#but for just one lifetime please let me pretend

[angelart67]

OK... So I don't have Instagram, which is probably because it is META owned & if I gave up my FakeBook, it makes no sense why I would just jump to another platform owned by the same entity... YES, I DO KNOW THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS... Only wrote it cause this makes me wish I could ONLY SEE the stuff that is WORTH IT on those platforms... LIKE THIS... Soooooo, that said, THANK GOD, you posted this on Tumblr as well... TY TY TY TY TY

MANY more ppl need to see n read this. BECAUSE, whatever rights or options or do-overs you think you have due you, this fact is MEDICALLY PROVEN...

Abortion STOPS A BEATING 💓🙏💔😇PLEASE don't murder God's Miracles...

OH WAIT... Before someone out there goes off on me because they just ASSume I have no stake in this, don't know what I'm talking about, or think I'm trying to kidnap their uterus... LISTEN UP... PLEASE, & I am NOT calling anyone out of their name, so let's see if we can possibly just stay on track with facts, for once, & not behave like bullies...

I do TY in advance for that...

I gave birth to 4 children, 2 were full term, 1 was "overbaked" family funny there, & 1 was extremely premature (especially for it being the 80's when they knew far less about premature infants) I also have suffered thru multiple miscarriages, & yep BIG DIFF between that happening to a woman & calling for an appt to end things on purpose... Every miscarriage I went thru made ME feel the same way I'd have felt, had I lost any of my living children (like stillbirth), they were ALL DEVASTATING LOSSES... Of my 4 who were born & lived, they are on this earth because my mama raised me to believe, once I am pregnant, planned OR unplanned, it is (in my heart & belief system) God's will, God's miracle, God's choice & MY DUTY... I don't wish to get into ANY debate with ANYONE over religion. Please NOOOO I've still not recovered from my recent political trauma, so have some mercy... So there I was in 4 different situations, at various times between 17 & 30 years old, in my doctors office, being given the news... This part pretty much kills me emotionally, because if only you could step into MY BELIEF SYSTEM for one little minute, please try, IF you were brought up that way, & fully believed that, to have a medical doctor (well 4 actually) not SUGGEST, but almost INSIST you go kill your unborn child you just found out about !!!!!

See... I happened to be born with a rare congenital disorder, which can transfer from mama to baby, BUT rather than even ASK ME about any CHOICE I might want to make, they was ready to pack me off to what I CONSIDER paid killers... If they had bothered to ask me, I could easily have shared that I believe in God, that for whatever reason, (I cannot know in this lifetime) allowed me to be born with this congenital disorder... so MY MIND & HEART reasons this way... out of my mom's 4 kids, only me & 1 brother had/have it, other brother & sister, nary a sign, just fine... Now God allowed me to have it, BUT HE also allowed me to get pregnant with my child... can't you just suppose (pretend again if you must) but if this ALL KNOWING GREATER POWER, I call God allowed BOTH of those occurrences to take place, MAYBE it was so I NEEDED to place my faith in Him? That is what was required, that is what was in my prayers, "Please Father God, just take care of my baby & help me be strong, whatever Your will." When I was a little kiddo, by the way, there was no medical test for my congenital disorder... back then, you got diagnosed by certain characteristics of the anatomy, having to do with skeletal system, cardiac system, vision, & muscular systems. So that is how my brother & I were diagnosed... nobody knows before my dear mom who else may have had it, because really nothing was specifically known 2 generations prior... Yes, my mom died when I was 17, as a direct result of this condition, in fact it was literally ONE WEEK before I discovered I was pregnant, so think again (as me) I am a teenager, just lost my mom last week, then found out I am pregnant, & a medical doctor (who knew those facts by the way) is suggesting I go murder what became my beautiful daughter, not to mention the mama of my ONLY grandchild... My daughter became my shining beam of sunlight & life, thru the death of my mom, helping me have good reason to get thru some of the most difficult days of loss I ever felt... So, anyone out there wanna clue me in about MY CHOICE... Well, that's OK, I only had ONE choice because my Bible instructs me, "Thou shalt not kill", & I assure you there is no clause or addendum attached to that COMMANDMENT that says

A. Unless this is inconvenient for you... B. Unless you have no faith in Me to care... C. Unless you are concerned about money...

Naaaaa... no such deals, not for me, & not for billions of other people raised with similar beliefs, in a menagerie of various religious belief systems... so is it that hard to believe that while there are SOME OUT THERE, I'm sure who simply don't believe in God, but are ONLY bent on stealing your RIGHTS... Don't you think there's a LOT who simply feel it is our God given duty to try & stop what we view as one of the worst crimes against humanity? Is it possible? Cause I'm nice, I swear, I'm not out to get anyone... but when I've spent 30 odd years working in the health industry, & I am so beyond aware of the medical facts, & ALL OF THEM in my eyes, PROVE LIFE FROM CONCEPTION but when I first learned about things like "partial birth abortion" I am HORRIFIED !!! & no, I'm not just saying everyone is going to carry almost to term, or to term in some instances, & then grab the long surgical scissors, (I mean the BRAIN SCRAMBLER) & by the way, that IS DEFINATELY NOT why we are born with a soft spot... but to me, if it's 6 weeks, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, months, no matter, it is the KILLING of a human who is completely unable to defend itself, NOBODY is giving these kids a choice, they call em slimeblobs, to be able to live with it IMO...

I've been there, I HAVE lived it, 1 of my 4 was (possibly) the result of rape, because that happened to me, just around the time I got pregnant... we just did not know until after birth when it could be proven one way or the other, & yes, THANK GOD she ultimately wasn't the rapists child, but I promise you as God is my witness, had I known THEN, like I wasn't in my relationship, so I KNEW... I still could never have ended her life... medical facts DO PROVE life begins at conception, the medical field simply use various terms, to show what point things are at, so even if embryo or fetus sounds like blob to you, it's not, not at all, & if you only be selfless for a little while, my point is beyond proven... NOTHING that isn't alive has a heartbeat or organs forming more each day, & the scientific list goes on...

My brother, who was also born with my same congenital issues, passed away in his early 40s as a direct result of the condition... so does that mean he had nothing to offer this world in his 4 decades? Nowadays, they developed a blood test that gives a definitive yes/no answer about what I live with. There is no more figuring it out from aspects of your anatomy... I've now surpassed the age my brother & mother passed away at, about to be 58 in the spring... I don't know how or why my Father in heaven has kept me going this long, I assure you, I am far from healthy, but I like to think I contributed a LOT of good, in my time here, & I'm blessed my mom didn't just think, "Aww screw it, she might be born all messed up." & do me in... Had that happened, this world would also be (probably) without any of my 3 siblings, their children, grandchildren & and great-grandchildren, without my 4, & without my grandson... & By the way, my kids had the blood test that now exists, NONE of them have it... so I'd have also murdered them pointlessly, had I listened to the doctors...

I'm done, I pray I made an impact with SOMEBODY SOMEWHERE, I pray I at least make others think & reason things through...

God Bless & Keep You, & may He protect those who can't protect themselves, 🙏😇

[kaybreezy3000]

The Reason ~A Five Hargreeves/Female Reader Insert request (Complete)

Rated Mature for Explicit Sexual Content (20k word one-shot with 10 fast paced chapters)

Anonymous asked:

Please just give me the smuttiest enemies to friends to lovers, with some breeding kink PLEASEEE 🧍‍♀️🙏🏻

KayBreezy's reply: Okay. 😂 Done. See Below to read this wild adventure.

~Tags and Warnings: feral Five, soft Five angst, family fluff, flirting, humor, rough sex, story with plenty of smutty smut but it needs to build to get there so be patient and it will pay off, Five being wonderful and awful, smart female reader insert, Diego is a bomb ass bro, canon compliant plus extra addressing of shit they didn't bother to and I wish they would have, breeding kink, enemies-to friends-to lovers, some tags left off to keep you on your toes, season 5 TUA

~Very Important Note: DUE TO SPOILERS, DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED S4 This story starts where season 4 ends and reads like a season 5 start. It is canon compliant, letting you take what we were left with on the show, DISREGARDING the controversial sexual relationship that happened, or not. That's the big thing with this one. This is written so the reader can interpret that stuff as they want to. There are only two mentions in this that even come remotely close into that territory and those parts can also be looked at as Five simply feeling awful and not because that even happened. He has plenty of other reason for his sadness, why they felt the need to give him more and end them all, I will never know. 😭 I personally have always seen a special bond with Five and Lila, only not at all the way it played out in the show, and we will see some of my version of their admiration of each other in this one, and I did it to honor both these characters I love. It is also important to say, this is in no way written in a way that is triggering for those who hated what happened on the show. This is written to give them all something better. That was my point, and to try to do this request some justice. ❤️I hope you enjoy. Sending peace and love to all the beautiful TUA/FIVE fans.

THE REASON

Chapter one: The Beginning of the End

Slipping away, there was no reason to fight anymore.

Sensations Five couldn’t put into words overwhelming him, the glowing pulsation of The Cleanse began to cover them, first trapping their feet, then building up around their legs with terrifying speed.

As the pressure pushed at his layers of clothing, naturally, panic set in.

His mind screamed, DO SOMETHING!!!

He would have laughed at the irony along with his family if it wasn’t all so awful. Here they were cracking jokes when they were about to die, and there he was, the massive lump of guilt in his throat trying to kill him quicker than the looming mass of elemental alien goo.

Five’s entire life, he’d thought he was the strong one, that he could save them, but boy had he been wrong.

Even before this shit storm splattered the fan, he knew he should have been starting over, but he’d done very little in the way of living, or being there for any of them.

He pretended he was fine, but he wasn’t.

He was alone, like he always was, but he was too stubborn to admit how empty his life was.

Instead, he blocked all that out by playing CIA agent, foolishly not noticing that the people who’d hired him were in on all this.

Then, when it all went from bad to worse, Five ran from it. Once with Lila as they traveled the train to insanity together, and then again after that, when they’d finally made it back and he realized they couldn’t beat the horrible death blob Ben and Jennifer had become.

It took a lifetime to learn it, but there was no running from this, or the unforgivable things he’d done only to end up with nothing.

Heart sinking to unfathomable depths of despair, unable to look at their faces, or the thing consuming them, Five looked to the ceiling instead. Through the highest windows of what in another time had been their childhood home, the world outside was righting itself, the fire of rebirth was hard at work, correcting things the right way this time.

There was no reason for his suffering.

No reason for any of this.

His breath catching in his throat, the mass of destruction that was swallowing them crept up Five’s neck, seeping under his sweat drenched collar.

Shutting his eyes to block out the horror of what was happening, he forced himself to think about why this was the only way out.

“What shattered the timeline?” he’d asked the Five that greeted him at the interdimensional deli filled with different versions of him.

“Not what. Who,” his cocky doppelgänger replied while pushing a stray piece of hair out of his face.

They were 145,142 times trying to stop the apocalypse, doomed to save or destroy the world, over and over… ad infinitum.

This would go on forever. Those crazy bastards weren’t willing to rise above their own wants and needs, but he was.

Eliminate the Marigold by ending all of them, and you get no more cycle of apocalyptic destruction. Simple as that.

Despite Five’s steadfast acceptance of this fact, a rush of air crawled out of his gaped mouth, the sound of it gut-wrenchingly pathetic even to his own ears. His lower lip trembled as The Cleanse reached his chin. He jerked his head higher to get away from it, but it was no good.

He felt Lila squeeze his hand. He squeezed back, a tear slipping down his cheek, immediately eaten away by the sludgy mass burying them.

I’m sorry.

He was, for everything, but he couldn’t say it, not anymore. He couldn’t even breathe.

The taste of death covered his lips, filling his nostrils. A familiar crackle of static energy zipped up and down his spine even though he hadn’t summoned it, like his powers had life of their own, begging him to stop this.

Five opened his eyes one last time, a spike of adrenaline needlessly alerting him to the fact that he was about to suffocate from the disgusting booger-like substance pushing into his mouth.

Silently crying out, The Cleanse choked off his airway.

His body, insistent on his need to breathe, helplessly drew in the otherworldly gunk.

He was drowning.

He began to thrash.

Above, ash began to fall from the ceiling. Five felt the same desperation he had a lifetime ago while standing outside the burning gates of his home.

Like then, all he could think about was finding a way back to save them. 

Just before the wave of glimmering slime slipped over Five’s head, a shadowed figure moved into his view on the second-floor balcony. The person propped their elbows on the railing. Extending their left hand, they began dangling a pocket watch, slowly swinging it back and forth on its silver chain.

As if dying wasn’t already shaking Five to the core, the ornately engraved disk they had looked exactly like a pocket watch he kept in a basket of broken timepieces back in his boyhood bedroom at the original Umbrella Academy.

He collected those discarded pieces of junk, trying to make their fragile parts work again because he saw something of himself in their busted balance springs and wheels, beaten and used, pushed aside, never able to prove to a dad that didn’t love him that he was good enough.

Reginald was right, he wasn’t.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” the young stranger said, as if reading Five’s thoughts. He angled his face into the light, the pouted line of his lips pulling to the side, mimicking one of Five's smiles almost perfectly. “For all this to work out, you had to get here.”

A faint swirl of blue energy lit up the boy’s hands as the floor rumbled under their feet. Chunks of the roof fell, but their pale green eyes wrinkled at the corners even more, not a hint of fear in them.

“I’d do this one for you, but I can’t,” he furthered. “As you always told me, when it comes to time travel, you don’t mess with the loops, and this is one hell of a temporal causality loop you set up.”

The dimple in the boy’s cheek deepened.

“No, you. No, me,” he calmly explained. “And that would mean this conversation wouldn’t be happening, resulting in you letting this end and game over for us.”

Pulling the old pocket watch back up, the boy popped it open, checking the time before he looked back down at Five through the mess of sun-kissed hair falling over his eyes.

“You know what to do. It’s time, Dad.”

He dropped the watch, the glint of metal sailing down into the abyss.

Lack of oxygen about to make him lose consciousness, The Cleanse covered Five’s shock filled eyes.

Getting crushed, he no longer felt the hands that had been holding his.

They were all gone.

As true terror set in, the last of the boy’s words echoed in his mind.

It’s time, Dad…

Chapter Two: Walk in the Park

Not even aware he was doing it at first, Five pulled at that undefinable feeling inside him that let him open doors no one else could. Within a second, the strings of time gave in to his demand, illuminating the darkness.

An explosion of violent light burst outwards, the force of it ripping his skin inside out, or it felt that way. At that point, Five wasn’t sure if he was still intact, or not. All he knew was, he’d given everything he had left, opening one final portal, not even accounting for the destination.

Flung into a tornado of time and space knitting itself back together into the one true timeline, Five landed in the only place he could.

Coming down fast, blindly flailing, he slammed down on top of a picnic table, sending the food airborne that Lila’s parents had just laid out for lunch.

Face smashed into what he was pretty sure had been a cake, Five let out a whimpered groan.

Fresh air ruffled his frosting coated hair, the white sugar standing out in stark contrast to his chocolate-colored strands.

Untwisting his legs, his dress shoe accidentally knocked into Claire’s can of orange soda, tipping it over. The fizzy mess started pouring out all over Lila’s feet as she glared at him.

Five rapidly blinked his eyes, still not sure if what he was seeing was real.

Everything was so bright, a canopy of green and blue.

Orange and yellow marigolds filled the landscaped gardens.

Upbeat music played somewhere in the distance.

“What do you know, the flying fart squirrel decided to join us after all,” Lila dryly noted as she wiped a piece of potato salad off her forehead, flicking it at Diego.

Unfazed by Five’s fumbled landing, Diego picked the mayo covered slop off his shirt, sticking it in his mouth as he rolled his eyes at her. “Come, on babe. Fivvv nev-lets us dow. I nn-ew-he-be-here,” he mumbled while reaching out to lend him a helping hand.

Once on his feet, Five swayed, but Diego held on, keeping him steady as he took in the full extent of his shell-shocked appearance. “Rough day, old man?” he asked, a look of worry bending his silly dad-stash into a frown.

“You could say that,” Five croaked.

He reached up, his trembling fingers brushing the ghost of stubble darkening his jaw.

“Thank God I’m not twelve years old again,” he breathed.

Diego and Lila looked at each other, eyes wide.

“Five…?” Diego questioned. “Since you still can’t calculate your decades long jumps worth a shit, why don’t you just use one of your briefcases to commute.”

“Uncle Five is here!” Grace shouted, abandoning the game of frisbee she was playing with Luther and Sloane. Bolting over, her arms flung around Five’s waist. “Did you bring me anything?” she asked, beaming up at him.

Five was speechless.

Her twin siblings screeched as they rolled around on a fuzzy blanket filled with toys. Behind them, camped out on the grass, or horsing around not far away, Five saw his entire family, and all the people from their past that they had loved and lost.

A few yards away, Dave was sitting with his back against a tree, Klaus lying next to him with his head in his lap.

Eudora, Sissy, little Harlan, Elliot, Ray, Ben and Jennifer…

Five kept counting.

To his left, Agnes and Hazel walked by, bird watcher guide in hand.

Even the Sparrows' faces dotted the crowded scene, the one Five didn’t recognize with blue hair oddly reminiscent of a non-cube version of Christopher.

“Holy shit,” he gasped.

With the buzz of the older kids laughing at their funny Uncle Five and his ruined suit, and the rest of his family looking at him like he needed to be locked up, the fear that everyone close to him was about to be wiped off the face of the Earth hadn’t even come close to wearing off. And that feeling only got worse when he spotted The Handler sitting on a nearby park bench.

Starting to walk towards her, he reached into his inside jacket pocket to pull out his CIA issued handgun, but it wasn’t there.

Getting nothing but a handful of Jello, Five ran right into Herb. In a domino effect, the smaller statured man started teetering backwards.

“Youch!” you cried as his heel dug into your opened toed dress shoe.

Everything you were holding slipped out of your hands as they flung out to break your fall.

Before hitting the dirt, your skirt flew up, giving everyone a show.

Looking about as thrown as you, Five looked down at the Temps Commission insignia on the journal you dropped, then the pocket watch that had fallen next to it.

He cursed.

Clenching his hands so hard it looked like he might hurt himself, he started shaking his head side to side. “Where is he?” he growled.

“Who?” you fired back at him, trying to get up.

“That kid!”

“What kid?”

Before Herb could say anything to add to your confused reply or find his handy-dandy Commission issued time stopper, Five took off again.

Scrambling to your feet, you reached out to catch his arm. He swung around with a snarl and shoved you to the ground again, then he blinked away, reappearing right behind The Handler, ready to choke her with his bare hands, the only thing stopping him being the lady coming past, pushing a baby stroller.

Seeing the real Grace’s smiling face, so much like that of his robot mother, Five looked even more manic.

“Stop!” Herb frantically cried out, realizing that something was off more than Five lacking any spatial awareness.

Five didn’t stop, and neither did you, clumsily coming after him, your dress shoes slipping on the grass, you yelled, “If you do this, you’re going to regret it!”

To your relief. Five lowered his hands.

You came to a stop in front of the Handler, your hands coming to your knees as you tried to catch your breath. She looked from you, to the crazed young man behind her.

She lowered her cell phone. “Can I help you?”

“No. Sorry,” you huffed, quickly storming around the park bench to take Five by the back of his food covered suit jacket.

“She doesn’t know who you are!” you whisper yelled at him as you towed him away from her. “What in the world are you thinking?”

Five angrily narrowed his eyes at you.

“This was your plan!” you barked, to which he equally angrily jerked his shoulder away from your hand.

Apparently, he wasn’t going to let you corral him back towards Herb, but he wasn’t opposed to stomping over there himself, which was fine by you, so long as he did, and started to calm his cake-covered ass down.

“Glad to have you back,” Herb nervously chuckled once Five was in earshot. “Sorry about that.” He glanced at The Handler who was happily chatting away on her cell phone again. “I’m sure some of this is still hard for you, but everyone affected by this needed to be in close proximity to perform all the alternations you wanted. This picnic took some time for us to set up, but we got it done. As far as they know, you all have been back here for weeks and we had nothing to do with this party.”

Five’s cold gaze didn’t falter.

After picking up the items he made you drop, you handed him his journal, the one that said to give it to him as soon as he arrived.

“I don’t want that,” he spat, refusing to take it from you.

“Maybe it would be better if we took this conversation back to The Commission,” Herb offered.

“Like hell it would,” Five snapped, “There is no way I am going back to that shitshow of manipulative sadists.”

“You are the leader of our shitshow of manipulative sadists,” you retorted.

Ignoring that and your offended expression, he came at you, a flash of light blinding you as he snatched the watch out of your hand. Reappearing a few yards away, he hissed, “Who are you and who gave you this!”

Now you were the one narrowing your eyes.

Introducing yourself, minus the usual extended hand in case he tried to bite it off, you said, “I serve as your Co-Chair, and the watch was left with your files that were given to me when I was hired. And… it is not broken anymore because I fixed it for you. You’re welcome.”

“Why would I hire you?”

“Because you clearly needed my help,” you replied, your tone as acidic as his.

“Yeah, right,” he barked, his wild eyes suddenly fixating on you in a very ungentlemanly way.

Realizing that when he’d flung you the second time, your shirt had come undone by a few more buttons than you’d normally allow, you crossed your arms over your chest, using his journal like a shield to protect your boobs from his glare. “Look,” you sniped back. “I get that for you, some of this might be a little confusing because you’ve only been back for more than a few minutes real time, but for Herb and I, our day at the park had been much longer than that, stopping time over and over to correctly wipe and reset each of your family members you brought back. So… can we just get this thing moving?”

“You better not touch my family,” Five warned.

