut up.

“She hasn’t been sleeping well. Plus she’s overworking herself like crazy, never taking a break,” Danny replies. Jake shifts in his seat, the awkward tension obvious. He had showed up tonight in hopes of seeing you actually. After all the shit he put you through, not just that night, but all the times before. You deserved a real apology. If he apologized and you still wanted to never see him again, he would be okay with it. Well, the selfish part of him wouldn’t be alright, but if it's what you truly wanted, he would do it for you. Watching you from here, it was evident you hadn’t slept in god knows how long.

Your body was slumped against the bar-top, throwing back whatever was in your cup. Danny has never seen you like this before. Most of the time your sadness transformed into rage, and didn’t die down until you released it. Seeing you in such a somber state, triggers the overprotective side of Danny like no other. Glancing over at Jake every now and then, he makes it clear that he means business.

Jake doesn’t even pay Danny any attention, which is pretty stupid of him to do, but all he cares about right now is apologizing to you. It's selfish of him truly, to want to make amends with you, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. Jake had screwed up, not you.

The dimmed lights of the bar, drained your eyes of any color. Jake grimaced as he watched you order yet another drink, knowing tomorrow morning would be rough for you.

At this point, an hour or two had passed and you hadn’t made any move to go back to the table, allowing yourself to wallow in self pity for a while longer. You can still feel his eyes on you, completely ignoring the conversation around him. A part of you wants him to get it over with and come talk to you, even though that's the last thing you need right now. The other half of you wants to spin around, on your chair, and scream at him until he leaves forever. Throwing back yet another drink that's mainly vodka, you stumble off the barstool and right out of the bar's door.

No one seems to notice your absence, too consumed in their current conversation. Pacing across the barren sidewalk, your head snaps up when the door opens once again.

Jake stands in front of the closed door, frozen in his spot, not wanting to scare you off. Mockingly laughing at Jake’s ashamed and apologetic face.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

He remains a safe distance from you, not sure what direction this conversation will go.

“Y/n, I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, but–”

“You're right, I don’t.”

“Y/n please, please let me explain.”

“There's nothing to explain, Jake. Your a fucking asshole, I already knew that.”

He falters, already feeling lightheaded just talking to you. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I'm not looking for it. Just please give me a chance to explain.”

You grow deadly silent, not feeling up to arguing with him. Jake takes your silence as permission to explain.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said that night. I didn’t mean it, I really don’t know why I said it. I think– I think I was just jealous, jealous of you and Sam.”

“You were jealous of me and Sam dancing, so you decided to call me a whore in front of all our friends?” “And I’m sorry for it. It shouldn’t have even come out of my mouth. Cause you're not, you're so far from it.”

Tears start to build up in your eyes, not just from the drowning sadness, but from the burning rage building inside.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you either, that was way out of line. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so disgusted and ashamed of myself.”

“You know what you're selfish, Jake. Your really fucking selfish.”

“I know I am, I know–”

“No, you fucking don’t. You don’t get it, do you? I’ve been waiting for that my whole life. And you took it away from me to prove a point. Kissing is one thing, but kissing you was a big deal to me, Jake.” Tears are pouring down your face, the lump in your throat building with every word. “For years, I’ve hidden my feelings for you. Watching you jump from girl to girl, mourning the fact that it would never be me. I know, it's different for you and I can’t blame you for not feeling anything for me. I’m just Danny’s annoying little sister that just won’t leave you alone. Trust me, the message is clear, I promise to never bother you again. But, don’t you ever try to pull that shit with me again, I have fucking feelings too, Jake.” You can’t even believe the words that have left your mouth, all that alcohol gives you liquid courage or stupidity. Jake stands before you, eyes welling up with tears, utterly silent. Tired and slightly embarrassed with this whole situation, you make a move to walk away, but Jake reaches out for you, latching onto your wrist.

“Let go, Jake. I want to go home.”

“You're drunk, you can’t drive yourself home.”

“Fine, I’ll walk.”

Yanking your hand away from him, you start to stumble off.

“You live twenty minutes away, you can’t walk home, Y/n.”

“Watch me.”

“Y/n, let me take you home,” he jogs up to you, pleading. “Not a chance.”

“Please, just let me get you home safe, and I promise not to bother you again.”

Your eyes were bloodshot and your feet throbbed painfully. Exhaustion overrides your thoughts. Alcohol swimming throughout your body, leaving you woozy. “Fine.”

Without missing a beat, you slowly follow Jake to his car, parked down the street.

The car ride back to your place was deadly silent. You regret ever telling him about your feelings, already knowing what he’s thinking. It didn’t matter now, it could only get worse from here.

Pulling up to your house, Jake hesitantly follows after you inside. Your head is cloudy and you feel your body swaying as you walk further in your house. Is it possible for alcohol to have a delayed effect? Yes absolutely, that's why your body decides to betray you, totally forgetting how to walk.

Jake stumbles behind you, trying to catch you before you meet the floor. Hanging in his arms, Jake tugs you to your feet.

“I can walk on my own, thank you,” you snide.