“With Optogenetics, cation-selective channel rhodopsin are used to excite neurons and inhibit neuronal activity, so touching isn’t exactly how we’d say memory alteration works, but you already know that. You are the one that left the notes that led to me inventing the pain free process to do it. Why are you being so difficult?” you questioned.

“Because…” he childishly seethed.

“Because?”

“That’s right,” he continued, his face contorting as his jaw muscles repeatedly tensed. “You throwing out big words means nothing. I’ve been fed a lot of lines of bullshit over the years, and I have no reason to trust a bimbo who’s wearing tiny pink underwear that would make a stripper blush! Or Herb! Or anyone that works at the place that ruined my life and millions of others!”

You smiled, and it wasn't the nice kind of smile. “Name calling? Really?”

“This has set up written all over it!” he yelled.

A lump of frosting fell off his head, landing on one of his expensive dress shoes. Fingers twitching at his sides, he was about to go ballistic.

In his notes spelling it out how this was going to go down, the Five of the future that hired you had written nothing about the possibility that the him now would have no clue what was going on, but it was clear he didn’t. Fortunately, there were protocols to handle situations like this-his protocols.

“We didn’t ruin anyone’s lives. That is the opposite of what we are about, but if you aren’t willing to come back and talk about that, I guess we are done here,” you said, raising an unimpressed brow.

“Sweetheart, I was done so long ago, you have no fucking idea.”

After condescendingly insulting you again, Five turned to check on his family. 

None of them were concerned, and you knew they wouldn’t be. The moment he walked away, their attention was back on entertaining the kids.

“Do you want to do it, or me,” you quietly asked Herb, who looked over at you, looking about as tired as you’d ever seen him.

“I’ll lug this thing,” he sheepishly offered, picking up the huge Commission briefcase you used to get there.

You reached in your pocket, calling out to Diego. “Hey, guys! Something came up. Five is needed back at the office.”

Five started to turn back, readying for a fight.

Sticking him in the neck with a fast-acting sedative before he could fully swing, his legs buckled at the knees.

“You didn’t jus-st-ffffah-kkkk," he slurred, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Chapter Three: The Founder

A line of drool running out of his mouth, Five flopped over the side of the settee he was passed out on. Groggily looking around from his new position on the hard marble floor, he saw the lights were dimmed and there was only the slightest bit of daylight on the horizon outside the heavily draped windows.

He had no idea how long he’d been out, but he knew where he was.

This was 1955 and these were the crown molded walls of AJ Carmichael’s office, then The Handler’s, but evidently this office wasn’t either of theirs anymore because the polished plaque sitting on top of the old mahogany desk read otherwise.

“Five Hargreeves, Director… Well, I’ll be damned,” he breathed.

Getting to his feet, head spinning, he swallowed, his throat thick.

On the small side table next to him, he noticed the pocket watch he’d stolen back from you and a glass of water next to it with a pink post-it note stuck to it that read, Drink Me.

“Yeah, right. I’ll probably shrink like Alice in Wonderland,” he grumbled, remembering how you stuck him in the neck with a syringe, at this point equating you to an evil version of the white rabbit, forcefully leading him back into a nightmare.

Running a hand through his hair, seeing no one there to ambush him, Five spotted his neatly polished shoes placed under the edge of the couch. There was also a fresh suit, with the addition of a pair socks and black briefs laying on one of the adjacent chairs.

Five looked down at the slumped blanket around his ankles, then his hands.

He still had on his undershirt and underwear, a pair exactly like the ones on the chair, but that was it. He’d been cleaned up, no more frosting anywhere.

Kicking free of the slumped blanket at his feet, he stomped over to his desk, eyes on the journal laying there and the slightly smashed piece of cake that had another post-it note next to it that said, ‘Once you’ve had your nap time, and snack time is over, put your big-boy pants back on and read this over for me, please.’

Looking at the door, his expression soured even more.

Picking up the leather-bound book, he recalled that you said it was his, but he didn’t remember it. Then again, this wasn’t the first time he’d left something for himself to find later.

Shoving memories of the subway station out of his mind, Five opened it, his finger running along the date and time noted at the top of the first page. There was no denying he’d written it.

Slowly sitting down, his eyes moved along, reading the detailed directions explaining all the things you were supposed to do before he got there. Things like making sure certain people from his past only remembered what they needed to remember, and that meant for some, like his ex-supervisor, some remembered nothing.

For his family, their memories were more complicated because they were a part of things that needed to be remembered, but in clipping bits of time from their minds, he stated it would allow them the easiest transition.

Further diving into this new reality, Five read that many of the superpowered Hargreeves, including some of the Sparrows, worked for him and were involved in a new initiative of non-kill orders for all time corrective actions.

They’d been wiped. Just like you said. The device used to do it, one he told you to make, and it sounded a lot like the one Reginald used to erase the memories of how the original Ben died.

That happened. It all did. Five remembered it and his notes said the others would too- for the most part.

The past still happened because it had to, but that didn’t mean everyone needed to be burdened with the heavier traumas of it. That idea was a core value stated in The Temps Commission’s original doctrine, also written by him, conveniently there on the desk for him to go over.

All of it confirmed what you said. He was the Founder of The Commission; the same place that let him waste away in the apocalypse for forty years and then go through the rest of this crap. Apparently, that cruel joke didn’t just come to fruition in the Sparrow timeline spin off.

It was madness.

Somehow, his family survived, powers intact. He got them out of there at the last second, with none of them aware that anything odd was happening when you’d come up to them at the park, waving your specially calibrated brain wave eraser in front of their smiling faces.

You were an invited guest to their event and so was Herb. They knew you and trusted you, just like he supposedly did, only he didn’t.

Hearing a soft knock at the door, Five tensed.

“Come in.”

Herb timidly stepped inside, leaving the door ajar to the empty hallway. He lowered his chin and shook his head as if he already knew that what he was going to say was something Five wouldn’t want to hear. “That was a bumpy start,” he began. “We didn’t see that coming and we are so sorry about that. If we-”

“How long have you known about this,” Five sharply cut in.

“As you’ve read, that’s complicated,” he carefully replied.

“Herb,” Five sighed, his hand rubbing the worry line between his eyes. “All I have ever wanted was for this to end, but I don’t-"

Herb held up his hand stopping him. “I know you don’t want this. We all know what you’ve given to this place already, but we need you. With what you are capable of, your unique skill set makes you a perfect choice to run this organization.”

Herb paused, hoping Five understood that but he looked as unconvinced as before.

“This doesn’t have to be forever,” he tried. “The board just wants reassurance, and with you at the helm, it’s clear that people here will feel more comfortable about this transition. We no longer focus on preventing complications from the other timelines breaking off because there is only one timeline now. You took care of that by allowing The Cleanse to happen. Now we are here to ensure someone is present in case anything like this threatens us again. This is a big change for everyone,” he clarified, as if Five didn’t already grasp how big this was.

“And Reginald?” he quietly questioned, his troubled eyes pulling downward.

“Gone with the Cleanse,” you answered, coming into his office, “but as far as anyone else knows, he died years ago. You were there to spread his ashes. Many things are the same as before, but with the addition of the things that changed during the last five years you were gone, only you do not work for the CIA, even if that’s the cover we are using.”

You strolled over, sitting down next to Herb.

“The element your father’s wife inadvertently created as a byproduct of producing the thing they called ‘marigold’ is also gone. The marigold is still in all of you,” you furthered.

“That alien was not my dad,” Five tartly retorted, “and your presence here is not needed.”

When you didn’t move, he pointed to the door.

You crossed your legs, eyeing Five wearily. Putting a hand on your friend’s shoulder, you said, “You can head home, Herb. You haven’t slept in days.”

He smiled. “Neither have you.” He looked to Five, tiredly getting up. “Please listen. She’s smart. That is why you hired her.” 

Five’s brows furrowed as he took in the weight of what Herb said. He looked down at his lap, but the second the older looking man left the room, he looked back up, eyeing you with the same contempt. “No syringe?” he coldly dangled.

“No pants?” you countered.

He cocked his chin. “Why bother? You already violated me while I was unconscious. I figured this way if you came at me again; there’d be less in the way if you really wanted to go hard stomping on my dick.”

“You are the only one here being combative, but if you want me to stomp on your dick, keep it up, I will, but I’d much rather finish this debriefing, filling you in on anything else you might not recall, which sounds like everything you did to get here from this point on.”

“Time loops are a bitch, and you are…” He didn’t finish, instead he picked up his fork, putting his focus on stabbing his piece of cake into even more of a disaster.

“You don’t like me. Got it loud and clear,” you said, “but after meeting you, I must admit, I don’t like you either. Before this, I admired you, but you are nothing like the person I thought you were based on all the great things I read in your files.”

“Well… Most things look better on paper,” he sneered.

“Look… How about I just do what I am here to do, and you do the same?” you offered. “Cut the lines of bullshit you hate so much? Because that’s what this pissing match is. Waste of time bullshit.”

“Fine.”

“As I was about to say,” you started again, laying out your sheets of chemical equations for him to follow as you explained. “For Reginald’s dearly departed wife, in making the one element that also gave a fast track to your births, and then the other not so nice one Jennifer got stuck with, she essentially shot a machine gun at a needle in a haystack, but the bullet and needle didn’t fuse together completely, and you just witnessed the ricochetted result of that when they did finally fuse with Ben and Jennifer getting together, the bad part of that synthetic reaction vanishing forever in a timeline that is no more. Story done.”

“So, you are saying we weren’t the cause of all this?” he asked, still not believing it.

“No,” you said. “Abigail’s bad science was and that really wasn’t that hard to figure out. It only took me a few days once I was given the top-secret files you left behind for Herb to find in your Paradox Proof bunker.”

“That’s impossible. I’m the only one that can get in there,” Five argued.

“Not exactly,” you calmly disagreed. “After Dallas, when Herb was holding the temporary position of Chairmen of the Board, he gained access to many interesting things you hide around here, including a glass eye you had made that was a replica of yours.”

“The retinal scan,” Five murmured under his breath.

“Yes. You were very busy at some point in the future, and lucky us, everything you did paid off.”

Saying nothing, Five didn’t look like he felt lucky, but when he didn’t question you more about the bunker, you moved on.

“Another thing you probably don’t remember figuring out, is that when it comes to thinking you were all only born because of the release of the Marigold on our planet, that isn’t true. You all would have been born regardless. All your mothers were already pregnant, only days along and none knew it yet. You all had fathers and mothers, just like the rest of us, only with you, the second that alien dusting of orange entered our atmosphere, it needed to find a host and you were it, the perfect jump off point for a miracle.”

“The Umbrella Academy?” he asked, dismissing your explanation about his parents, like it didn’t matter that he wasn’t just alive because of aliens playing God.

“It happened. You were all acquired by Reginald, same as before,” you continued. “The world knows about most of you like they always did, and they are aware you’re back, the details of your disappearance understood to be a complication due to your ability to spatially jump. The running story is you were frozen between jumps, not that you’d jumped to the future. We don’t want the entire world knowing about time travel and your ability to do it, or ours.”

“So, there you have it,” Five scoffed.

“Dumbed down, yes, but I thought since you’ve had a hard day, you’d appreciate that.”

“Are you one of us?” he asked as he studied you, for the first time his eyes not darting away from yours when you determinedly refused to look away.

“No,” you half laughed, half scoffed. “As you can see,” you waved a hand in front of yourself, “I am not the same age as your siblings, but I suppose when it comes to you, that means little, so fair question. Unlike you, I am the age I appear to be, which I’m guessing is not much off from you physically at this point. I was plucked out of college to come here, and since then, I devoted my life to being here to help you in any way I can, and I assure I am qualified to do it otherwise—”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t have hired you,” he finished for you. Hand at his mouth, anxiously edging his teeth across his thumbnail, Five’s eyes grew distant again.

Silence filled the room.

“We have a meeting with the board in the morning. I will drop off the agenda early enough for you to go over it beforehand,” you said, pushing your chair out to get up.

You waited a moment for him to look up, but he didn’t, so you headed to the door, turning just before you left.

“This is over,” you said, the anger in your voice completely gone. “At least you can take solace in that.”

You shut the door behind you.

Still seeing the delicate features of your face overlapping those of the mysterious boy on the balcony who’d looked like him, only not, Five mentally kicked himself.

“This isn’t over,” he breathed.

Chapter Four: I’m the Daddy Here

By the next day, when Five’s brothers dropped into his office, he had shadows under his eyes and his young bones were aching like his body really was 70 years old.

Sitting in front of him, next to Klaus, Diego stretched his arms up over his head, as he said, “Dude, you still have your shitty apartment from your CIA days to crash at, so why does it look like you’ve been pacing your secret lair all night?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know Diego,” Five threw back. “Maybe I forgot I had a place to call my own and I did pace in here all night? Unlike you, I have bigger things on my mind than which Hawaiian shirt I’m going to wear to work.”

“You look so Miami Vice,” Klaus said, giving Diego a high five, before he moved his attention to Five. “What are you whining about, man? We are riding on a gravy train with biscuit wheels.” He threw his arms around like they should look around him. “We won!”

Five lips pursed tighter.

Klaus’s jaw dropped as he looked over at Diego. “What… We didn’t win? We’re all in the void?”

Diego laughed. “For a someone with the powers of divine entity you sure are—"

“We won,” Five interrupted, bringing them back to the point. “Or I should say, we will, but not unless I finish this.”

“You did finish this. We are here and life is good,” Diego pointed out, moving on to what he felt the real problem was. “Are you happy, Five? And what does that even mean to you outside of making sure we all keep breathing? Maybe the answer to that is why you’re still struggling. Apocalypse addiction is a-“

“Fuck you, Diego. I don’t need one of your psych ward therapy sessions you and Lila get off on. I need to have a kid! If I don’t, we will all cease to exist and there will be no do over this time and that is very bad!”

“How do you know that?” he questioned, his amused smile still proving that he thought they were just having one of their usual lectures with Five about him needing to get out more.

“Shit. Is it hot in here?” Five complained, yanking at his collar.

“Earth to Five,” Diego rammed him, “I asked you a question.”

Having loosened his tie enough to feel like the walls weren’t closing in on him, Five testily said, “I know this, Diego, because a kid that looked a lot like me was there just before The Cleanse finished its job, and he called me dad. If he hadn’t been there and said what he did, verbally slapping me into doing something, we wouldn’t be here.”

“What?!” Klaus bellowed. “No way! You’re a dad!”

“No,” Five sighed. “I will be a dad in the future-maybe.”

“Maybe!? Why didn’t you tell us this!” Diego yelled, nearly falling out of his chair.

“I am telling you,” Five replied.

“Yeah, sure,” Diego huffed. “Now you are. And why does your kid have powers and mine and Allison’s don’t?”

“Wow. It’s just like Marty McFly in Back to the Future.” Klaus lifted his hand, checking to see if it was disappearing yet.

Five tiredly smiled at him. “It’s not at all like that. Time loops don’t work that way. If we evaporate, it will be instantaneous, and at this point, I have no idea how long I have to prevent it. There will be no warning.”

“Time loops shhh-mime loops,” Diego said, running his fingers over his mustache. “You know we don’t understand any of that shit. But hey, this doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Your nuts are full of superpowered swimmers. You should be excited.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Excitement is not exactly what I’d call what I am feeling. If I don’t produce a magical progeny, none of the things I have done will matter. We all die anyway. Case in point, this is a bad thing.”

“Shoot,” Klaus whistled. “If you’d known this years ago you could have spent way less time privately polishing your palm and instead been out trying to impregnate the world with your superpowered sperm.”

Five groaned. “That wouldn’t have worked, because it needs to happen now. After The Cleanse and the time situation was fixed.”

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Klaus insisted. “You’re a stud. Get out there and have some fun.”

“And if it’s having kids you are worried about, they are both the best and worst thing that can happen to you,” Diego added. “I would know. Having three of them putting their sticky little fingers on all our shit all the time isn’t awesome, but creating them was fun.” He nudged Klaus. “This one time when Lila and I were in the back of Wanda we—"

“Not another word!” Five yelled.

“Whatever, man,” Diego chuckled. “You just need to see the bright side. Your kid was trying to help you and did.” He cleared his throat. “When it comes to Dolores, you can beat the meat with her all day but you’ll never beat the real th-“

“Please stop,” Five groaned again, burying his head in his hands.

Nodding his head in agreement, Klaus grinned hopefully. “I think what Diego is trying to say is having a breathing lady has its benef—"

“We’re done!” Five snapped, as he sprung forward. “If you don’t zip it, I’m going to blink you downstairs to the incinerator and lock you in there.” Slamming his index finger down on his desk, pointing at his gigantic desk pad calendar, he grinned maniacally. “And what do you know, it’s garbage day! You won’t be swimming in last week’s rotting tuna salad for long.”

“You’d never do that to us.”

“Really, Diego? You want to test that?”

Five’s brothers glanced at each other, eyebrows raised, like testing that wasn’t such a bad way to spend their afternoon.

“Five—"

“No, Klaus! Like I told Luther. I’M THE DADDY HERE! I am done entertaining you idiots. Get out!”

“Settled down,” Diego laughed. “We’re just trying to help you see that this isn’t so bad. And with the kid thing, I love mine and you do too. Speaking of which, it would be nice if their favorite uncle babysat them more often. Lila and I haven’t had a night out in a while.”

“I babysit,” Five defended.

“Not enough,” Diego shot back, pointing Five’s ballpoint pen at him.

Reaching forward, Five swiped it away. “Deigo, if I came over more often so you dipshits could go out and do disgusting things in your van, then you’d be dealing with more than three sticky-fingered monsters.”

Diego glanced at Klaus, then back at Five, smirking. “Say what you will, but I know you love being an uncle. The mountain of stuffed animals each of the girls has is proof of that.”

Tipping his weight back in his chair, Five folded his hands over his lap, wearily eyeing his brother. “I am not wrong,” he said, ignoring the point about his nieces and how much he enjoyed spoiling them. “You still have no idea how this baby making thing works and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll be complaining about baby number four on the way and how you already have no room in your house for all the people living there.”

Diego scowled. “Hey… I understand how it works just fine. I already told you guys the last two weren’t my fault. Lila told me she couldn’t get pregnant while breastfeeding.”

“And you should believe everything your wacko wife says?”

“Yes.” No longer able to contain it, Diego burst out laughing. “Five. This about you, not me, and as much as you want to act like you know it all. When it comes to enjoying the good parts of life, you are still about as fresh out the gate as you can get. Just flirt with a girl. Get to fucking her on the regular, and ta-da, circle of destiny complete. No more death knocking on our doors.”

Five let out heavy sigh. “It isn’t as easy as that.”

Raising his hands in an open palm gesture, Klaus said, “Maybe it is.”

Five narrowed his eyes. “You have no idea what you are talking about, or what I have been through. Or the complications I am dealing with.”

“We get your hangups, we really do but,” Diego chimed in.

“No, you don’t!”

“Then tell us.”

“It’s her!” Five angrily pointed to the door. “The woman I hired who loathes me for reasons I can’t really blame her for, not when I’ve been such a colossal asshole to her. She’s the one! It has to be the right person for this kid to be the exact same kid I saw, and it’s her. She's the mom!”

“How do you know?”

“I just do, Diego!”

When neither Klaus nor Diego stopped staring at him, Five started counting on his hands.

“I know because…

One: The boy had my pocket watch that she also had on her when I got here. He threw it and she dropped it, all within seconds of our timelines merging.

Two: She has his eyes! They were my color green but the shape of hers!”

Five shook his head, his hands shaking he was so upset.

“The way they both look when they smile…” he breathed, “the curve of her lips is the same as his. Him being there with that watch wasn’t a coincidence. For him to be there at all, that means he jumped between timelines. I sure as hell couldn't do that, but if I could have, I know that everything you take with you on that kind of impossible journey would make it that much harder. He brought that watch with him because he was trying to point me in the right direction with her and I didn’t see it until it was too late, and now the only deal I’ll be sealing with his mother if I try to hit on her is going to be a kick in my magical nuts.”

Like a deflating balloon, Five sunk his face into his arms where he had them folded on top of his desk.

“It’s not too late. You guys seem to get along,” Klaus soothed.

Five shook his head no, not bothering to look up.

“Just be nice to her,” Diego unhelpfully added.

“I think it’s a little past that,” Five mumbled.

Chapter Five: Entente

“Say nothing,” Five warned. “I don’t need everyone up my ass. You two knowing is bad enough.”

Tapping your knuckles on the door, Klaus called out extra high pitched, telling you to come in.

“Who’s daddy here?” you said, your smile getting bigger as you asked about the outburst you just overheard from your office next door.

“Five is,” Klaus happily exclaimed.

“Incinerator!” Five barked, wildly motioning at him like he was going to slice his head off with his index finger.

“Blah, blah, blah,” Diego said, his hand mimicking the action of a mouth as he squawked it at Five. “We need to get this show on the road. I’m gonna tell—”

“Diego, so help me,” he hissed, cutting him off.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” you said, your eyebrows drawing together, “but some of us have a meeting in two minutes.”

Five quickly picked up his notes and pushed out of his chair. “Shall we?” he said, directing you to lead the way with an assertive wave of his hand.

You walked in silence to the boardroom, but reaching the door, Five unexpectedly placed his hand on your upper arm, holding you back.

Coming past, Diego smacked his ass. “Don’t look so spooked, kid.”

“I will kill you,” Five replied, his voice as sugary sweet as his fake smile.

Still laughing, Diego joined the others

“What’s so funny?” Lila asked, before shoving him down in his chair, opposite yours, next to the head of the table.

“Five,” he answered.

“When isn’t he? I mean look at him,” she said, eyeing you both up with a curious look before looking back at her husband, giving him an even more devilish smirk than she’d given you. “Why don’t you spank me like that?”

“Oh, I’ll give you a spanking, babe, especially if you keep looking at me like you want to go for a ride on my sweet mustache.”

“LA-LA-LA-LA!” Ben bellowed. “We do not need to hear this, you ASSHOLES!”

“I’m sorry,” Five quietly breathed, directing your attention away from the Hargreeves family daily bickering forum. “What you have done here for me, and for them, I don’t have the words to express how thankful I am.”

He paused, the sincerity in his eyes startling you.

Without hesitation, you reached out, your fingers slowly sliding up the length of black silk leading to his neck. “There,” you said, fixing his knot. “You didn’t seem to be aware you were all twisted.”

Looking humorously befuddled, Five’s Adam’s apple bobbed up then down. “I am not aware of a lot of things going on,” he quietly replied.

“No? You?” you teased.

“Thank you,” he said again.

“You’re welcome. Now, shall we?” you asked, as you gave him the same heavy-handed gesture he’d given you in his office.

~~~

For the next hour and half, Five sat at the head of the table in a board room full of people all appointed by him. Even Elliot was sitting in as the new director of analytics since Diego and Herb and Lila were now acting as supervisors over all operations that either he or you weren’t.

He’d read your notes, telling him what to expect, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lost. Still, each time a question was directed at him that he couldn’t readily answer, you seamlessly stepped in, replying for him. No one was the wiser that he was floundering, but by the end of the day, your smooth handling of him was only adding to how uncomfortable he felt.

Shutting the door to his office, briefcase in hand, Five was about to open a portal to travel forward in time, back to his musty old apartment, but then he heard something.

Turning, he saw your office door was open. He came that way, moving into the light streaming into the hall.

“What is all this?” he questioned, watching you trying to ram a stack of boxes in the corner, your sock covered feet repeatedly slipping across the slick flooring because the tower of cardboard cubes weighed more than you.

“These are all my worldly possessions,” you replied, glancing his way before giving your things one final shove. Bending straight, you placed a hand to your sore lower back, massaging it. “Since the sale of all employee housing and other unused buildings started, and then prepping for you all coming back, I have been a tad bit busy. I haven’t had time to find a new place. So this is it for me right now.”

Taking in your short cotton sleep shorts and well worn t-shirt, when you busted him staring at how your shirt had fallen off your shoulder, Five diverted his gaze to your small meeting table covered with disassembled briefcase parts. “You’ve been sleeping in here? Where?” he asked, sounding very concerned.

“Most of the time, I sleep with my head on my desk, waking up with a tattoo of whatever I was working on the night prior inked on the side of my face,” you said, laughing a little. “This morning, that was the user manual for the new watches that will replace those huge briefcases. The roll out should be ready next week. I just need to get the mockup version down to research and development and they can take it from there.”

Five frowned even more, which made you smile even more. “You figured out how to recalibrate the energy field alternators so they’d fit in something that small?”

“I did, but it was you who invented the briefcases to begin with. I just used your original notes and changed a few things. We have a pretty bracelet version too if you’d rather that over the watch?”

“Huh…” Five looked impressed, and at a loss of words.

When he didn’t move from the threshold of your door, you took pity on him. “Would you like to have a look?” You gestured to the scattering of tubes and sapphire-colored vials of glowing liquid energy that he at some point down the road created to mimic what he naturally produced when he time traveled.

Coming in, Five set his briefcase down and started to look over your work.

“I think the watch version will be just fine,” he said. “Thank you for fixing this one for me. Seems you are very good at fixing things I can’t figure out.” As you looked down at the silver chain hooked to his vest, he smirked.

“Watch it is,” you said, getting more and more flushed as he rocked back on his heels, his hands fiddling in his pants pockets as if daring you to look just a little lower.

“Can we talk?” he asked, breaking the awkward tension, but also worrying you with the way his cocky smile instantly evaporated.

“Ah… Sure.” Heading to your desk, you removed the garment bags hanging over one of the two chairs co-workers usually sat in. Sitting down in the chair across from him as he lowered himself in the spot you cleared, you said, “What’s on your mind?”

“What would you say if I told you, that when it comes to me needing your help, the complexity of things I asked you to do so far only touched the tip of the iceberg when compared to what I’m about to ask next?”

“I’d say we need a drink,” you laughed.

“I’d say yes to that,” he said, the tiniest pull at his lips again making his eyes gleam and your cheeks feel warm.

Thankful for a reason to look away, you opened your desk drawer, pulling out a bottle of Scotch and two glasses.

“That’s a good one,” he noted.

You cracked the seal, pouring a few fingers worth for each of you. “I’m sure it is,” you replied. “I heard the boss enjoyed this brand and I was going to give it to him as a welcoming back gift, but he turned out to be a dick, so I kept it.”

You pushed his glass across your desk.

“To bad bosses and putting them in their place,” he suggested, raising his glass.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him overly cutely, clinking his glass with yours. “To telling you off.”

Taking a sip, Five nodded his approval, his grin deepening.

“Speaking of workplace relationships,” he said. “That brings me back to what I need to talk to you about.”

“Go on.” You took another drink.

“I would rather gargle a pinecone than have to say this, but I have no choice. This isn’t just about me and if I live to see another day or not. It’s about my family too.”

You set your glass down, your eyes glued to his. “What do you mean if you get to see another day or not?”

“What I mean is, the only reason my family and I, or any like us, are here is because of something my future kid said to me right before I dropped out of the sky landing in a cake. If he hadn’t paid me a visit, telling me to move my ass and not let The Cleanse eat us, we’d be dead and never been born at all as far as you’d be concerned. Now, if I don’t succeed in producing him, this entire causality loop will disintegrate, my family along with it.”

“The kid you asked about?” you breathed, remembering Five yelling at you in the park about a kid, right before he knocked you on your ass a second time.

“Yeah. That kid. Our kid,” he said.

You started rubbing your temples. “Our kid, you say?”

He nodded.

“And you know I’m a part of this how?”

“There were clues,” he said, rolling his eyes, but not at you. “I stupidly didn’t put any of them together until after I repeatedly insulted your intelligence and unleashed my wounded ego on you.”

“What kind of clues?”

“Big ones, like every part of him I saw was half you, down to the way you are looking at me right now with those pouty lips.”

“I am not pouting.”

“Neither was he.” Five titled his head down, looking at his drink he hadn’t touched since the first taste.

“What are you asking?”

He looked up and laughed weakly. “I think you know.”

“You want me to have a kid with you, so this future person can exist to complete a loophole in time or all of you will be gone-just poof?”

“Yes. But it’s more of a causality loop than a loophole,” he corrected, the hint of his smirk playing up the corner of his mouth.

“That’s it?”

Five leaned forward, setting his glass down a few inches from yours. Sitting back in his chair, he steepled his hands at his chin, his face becoming even more forlorn. “We can do this no-strings attached,” he offered. “I will raise our son alone if that’s your wish, or we can do it together, but you owe me nothing. I will support you either way. It’s all strictly business with this deal.”

“This is not at all what I thought we were going to be talking about,” you said, staring at him, still looking for sign he was fucking with you.

“This is a matter of life and death, and I would never put this on you if it was just me I was worried about,” he said, his guilt evident in the tortured look filling his eyes. “It’s my family and their kids—”

“No, I get it. You mentioned the family thing,” you quickly cut in, holding your hand up as you shut your eyes. The lines in your forehead deepened when you looked back again. “How long do we have… I mean, can I think on it?”

“I don’t know how long. I could have days or even years to get you pregnant.What I do know is, if I don’t do it fast enough and suddenly I’m gone, there will be no going back with a briefcase for a do over. That said… of course you can think on it.”

You said nothing, your eyes darting around your messy desktop.

Five started to get up. “I’m sorry.” The sound of his voice was about as self-deprecating as it could get. “I am not the type to say those two dirty words very often, but with you,” He smiled sadly again, then picked up his briefcase, “it’s something I might as well start every sentence with.”

When you said nothing, Five finally turned his gaze downward, swallowing hard before he opened his mouth again.

“I’m sure I’m the last person you want to procreate with, and there are other less touchy ways of getting this done, but with time of the essence, and with how high the stakes are, I’d prefer if you agree to do this, we do it the old-fashioned way. The odds of it working are higher that way and there is no need to involve anyone else.”

“Makes sense,” you quietly replied, your cheeks flushing as much as his suddenly were.

“You are welcome to sleep on the couch in my office,” he offered, looking around your office again. “The blanket you left me is still in there, and it’s not my place to say it, but I did put you in this situation and I’d feel much better knowing you were in there, not in here, waking up with lines from a boring user manual printed to your pretty face.”

He cocked his head to the side and smiled.

You silently nodded, then Five activated his briefcase, leaving you alone, shaken beyond words.

Chapter Six: Only Fools Rush In

Knocking over your unfinished third glass of Scotch when you accidently threw your hand into it while readjusting your face on the stack of books you’d taken out to reference, you gave in, going to Five’s office to sleep on his couch.

He’d only laid on it once, but when you were doing the same thing, you felt his presence as if he were right there. Everything in your life revolved around Five Hargreeves, and now even your blanket smelled like him, and so did the end pillow you had your head on.

It wasn’t a bad smell. Even passed out and covered in cake, Five smelled good, like a minty warm scent mixed with something earthy and wild. When you cleaned him up, you couldn’t help but notice his prominent jaw that could cut glass, or his shiny dark hair that was as soft as it looked.

Despite a decent place to sleep, all you could do was think about what he wanted you to do with him.

Way before he came in for the day, you were up and out of there. Showering down in the now mostly unused field agent locker rooms, you dressed in your usual modern day pencil skirt and blouse paired with heels, taking a little more time than normal at the mirror.

“Calm down,” you lectured your reflection.

Coming past Five’s open office door a while later, seeing him working alongside Herb at a chalkboard one of them had wheeled in, just breathing normally became a task you’d rather not add to your many others.

Five looked immaculate. He was wearing a new suit-three piece, like his others, but this one was tailored in a way that accentuated everything about him you were trying not to think about.

The figure he cut was full of promise and unimaginable power if he only thought of wielding it. Yet, he was noticeably relaxed in all his movements, everything he did deliberate, down to the way he looked your way for just a second, politely smiling, then went right back to scratching his numbers on the green slate as if you weren't still there staring.

At any second he could disappear, his family, and the young boy he told you about too, and thinking about that devastated you in ways you didn’t even have words or emotions to convey.

Sitting down in The Commission cafeteria hours later, you anxiously watched as Five moved through the line, loading his tray while in conversation with Viktor and Luther.

Nervously tapping your index finger against your milk carton, you waited. The moment he noticed you looking, he came your way.

“Can I join you?” he asked, approaching your empty table.

“Let’s do it,” you blurted.

Five slowly dropped down on the bench across from you. “Yeah?”

“It’s the only option,” you less embarrassingly replied. “I may not have my head wrapped around all of this, but I don’t know what I’d do if all of you suddenly weren’t here anymore. Explaining that to the kids and just… No. It can’t happen. I won’t let it.”

He nodded, letting go of his tray as he sat back.

“When?” he asked, his soft smile and twinkly green eyes filled with relief.

“Now. If you are ready? The sooner we do it, the sooner we know you are all safe, right?”

“Right,” he said, his increasing eagerness showing in the hyperfocus of his cunning eyes as they quickly moved from yours, to the door of the lunch hall, then back again. “Come on.” Getting up, leaving his untouched food where it sat, Five took off.  

He dashed down the busy hall past the lobby area, heading for the stairs.

“Where?” he called out.

“I don’t know?” you breathed back, still trying to catch up.

Heading down the hall towards your offices, seeing the busy flow of people working down at that end of the building, Five stopped in his tracks.

He glanced over at the bathroom door a few doors back in the direction you just came.

Restless looking as before, taking you by the hand, he spun you around like he was leading you in a dance, pulling your back against his chest.

You had no time to recognize that the heat you were feeling wasn’t just from his body suddenly pressed to yours. Static energy sizzled, the light from it so bright your eyes automatically flew shut as he blinked you away with him.

Appearing with your feet back on solid floor, your breath whooshing out of your pounding chest, the harsh smell of cleaners filled your nose.

You opened your eyes to the sight of a toilet and a wall in front of you.

Once sure you weren’t going to topple over, Five stepped back, the sound of the bathroom stall door behind him bumping into his back before it creaked closed.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice so low behind your ear that only you could hear it over the sound of the person washing their hands at the sinks.

“Yes,” you whispered.

There was a soft turning of the metal as Five latched the door.

Hinges squealed and two seconds later, the heavy wooden door to the hallway banged close.

~~~

Approaching you from behind, Five’s cock twitched. Just looking at you like this was enough to make it happen. He palmed himself through the fabric of his pants, an unexpected thrust of his hips threatening to topple him forward. 

His entire body was so alert it was vibrating, the desire in his loins building to a fever pitch.

His trembling hand brushed against your hair, brushing it aside so he could see the side of your face, the other working to get his zipper down. 

You let out a surprised gasp when he suddenly forced one leg between your thighs, parting them easily.

Having freed himself from his pants, feeling your whole-body tense as he pressed up against you, his head swimming with lust, he launched at your throat. Biting at your soft skin hard enough to sting, you reactively cried out.

“Quiet,” he growled, then thrust himself against you again, his fingers dragging the fabric of your skirt up your legs.

Sliding his palm down your stomach, Five pushed your panties down with the motion of his fingers clumsily running between your folds, a quick smile spreading across the back of your neck when he felt how wet you were.

His hand at your back, pushing you forward until your feet fell out of your slingback heels, you were forced up on your tippy toes with your hands falling into the wall behind the toilet. In one forward thrust, he buried himself, his body crushing against your back.

Feeling himself throbbing inside you, Five began to move, his fingers pulling away from your clit so he could put them on your hip, opposite his other hand. Rapidly thwapping his pelvis against the erotic feeling of your squishy butt cheeks, he bit at your shoulder again.

Fingers digging in, he yanked you towards him with each thrust. Then, going harder, his heels coming off the floor, he bottomed out.

You cried out, his hand just as fast flying off your hip, covering your mouth.

Pulling your head back to his shoulder, Five’s thrusts became rougher, more insistent. Groaning into your ear, his ragged gasps signaled his rapidly approaching climax.

In one fluid thrust he withdrew almost all the way out, then sunk back in as he came, finishing with a few shuttering jerks of his hips. 

His hands slowly slipped from your mouth to rest at your throat as he fought to catch his breath. 

You didn't move until he backed away, letting your skirt drop back into place.

Hot come started trailing hot down your inner thigh.

Sounds from the hall filled the tiled room with voices, then the door closed again. Footsteps moved across the bathroom, the metal partition surrounding you rattling as one of The Commission’s staff enclosed themselves in the stall one away from yours.

Burning from the force of Five’s entry, your entire body shaking, you started to turn around. Refusing to meet your eye, or even acknowledge you were there, as soon as Five had his pants fastened, he blinked away.

~~~

When you reached Five’s office a few minutes later, he was standing inside, looking over his mail.

Marching over, you said, “When I said let’s do this, I didn’t mean I wanted it like this!”

“What did you mean like this?” he hotly shot back, throwing down his letter opener.

“I have feelings! I am not a fuck doll!” you fired back at him. “Why did you just leave me like that?” Five bristled, his nostrils flaring. “I fucked you. That’s what we agreed we are doing, remember? I can’t help that you wanted it right then and there. Your pussy was clenching on my dick so hard, there’s no way you didn’t get off. What more do you want from me? I did my part.”

You slapped him.

Holding his cheek, Five let out a shallow breath, a clear sense of confusion in his stunned eyes.

“You don’t just fuck someone like that and disappear!”

“What’d you expect me to do?” he yelled back just as Elliot walked in, quickly pivoting back out the door the second he heard the still very intimidating man he once thought was a scary little alien boy going off on you.

“I don’t know what I expected, but I… I just thought…” Feeling your eyes prickle, you looked away. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t care.” “Do you want me to care?” “You are such a prick,” you muttered.

By the time Five’s thoughts had merged together to form a defense, you were gone, slamming the door behind you.

Chapter 7: Public Displays

“I didn't ask for this!” Five growled, about to come after you as he swung his door open to find his brother standing outside, his hand raised to knock.   

“What,” Diego asked, “having a nice conversation with a real woman?”

“No!” he barked, stomping past, heading to your office, but right away, he saw Dot at your desk, not you. Coming back out, he raked a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

“Did you tell her?” Diego pushed.

“Yes, I told her.”

“Did she say yes to jumping your little bones?”

Five breathed in, his teeth clenching as his shoulders bounced.

Diego grinned. “You banged her already, didn't you?” “Why don't you irritate Lila and leave me alone.”

“Oh! You did!” Diego started pumping his fist. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about… I knew you wouldn’t let us down, and with the rest, I’m just messing with you, man. Lighten up. That’s part of your problem.”

Five clapped his hands together brandishing a fake smile. “Nobody said I had a problem but you, and whatever this is, is over. I am in no mood to fight with you.”

“This was not a fight. And if it was, I’d win.” Diego threw his arm around Five’s shoulder, pulling him back inside his office. Letting him go once inside, he said, “And sure, nobody said you had a problem, but that girl’s teary face did when she just passed me.”

“She was crying?”

“She was doing that thing women do when they are trying not to.”

“Shit.”

“Five,” Diego said, in a very big brotherly tone, “for so long you’ve had to evaluate everything under the brutal terms of survival, all things either being irrelevant or not, but with this one, maybe that’s not the way to go. Kill the emotionally stunted old man shit. I know you have the hots for her. She’s perfect for you, which I’m betting is why you hired her, that, and she’s way smarter than you, which again goes back to why I know you are being a dick.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I don’t? So, you didn’t just do something stupid?”

“It’s so much more than that,” Five said, his eyes turning even more tormented looking as he looked away, then back again, doing his best to keep it together.

Diego smiled. “You are a good person, man. You can fix this.”

Sad and angry, Five said nothing, and he continued to say nothing to Diego about it, or you for the rest of the day, and then the next, and then the next. You kept doing your job, of course, communicating with him when necessary, but that was it, and it was killing him. 

Diego was right. He had to do something. It was his fault-again.

~~~

Day four, Five couldn’t take it anymore. 

Lightly tapping on your door frame, you looked up from your desk. He raised one of the two coffee cups he was holding. Offering a smile. “Two sugars, one cream?”

Your pen slowed to a stop. “Why would you know that?”

He came in. “I know that because, over the last few days I’ve been asking the girls around here all sorts of things about you, and because of my persistent inquiries with them and pretty much everyone else around here, I’m fairly certain the entire building knows their boss is falling hard for you.”

Taking the coffee from his outstretched hand, your mouth opened but nothing came out.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered. “That is the last thing I wanted to do.”

Slowly standing, you asked, “Can we go for a walk?”

“I would love that,” Five quietly replied.

Once outside, strolling across the open green area between The Commission's main buildings, taking sips of his coffee to fill the silence between you, Five waited, watching you for signs of what to do.

“I suppose we can’t go far,” you finally said. “If we ventured too off campus we’d probably start a flurry of chatter with the good citizens of this quaint little town.”

Five smiled, “True. But if you wanted to change into your poodle skirt, and I could dig up some of my frumpy old man trousers somewhere, then maybe we could snag a milkshake down at the drugstore. I’d even give you some nickels for the jukebox since you’re my favorite girl.”

“I like you in your old man trousers, and I’m not your favorite girl. But nice try,” you laughed.

“I get to decide who my favorite girl is, not you and I’d like you in anything,” he retorted. “And hey…” He frowned. “When did you see me looking like the crazy old bastard I really am?”

“In your files and footage on the Infinite Switch board. I did my research. I take my job very seriously, as you know.” You gave him an even more teasing looking grin, then added, “I can’t wait to see you with that cute mustache again.”

“You can’t?”

Taking Five’s hand in yours, you pulled him over to a shady bench under the fluttering leaves of a towering oak tree.

Once you had him sitting, you let go, watching his fingers fidgeting with unease as they came around his cup with the others, gripping it way too tight.

“Five…”

He looked up, meeting your gaze.

“I was hurt about what happened in the bathroom because you are right,” you started. “What you did, the way you did it… Everything about you and that was hot. With just that moment of amazing sex, you left me ruined and it really scared me.”

“It scared me too,” he admitted, his soft eyes searching yours. “That’s why I left.”

“All I wanted was for you to hold me,” you said. “Anything but leave.”

“The last thing I wanted was to leave but I thought you’d only agreed to do this because you felt like there was no other choice. I asked you to have a child with me, but that didn’t mean you had to be with me more than that..”

“Five…” you said, setting down your cup so you could take his hand in yours again. “The moment I was hired, everything I learned about you further proved what an amazing person I already thought you were. I was fighting an embarrassing schoolgirl level crush on you even before you got here, and since, it's only gotten worse despite you being a jerk most of the time. That’s how much you mean to me.”

“It’s not just me feeling this way?”

“No. It’s not just you,” you said, as he lovingly caressed the underside of your wrist with the tips of his fingers.

“Can we start over?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his emerald eyes about as worried looking as you’d ever seen them.

“We already are,” you said, his nervousness distracting you from your nerves.

Moving your entwined hands into Five’s lap, his breath hitched, his air intake stopping entirely when your warm palm slowly moved over his crotch. 

With only a peck at first, your lips meeting his, Five whimpered against your mouth, his cock growing heavy and warm under your hand.

After only allowing yourself to feel the desperation of his kiss for just a moment longer, you pulled back, smiling at him. “You are ready to go just like that, aren’t you?” 

“It’s my secret superpower,” he said, already trying to kiss you again, his tongue dipping inside your mouth, exploring.