Still walking along with you, Jake takes you to your bedroom.

“I know, just let me help this once.”

You groan, mumbling snarky comments under your breath, but allow him to help you anyways.

The sun had long set, leaving your room pitch black dark. Jake blindly searches for the switch to the lamp beside your bed. Turning it on, he places you on your bed gently. Laying flat on your back, you stick your feet out towards Jake, insinuating that you want me to take your shoes off. A slight smile graces his face at your exhausted state. He tugs your work shoes off of you, placing them on the floor next to you. Tucking yourself into bed, you turn facing away from Jake, already falling asleep.

Jake waits a moment, gazing at your sleeping form.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. Really, really sorry.”

Turning off the lamp, he makes his way out of your room. Starting to shut the door, he hears your cracked voice whisper softly.

“I forgive you, Jakey.”

__________________

“Oh god, how much did I drink last night?” replays in your mind as soon as you wake up the next morning.

The pounding headache and overwhelming nausea makes you curl further into the covers. Peeking an eye at the window, the sun shines high in the sky. It has to be mid-morning by now.

Everything from last night comes flooding back, causing you to wince, gritting your teeth. You're going to have to figure out how to never face Jake again. Maybe you should quit your job and move across the continent, then you would never have to see him again.

Rolling out of bed, you make the trek to the kitchen, needing to cure this hangover asap. You're still in your work clothes from yesterday, not even bothering to change at this point.

On the way to your kitchen, you notice a leg dangling from your couch.

Shit.

Looking over the side of the couch, you stare down at a sleeping Jake. You had thought he went home after dropping you off. Silently tip toeing, you continue to your kitchen regardless of the man on your couch.

________________

Jake wakes up to a loud clang from god knows where. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, he spots a familiar photo, sitting atop a nearby shelf. It's an old photo from years ago, of you with all four boys at one of their first shows.

Hearing sizzling of some sort, Jake knows you're awake. Not bothering to get off the couch, he lets you come to him instead, not wanting to upset you any further. A few minutes go by and he hears your feet padding across the hardwood floor.

Not expecting him to be awake, you freeze standing awkwardly in front of him.

“You're awake.”

“I am.”

Tapping your foot against the floor, you try to think of something to say, but he beats you to it.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n.”

“Jake, it's fine really. Let's just pretend none of it happened.”

Looking up at you from the couch, he says, “I can’t do that. It's not fair to you.”

“Jake, really it's fine. I’m over it.”

“Well I’m not. I can’t just pretend like I didn’t hurt you. I won’t.”

“I made you breakfast, it's in the kitchen when you're ready.”

You scurry off, heading back into the kitchen, not wanting to continue this conversation. Jake follows you, not giving up on talking to you.

Standing in the kitchen together, you both stare each other down.

“Don’t walk away Y/n. Talk to me please, get mad at me, yell at me. I don’t care what you do, but please don’t pretend what happened last night didn't actually happen.” “What do you want me to say Jake?”

“Help me make it up to you.”

You rub your hands across your face in distress. “I don’t know how.”

Jake walks up close to you, clasping your cold hands in his. Looking at him in shock, you surprisingly allow him to continue.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I'm asking for you to give me one chance to explain myself. Please, Y/n.”

Silence grew between you, but after a moment you finally spoke up.

“Fine, but you can explain yourself over breakfast.” Fixing both your plates, you take Jake out onto your back porch. You're going to need plenty of fresh air to handle Jake’s explanation. Jestering for him to start digging into his food.

“So...”

He looks up at you nervously, clearing his throat.

“I’m not sure where to start.”

“How about you explain how all of this got started, what did I do to make you push me away?”

“It wasn’t you, you didn’t do anything wrong. Do you remember that dinner party at Josh and I’s house, two years ago?”

Nodding at his question, his breath stutters.

“I had just gotten out of a relationship a week prior to that party, and Josh had insisted I attend it regardless of my situation. He just wanted me to get out of the funk I was in, but truthfully that was the last thing I wanted to do. When I had finally gathered the courage to walk out there, I saw you,” he continued, noting the gears turning in your head. “I don’t know what happened other than I was surprised to see you. It had been months since the last time I saw you, and something just changed about you. Not in a bad way of course, just made me rethink everything I knew about you.”

“I had changed. When I went away to school, I made an effort to do better, be better for myself. I focused on my mental health, I was ten times happier by the time you saw me again.”

“I could tell, your smile was radiant. I think my feelings changed for you that night. I stopped thinking of you as Danny’s little sister, and started thinking of you as Y/n. But we both know, had I ever told you how I felt Danny would have killed me. I also knew I was too screwed up, to ever deserve you. Especially now that I've made even more of a fool of myself.”

“Jake–”

“No really Y/n. I pushed you away to protect you, and partially myself. It was hard to be around you without feeling like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I never thought you would think of me as anything other than Sam’s older brother, that was until last night. Which is why I needed to explain myself so I could truly apologize. I had no idea what that kiss would have meant to you, and I wish I could do it all over again.”