“Just the smell of your body is enough to get me hard,” he groaned, having to break away to breathe, as you massaged your hand harder over the bulge in his pants. 

Loving this, you leaned into Five more, placing extra soft brushes of your lips just below his ear.

“We need to either stop or we need to go somewhere, now!” he warned, the pitch of his strained voice so funny, you laughed, the heat of your breath against his throat enough to make him whimper like a puppy all over again. 

“Get us out of here, and I won’t stop,” you said, in between kisses along his jawline.

Your discarded coffees spilling from the force of air filling the vacuum of space you’d just been sitting in, in less than a second, you were clumsily standing between buildings, only partially hidden from any onlookers by a bush full of spring flowers.

Falling into Five as he leaned his back against the brick wall behind him, you raised your eyebrows in question.

“When the blood flow to my brain is in short supply, like it is right now, it’s best I don’t try to blink somewhere I can’t already see,” he frantically explained before smashing his lips against yours again.

Working his pants down as fast as you could, you reached inside his pants, gripping his naked cock in your hand.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his hips helplessly thrusting.

His eyes becoming even more heavy-lidded, you started to move the outer skin of his shaft over the harder core. 

Your other hand lowering, you cupped Five’s balls through the bunched material draping off his tensed thighs. His heartbeat already pounding in his ears, when you gave him a little squeeze, his scrotum pulsed to the same rhythm, his mind becoming even more clouded.

“Yes, do that,” he groaned.

“At night, do you think about us doing things like this?” you questioned as you smirked. “Because I do, writhing on your couch with my fingers between my legs?” 

“Ffffuck yes, I think about this!” he croaked as you slid your hand up his cock, swirling your finger round and round over the glistening pleasure seeping out of him.

“How exactly do you think about me, Five?” you pushed.

He shook his head, back and forth, overwhelmed with your touch as he was by the things you were saying.

“Please tell me,” you encouraged, feeling more empowered by the second.

“I think about you underneath me,” he gasped. “I see your hands gripping my sheets, and I hear you moaning my name as my cock fills your sweet little pussy full of load after load of my come.”

“Tell me more…” you said, your smile broadening.

“I fuck my hand, pretending I’m inside of you, every fucking single morning and night. The way you smile at me, I want to bite your lips so fucking bad, and the way your body looks in your tight skirts! I want to devour you!”

Five’s breaths were coming as quick gasps and there was no point in asking him if what you were doing was right. His face pressed against your shoulder as your hand moved faster, his soft shuddering not letting up the whole time.

The sound of voices passed by, but there was no indication that whoever else was out enjoying the sunny afternoon looked your way.

Your hand slicked, moving easily over Five with the silkiness of his bountiful pre-cum, even more hot wetness began to coat your hand. At your neck Five desperately kissed you as he sucked in gulps of air. 

His whole-body trembling, you ran your fingernails through the back of his hair as you slowly stroked him through the final tremors of his release. 

“Holy fuck I loved everything about that, but it was not at all conducive to us achieving our goal,” he finally said, smiling as he sheepishly peered at you from under the dark curtain of hair falling over his sleepy eyes.

“No, it was not, but that was the point. This is not just about that. This was about us starting over, which I think we just did. I want you and you want me and together we are going to do our best to make a superpowered little family,” you said.

Five laughed. “You really are smarter than me, and along with this being more proof of that, I think most of my remaining dignity just went down the drain with that crazy shit I just said to you, and the rest was just obliterated after that when I jizzed all over your skirt. A gentleman might have fought you off harder, and not done that,” he said as you burrowed into his warmth, with your head resting on his shoulder.

“He might,” you agreed, “but I think we both know that you are no gentleman.”

The softness of Five’s expression as you peeked up at him only made you want to see the kind of pleasure you just drew out of him all over again. All the harshness you knew he was capable of had washed away, leaving his eyelids heavy and his wetted lips parted in silence as he held you like he never wanted to let go.

Knowing you couldn’t stay there forever, a few minutes later, watching you clean you hand off, seeing that not only when he blew his load, some of it got on your shirt too, a little of the worry had found its way back into Five’s contented expression, but you were quick to address it, wiping the milky white off with your finger before sticking it in your mouth.

 “There,” you said, pulling your cleaned finger out for him to see. “All better. Now be a good boy the rest of the day and pay my next dry-cleaning bill, and I might let you take me to dinner tonight.”

Chapter 8: Taking Care of Business

Finishing your workday, you changed into a new sundress, one that you never had the chance to wear until now. On pins and needles, springing around your office, you tried to pick up your hopeless mess, every minute Five took to get there making your heart race faster.

As you promised, if he was good the rest of the day, which he was, shortly after you saw several of his family members come out of his office, Five strolled in, a single flower in his hand, only it wasn’t a rose or anything traditional like that. It was a bloom that looked just like the ones on the bush he’d blinked behind so you could man-handle him.

Coming your way, he extended the fluffy white blossom. Taking it from him, holding it to your nose, the summery perfume enchanted your senses as much as his sweet smile. 

“Ready?” he asked.

You nodded, yes.

Giving you a look that made your panties instantly wet, after a few buttons pushed on his new watch, you were off.

~~~

Like any first date, yours was filled with nervous jokes to hide insecurities, but it was exactly what you both needed to circle back to where you should have started to begin with.

As you already knew, Five was complicated. He had been through unimaginable things, some you knew about, some you didn’t. No matter where the conversation took you, when it came to his past, he was forthright, and everything new you learned only made you respect him and hurt for him more.

Five took his time asking you questions, listening patiently as you told him about your life, from the start to now. In those parts of the night, his smile never seemed to fade.

“Have you considered a day off might be in order if you are ever going to move out of your office?” he teased when you got to the part about the last few weeks.

“Yes,” you said, after swallowing another delicious drink of the Bordeaux he ordered to go with the herb-crusted roasted lamb on your plates. “But my boss would be lost without me for even a minute, so it looks like I’ll be stuck sleeping on the couch in his office indefinitely.”

“I’d rather you slept in my bed,” he silkily replied, his smile reddened even more seductively by the rich sip of wine he just licked off his lips.

You rubbed your foot along his lower pant leg, tickling your toes up and down like you’d been doing most of your dinner.

Eyes darkening, Five reached across the table, pulling your hand into his. Like every time he blinked with you so far, you had almost no warning it was coming.

Bouncing down on his mattress, propelling himself on top of you, Five’s fingers dug into your ribs, tickling with no mercy. 

“Five! Stop!” you cried, laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe.

“No! You’ve been fucking with me all night!”

“I have not!”

“What do you call that move you did with your foot nudging my dick while I was ordering?” he growled, kissing your neck in-between his breathy love bites.

“My shoes! Our bill!” you complained, realizing your heels were still laying under the table at the restaurant.

“I’ll get you new ones and I already paid the bill. Now hold still so I can dominate you,” Five gleefully demanded, as you squirmed.

When he finally let up, so you could catch your breath, you got a better look around his bedroom. It was small. There was the queen bed you were on, a side table next to it with a lamp on top, and piles of books on the floor everywhere. Other than a bathroom door to your right and what appeared to be an equally small living room, just outside the door, with a kitchen area attached, that was Five’s home.

You loved all of it, from his boyishly blue plaid comforter, to the worn but cozy look of his single sad recliner.

You put your hand in the middle of his chest, lifting yourself on your elbow to gaze at him. Turning his fingers around yours, Five drew you closer with his arm, sitting you up with him. 

In a much quieter game, he let his fingers play up your spine, each little bump like a run on a ladder he was climbing up your back. 

Enchanted by the way he is looking as you were by his featherlight touch; your breath quickened all over again.

With a smile, licking his lips, Five slipped his hand down the back of your dress, loosening your bra until it fell out of his way. His dark hair brushing your chin, his mouth came down, gently covering your nipple through your thin cotton bodice. Hot and wet, he kissed you there, soiling the fabric as he sucked, then kissed again. 

After a moment, he turned his attention to your other breast, the innocence of his expression as he enjoyed you that way so sweet you could cry.

On your knees already, raising your arms at his insistence, Five took your dress up over your hips, then over your head, tossing it aside. 

Kissing you full on the mouth, your bare body trembled under his hands as he tugged at the thin straps at your hips, pulling your underwear down until he couldn’t. 

Breaking away to kick out of them, he said, “I love these tiny pink panites. I hope the stripper you stole them from doesn’t ask for them back.”

Laughing and fully exposed, there was little shame left in you, but there was still shyness. You lowered your gaze, and Five took care of that by giving you hundreds of kisses until you became completely unaware of anything but how you felt about him.

You held the back of his neck as you kissed, the longer ends of his hair tickling the back of your hand. In turn, Five brought one hand back to your breasts. He held the weight of them in his palm as he squeezed and rubbed you and made small, short sounds of enjoyment into your mouth as he did so. 

His smile was on the darker side of playful as he caught you by the shoulders and brought you down on his bed. There was no demand in how he positioned himself next to you. His hair a chaos of brown from you messing with it, he reached out, the tips of his fingers brushing your cheek. “I'll be sorry for treating you the way I have been until the day I die.”

“You are forgiven,” you whispered as you pressed your face into his left palm. You pulled at his sleeves, pulling the warmth of his body over your chilled skin.

Five hissed between his teeth when you took your adoring kisses sideways, to his jaw, then his throat. When the tip of your tongue came out, tasting him, his hands tightened on your arms, and a soft sound of surprise crept out of his throat. 

His fiery gaze looked almost apologetic when he pulled back. You gently touched his face and Five closed his eyes as though he couldn't bear to look at you while you explored his lips with your thumb. “Your affection is more than I would have ever asked for,” he breathed, before kissing the tip of your finger.

Opening his eyes, there was that reflection of sadness, something that ran so deeply and painfully in him that it only made you more determined to change that. 

As your hands moved down the sides of his vest, his drifted to your thighs, rubbing slowly.

“I’m wearing way too many clothes,” he cutely laughed when you tried to get your hands under his shirt but were hardly able to move them once you did due to the tight fit of his vest.

“Yes, you are,” you giggled. “We need to do something about that.”

In a burst of light, Five vanished and reappeared just as fast, his naked body flawlessly pale as he pushed his groin against yours, his hard cock glistening as it bobbed against your lower belly.

“How’d you do that!” you gasped.

He smirked. “If I explain it, then I have zero surprises left.”

Reaching down, taking himself in hand, this time when Five slipped inside you, the feel of him slowly filling you was enough to make your eyes water.

Grabbing for his shoulders, you hooked your ankles around his waist, your body simultaneously clenching around him as it tried to resist his entry.

Five stopped, his face full of worry.

“Keep going,” you urged, digging your feet into his lower back.

Pulling himself out, undulating his swollen tip at your entrance a few times, Five slipped his cock back in just as slowly, both of your eyes crushing closed the sensation of it felt so good. Doing it again, he accidentally slipped out all the way. Fumbling between you, grasping at his swaying cock, he lowered himself over you even more, letting out a guttural curse of pleasure as he entered you again.

Pushing his hands under your butt, he hoisted you up, rocking his hips against yours in earnest as he tried to kiss you, his lips grazing yours with each downward thrust.

Head getting pushed back further and further into his pillows, you began to match his urgent movements. Working together, his sharp thrusts ignited something inside both of you. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders, you started to see stars, everything inside you suddenly exploding when you felt the heat of his release.

Crying out this name, every exhalation streaming from your lips matched the throbbing of your orgasm that was not letting up as Five kept thrusting, the sound of him fucking you as sinful as it was wet.

When Five did pull out, your back arched on the bed, the emptiness of losing him and the sight of his rigid cock still ready to go shocking you as much as the darkness in his eyes.

Without a word, he flipped you on your stomach.

As Five came down over you from behind, his spent cock easily slid back in, and just as fast, he started to rut, rough and needful, punishing your quivering walls all over again.

You squirmed, the feeling of it too much, but Five pressed his hand against your upper back, pressing you against his bed, forcing you to arch into him as he kept at it, fucking you at an unrelenting pace. 

A minute in, he wasn’t slowing, his thrusts sliding into you so deeply the force of it kept causing his headboard to bang into the wall

“Five!” you cried as you pulled at his bedding.

“I’m not stopping until I fill this fluttering cunt!” he growled.

Not even close to being over your first shivered round of aftershocks, he did just that, emptying himself in erratic spurts and uncoordinated thrusts.

Prying his hands from your hips, Five rolled you on your back. Blanketing you with his body, he started placing delicate touches of his lips on your cheeks, his long eyelashes brushing along your skin with the softness of an angel, while his fingers worked between your legs, gathering his leaking come so he could carefully and repeatedly push it back inside you until you surrendered to him all over again.

Helplessly quivering, you buried your fingers in his sweat-dampened hair as he took his kisses to your neck, then added a few final nibbles to your ear. Five seemed incapable of moving further than that, the tenderness of how he was nuzzling you, echoed in the throbbing fullness you felt.

When he finally sat back, it was only to reposition himself alongside you. He rested his cheek against the top of your head, squeezing his arms around you tightly. 

Feeling his warmth mingle with yours as you snuggled into him, you heard him yawn.

“Tired of me already? Was that a sign you want me to go?” you teased.

“This business we just did is hardly what I would call tiresome, and you aren’t going anywhere. I am not done with you yet,” he joked, but his hold not letting up meant he wasn’t actually kidding.

As you touched his hair, searching through it with your fingers. His limbs relaxed the longer you kept at it, his hand placed over your belly circling slower and slower. Your feet wrapped around his shins locking him to you even more surely, and with it, his breathing slowed along with his hand coming to a stop.

“Are you falling asleep, Five?” you softly asked.

His chest moved up and down against your side along with his quiet laugh. “Sleep is for the blameless, and I am not that. If you can wait a few minutes, I’m happy to give you round two with a fresh lesson on what you're dealing with since it seems you forgot already?”

“I think you already made your point that you are the cutest fiend to ever walk the Earth,” you laughed. “It sounds fun, but I doubt either of us has enough steam for that lesson right now no matter what you claim.”

“Honey, I am like a jackrabbit,” Five chuckled. “For all you know, I can bring you to unmanageable heights of ecstasy with this next one.”

You gave a playful tug of his hair.

Five nudged the top of your head with his face. It wasn't a kiss. But it didn't need to be. The way he was holding you, you knew that everything had changed. 

“We can go back to taking care of business in the morning,” you assured.

“There's always the morning,” he agreed, slurring slightly.

Soon, listening to this heartbeat step into a cadence of sleep, feeling the warmth of Five’s body next to yours, you drifted off in peace along with him, and you did the same thing together every night after that.

Chapter 9: Tiresome Work

“Are you free to chat for a few minutes?” you asked, gently clicking the large door closed behind you as you entered Five’s office.

“I’m always free for you,” he said, looking up from his desk.

Coming around next to him, you propped your bottom up on his mess of papers.

“How’s your day?” you asked, your eyes traveling from his soft pink lips, down to his neck, then to the relaxed motion of him spreading his legs as he leaned back in his chair.

“It’s getting better now that you’re here,” he replied, followed by a mischievous grin.

Doing your best to remember why you’d come in, the reason for it in your hand, you extended him your notebook. “Would you be willing to look this over? I think the numbers look good, but I’d appreciate a second brain on this one just in case I missed something.”

“I’ll look at it, but I doubt you missed anything. You never do,” he replied, his eyes smoldering. He patted his knee. “Why don’t you sit here and let me entertain you. You need a break.” 

Your cheeks instantly flushed, and the more Five gave you that predatory look the worse it got.

You didn’t move so he raised a brow.

“Come here,” he hotly demanded.

Hopping up, Five quickly snatched your waist, pulling you to him faster than you were already coming.

“We are supposed to be working,” you scolded, as he trapped you between his legs with his hand tickling up your back.

“We covered this already. This is us working,” he said, following your every movement with wolfish fixation. 

Trying to rattle him as much as he was flustering you, you broke away, half-heartedly attempting to organize the millions of items on his desk.

“That sign you are playing with says I’m the boss! Now get over here!” he angrily insisted, but not without laughing.

Giving you the sexiest smile you’d seen on him yet, one that was all dimple and shiny white teeth, Five patted his knee again.

Feeling silly, you perched your bottom on his knee.

With hardly anything between you and his finely woven pants, the bones of Five's knee purposefully pressed into you.

“Now then, isn’t that better?” he taunted as he leaned forward, his lips grazing the side of your neck.

“Five Hargreeves, you are a bad man.”

“And you like it,” he coolly replied with his hand coming up to fondle your breasts.

The room felt like it was on fire already, but everything got warmer when his fingers parted, slicing across the peaks in your blouse, softly catching on your nipples before his warm palms slid over them again.

Feeling like a drunken sailor, you swayed in his lap. Trying to steady yourself, you extended the tip of your shoe to the floor, but Five nudged his knee into you with a little lift of his foot, his hands locking you in your seat to prevent your escape.

Plucking at you until your nipples were visible through the delicate fabric covering them, your small whines and the wetness spreading between your legs were met with his cocky grunt of approval.

“Five, there are dozens of people outside that door,” you said, shutting your eyes tight when he gave you a pinch.

“So,” he deadpanned.

The second you tried to get up again, he let out a growl, simultaneously biting into the crest of your shoulder, the feel of it all making your head roll back on your shoulders as your next broken moan filled his entire office.

“Never mind. Please don’t stop,” you breathed, as his magical lips pressed against the edge of your jaw.

“I wasn’t going to,” he shushed. “This is the most important thing I have left to do here, I say fuck these numbers you brought me. You’re the one who should’ve always been checking my math. My sole purpose now that I have you to do the brain work is fucking you.”

“Five,” you moaned as you shifted your weight on his thigh, desperate to relieve the pressure.

“Mmmm?” he replied.

“You are driving me crazy.”

“I know, but I need to get this baby inside you and seal this deal,” he insisted, kissing you with even more vigor, his mouth sucking at your skin as he moved his hand down between your legs, massaging your swollen folds through your underwear.

“Yes. I understand that but…but we maybe already did seal that deal,” you stuttered. “And if that really is what you are trying to do right now again anyway, it can’t be in here.”

With another quick nip at your throat, Five said, “This is my office, and I intend to use it in any way I please. I earned it, damn it!” 

“You did earn it,” you said with a breathy laugh, shifting your weight again, trying to turn towards him and put your feet on the floor. “But we should at least lock the door.”

“Stay put!” he barked, but it had no bite to it because he was trying to paint a silky line with his tongue along the shell of your ear.

Biting your lower lip next to distract you, flipping his hand out from under your skirt, Five pinched your firm nubs of flesh again, not with pain, but with shocking effect. You gasped as a burning jolt of electricity detonated between your thighs. 

“Please hurry,” you weakly begged him, the pressure of his knee under you both good and bad at that point.

His fingers gripped under your jaw, moving your face towards his. “There’s no hurry, honey. Daddy is the boss here and everyone knows about us anyway,” he whispered, velvety soft.

You opened your mouth to what, at this point, and with that daddy comment, you didn’t even know anymore, but Five was quick to cover your mouth, his index finger pushing your lips open.

“Suck it like you want to suck me,” he directed as his other hand moved up, slowly opening the buttons on your shirt, stopping when he had enough of them undone to get his hand inside.

“Just like that,” he softly hummed as he watched you caressing the length of his finger with your lips and tongue. Breathing in, his nose brushed along your hairline. “Such a good girl.”

Pulling his finger from your mouth, he reached under your skirt, his wet finger trailing up your thigh, nudging under your panties.

“God, I needed this,” Five adorable whimpered, his thumb pressing down on your pubic bone as his finger slipped inside you, slowly pumping in and out.

“Oh, oh-fuu-ah-kkkkk! Faster!” you helplessly yelped as you ground down your weight against his leg, your hips frantically jutting into his hand.

His finger pumped faster. “Come on, baby. Come for me,” he encouraged,

Your ability to formulate thoughts going all to hell, nothing but gibberish spilled from your mouth. “Mmmm-ahhh-fff, yyyy-e-sssss.”

Adjusting himself, spreading his legs wider to accommodate the tent his erection was making in his pants, he said, “More?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

The rhythm of his hand changed, and a second finger added to his thrusting while his thumb kept fondling your clit with enough pressure to make your head spin.

Gripping the front of Five’s vest in a lame attempt to ground yourself, he began placing a path of kisses along the side of your neck. “My heart beats for you,” he said, his voice deep with longing that matched the look in his worshipful eyes.

Your legs spread embarrassingly wide, the backs of your heels knocking against his shin, you rocked on his knee, your building climax pulsing to a roaring scream. Five kept going at it, not letting up the pace or intensity of his finger repeatedly hooking inside you, drawing out moan after moan.

Your eyes droopy, he grinned at you like this was the best thing he’d ever done while at work, which was ridiculous considering his desk was littered with all the plans he was putting in place to fend off any future apocalyptic events that could threaten the existence of humanity.

Blowing your mind and making you come so hard you couldn’t see straight was hardly important compared to all that, but he didn't seem to think so. He was so beautiful, you could have sat there all day, dreamy admiring the shape of his eyes and their soft lines of happiness, but when he withdrew his fingers, it shot you back into reality.

At the sound of Diego walking by, talking loudly, and Lila smart talking back at him, you instantly started to get up.

Smirking, Five got up too while sucking his newly freed digits in his mouth, licking them clean.

Weak with orgasmic afterglow, you pressed your face against his collar, contentedly breathing in his warmth. “Let’s go somewhere where I can take care of you,” you said, nuzzling him.

“I need you to take care of me right here, love. I have a good feeling about this spot,” he whispered.

You were crushed speechless all over again by the way Five called you love, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway if you found a way to argue because his mouth molded to yours, opening it with the force of his kiss, so he could use his tongue to tangle and tease you into submission.

When Five did relinquish ownership of your mouth, it was only to spin you around, so your backside was facing him again. From there, he released you and started fumbling with his clothing, the sound of his zipper coming down just before the metal of his belt clanked to the floor.

You reached for the desk in anticipation, thinking he was going to lay you out, chest down over his mess of papers so he could fuck you from behind, but instead, his hand latched onto your waist as he pulled you back with him, towards his desk chair.

“Show me you love me the way I love you,” Five breathed, the back of his legs bumping his seat as his cock prodded between the legs.

You hesitated, not sure what you were supposed to do, so Five plopped himself down in his chair, clarifying when he said, “Sit down.”

The pointed toe of his dress shoe rubbed against the inside of your ankle, further making his intent known. His hands brushed along your thighs, lifting your skirt, then he pushed your panties down.

Reaching back, you put your hands on his armrests. Lowering your body, he stopped you short, hovering over him.

The heat of his length ran along, gathering the wetness he’d already drawn from you. His swollen tip moving back and forth had you holding your breath and the tightening coil of desire inside you clenching with renewed need.

After several more passes, Five lined himself up. “This time, I’m going to fuck you so deep, there’s no way my boys won’t be able to stick their landing.”

“Oh, my God, Five,” you laughed.

“Please, honey, sit down!” he frantically laughed back.

Smiling like a fool, you began to lower yourself over him again, but almost right away as he entered you, it felt like you were being impaled by the girth of his rock-hard shaft, and you had to stop. “Fi-fff -vvvv- ” you sputtered. “It’s too much like this I—”

“I know, just go slow, I’ve got you,” he said, sure to keep his hands under your bottom to support some of your weight.

Giving you all the time you needed, Five shifted back, his chair creaking from his weight. His hiss of satisfaction when your body took in more of his cock was met by your teeth stabbing into your bottom lip.

“Fuuuuuck…” Five groaned, echoing your silent sentiment exactly.

Forcing yourself to take it, adjusting your body down on him until you were sitting all the way down in his lap like he requested, you were shaking like a leaf.

His lips pressed under your ear. “I am hopelessly in love with you,” he whispered.

“Oh, Five,” your voice trembled as he buried his face against your neck.

“Fuck me,” he ordered in a maddingly cocky tone.

Knowing full well he was smiling, you started rocking your hips. Almost right away, to your delight, Five placed his hands over yours on his arm rests, his knuckles going white.

His breaths started to rush out of his mouth, moist against your throat. When you started bringing your body up and down, sliding his cock in and out, deep then shallow, he fell back, breathing a quiet chorus of profanities.

“You like that?” you cheekily asked, bouncing on his cock in a way that felt so good for you, you never wanted the feeling to end.

“Fuck yes I like it!” he groaned. “Why the fuck did I wait until today to make you sit on my dick like this. We should have been doing it this way, every day, three times a day!” 

Working your bottom up and down, taking him in and out, faster and faster, his head flopped back against his leather chair.

Smiling, just thinking about the fucked-out face Five was probably making, you said, “Five, I loved you even before I met you. There’s no one else in this world I love as much as you.”

“I can think of someone,” he groaned, “but I’m okay with that since that little charmer is going to be the son I am going to give you right now.” Kissing your shoulder, he grabbed you by the curve of your waist, pressing his fingers to your stomach, increasing the pressure inside you.

Jolted with each thrust of his hips meeting your ass, his hand at your waist lifted you up and down, allowing his cock to slide into you as deep as it would go.

“You’re mine now!” he growled.

His teeth sank into the crest of your shoulder blade.

“Oh, fuuuuuckkkk,” you cried, as he hummed his reverberated delight, his teeth marking you as if you weren’t already his.

Before the pain of his love bite became too much Five let go, his breaths coming fast as his sharp grunts. “Are you getting close? Because I can go at any time,” he huffed, ruthlessly railing you, his heels digging down on the floor as he thrust his hips up and down.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, unable to say more as you struggled to stay over him and not melt into a puddle of mushy bones in his lap. 

Your body shuddered, your breaths not enough. Your body reactively clamped down on his cock, repeatedly spasming. The second Five felt it, he filled you, his own body jerking and twitching as he erratically slowed to a stop and sank back in his seat.

His grip loosened as he let you down in his lap. His cock throbbing inside you, the final pulses of his release and the burning of your thighs overwhelming both your senses.

You were on fire, and the sweat on his brow proved that he’d just pushed himself to the point of glorious ruin too.

“I wasn’t expecting that when I came in here,” you quietly laughed, laying against him, your chest heaving with his as you reached back to run your fingers through his hair.

Just then, the door burst open. You jolted upright, but Five’s arm instantly flexed, refusing to let you off his lap.

“Hey, Five?” Luther said, stepping in the door, still looking behind him as he took the package one of the mail room staffers handed him as they whisked by. “Oh! Hey, guys,” he corrected, looking up, seeing you and nothing but the upper half of your bodies. 

Coming closer, thinking Five was just showering you with affection like he almost always was, Luther said, “Sloane wanted me to invite you to—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes locked on the sight of his brother’s lap as it came into full view.

Your skirt was hiding the worst of it, but with Five’s pants tangled around his ankles, there was no way Luther couldn’t tell that he was imposing himself on you from behind. 

“What is going on!?” he yelled, covering his face with the cardboard box that had Five’s name on it. “Guys! We are at work! I mean… Wow this is not appropriate!”

“What is going on is, I’m working,” Five calmly informed him. “It’s a well-known fact that when doors are shut, it’s for a reason, so this one is on you. And sure. We would love to join you and Sloane for dinner. Thank you.”

Five’s chin came to rest on your shoulder as he cooly stared at his brother. 

When Luther just stood there, too shocked to move, Five gave him a much clearer dismissal. 

“Get the fuck out, jackass,” he said as sternly as he could make it sound, which wasn’t even remotely threatening because he was laughing as he said it.

Luther huffed a few more words of confusion, then, fumbling around blindly, he eventually made his way back to the door.

When you were alone again, Five grinned. “Would you like to go for another ride, my love?”

Chapter 10: Ad Infinitum

Less than a month later, Five moved in, taking center stage from Herb.

“It’s been said several times tonight by others,” he began as the lights shone down on him, all people who worked for him anxiously waiting to hear what he had to say, “but I am going to say it again because you deserve it from me.”

Five glanced your way, looking so handsome.

Sitting in the row behind him filled with other board members, your ankles were crossed, and your heads were neatly placed in your lap. You were doing your best impression of a dignified businesswoman who hadn’t just spent her afternoon with your back on his desk and your heels resting on his shoulders, but the second his eyes met yours, your flush gave you away.

Having lit you on fire with nothing but a happy quirk of his lip, Five turned back to the crowd. “I personally want to thank all of you for your hard work prior to me coming on as your Director and especially after. Without all of you, this place never would have happened,” he explained, drawing a small applause of agreement from the crowd. “The last few months have been hard, but I know that what we have accomplished is worth it and it will make a world of difference.” 

Five laughed softly, almost too quiet to hear, but it was very him, and with it, it was impossible not to fall for his charms.

“I mean that quite literally,” he chuckled. “The changes we have made will end up saving the world, probably many times over.”

It was no secret what you all did at The Commission and averting the end of days was sort of your thing, so that got quite a few laughs from his audience and Five nodded knowingly before moving on. 

“Whether you wanted to or not,” he continued, “by now, everyone here knows me in some way or another, and I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t make knowing me easy. I am an asshole and always have been, so sorry about that.” 

Five made the motion of physically shrugging that off and that got more laughter filling the large auditorium.

His warm smile grew a little more.

“I’m an asshole, and I am working on it, just ask the very patient woman I hired to keep me in-line. I’m a work in progress, and probably always will be,” he joked.

He pressed the palms of both his hands on the slanted surface of the podium, a prominent line forming between his dark eyebrows. 

“Long ago, I made a horrible mistake, and I continued to make many more mistakes after that, and I paid for it, and my family paid too, over and over. The last thing I wanted to happen were the things that did.” 

Five paused, his pained gaze directing downward as a loose lock of his hair fell, concealing the sadness in his eyes.

“But,” he said, forcing his voice to sound brighter again as he looked up, “It’s time to move on and look to our future.”

His lips pulled to the side. 

“As we all know, I’m wrong a lot.” He sniggered at himself. “I couldn’t fix all of this on my own and I never should have tried.”

He turned and winked at you and your face instantly lit up and your heart skipped a beat.

“Everyone here is a family,” he said, still looking at you. “We are a team, and we will never stop fighting as one, but The Temps Aeternalis was never meant to be an organization that only preserved life,” he insisted, looking back towards the lights. “We are here to live it to its fullest with the people we love. That’s what makes us human. That’s the real reason we are here. To support that idea.”

Five looked over to his right at the rest of the board members, his eyes landing on Lila and Diego.

Seeing that Five was ready for them, Lila pushed herself up, giving him one of her overdone eye rolls and a hand at her mouth, intentionally drawing attention to her big, bored yawn as she approached. Behind them, Diego stood up too and began nervously shuffling his papers with his back turned to the audience.

At Five’s side, Lila smiled. “That was one hell of a speech. Sure took long enough, you old sap,” she complained, but Five merely smiled back at her equally affectionately, not taking the bait to verbally spar with her.  

Knowing that it would drive her nuts, he swept in, pulling Lila in for a big hug, smooshing her to his chest. Lila’s arm quickly found its way around his back, holding him just as tight. 

“I still think that you are a little piss-pot, you know that, right?” she whispered, while trying to hide that she was getting choked up by rubbing her runny nose all over on the arm of his suit jacket.

“I know how much you love me, and stop wiping your boogers on me,” Five said, scowling at her but it was so fake even the people in the back row knew it.

He pulled away, but not before giving her his pocket square. Then he leaned into the mic moving along to an epic finish.

“I am truly honored that you all entrusted me to make this organization into something in the end that we can all be proud to be a part of, and going forward I look forward to working with you all in a much less hands-on capacity.”