“You're such a dumbass. Of course, I fell in love with you. Who wouldn’t? Did you screw up and make shitty decisions? Obviously, but your human Jake. I think it's going to take some time to heal whatever we are, but I want to if you want to.”

Facing each other, you take Jake’s hands in yours, looking him in the eye.

“I will spend my life making it up to you, Y/n.”

Rolling your eyes playfully at his comment, you tug him closer to you.

“How about you start now?”

Grinning at you, he pulls you into a gentle yet passionate kiss.

“Danny’s going to kill us.”

The both of you die out laughing, falling into each other.

____________________

Weeks had passed since you and Jake had reconciled, starting a flourishing relationship.

Jake was heaven to be with, constantly pampering you with love. The only issue you’ve had was Danny.

You had made it a point to talk to your big brother, explaining everything that happened with Jake, minus the bar bathroom situation. Explaining that you two had made up and were great now, so Danny could go back to being best friends with Jake. He was hesitant about it, mostly because he didn’t want you to push everything under the rug so he could be friends with Jake again.

Little did he know, you and Jake were way more than friends, spending almost all of your free time together. Jake was prepared to tell Danny about the both of you, ready to be pummeled by the taller man. But, you had decided that you just wanted to stay in your little bubble for a while longer. The both of you snuck around like two teenagers, kissing on each other every chance you get. So, when Danny showed up to your house unannounced early one morning, you couldn’t help the panic that set in. You did your best to distract your big brother, walking him into your kitchen.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. Has work really been that crazy for you?”

“Oh yeah, they have been running me wild lately,” you say, thinking back to how you’ve really been spending your time in bed... with Jake.

“My hard working little sister, ahh i’m so proud of you,” Danny says, chuckling.

“Uhuh, sure.”

Walking to the fridge, you offer him a drink.

“Is that Sam’s shirt? Are you two swapping clothes again?” you question.

“No, for your information, he stole this shirt from me. Actually now that you mention it, where did you find that shirt?”

Looking down at the shirt you're currently wearing, your eyes widen in fear.

“Uh, I think I bought it at some thrift shop downtown. Why?”

“It's funny, cause I think Jake has a shirt just like it.” Shrugging your shoulders at his words, you try to change the topic.

“Do you have to go to the studio today?”

“Yeah later on this afternoon, that's why I stopped by this morning actually. Are you free tomorrow night? The guys want to go out again and we want you to come with us.” You turn towards the sink, placing the dishes in the dishwasher. “Yeah, sure. I may be a tad bit late because of work, but I can go.”

“Have you talked to Mom about that wedding we have to go to?” you ask, but silence follows your question. “Danny? Did you hear me–”

Spinning around in his direction, a squeak leaves your lips at the scene before you.

Jake stands, eyes wide in the kitchen, only wearing his boxers. Danny stares in surprise, eyes flitting back and forth between the two of you.

“Dan, I can explain–”

He holds up a hand to silence you.

“I see why you wanted to smooth things between me and Jake now.”

Jake remains silent, not wanting to make things worse by talking. His eyes meet yours, silently asking what he should do.

Looking over at Danny, you start to plead with him, trying to make him understand.

A smile breaks out upon Danny’s face, laughter spewing out. Panic and confusion spread throughout you, not sure what to do.

“I already knew about you two.”

“You knew?”

“Y’all aren’t exactly sneaky, especially this one here,” he points to Jake, who is still frozen in place.

“What did he do?”

“You should check his phone screen some time.”

“So, you're not mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. But, if you screw up again, I won’t hesitate to beat your ass,” he says pointedly at Jake.

Still silent, Jake profusely nods in response. Danny gets up from his spot at the table, walking over to you. Pulling you into a hug, he pats your back.

“I’m happy for you.”

Pulling away from you, Danny walks over, grabbing his keys off the bartop. “I’m going to get out of here. It’s nauseating to think about Jake spending the night here.” Patting Jake on the shoulder, he continues his stroll to your front door.

“Love you, Dan,” you shout.

“Love you too, kiddo,” he says, shutting the door behind him.

Finally, it's just you and Jake alone in the kitchen, staring at each other.

“Well, that went better than I thought it would.”

“Honey, I’m in my underwear.”

“At least I wasn’t in my underwear,” you say reassuringly. Trotting over to Jake, you wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m so embarrassed,” he says, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

Whispering into his ear, “I bet I can make you feel better.” “You're unsustainable, woman,” his body tensed at your words.

Releasing your grip on him, you walk away towards your bedroom.

“Better get used to it, Jakey.”

Jake watched the sway of your hips, smiling at your words.

Reaching the doorway of your bedroom, you look over your shoulder at him. “You coming?”

Striding after you, he chases you into your bedroom. “Yes, ma’am.”

Giggles die out between you two, your cheeks hurting from your wide smiles. Wrapped up in your own little world with him, utterly blissful.

No matter what happens, you can always count on Jake to be by your side. The past remains forgotten and the present full of unyielding love. Who knows what the future holds, as long as you have Jake, you're okay with the uncertainty.

—————————————

Thanks for reading!! Hope you enjoyed:)))