As murmurs from those who didn’t see this coming filled the room, his brother stepped up behind him and Five dropped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

Diego looked nervous but Five knew he was ready for this. Like so many things they were taught to think by Reginald that were wrong, Diego was never a second to anyone.

He was a leader and always had been, and his well-timed words of advice when it came to seeing things clearly with you would always mean the world Five.

When the votes came in, he was not at all surprised to see that Diego came in at the top to replace him. Diego was a perfect choice to shake things up around there and Five looked forward to stepping back in from time to time to watch his brother in action.

Hearing Diego take a long breath while he enthusiastically shook himself like he was about to spring into a scuffle, fists swinging like a boxer in the ring, Five’s proud, and somewhat exasperated smile got even bigger.

He looked back out over the podium.

“I am officially stepping down, and so is our Co-chair. Thanks to her, I’m going to be a daddy, and I can’t live another day with taking a little time away to enjoy that miracle with her,” he declared, giving everyone the good news.

The entire crowd stood and started giving their departing Director and you a standing ovation filled with excited whistles.

“It’s about time for that vacation,” Klaus yelled through his cupped hands with Viktor next to him, much less boisterous but equally thrilled in his enthusiastic clapping.

Motioning for the room to quiet but getting little back other than more clapping and shouts of encouragement, Five proudly said, “It is my honor to give you, Diego Hargreeves, our new Director, and his second in command, or first, however you want to look at it, your Co-Chair, Lila Hargreeves.”

Stepping aside, with a wave of his hand, motioning for Diego to take the mic, the echo of clapping didn’t stop and neither did the calls of well wishes for both the amazing man walking away, and the one trying and failing to get them to calm down.

Coming back to his empty seat next to yours, Five took your waiting hand into his, holding it tight as he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you mouthed back, smiling so hard it hurt.

As you stood together, cheering for Diego, it finally sunk in for Five.

This was it. The reason for it all.

Finally, he could start living life as he wished, and he couldn’t wait to do it with you by his side and his new baby boy in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❤️

Thanks for reading.

For all my super fans that read this and my entire first Five Centric series over on A03, if you noticed a similarity in the end of this one and that one, you are not crazy. I love my boy and I am a sucker for giving him endings he deserved. 😂😘 Long live TUA and FIVE!!

Link to see all my Tumblr story and art posts

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Link to visit me on A03

Thank you to all who interacted on my teaser post from 15 days ago, who either commented they wanted to be tagged or showed interest by hitting like. If I missed anyone, I am sorry. I appreciate your patience in getting this one done. 😘 @noodleprinter35 @starlitflora @clownstillwritesfanfic @ifellinto-fantasy @groovydazephantom @redros3y @em1989ts @fckyeahlames @sweetxserenity @honeybunchesoftoenails @9katherinestar @jedaweda @blazingcroutons @sinpforfictionalcharacters @in-love-daily @danlynnie @kalerah02 @ilydiego @3xclus1vel0v3r @yoko-haitani @lianaqui @clappincheeksmeatyflaps @bvbblejayyyy @lanabelle @sweetbabythrills @strawberieee @mimy2004 @fireheart13x @sublimeangelcollection @otralouie11 @idolkerry @tenshiseto @nooneenoticed @moniquem31 @nataliemonicaferlewich @appleypi @little-forest-goblin @i-love-gvf @ursovaine @hargreeves05 @jana0509 @marydbl @temptedtreasuretrove @noodleisodd @mugtrees003 @moonkitty59 @fivehargreevesnumber1fan @badkitty3000 @tuanputri-magui

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 3

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

A/N: Steve Rogers is older than Bucky here.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You arrived at the new apartment, feeling a small sense of relief for finally being under a different roof than Caroline’s. The thought of enduring the same torture as before made your skin crawl.

As you settled in, you broke the silence. “Your mom offered the attorney to us.” You remembered how you had insisted the divorce attorney make it as quick and painless as possible. “Why didn’t you finalize it?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady. “Not once did I think you were actually going to leave me.”

“There’s no marriage between us,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “If you’d finalized it, you could’ve easily married a woman your mother approved of.”

Flashback Start

You recalled every time Caroline mentioned another woman’s name as if they were more suited for Bucky. “You know, Rachel just graduated summa cum laude from Harvard in social politics,” she had said at the rehearsal dinner.

Then, on your wedding day, as you and Bucky sat together, trying to enjoy the celebration, Caroline approached, holding hands with a stunning woman. “Bucky, look who’s here? Katherine just arrived from London.”

Caroline’s voice dripped with approval. “Both of them went to the same law school.”

You clenched the fork in your hand so hard you thought it might snap.

Why the hell was she introducing another woman to you on your wedding night?

Did she expect you and Bucky to have a threesome with Katherine?

From that moment, you knew your place—an outsider who didn’t come from the pedigree Caroline so desperately wanted for her son.

When you finally left the house, you remembered her raising her champagne glass with a smirk. “I always knew you weren’t the one.”

Flashback End

“They need someone with a spotless record,” Bucky said, breaking you from your thoughts.

You stood there, your emotions a mix of anger and disbelief.

“I’m not making excuses for you. I know the old me wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t be the man you could rely on,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret.

He looked at you with a desperation that caught you off guard. “You could poison my drink, stab me in my sleep. I wouldn’t fight it. I’d let you.”

His eyes, usually so confident and composed, were now filled with a deep, pained sincerity. The weight of his guilt seemed to crush him, and the shadows of remorse darkened his features. His hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he say that so casually? What kind of twisted love was this?

“That’s how much I need you,” he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re using me,” you accused, your voice shaking with a mix of fury and sadness.

Bucky didn’t deny it. “Like I said, it’s a business relationship. But I’ve trusted you from the beginning. Put my faith in you.”

He reached out, taking your hands in his, holding them together like a prayer. “And I hope we can work together. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work in the White House.””

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The following day, you met Steve, the future Presidential candidate. He greeted you warmly, his genuine smile easing some of the tension you felt. You’d met Steve and his wife, Peggy, a few times before—honest people who never treated you like you didn’t belong. Steve had even defended you whenever Caroline or others looked down on you for not being in the same league as them.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Steve said, clasping your hand. "When did you arrive?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, when three Secret Service agents showed up at my door, who was I to say no?"

Steve chuckled too, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly. "Let’s talk."

You walked together, the air thick with unspoken words. "I know it’s difficult for you to be here. I owe you big time," Steve began sincerely. He had witnessed your marriage crumble, and despite his and Peggy’s best efforts to support you and Bucky, things had fallen apart.

You sighed. "What confuses me is, why me? He could’ve chosen another woman, someone way more qualified."

Steve leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To be honest, I think you’re the best option. He probably won’t show it, but Bucky was happy when he heard you were coming."

You scoffed, glancing over at Bucky, who was watching the two of you from a distance. "Impossible."

As you scanned the room, you spotted someone familiar—your brother, Tim. Excusing yourself from Steve, you made your way over to him.

"I’m glad you’re here," Tim said, his voice filled with warmth, though his eyes carried a weight of their own.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I can’t believe you. You knew what I went through, and yet you’re working with him? You sucked up to him."

"Look at me," Tim said firmly.

You glanced down at him, seeing the determination in his gaze.

"Who’s going to hire a disabled person like me?" Tim who seated on his wheelchair, his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. He had been born with both legs, but when bone cancer struck his left leg, the doctors recommended amputation to stop it from spreading. That surgery had shattered his dreams of becoming a professional tennis player.

"It was James who offered me a job," he emphasized, "with a high salary."

Tim continued, "You can keep your anger, but face it, Y/N—they won’t pay the bills. For people like me, I need more money to survive in this world."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky appeared beside you.

"Hi, Tim."

"Hey," Tim replied.

"I'm going to steal your sister for a bit." Bucky turned to you. "Our next schedule is couple’s therapy," he said, his voice calm but authoritative, cutting the conversation short.

You hated this part. The thought of attending therapy with Bucky made your stomach twist with unease. You shot Tim one last look, a mixture of concern and frustration in your eyes, before following Bucky out of the room.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As you and Bucky sat across from Aiden, the therapist, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. The room was simple yet comfortable, with soft, neutral tones that were supposed to be calming but did little to ease the storm of emotions swirling within you. You could feel the weight of Bucky's presence beside you, a familiar heaviness that both comforted and suffocated you.

Aiden leaned forward, his expression neutral but attentive. "So, what are you feeling right now?"

You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. "I don’t think I have the courage to live another day in his family. His mother is the devil spawn. Even seeing her shadow triggers me." The words spilled out of you, raw and unfiltered, a reflection of the years of pain and resentment you'd kept bottled up.

Aiden nodded, his gaze shifting to Bucky. "And what about you, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky's eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor, his voice steady but lacking its usual conviction. "I didn’t think that way. As long as we stick together, we can get through everything." There was a hint of desperation in his tone, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You turned to look at him, disbelief and anger simmering beneath your calm facade. "From the beginning, we should’ve never gotten married. You only focus on yourself, never bothering to look behind you. Me, trying my best to fit into your circles."

Your voice wavered, the painful truth of your words cutting through the silence like a knife. You had always known you were out of his league—young and innocent, believing that love could conquer all.

But you had been wrong, and the reality of that mistake was too much to bear.

His mother’s voice echoed in your mind, the countless times she’d told you that you weren’t good enough, that you didn’t deserve him.

"Your mother was right. I don’t deserve you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s expression tightened, his guilt etched into every line of his face. "I’m sorry. I really am sorry." His voice cracked, the weight of his regret finally breaking through.

He had never wanted this—to see you hurt, to see you broken because of him and his family. But the damage was done, and the guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.

Aiden observed the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "I see that you’re the victim here, ma’am. And your former mother-in-law is the main reason why." He glanced at Bucky, his voice firm. "Mr. Barnes, your mother hurt her deeply, and now you must do everything in your power to make amends."

Bucky nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I will. I'll do anything to erase the hurt you’ve received from her." The sincerity in his voice was palpable, but it was clear that the guilt weighed heavily on him. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from his mother’s venom, and that failure haunted him.

Aiden’s voice softened, but there was a steely resolve in his words. "Use this pain, both of you. Let it fuel you to confront Caroline, to reclaim your strength. Don’t let her win. Turn this pain into power."

As you sat there, the enormity of the situation began to sink in. You had been through so much, and the path ahead was uncertain. You had expected to loathe the couple’s therapy, but surprisingly, it turned out to be a beneficial experience.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

After the couple's therapy, the silence between you and Bucky was palpable, each of you grappling with the raw emotions that had surfaced.

The therapy had stripped away your filters, leaving you both exposed—your anger and frustration flowing freely. Bucky remained stoic, absorbing your harsh words with an almost resigned patience.

Returning to the Barnes household, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The room was filled with Bucky’s family: his parents, Julius and Caroline; his brother, Shawn, who struggled with cocaine and felt diminished by his inability to meet Caroline’s lofty expectations; and Hazel, Bucky’s sister and Nate’s mother.

Hazel, having felt overshadowed as the spare child, had chosen a career in fashion to escape the constant comparison to Bucky, who was seen as the golden child.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Shawn and Hazel, both of whom shared your misery under Caroline’s disdain. But that sympathy was tempered by their enjoyment of watching you suffer, thanks to their mother’s contempt.

Greg, a family friend, was the bearer of the news that the whole family would attend the upcoming convention event.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said firmly, your tone clipped.

“Why… why?” Greg asked, confused.

Caroline rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Here we go.”

Bucky tried to interject, “Don’t…”

You cut him off with a steely gaze. “After that consultation, you still want to continue this?”

Caroline's eyes narrowed. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”

Shawn chuckled, and Hazel remained indifferent.

“Quiet,” Julius commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The room fell silent.

With a sense of finality, you approached Caroline. “You’re so jealous of me,” you said, your voice dripping with disdain.

Caroline’s eyes widened, a mixture of anger and shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Because you know I’m going to get what you can’t have,” you smirked, savoring the moment. “Being the wife of the Vice President.”

“You bitch,” Caroline spat, something snapped inside her. Deep down, you were right—she was jealous of you. You were younger, smarter, and luckier. It was her dream to be in your position, but now it seemed like she had paved the way for you instead. What’s worse, you didn’t fit her criteria at all. She felt you didn’t deserve this.

Without warning, Caroline lunged at you, grabbing your hair. The two of you were soon locked in a fierce struggle, yanking each other’s hair and grappling with a fury that left no room for remorse. The physical confrontation was liberating, an outlet for all the anger you had been holding back.

You felt no fear and no guilt towards the seventy-year-old woman. At last, you could release all the anger you had been holding in.

Waiting for karma takes too long, and you can’t expect God to do all the work. So you took this chance to give her a lesson she won’t forget.

“Stop! STOP!” Bucky and Julius’s voices cut through the chaos as they tried to separate you. Shawn and Hazel, their faces a mix of curiosity and apathy, slowly backed away from the scene.

It was a struggle to pry you apart; Caroline, in her rage, was more unruly and disheveled compared to your own controlled fury.

“Hufft,” you adjusted your disheveled dress and hair, glaring at Caroline with a fierce, triumphant look. “You know what? I hope your son wins, so I can rub my new position right in your face.”

Caroline’s expression was one of shock and fury, her face a portrait of someone who had been dealt a blow she wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“You’re absolutely right,” you looked at Bucky, your voice steady. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live in the White House.”

Caroline’s gritted her teeth.

“If the world wants to see us as a happily married couple,” you said with a cold smile, “I’ll give them the most blissful marriage they’ve ever seen. It’ll be the kind of marriage everyone talks about when they mention a perfect union.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise at your cold declaration. For a moment, he was stunned, but as he processed your words, admiration and pride flickered across his face. He straightened, a hint of a smile forming, clearly impressed by your bold resolve and newfound strength.

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[monzabee]

the alchemy - cs55

masterlist || part 1 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where not Carlos, nor you, have the power to fight the alchemy. 

Pairing: dad!carlos sainz x mom!reader 

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: absolute fluff (been a while), possible ovary explosion bc of dad!carlos, cursing (because i use way too many f-bombs in real life too), kids (apparently, it’s a tw for some people), i tried hating charles but it’s not happenning so a cheater redemption arc (kinda, he's trying okay??)

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, thank you all so much for the love you showed for part one, i really appreciate it and i'm sorry that this part has been a little delayed, but i just wanted it to be just as drama-filled as the first part whilst still being a bit lighter so i hope i found the right balance for it. while we love dad!carlos, i felt like charles still deserved a chance to redeem himself and come to his senses so we love that redemption arc for him (well, kinda guess?). also, i know we have one more part of this little mini-series to go, a social media au (yay!), but i just wanted to let you all know, once again, that i do not have a taglist, and no i will not be making one!! however, i do appreciate all your support and comments, and please do let me know what you think about this part! thanks to @percervall once again, who had to listen me talk about this part for many many hours and who was kind enough to help me proofread!! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It only happened once every few lifetimes. 

You honestly did not expect to end up with one of your closest friends – especially not after you told your cheating husband that you were getting a divorce, after he chose his lover over you and your baby; and most definitely not after the said close friend told you that he would step up instead of your cheat of a husband.  

But there you are, in the arms of non-other than Carlos Sainz, your boyfriend, having just woken up by the excited pitter patter of feet right outside your bedroom door. “Carlos,” you whisper, nudging him softly to wake him up, “Carlos, wake up.” You watch as he stirs, and then buries his head onto his pillow mumbling all the reasons why he doesn’t want to be awake, but you just chuckle softly as you poke him again. “Carlos, please.” 

With a disgruntled grunt, you watch as his eyes open, and with a scratchy voice he whines, “What, amor, I was sleeping.” 

Rolling your eyes, you point to the bedroom door, “Listen,” you tell him, and watch as his eyes widen as realisation sets in at the same time his expression turns into a smiling one. “I think someone is excited for today.”  

“You think?” He retorts, snorting lightly as he pulls you closer, “That’s all he’s been able to talk about for weeks, amor.”  

“Well, can you blame him?” You nudge him, ignoring the sound of scraping of your son’s step stool outside your door. “He just wants to watch his father win.” Watching the smile on your boyfriend’s face grows as the door handle is jiggling, you point to the pillows with your head, “Let’s just pretend we’re asleep, he’ll be happier that way.”  

With a deep sigh, the happy kind, he pulls you closer to himself – at the right time too, as you hear the patter of footsteps getting closer. With a tug at the comforter, you hear, “Papa, wake up.” You can hear Carlos, badly, muffling a chuckle by burying his head deeper into your neck, but the little voice beside him is non-relenting. “Papa! You promised me we’d go to the race today!”  

“Carlos,” you whisper covertly, “you’re going to make him cry.”  

Giving you a look that silently says, No I won’t, he turns towards the little intruder in your bedroom, quickly gathering him in his arms as he puts him on the bed next to you. The sound of laughter coming from two of the most important men in your life bring a sleepy smile to your face as you watch Carlos tickle your son despites his protests for him to stop.  

“Mommy!” Your son exclaims, climbing over Carlos to reach you, “Tell Papa to stop! We need to get ready!” His face is flushed with excitement and laughter, a sight that fills your heart with warmth. 

“Alright, alright,” you say, giggling as you pull him into a hug, “let’s get ready then. You don’t want to be late for your big day, do you?” 

Carlos finally stops his playful assault, sitting up and stretching with a groan. “She’s right, buddy. We should all get up and get going. Lots to do before the race, you still remember our plan for breakfast?” Your son’s eyes light up even more, if that were possible, and he scrambles off the bed, running back to his room to get dressed. You and Carlos exchange a glance, something you seem to do more now than ever.  

You wait until Rafael is out of the hearing distance before you tilt your head sideways and narrow your eyes in question, “What plan are you talking about?” 

“Nothing for you,” he boops your nose with his pointer finger as he straightens up and gets out of the bed, “to worry your pretty little head about. Just come to the kitchen when you’re ready.” 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued but willing to play along. “So, you think I’m pretty?” you ask, batting your eyes at him exaggeratedly as he gently shoves you back into the bed. Getting up and stretching, which you shamelessly take the opportunity to ogle him, you watch him with a smile as he heads towards the kitchen following your son. Getting ready consists of brushing your teeth and hastily throwing on a robe for you, too anxious to see what you son and husband cooking up in the kitchen – literally.  

The scene in the kitchen is enough to melt your heart on its own – Rafael is standing on his trusty step stool at the counter, his little hands busy arranging an assortment of fruits on a plate. The concentration on his face is evident by the way his tongue peeks out slightly in that adorable way he does when he’s focused, a habit that he picked up from his father. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is busy with flipping something in a pan, shirtless might you add.  

“Oh my God, look at my boys!” You croon, leaning against the doorframe with a playful grin. “You even have matching hats and everything!” 

“Boys?” Carlos scoffs, turning to Rafael and pointing his finger towards you, “Can you believe her?” He then turns to you as he places his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest. “We are not boys, amor, we are men.” 

You chuckle at his exaggerated display of masculinity, shaking your head as you walk further into the kitchen. “Oh, of course, how could I forget? The two manliest men I know,” you tease, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. 

Rafael, picking up on the banter, puffs out his little chest just like his father, mimicking his stance. “Yeah, Mommy! We're strong, right, Papa?” 

Carlos grins, his eyes twinkling as he looks at Rafael. “That’s right, we’re the strongest men in the world." He turns back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And we make the best breakfast too. Isn’t that right, Raf?” 

“Yes!” Rafael exclaims, beaming with pride as he holds up the plate of perfectly arranged fruit. “Look what I made, Mommy!” 

You lean down to inspect his handiwork, smiling softly. “Wow, this looks incredible, sweetheart. You’re so talented!” You give him a big kiss on the cheek, making him giggle. 

Carlos steps closer, holding out a fork with a piece of pancake speared on it. “And how about a taste test, amor?” His voice is softer now, the playful tone giving way to something more tender. 

You take the fork from him, taking a bite of the pancake. The fluffiness and warmth of it fill your senses, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh. “This is amazing, Carlos. You’ve outdone yourself.” 

He watches you with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Only the best for you.” 

Rafael, not wanting to be left out, grabs a piece of fruit and holds it up to you. “Try mine too, Mommy!” 

You take the fruit from him, savouring the sweetness as you chew. “Delicious! You’re both going to spoil me with all this great food.” 

Carlos chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. “That’s the plan,” he murmurs against your skin, making you shiver slightly. “I can also spoil you in the other way you like,” his voice drops enough for only you to hear.  

You glance up at him, meeting his playful yet heated gaze, and feel a blush creep up your cheeks. “Carlos,” you murmur, half-warning, half-inviting, as Rafael happily oblivious to the exchange, chatters away about his breakfast creation. “I would like to still be able to walk by the time we get to the paddock.” 

But Carlos just smirks, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “Later, amor,” he promises, his voice thick with affection and mischief. 

Before you can respond, Rafael tugs at your robe, breaking the spell. “Mommy! Let’s eat now!” His voice is filled with the kind of innocent excitement that only a child can muster, and it instantly brings you back in the present moment. 

You smile down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Alright, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Carlos gives you one last knowing glance before stepping back to grab the plates. As the three of you settle down at the table, you try to ignore his lingering gaze that makes your heart race just a bit faster, though you’re not exactly that successful. 

It would be safe to say that it had been a crazy few years for Carlos Sainz. Or at least, that’s what Charles would say – if, you know, anybody was to ask him his opinion. First, he had lost his seat at Ferrari, and Charles really felt for him at first; after all, he was his teammate. But he was also the man who ended his marriage, so his feelings for Carlos changed for the worse very quickly. The whole situation had him coming to some revelations.  

First revelation he came to was the fact that he was wrong for cheating on his wife, however complicated the situation might be. He had tried to justify it to himself, blaming the stress and the strain, but deep down, he knew there was no excuse for what he’d done. 

Second revelation was that you deserved to be happy, with or without him – he was just being petty because it was with his old teammate. You deserved to be happy, and while Charles could admit that in theory, accepting that your happiness was now tied to Carlos was a bitter pill to swallow. 

Third, and probably the biggest, revelation was that he had royally screwed up when he chose the other woman over you and your son, and it was a loss that he mourned every single day. If he thought seeing Carlos thrive after his own life was crumbling down was hurting his ego, seeing Carlos be the father to his son, was a thousand times worse.  

Life took an interesting turn for Carlos after that night at the hotel in Monte Carlo. You had no expectations for him, you didn’t expect him to stay true to his words and be there for you and your baby. But that was the thing, because he kept his promise. He was at your door the next morning with a short list of apartments and penthouses in Monte Carlo. Anticipating your need of getting out of the country, he was prepared – he also looked at apartments in New York, houses in LA and townhouses in London (the few apartments he chose in Madrid also didn’t escape you, but it was a conversation you weren’t ready to have yet). So, when you were having, yet another breakdown in front of him, he just stood next to you and held you until you calmed down. He was always next to you, somehow managing his schedule for the racing season and coming out to see you between races. He kept true to his promise as he made waffles for you at midnight, grumbling about how pancakes were superior, and he held your hand when you were in the delivery room even though you were probably close to breaking the poor man’s hand. The bigger shock came when he announced that he would not be racing for the next season – something he had conveniently not told you in the months leading up to your pregnancy. It also led up to your first fight, and your first real confrontation since this unexpected journey began. The news that Carlos wouldn’t be racing the next season blindsided you. It wasn’t just the fact that he had made such a monumental decision without consulting you; it was the realisation that he had chosen you and your child over the sport he loved so deeply. 

“What do you mean you’re not racing next season?” you had asked, your voice edged with disbelief. You were standing in the kitchen of the new apartment he had helped you find, your baby—your son—napping peacefully in the next room. Carlos was casually leaning against the counter, arms crossed, as if he had just announced something as mundane as what was for dinner. 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you had come to recognize as a sign that he was about to say something serious. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he said, his voice calm, and God it drove you insane how calm and rational he was being with a decision so irrational to you. “And after everything that’s happened... I just think it’s the right decision for now.” 

“But racing is your life,” you insisted, the weight of his words settling in. “I don’t understand how you can just walk away from it.” 

Carlos met your gaze, his brown eyes steady and full of determination. “It’s not about walking away,” he explained. “It’s about priorities. You and Rafael... you’re my priority now. I want to be here for you both, not halfway across the world, missing out on everything.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. For so long, you had been used to being let down, to promises that were made and then broken. But here was Carlos, standing in front of you, willing to give up something he loved more than anything for you and your son. 

“That’s not fair to you,” you whispered, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams.” 

Carlos stepped closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “You’re not taking anything away from me,” he assured you. “You’re giving me something I didn’t even know I needed. I’m choosing this, because I want to. I want to be here for you, to be the father Rafael deserves. I want us to be a family.” 

His words broke through the wall you had been holding up, and you let the tears fall. It wasn’t just about the sacrifice he was making; it was about the fact that he was doing it willingly, without hesitation, because he wanted to be with you and Rafael. It was a love that was deeper than anything you had ever known, and it terrified you as much as it filled you with hope. 

“But what if you regret it?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your fears. 

“I won’t,” Carlos said firmly, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “I know what I want. And if I ever go back to racing, it’ll be when we’re ready. When we both decide it’s the right time. But for now, this is where I need to be.” 

You searched his eyes for any sign of doubt, but there was none. He was as serious as ever, and in that moment, you realized that this wasn’t just about him making a choice— it was about him choosing you, over and over again, in a way no one ever had before. 

The argument you had anticipated fizzled out before it could even begin. There was nothing left to fight about, not when he had laid his heart bare for you. All you could do was fall into his arms, holding onto him tightly as you let the weight of his decision sink in. It was overwhelming, knowing that someone loved you that much, that they would uproot their entire world just to be by your side. 

So, yeah, Carlos Sainz had not raced for the 2025 season. If it were up to him, he would stay with the two of you for the 2026 season as well, but you and Carlos Sainz Sr managed to convince him to get back to the real world, no matter how much he was enjoying being a stay-at-home dad. But the biggest shock for the world, and Charles, wasn’t that Carlos was returning to the F1 grid – no, the biggest shock was that he was returning to the F1 grid in one of the most coveted seats; right next to Max Verstappen. The reaction to the news had been mixed. Some were thrilled to see him back, eager to see what he could do in a car as competitive as the Red Bull. Others were skeptical, wondering if a year away from the sport had dulled his edge. For Charles, the news was a bitter pill to swallow. Carlos wasn’t just returning to the grid—he was stepping into one of the most sought-after seats in F1. But more than that, it was the reminder that Carlos had taken something else from him, something far more personal and painful. Watching Carlos step into his new role at Red Bull, knowing that he was now part of your life and Rafael’s life in a way Charles never could be, was a constant, aching reminder of everything he had lost. 

And so began the Leclerc-Sainz rivalry – which although sounds riveting, is probably the reason why you had to visit your cardiologist more times than necessary within the last couple of years. On the surface, it was the perfect storyline: two former teammates, now on opposing sides, battling it out on the track in some of the most intense and thrilling races the sport had ever seen. But for you, it was far from entertainment. Each race weekend became a new source of anxiety, and Carlos knew how much it affected you, so he tried his best to keep the rivalry on the track. He would reassure you, telling you that whatever happened during the race, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you or Rafael. But even he couldn’t deny that the tension between him and Charles was personal. It was more than just racing—it was about proving something, not just to the world, but to themselves and each other. And so, race after race, you found yourself on an emotional rollercoaster. The thrill of seeing Carlos perform at his best was always accompanied by the fear of what might happen if things went wrong. The rivalry wasn’t just a storyline for the media—it was a real, living thing that had a profound impact on your life. 

So, when Rafael told you that he wanted to watch his father race live, you were hesitant to agree. The thought of bringing your son into that world—where emotions ran high, and the stakes were even higher—filled you with dread. The last thing you wanted was for Rafael to witness the intensity of the rivalry that had consumed not just Carlos and Charles, but your entire life. 

Carlos, however, was adamant. He knew how much it meant to Rafael to see him race, to be a part of something that had been such a significant part of Carlos’s life before Rafael was born. “He needs to see it,” Carlos told you one evening as you sat together, discussing Rafael’s request. “He needs to know what I do, why it’s important to me, and why I went back to racing in the first place.”  

You couldn’t deny that Carlos had a point. Rafael idolized his father and seeing him in action would only strengthen the bond between them. But the idea of watching the race unfold, of seeing Carlos and Charles go head-to-head while your son was there, was almost too much to bear. The days leading up to the race were a blur of preparation and anxiety. Carlos did his best to reassure you, but the tension was palpable. He understood your fears and promised to keep things professional, but you both knew that once the lights went out, everything would be on the line. So, you weren’t exactly surprised that your boyfriend spent the entire morning buttering you up and getting you to relax as much as possible about the day ahead of you.  

And to be perfectly fair, he was right for the most part. It had been fine from the moment you made it into the paddock, which somehow worked wonders on your anxiety. As you made your way to the circuit, Rafael’s excitement was infectious. He was practically bouncing in his seat, his little face pressed against the window as he took in the sights. You couldn’t help but smile, his joy momentarily easing the knot of anxiety that had been tightening in your chest since the moment you agreed to come to the paddock in the first place.  

Seeing him so happy and in his element, you know instantly that the paddock, no matter in which country, is going to become his safe place. Rafael keeps asking Carlos questions about everything from how they manage to keep the cars so clean to what would happen if they didn’t wear helmets. And Carlos is patient as he answers all his questions, no matter how childish or obvious they might seem. So, when he told Rafael that maybe, just maybe, he might end up in one of the cars he admires so much one day, you know your son won’t miss the beat. “Can I?” He asks you, eyes widened with a pleading look as he clasps his hands together under his chin, “Please, Mommy, I promise I’ll be very careful.”  

“Absolutely not,” you shake your head, mind immediately starting to think about all the things that could go wrong, “it’s so dangerous! Just think about how afraid you’d be of the speed.”  

Rafael scoffs, arms crossed on his chest as he pleads through the pout he has on his face, “I’m not afraid of the speed! Papa, tell her I’m not afraid of the speed!” 

Carlos reaches over Rafael’s head as he takes off his cap and ruffles his hair, which manages to get a series of giggles from the little boy, and he affirms, “You are not afraid of the speed, but your mother is right.” You have to hold in your laughter when you see the indignant look on Rafael’s face, but Carlos continues talking as he signals for his son to listen, “We can talk about it when you are older, but for right now you are my lead strategist, capisce?” 

Rafael steers his pout towards you, and you shrug innocently in response, which gets a resigning sigh from him. “That’s fine, I guess.” He mumbles, and points to the garage door behind the table the three of you are sitting, “Can I look at your car again?” 

“Be careful, and make sure you tell Caco where you are.” Carlos reminds him, as Rafael excitedly scurries off toward the garage, leaving you and Carlos to share a quiet moment. 

Carlos leaned back in his chair, a content smile playing on his lips as he watched Rafael dart off. “He’s got the bug,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. 

You sigh, shaking your head playfully. “I know. He’s already got the attitude. I don’t think I’m ready for him to jump in a kart and never look back.” 

Carlos reaches for your hand, his touch grounding you. “We’ll keep him safe,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “I promise. Whatever happens, we’ll make sure he’s ready, and we’ll protect him from the worst of it.” 

You nod, squeezing his hand in return, trusting him like you always have. As you sit together, watching Rafael’s excitement fill the garage, the sweet moment is interrupted by a voice both of you know very well. “Seriously? You’re using him to get to me on a race day now?”  

Your fingers nearly crush your poor boyfriend’s hand as you look at the intruder, your heart immediately racing. You turn to see Charles standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. His eyes flicker from Carlos to you, then toward the garage where Rafael had just run off. “Excuse me?” You manage to get out, your voice sharp with surprise. The audacity of his accusation stings more than you expected. Charles' gaze hardens as he steps closer, clearly not backing down. 

“You heard me,” Charles says, his tone edged with bitterness. “Bringing Rafael here, right in the middle of everything... it’s not a coincidence. You’re just trying to—” 

“To what?” Carlos cuts in, his voice calm but firm. His protective instincts kick in as he stands, placing himself between you and Charles. “To have a good day with our son? To let him enjoy the race?” 

Charles scoffs, shaking his head. “He’s not your son, he’s mine. Stop fooling yourself into thinking you’re his father just because you’re here.” 

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, everything goes silent. Carlos' expression tightens, but he doesn’t move, his body still a shield between you and Charles. You feel your breath catch in your throat, the weight of Charles’ words hanging heavy in the air. “I know who his father is, Charles,” Carlos says, his voice calm but steely. “And considering the fact that he doesn’t even know you exist, I’d say me being here is more than proof that I am his father.” 

Charles' jaw clenches, and his eyes flicker with something raw—pain, jealousy, frustration, all mixed together. “You think you can just step in and take my place? Be the dad, play happy family with my son?” 

“Cabrón,” Carlos warns, and though you’ve heard him use that nickname for his friends countless of times, this voice is devoid of all affection, “you lost all right to call yourself Rafael’s father when you decided to choose whatever flavour of the month you were with at the time.” You feel your heart race, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of the moment and the murderous look on Carlos’ face. Carlos steps forward, his voice low but terse. “You think being a father is about biology? About showing up when it’s convenient for you? Rafael doesn’t even know who you are because you’ve never been there for him. I have. I’ve been the one tucking him in, I've been there when he was sick and crying, and I’m the one showing him love every single day.”  

Charles flinches, the sting of the truth evident in his expression. For a moment, the fire in his eyes dims, replaced by something else— regret, perhaps. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and he straightens his posture, trying to regain control of the situation. “I made mistakes,” Charles says, his voice quiet but defiant. “But you can’t just erase me from his life. He has a right to know who his real father is.” 

Carlos’ gaze doesn’t waver, his protective instincts blazing. “Rafael knows who his real father is. He may not understand all the details yet, but he knows who’s been there for him. And when the time comes, when he’s ready, we’ll tell him the truth. But that decision isn’t yours to make anymore, Charles. You gave up that right a long time ago.” 

“You’re just going to sit there and let him talk to me like this?” Charles hisses, turning towards you in an attempt to find sympathy. His eyes are pleading, but there’s anger simmering beneath the surface. 

Your chest tightens as you meet his gaze, feeling the weight of everything that has been left unsaid between the three of you for so long. You take a deep breath, your voice soft but firm when you finally respond. “It’s time to let go, Charles.” Charles' face falls at your words, the weight of their finality hitting him hard. His lips part slightly as if he wants to argue, but no words come. The tension in the air is suffocating, each second stretching out painfully. Carlos remains silent, standing tall beside you, his hand subtly resting on your back for support. He knows this conversation is yours to finish. “It’s not about erasing you from Rafael’s life,” you continue, your voice steady though your heart is pounding in your chest. “It’s about doing what’s best for him. And right now, that means protecting him from the confusion and hurt that the fact that you were too much of a coward to choose him.” 

Charles takes a step back, the anger in his expression dimming into something more fragile. His eyes search yours, perhaps looking for a trace of the bond you once shared, but it’s clear that things have changed too much. Too much time has passed. “I’m not trying to hurt him,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I apologised countless of times, what more do you want from me? I am sorry, okay?” 

“Are you quite done?” Charles flinches at your sharp tone, the weight of your words settling heavily between the three of you. His gaze drops to the ground as if he’s searching for something to say, but nothing comes. Carlos stands steady beside you, his presence strong, comforting, even. “I am sorry, too, about it all.”  

You can feel Carlos’ confused stare on you, and Charles looks at you with the same expression as he asks, “You... do?” 

“I’m sorry that you were cheating on me from the start, I’m sorry you were too weak to stay faithful to me after we got married,” you continue, the words heavy but resolute as they fall from your lips. Charles' expression shifts, a mixture of guilt and pain crossing his face. Carlos’ hand tightens slightly on your back, offering silent support as you finally lay bare what you’ve held inside for so long. “I’m sorry I ignored it for as long as I did, and I’m sorry that I ever found out.” Charles’ face hardens, his eyes clouded with guilt and perhaps a hint of defensiveness as your words hit him. The weight of what you're saying seems to pull him down, and he takes a deep breath as if trying to absorb the impact. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, not willing to let this moment slip away before you say everything that’s been weighing on your heart. “I’m sorry I ever found out about the lies, but most of all, I’m sorry for Rafael. He deserved better, he deserved a father who was present and loved him without conditions,” you say, your eyes locking with Charles’. “You weren’t there, Charles, you weren’t there before Rafael, and you weren’t going to be there after him. So, I suppose what I’m not sorry for is falling in love with a man who was courageous enough to fill that role for both me and him.” Charles’ lips part as if to argue, but no words form. His eyes betray the guilt and regret he’s been carrying, but there’s nothing left for him to say. He knows it. You know it. Even the mechanics and people around you who have stopped what they are doing to watch this whole thing go down know it. “Finally, I’m sorry that you felt the need and audacity to come down here, now not only have you ruined our marriage, but you’ve also ruined my day-off which I intended to spend with my boyfriend, and our son.” 

Charles flinches at your final words, his face crumpling under the weight of it all. The sting of your truth, laid bare for everyone to hear, leaves him speechless. His bravado has completely evaporated, replaced by a hollow sense of regret and defeat. He opens his mouth as if to respond but quickly closes it, realizing there’s nothing he can say that will undo the damage he caused, the pain he inflicted, or the years he lost. His eyes flicker to Carlos, who stands steady, unmoved by Charles’ turmoil. There’s no room for pity here. “I—” Charles begins but stops as Carlos raises his hand.  

“I think you’ve said enough,” his voice lacks all sympathy for his old friend, his old teammate, “it’s best you should go before you distress my girlfriend, or my son any further.  

Charles’ eyes widen slightly at Carlos’ words, the final blow landing hard. He looks as if he’s been physically struck, his shoulders slumping as any remaining fight drains from him. His gaze flickers between you and Carlos, searching for something—anything—but finding no redemption, no sympathy. There’s nothing left to say. 

He swallows hard, his lips pressed into a tight line, before finally nodding in a reluctant acceptance. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. He turns on his heel, walking away with slow, defeated steps. The tension that had gripped the air slowly begins to dissipate as he disappears into the distance, leaving only the echoes of his footsteps behind. 

Carlos turns to you, his hand still resting on your back, but now it’s a comforting gesture rather than a protective one. His expression softens as he searches your face. “Are you okay?” he asks gently. 

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that’s just happened, but also a sense of relief. “I think so,” you reply, your voice steady despite the emotional whirlwind you’ve just gone through. “It needed to happen.” 

Carlos nods, his thumb brushing soothingly against your back. “He’s not going to ruin this for us. Not today, not ever.” 

You smile faintly, grateful for his support. “No, he’s not. He’s gone now, and I’m finally free of it all.” 

“We’re free of him,” Carlos adds, a reassuring strength in his voice. “You, me, and Rafael. That’s what matters.” 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful on the track today,” you plead, chin resting on his chest as you look up to him.  

Carlos chuckles softly, his warm smile easing the tension that still lingers. “I promise,” he says, his voice light but sincere. He tilts his head, giving you a playful wink. “But you know me, I can’t drive too carefully. It's in my nature to push the limits a bit.” 

You roll your eyes with a small laugh, but your heart flutters slightly at the thought of him racing. It’s something you’ve grown used to, but there’s always that edge of worry. "Just... don’t make me regret asking," you tease, though the concern in your voice is real. 

Carlos leans down, brushing his lips gently against your forehead, the gesture filled with tenderness. "I’ll come back to you both, safe and sound," he whispers softly, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment. "Always." 

You smile, feeling reassured by his words, and you give him a small nod. "Alright. Go show them what you’re made of, then." 

As Carlos pulls away, you can see the familiar spark in his eyes, the passion and excitement that he always carries before a race. He gives your hand one last squeeze before turning to head toward the car. You watch him for a moment, taking in the sight of him—confident, composed, and ready for whatever comes next. Just before he reaches the garage doors, he turns back and flashes you that signature grin that always makes your heart skip a beat. “For you and Rafael,” he calls out. Your smile widens as you watch him go, knowing that no matter what happens on the track today, you’ll always have each other. 

It’s not hard for you to find Rafael when you head back to the garage yourself. He’s completely engrossed in conversation with one of Carlos' engineers, pointing out different tools and parts of the car with wide-eyed fascination. His little hands gesture excitedly, and the engineer listens with a warm smile, clearly amused by Rafael’s enthusiasm. Carlos stands off to the side, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching his son with a look of pure affection and pride. His eyes sparkle as he takes in the sight of Rafael’s excitement, and there’s a certain softness to his expression that makes your heart swell. 

You walk over, standing beside Carlos, who doesn’t take his eyes off Rafael but greets you with a small grin. “He’s already talking like he’s part of the team,” Carlos says quietly, his voice filled with pride. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s taking over the pit crew in a few years.” 

You chuckle softly, watching Rafael explain something animatedly, his little voice echoing through the garage. “He’s got your passion,” you say, leaning into Carlos slightly, feeling the warmth of his presence. 

Carlos hums in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist. “Maybe,” he says, his tone affectionate, “but the way he talks about everything… that’s all you. He’s got your curiosity, your heart, so, all my favourite parts of you.” 

“My boyfriend the charmer,” you mumble as you lightly hit him on his chest.

Carlos chuckles, catching your hand gently against his chest before pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just telling the truth,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling as he holds your gaze for a moment longer. “You deserve all the charm in the world.” 

You roll your eyes playfully, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re good at this, or I might think you’re just trying to get out of bath time for the next few days.” 

Carlos laughs, his warm, deep voice sending a wave of comfort through you. “I’d never do that. Bath time is part of the job.” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice with a mischievous grin. “But if I do this race right, maybe we can negotiate something.” 

You raise an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, but you can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he always manages to make you feel light and cared for, even in the most mundane moments. “Alright, we’ll see how you perform today,” you tease back “if you win, I’ll let you put a baby in me, how about that?” 

Carlos freezes for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise before a slow, playful grin spreads across his face. “You’re serious?” he asks, his voice filled with both excitement and disbelief. 

You nod, biting your lip, unable to hide your own smile. “If you win today, we can start thinking about it.” 

Carlos lets out a short laugh, running a hand through his hair as if trying to process what you just said. “Well, I’ve never been more motivated to win a race in my life,” he says, his eyes gleaming with a new intensity. 

You chuckle, your heart racing at the look on his face. "Just make sure you’re focused on the track and not… well, other things." 

“Oh, I’ll be focused,” Carlos says, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “But now, I’ve got the best reason in the world to win.” He leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. “For you, and for giving Rafael a baby sister or a brother.” Your breath catches at the sincerity in his voice, and as he pulls back, he flashes you that charming grin again before heading off toward the car. You watch him go, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness settle in your chest. 

Eventually going behind the barriers and watching the race is harder than you’ve expected, you realise. As the laps go by, you keep glancing at Rafael, who’s glued to the action, his eyes wide with admiration for his dad. You smile at the way he clutches his little racing helmet, a miniature version of Carlos’ gear, his excitement evident. It’s clear he’s living every moment of the race through his dad’s performance, just as you are. When Carlos is in the lead, you hold your breath, willing him to stay ahead. When he’s fighting for position, you’re on the edge of your seat, cheering him on with every ounce of energy you have. 

As the final laps approach, you glance at the clock and then at Rafael, who’s practically bouncing with excitement. You can tell he’s just as invested in the outcome as you are. You squeeze his hand, giving him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a determined nod. 

When Carlos crosses the finish line, the roar of the crowd is deafening, and you let out a cheer of your own, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. You look down at Rafael, who’s jumping up and down, his face beaming with pride and excitement. “He did it!” you shout, lifting him up in your arms as you join in the celebration. 

Caco and a couple of the mechanics help you and Rafael to get to the barriers, weaving through the throng of celebrating fans and team members. As you approach the barriers, Rafael’s excitement is noticeable. His eyes are wide with wonder, and he clutches his mini helmet tightly, bouncing with every step. Caco, with his warm, reassuring smile, offers a few words of congratulations and gives Rafael a high-five. Carlos comes into view, his car parked in the parc fermé. His grin is infectious, and you can see the joy and relief in his eyes as he looks up at you and Rafael. The moment he gets out of the car, he’s enveloped by his team, but his gaze quickly finds you and Rafael. He finds his way to you after getting weighed and you can see him grab his cap before finally rushing towards you. Carlos scoops Rafael up into his arms, spinning him around as they both laugh, and then turns to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and affection. 

“Well, looks like we’ve got a baby sister or brother to start thinking about,” Carlos says with a wink, setting Rafael down so he can pull you a in for a kiss. 

You smile against his lips, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the joy of this moment. When you pull away, you look up at Carlos, your eyes sparkling with love and excitement. “We do, don’t we?” you say softly, your heart full as you take in the sight of your family together in this victorious moment. 

Rafael, still buzzing with excitement, tugs on Carlos’ sleeve, his little voice bubbling over with enthusiasm. “Papa, did you see me cheering? I was so loud!” 

Carlos laughs, his eyes crinkling with joy. “I heard you, buddy. You were the loudest cheerleader out there.” 

As the celebration continues around you, you feel a profound sense of contentment. The day’s events, the race, the emotions—everything has come together perfectly. You take a deep breath, savouring the feeling of being surrounded by the people you love most. 

Carlos pulls you close, wrapping his arms around both you and Rafael. “Thank you for everything today,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “You’ve made this day even more special.” 

You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart. “It’s been an incredible day,” you agree, looking out at the jubilant scene around you. “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.” 

As you watch him savour the moments with your son before he needs to go for his interview and the podium celebrations, you realise just how lucky you are to have something that only happens every few lifetimes. 

[eimearkuopio]

Reading House of Leaves was one of the most reassuring experiences of my life, because for the first time it turned out the hidden messages I kept finding were actually real because Mark Z. Danielewski really did say fuck buttons.

I mean I can't guarantee EVERYTHING I find is real but it's not ALL the mental illness.

[revelboo]

went through all of "everything is alright" and I'm far too attached to it already (and also heartbroken as of the current chapter 💔💔), thank you for the amazing writing and quick updates!!

(also you made me finally purchase some of the blokees I had my eye on🫶)

Thank you for reading my nonsense! The Blokees figures are some of my favorites- I love little figures

Everything is Alright Pt 80

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “Everything.” One little word that sends cracks running through him, lets the ice seep in. The numb anger. Because he knows the things he’s done to further the Decepticon cause. Some of them of his own volition to enhance his position, others under Megatron’s name. Your eyes looking up at him, hurt and almost pleading with him to deny it. To tell you it’s all a lie, because you don’t want to know the truth of him. That he did the hard things, he did what was necessary. You hadn’t resisted when he’d picked you up. Maybe as broken as he feels. No matter how much he’d wanted to shield you from the reality of this war, to let it be something you don’t need to think too much on, there’s no hiding it anymore.

• “Now you know,” he growls, rasping voice colder than you’ve ever heard it. Wishing he’d denied it even if it was a lie. You’re not a child, it’s not like you don’t understand that they’re at war, but some of those things were just cruel. Violence for the sheer delight of causing pain and you don’t want that to be who he really is. Don’t want to love someone who could do that. Want to pretend that it’s still alright. That it’s just you and him learning each other, growing closer without reality slipping in. Because right now, your heart is breaking.

• Watching you hurts, because Soundwave can feel that despair, that aching sting of grief. And he doesn’t know how to fix this. If it even can be fixed. As Starscream turns to leave with you, he reaches out, catches his arm. “Wait,” he says. Wanting to take you, keep you with him, because right now he doesn’t trust the Seeker’s mindset at all. And Starscream rounds on him, denta bared and a cannon in his face. Realizes that the SIC has nothing left to lose, optics furious with hate. So it’s a surprise when Starscream lowers his arm and walks past. As if he’s not even worth the bother. Taking you away as his spark aches, because this isn’t what he wanted at all.

• It’s oddly freeing realizing it’s all gone, everything taken away from him. You’re still there in his hand, but that trust is broken. And he just wants to scream, to destroy something. Because having you with him and so distant and quiet is worse than just losing you. Wonders if you’ll be able to bear looking at him anymore. If you’ll speak to him or just hide from him. See only a monster. Entering his quarters, he looks down at you, meeting your eyes. Megatron said the words, but this is the culmination of a lifetime of his decisions. “Talk to me, please.” Those soft words make his spark ache. Cut through the indifference he wants to protect himself with. “Star?”

• “Do you want me to deny everything?” He asks. And you really do, but you just shake your head. “I made mistakes. I was cruel and ambitious,” he says slowly, a servo sliding against your hip as he keeps you trapped in his hand, standing in the middle of his habsuite. Like he’s afraid to put you down in case you try to get away. “And I’m not entirely sure I can be anything else at this point.” Jaw working like the admission cost him something, you close your eyes. But… That’s not exactly true is it? He’s been changing, softening every day. Those big hands capable of violence, but never towards you. If he’s been monstrous in his past, that’s not the him you know. Even if those horrors laid out for you can still hurt you, they’re not him anymore. Right? Because you need to believe that or you’ll come apart completely.

• “I want to hear it all from you. The truth, good and bad,” you whisper, a tear sliding down your cheek. Not pushing him away or abandoning him. Not yet and he doesn’t know what to make of you. You already know. Megatron would have told you in grisly detail, so why ask for more pain? Are you trying to understand him? Making an effort to reach out to him still? Servo sliding over your cheek to wipe away the tear, you touch his hand. Remembering your hesitant admission that you liked him what feels like forever ago. He’d never told you how he felt about you in return, though. Not really. Unable to bring himself to admit that he needs you beside him, to make himself vulnerable that way with words. That he can’t sleep without you there, that you’re everything now, his world narrowed down to you, tied to the beat of your heart, to your smiles. It’s why he’d bonded you to him without asking, because he needed you and he was afraid of being denied so he’d taken. Optics shuttering, he sits on the berth with you. And slowly, hesitantly, he begins to speak. To get all the awfulness out.

• It’s funny. Breaking the Seeker’s little pet didn’t give him the satisfaction Megatron expected. Only left him more exhausted than before. Sitting on the edge of his berth, he keeps picturing your eyes leaking. Your pain. And it doesn’t matter. You’re just a human, you’re nothing. But he keeps thinking about it all the same. Telling himself that he doesn’t care. That you’re one more casualty of the war and that those ghosts don’t bother him.

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[leighsartworks216]

You Don't Have To Say It

Sylus x gn!Reader

Makes references to past stories in the Raven universe

Inspired by this fic by @wriokitty <333

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, cuddling, kissing, literal sleeping together, declarations of love, swearing

Word Count: 787

Main Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You stare at him in the dark, seeking out the planes of his face. The form of his nose. The gentle parting of his lips. Breaths rise and fall in his chest.

You think he's asleep. It's hard to tell; he's so damn good at pretending. The only advantage you have right now is the alcohol in his system, lauded onto him by the twins during the New Years celebration. With Miss Hunter's encouragement, he drank a little more than usual, and, for once in a long while, became tipsy. Just enough to force him to sleep it off; not enough to leave him completely plastered.

So, you think he really is asleep this time.

Still... one can never be too sure.

You slowly reach out. Your fingertips brush over his bicep, against firm muscle, solid and powerful. He breathes in a little deeper. His pretty hair falls into his face as he shifts his head on his pillow with a long exhale. Fast asleep.

You pull your hand away with a smile. It's so surreal to be here, with him, completely unguarded and at ease.

He let his guard down first. He showed you that it's okay to trust someone other than yourself. And every day, you're grateful for it. You have no idea where you'd be now if you hadn't. Probably still under the Devil's thumb, or worse.

You can't think about it. Not now. Not when Sylus is so at peace.

After so long of containing your words, keeping them to yourself and letting them die unsaid, there is so much now you want to say. So much you want to get out. So much you should say now, while he's the perfect prey for it...

But these words... How can you say them? They're so... important. Worth so much more than a whisper to someone who can't even hear them...

You reach out once more, settling a hand on his chest. His heartbeat is a little slower than normal, but no less erratic, jumping around wildly. He shifts in his sleep, reaching out for you like a child grasping for a plushie. You willingly take up the mantle, sliding from your side of the bed into his awaiting arms. They wrap firmly around you, pulling you to his chest. A leg hooks over your hip. His face buries into your neck.

You wrap your arms around him in return. His heat sinks into your body, warmth chasing away any cold inch of skin. You slip one hand up to play with his hair. He sighs softly, breath fanning across your skin like a sweet caress.

Those words ache to be said. To be screamed if it means their meaning will get across. All the agony of a lifetime of loneliness. The pain of abuse and fear. The relief of patience. The bliss of kindness. All of it culminating into these damn words.

Just thinking about saying them scares you. Of all the things you've done and seen, this ranks amongst the most difficult of them all.

"I..." Your voice feels too loud in the silent room. He doesn't move. Doesn't react. You close your eyes and tamp down the fear in your heart. "I love you."

There. At last.

You let out a shaky breath and tuck your face into his shoulder. Safe. Secure. Wholly and completely at his mercy, to do with as he pleases - and all he does is turn to kiss sleepily at your skin.

He hums, a low rumble in his chest that vibrates through your body. "I love you, too, sweetheart..."

"You're supposed to be asleep," you bite back. The harshness in your tone is betrayed by the slight tremble in your arms as you squeeze him tighter. You feel his smirk against your skin. Feel the way they curl and press along your jaw.

"Say it again for me?"

"You're drunk."

"Just once more?"

"Go back to bed, Sylus."

"Will you say it then?"

"..."

A beat passes, where you think he may have relented and fallen back asleep.

Then, a loud snore sounds out right by your ear.

You burst into laughter against your desire to stay indifferent. His low chuckle joins you, filling your soul with an effortless affection for the man.

He kisses your neck and shoulder between giggles as your shared laughter dies down. "You don't have to say it," he assures you sincerely. "It doesn't change anything."

You turn your head to get a glimpse of his face. "What if I never say it ever again?"

He turns to meet you. Your noses brush against each other, breaths mingling. His eyes glimmer in the dark like a pair of red protocores. "I'll know."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[lipringlrh]

look who's staring now | LN4

summary: your boyfriends so pretty whilst he sleeps, how could you not stare at him?

pairing: lando norris x genderneutral!reader

an: short and sweet. more dialogue than i'm use to so please do let me know how you find it!

word count: ~800

warnings: cuddly lando, (pretends to not be) cuddly reader, fluff

feedback appreciated!

...

It wasn't late at night but it wasn't exactly early either. Lando was asleep - completely knocked out, or so you thought - in your arms, on top of your chest. You were meant to be asleep but you just couldn't help but stare at your boyfriend. He looked so peaceful and relaxed with a small hint of a smile on his face, how could you not stare at him?

Lando had been drifting briefly in and out of sleep for a while but he didn't particularly mind. He'd gone to bed rather early and whenever he was awake, he was comforted by your arms. This time though, he felt compelled to actually open his eyes instead of just falling back asleep; he swore he could feel eyes on him and god forbid he miss a chance to tease you about it.

He was quick to open his eyes and meet yours, making sure there was no chance you could hide the fact that you'd been staring at him.

"Hi, baby," he whispered teasingly, his voice slightly croaky from sleep.

He caught you staring and you did not like it at all. Usually in the relationship, you weren't the touchy-feely one, as much as you wanted to be. You held back a lot, trying to be independent. Lando didn't really care and often became extra touchy enough for the both of you or so he liked to claim.

Along with this, you pretended to never be the lovey-dovey kind, always making Lando persuade you into hugs and cuddles. He knew it was just an act though, with you being happy to cuddle at any point of the day.

"You okay, sweetheart? Got a nice view or something?" He whispered, grabbing your hand and moving it to scratch his head. It was almost subconscious now, making you scratch his head, but you both secretly loved it.

You looked away from him, knowing he could tell you were flustered, another thing he would tease you with.

"I'm perfect me. Yeah - completely. You - how was your sleep going?" You asked, still turned away.

You took one glance at him and you knew instantly it made you seem more flustered. He was looking at you with a knowing gaze, spilling his thoughts of "I know what you're thinking, don't hide it.

"It's just really hot at the moment," you tried to justify, not ready to give yourself away just yet.

"Isn't that just me next to you, hmm?" He murmured, pressing short but sweet kisses to your chest.

You couldn't help but laugh lightly at him, "I'll just let you believe what you want to believe."

"Okay, baby," he smiled, moving his trail of kisses up to your cheek, "you do that. I know it's true,"

He left a peck on your lips just in time to cut off any reply you thought about giving, "I love you, sweetheart."

He couldn't express enough his feelings for you and it felt wrong to squash them down into three small words. But even with every word from every language, and telling you in every lifetime, he doesn't believe he'd ever get to convey it fully. You knew the feeling because it was the exact way you felt too.

"I love you too, Lan," you whispered, kissing him once more, "go back to sleep, before you get too big-headed though."

"Got to stop staring at me then, baby, could just feel it. I know I'm too sexy but-"

He was cut off by you lightly swatting him, then giggling to yourself. He couldn't help but watch, solely enamoured by you.

"Look who's staring now."

"It's 'cause I think you're beautiful and pretty and sexy," he gulped, not being able to describe you as well as you deserve.

"Yeah?"

"You gonna tell me I'm sexy now?" He looked up, wiggling his eyebrows slightly.

"You're really sexy, Lan, you should know that." You smiled at him, running your thumb across his cheek.

"So that's why you were staring at me whilst I'm asleep?" He titled his head, mocking you again in the way you both loved.

"Go back to bed."

"But-"

You cut his off, pressing your hand over his mouth, "Shush, bed."

You waited a moment before removing your hand.

"One last kiss please," he leaned up, almost pouting at you.

Of course, you had to comply, why would you not, and gave him many sweet pecks all over his face.

"I love you, Lando."

"I love you too angel," he promised, lowing his head back on top of your chest, smiling as your hand moved to his hair, and you both finally shut your eyes.

"Don't worry, your staring's cute."

f1 masterlist |

[janeyseymour]

I Hate You, I Love You- part 2

Part 1.

Summary: You swallow your pride and ask Melissa to do you the favor of a lifetime.

WC: ~2.5k

Monday morning comes all too soon for you. Today is the day that you have to swallow all of your pride and your hatred for the redheaded woman and all but beg her to pretend to be your faux girlfriend for the holidays.

You’re sitting at your desk trying to grade the last few spelling tests you skipped out on over the weekend when you hear her make her way in, keys jingling and boots clanking against the tile loudly. God- you do not want to do this. But it’s now, or it’s in the staff lounge with everybody watching and listening in. So, you stand from your desk, run your fingers through your hair nervously, and make your way over to her door.

Her back is turned to you, she’s leaning over to put her bags on the ground, and… damn. Her figure is insane. You take a few silent moments to appreciate it without her being aware that you’re there. Quietly, you knock on her doorframe and lean against it, arms crossed over your chest. Are you pushing your breasts up just the slightest bit? Maybe. If you have to swallow your pride and nearly die of embarrassment, you might as well look hot doing it.

She turns just her top half, still leaning over, and you have the perfect view of her… Shit. Stop looking. 

“What could you possibly need right now?” She huffs out. “It’s freakin’ Monday at 7:30.”

You harden at the greeting she’s given you. “Trust me,” you roll your eyes. “I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do. But, I got to talk to you. Alone.”

“Oh?” The redhead raises her brow and sits in her seat before looking at you confused. “Come to finally tell me that you’re-”

“I need a favor,” you sigh. “Like, a really big one.”

“I can’t get you outta a ticket,” Melissa snorts. “You know that.”

“I don’t need that. I need… I need you to…” Just fucking say it. “I need you to pretend to my girlfriend over the holidays.”

Her jaw drops. It’s clear that’s not what she was expecting you to say in the slightest. “What?”

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend over the holidays, and before you shoot me down, at least let me give you the sob story and think about it. Please?”

She begins howling with laughter. “Sure, let’s hear it.”

You explain what had happened on Saturday, and you hate the way that she’s getting such pleasure out of your misfortune. “And they all mentioned something about it yesterday as I was leaving too, so I know I can’t get out of embarrassment either way- having you there somehow seems like the better option.”

“Why’d you say my name?” your colleague asks, and it’s clear she genuinely wants to know. But then she gives you that ridiculous smirk again. ���Is it because you know I’m the hottest person you could think of?”

“Please,” you snort. “I was going through the list of single people I knew in my head, and I knew I couldn’t say someone that my mom already knew… unfortunately, your name came out of my mouth before I could stop it. And now they know what you look like, so it’s not like I can ask anyone else to pretend to be you. But you wish I thought you were hot.”

That’s a bluff. You think she’s hot as hell, but she can’t know that. And what you don’t know is that Melissa wishes you didn’t hate her the way that you do, and she wishes that she didn’t have to pretend to hate you to get your attention. 

“What’s in it for me?” she chooses to ask.

You roll your eyes. “My mom’s cooking, and you get out of having to deal with Kristen Marie on Christmas.”

“And…?”

“A hundred bucks.”

“A hundred bucks a day.”

“No way.”

“How many days are we talkin’?”

“Probably the weekend,” you sigh. “That’s three hundred bucks and an hour car ride there and back; usually stay with them during the holidays so I don’t have to drive back and forth, and if I don’t, they’ll know something’s up.”

“Three hundred bucks,” Melissa states again. She knows she won’t take your money, but she wants to see how desperate you are.

You groan. “Fine.”

“And then what are you gonna tell them after?”

“That we broke up,” you tell her as if it’s obvious. “Trust me. This is just going to be a weekend thing, and then I’ll only have to talk to you at work.”

“Fine. Don’t go fallin’ in love with me, babe,” the redhead winks at you.

You absolutely despise the way that the red creeps into your cheeks. “Don’t worry. That’s the last thing I’ll be doing.”

As the holiday season approaches, your mother continues to pester you about bringing your ‘girlfriend’ around before the actual holiday. Luckily, you can use the excuse that you are extremely busy with your students, as is Melissa. It’s not a lie- you feel like you’re drowning this year. You know your colleague isn’t fairing much better with her students.

But the Friday before winter break starts, exactly a week before you have to make your way back to your parents house, you step into Melissa’s room again early in the morning.

“Come over tonight. We need to figure out all of the details of our relationship so we don’t flop in front of my family next week,” you tell the redhead.

Melissa shakes her head though. “You come to me. Ain’t no way I’m goin’ to your place and eating takeout when I can just make us dinner.”

“Fine.”

“Six. Bring wine.”

After a long day of school with children all too eager to be done for the week, they’re sent home, and you’re able to leave the school for the weekend. You’re looking forward to the last few days of teaching before the break and then Christmas break itself… until you remember that you have to spend Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the day after with Melissa. God, this is going to suck.

Still, you’re caught in your web of lies, and you know you can’t back out now- not this late in the game. So, at six o’clock, you’re on Melissa’s front stoop, knocking with a few bottles of wine in hand.

When the redhead opens the door, you hate yourself for ogling her. She’s standing there in a tank top and sweatpants, hair knotted up in a messy bun, and covered in flour. “Jesus. I said a bottle, not three.”

“Well, I didn’t know what you liked, and we’re gonna have to be drunk to make this work,” you shrug.

“Red,” is all she says as she steps out of the way to let you in. “Don’t forget that for when you’re getting me wine at your parents.”

You make a mental note of that, and then you make your way in. “I hate you.”

“I know,” is all Melissa responds with. “But it wasn’t me who said we were dating, now was it?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” Green eyes bore into your own for a few seconds, clearly challenging you.

You just set your things down on her counter with a scowl. 

As much as you hate to say it, her cooking is delightful. The wine pairs well with the food. And you aren’t complaining about the view. Melissa looks… she’s hot as fucking hell, and you’ve caught yourself staring at her rack quite a few times during dinner.

You insist on cleaning up dinner, and she fights you on it. There’s something about it that makes you feel a certain way. It’s almost like you love to hate her.

Before you know it, the two of you are settled on the couch, each with yet another glass on wine in hand, and you’re attempting to hash out your fake love story.

“I told them we’ve been dating for a while,” you sigh. “So… I’m thinking four months? Long enough for you to show up to Christmas, but short enough for them to not know about you.”

“Sure,” she agrees without much of a fight. “I’m assuming we just met through work?”

“I figure the more truthful this lie is, the easier it’ll be to keep up with,” you shrug.

Melissa nods along. “That’s a good plan.”

“The other thing is…” you rub your collarbone nervously. “When I’m in a relationship, I tend to be quite touchy, so we have to- we have to do that.”

The redhead shrugs. “Whatever we have to do in order for me to get my three hundred bucks.”

You spend another two hours learning about each other, drinking wine as you go. She’s learned about your parents, your aunts and uncles, where you went to college, what your favorite color is, what kind of wines and cocktails you prefer, the foods that will be at dinners that you won’t go near, what you like to do in your free time… and in turn, you’ve heard all about her enormous family, how long she’s been at Abbott, how she loves to crochet but never knit, the fact that she has a guitar in her classroom that she doesn’t know how to play other than basic chords, among other things. The two of you agree that Melissa was the one to make the move on you after a happy hour with the work crew. You were the first one to say ‘I love you’, and those at school aren’t aware of the budding relationship between the two of you.

It’s a revealing night, and you find yourself not wanting to beat the shit out of the woman next to you. You would almost venture to say that you’re enjoying you’re time with her- almost. 

It’s fairly safe to say when you’re finished going over family trees, your back story, and basic information about each other that you’re both wine drunk. You’ve gone through two bottles, and you’re halfway through the third.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think I’m lettin’ you drive home like this,” your coworker laughs as she watches you attempt to gather your things. “Just stay the night.”

“Like hell I’m doin’ that.”

“You’re gonna have to spend a weekend with me sharing the same bed, in your parents’ house. Get over yourself,” Melissa tells you. “Seriously. Just stay- I got a spare bedroom you can use.”

“Fine.”

The next morning, she’s awake before you and somehow not hungover the way that you are. Melissa’s already left the house actually. She left you a note to make you aware of that.

Had to run out to do some grocery shopping. Don’t miss me too much. She finishes the note with a winking face, and she signs it ‘Mel’.

You roll your eyes, but you pick up the pen before scrawling out, Thanks for letting me stay the night. And then just to fuck with her, you scribble down an ‘xo’. And then you head back to your own apartment, entirely forgetting that you’re still clad in her sweatpants and About shirt.

With a heavy sigh, you shoot her a text. I left, but I forgot I’m wearing your stuff.

Just keep it for now. Bring it when we go to your parents’ house so it looks like you’ve had it for a while.

I hate to say it, but good idea.

I’m full of good ideas, babe.

You spend most of your Saturday nursing a hangover, Sunday is spent preparing things for the final few days of school before Christmas break. With Christmas Eve being on a Friday and Christmas being on a Saturday, that means you have up until Wednesday with your kids. Wednesday is the class holiday party, and you would prefer to have everything set and ready for you to just throw in the trunk of your car come the day of the celebration before you send the kids off.

Then, once your kids are sent off to their parents high on sugar and eager for the break from learning, you’re stuck with the knowledge that you have to spend some of your own retreat with the woman that you love to hate.

“I think we should have dinner again,” Melissa knocks on your door as you’re gathering your belongings. “Come over, I’ll make dinner, and we can go through our story again.”

“I’m bringing the wine?”

Your coworker smirks. “Yeah.”

This dinner ends the exact same way that your last dinner with the redhead did. You’re asleep in Melissa’s guest room dressed in a pair of her sweatpants and an old Abbott tee-shirt.

When you wake up this time around though, Melissa isn’t out. She’s actually downstairs sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.

“The newspaper? Are you serious?” you tease her.

Your colleague just rolls her eyes. “I like having the fine print- reminds me of when my dad used to read it.”

“Well, lucky for you, my parents still get the paper delivered every morning,” you chuckle. “I don’t know how, but they manage it.”

Melissa purses her lips and sips her coffee. “Good to know.”

You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly before sighing. “Well, I’m gonna head out, but I’ll pick you up Friday at ten? My mom likes when I come over early so I can help her set everything up.”

The redhead just nods.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night again,” you say quietly before you grab your bag and leave.

Thursday, you spend most of the day regretting your decision of lying to your parents and aunt and somehow convincing the Melissa Schemmenti to play into your lie. Most of Thursday night is you lying awake and stressing. When you do finally fall asleep, you’re plagued with stress dreams about how this could all go terribly wrong.

All too soon does your alarm go off, you’re hauling your suitcase into the car, and then you’re making your way to Melissa’s house to pick her up.

She’s ready relatively quickly and jumping into your passenger seat in an awfully good mood for someone who has to pretend to be in love with you.

The drive is quiet, and you thank God for that. But then, you’re pulling into your parents’ driveway, and your nerves start to get the best of you. You feel your palms sweating as you don’t loosen your grip on the steering wheel. 

Melissa looks to you with her brows furrowed. “Hey.”

“What?” you grit out.

“If you don’t fuck this up, I won’t.” And then she’s out of your car and grabbing both of your bags before she makes her way over to your door and opens it for you.

You raise a brow.

“Your mom is already standing at the front door waiting for us to come in,” she whispers to you. And then for good measure, she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “C’mon.”

You tangle your hand with her free one, and then you’re making your way up to the door. You can only pray Melissa isn’t disgusted with your sweaty palms.

You don’t even have to knock before your mother whips open the door, Aunt Jo right behind her, with a grin on her face.

Here goes nothing. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

[a-student-out-of-time]

An Important Reminder In Trying Times

Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.

I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:

This Is Not The End.

I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.

What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.

Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.

There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.

From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.

Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.

Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.

You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.

Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.

Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.

Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:

Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.

Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.

If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.

Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.

Donate to good causes you believe in.

Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.

Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.

There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.

You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.

If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.

A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.

And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.

Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.

The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.

Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.

But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"

Then just be kind.

Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.

Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.

"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.

Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.

During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.

I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.

And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…

Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.

[writingstoraes]

hey there!! i love your stories!! can i please have a social media au where it’s a redbull driver reader soft launching her relationship with charles? okay love u! thank u!

grid love 🏎

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!redbull!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: sorry this took so long, anon! hope you like this hehehe 🤍 also lets pls pretend the faceclaim does drive for redbull, okay? okay. love u 2 anon (also this is purely ig posts hehe)

about: the last thing anyone expects is a redbull driver dating another from ferrari. a series of soft launches from you didn't help either!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 1,223,882 others

yourusername weekend shenanigans 🏁

redbullfan NOT HER CASUALLY SOFT LAUNCHING SOMEONE

ferrarigirl crying someone bagged the baddest bitch in f1

leclercluv That shadow looks an awful lot like Charles 😂😂😂😂

sainzzz55 reaching? we cant even see his face

leclercluv Charles was literally spotted at an Italian restaurant of the same setting today but okay 😂

maxverstappen Interesting

yourusername what's interesting about this? 🤨

maxverstappen Cause if I'm right, carlossainz55 and pierregasly owes me $50 🤣

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 1,223,122 others

yourusername french and princess treatment kind of night 🥂

dr3sainz ANOTHER SOFT LAUNCH?????

f1thusiast cryinggg shes got everyone and their mamas speculating on who her mystery man is 😭

carlossainz55 Max is so gonna owe me $50

maxverstappen No???

hamilt0n literal millionaires betting on $50 i have seen it all

leclercluv French?? Yeah it's Charles lol

redbullracing ❤️🤍

sainz55lec WHAT DO U KNOWWW RBR ADMIN

redbullracing Not much, as long as our golden girl is happy ❤️🤍

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511, maxverstappen, and 1,220,345 others

yourusername 16 times happier than i've ever been ❤️🤍

midnightleclercs not charles liking this 1 minute after it was posted 😭

pierrestsunoda he got her notifs on thats why

leclercluv Game over ladies that's literally Charles' car 😭

lecssainz isn't his car a ferrari pista?

leclercluv He was seen driving it around Barcelona today, apparently it's a new one 🤷‍♀️

maxverstappen 🫣🫣🫣

gaslysfilm literally why use 16 when you can use another number 😭 the y/n-charles soft launch theory may really be real lol

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, and 1,992,221 others

yourusername drove this baby around today

leclercluv CHARLES' PISTA 😭

lecshamilton this fr the hardest soft launch anyone has ever done in history im afraid

redbullfan Yeah this shit confirmed this is all we needed lmao

pierregasly maxverstappen 💸 Pay up

charles_leclerc

liked by redbullracing, scuderiaferrari, yourusername, and 2,103,334 others

charles_leclerc My rival on track is my heart keeper off track ❤️

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly This is about the cheesiest thing you have ever done

scuderiaferrari Feeling all the feels right now ❤️

redbullracing This serves as our truce, off track?

lewishamilton WOAH.

carlossainz55 I told you, maxverstappen! Pierre and I win 😄

yourusername what is this bet anyway

maxverstappen Which one of you will hard launch first, you really failed me, Y/N 😔

yourusername if i beat you in canada next week you have to buy me a lifetime supply of my favorite foods 😋

charles_leclerc Bring it on, bull

yourusername not a fan of the nickname, red

f1fan HOTTEST COUPLE EVERRRR

charlossainz this is the ferrari and redbull crossover i did NOT expect

-----------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: didnt know im still capable of doing a post of just ig pictures lmaooaoa ive been so used to adding twitter posts and let me tell u it takes SO MUCH time 😭

anyway i hope u like this, anon! thank you for reading 🤍

[f14fun]

dc it-girl (mv1) - chapter 1

synopsis: in which case y/n, an it-girl that hails from the united state's capital, washington dc, meets max verstappen in an unexpected occurence at the redbull showrun in her home city. both not knowing each other, immediately find themselves in a once-in-a-lifetime love story.

general info: !fem!poc!black-reader x mv1 faceclaim: asia monet ray + other girls from pinterest/insta!

smau + prose (3.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

things to note: yes, in this story i am changing the characters for a bit, i know that david coulthard was driving, but in this case we can pretend that that was max. also, he will be in dc for a publicity event for a week. please let me know if there is anything else you need me to clarify. happy reading! 💙📖💭

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername

liked by florence.jwilliams, user1 and 119,012 others

yourusername: bad gyals thrive in dc

view comments:

florence.jwilliams: babes we looked so hot today xx

yourusername: i knowww, but i was dying like a bitch in the heat 🙄🙄

florence.jwilliams: might visit somewhere cold this summer j to get away from the sun tbh 😭

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

Florence was always looking for shit.

She was always looking for shit for us to do, places to go, food to eat, but sometimes, it was a lot.

Like today. Although it was only the nineteenth of April, the sun was blaring down on the little city of D.C. (namely, the District of Columbia, for all of you non-natives) like an absolute bitch. And I, immune to alcohol poisoning, foot fungus, and slightly-immune to bad breath, was not absolutely not immune to the wrathful rays of the sun.

Zilch. Nada.

So when I originally left the house in a cardigan, I immediately went back in to change into a tank top and jorts. It was hot. I was hot. And Florence wanted to spend the whole day walking around the city doing God knows what.

That's how we ended up stumbling across a parade.

Every know and then when I would visit D.C., I would sometimes almost accidentally show up right in time for an event. Sometimes I happened to love the event, other times, I sometimes left, queasy, dizzy, and claustrophobic.

I wasn't sure what to make out of today's event.

At first, when looking from an outsider's perspective, it seemed as if I had walked into one large, large, cult meeting. Oh no.

Every one was adorned in shapes of navy, cheering, screaming, and worse of them all, holding a goddamn can of RedBull's Energy drink.

The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and caffeine, a cocktail potent enough to keep even the most exhausted of souls awake for days.

Banners fluttered wildly in the hands of fervent fans, each emblazoned with logos and slogans that screamed allegiance.

Vendors weaved through the throng, hawking more cans of the ubiquitous energy drink, their cries barely audible over the din.

Occasionally, a shower of confetti would rain down, sticking to the sweat-drenched skin of the masses, creating a mosaic of glittering chaos. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the raw energy of thousands of voices united in a singular, frenzied purpose.

Ew.

RedBull being one of my least favorite sodas (can you even call something you vehemently dislike a favorite at this point?) already made me additionally pissy.

So when Florence and I had just arrived at D.C. and walked towards Pennsylvania Avenue, it was too late for us to realize that the event was actually ending, and the crowd was dispersing.

Even as a girl who hails from the city, I do get quite nervous and claustrophobic around too many people. So to my utter horror, people from the flood of the RedBull cult were heading straight towards us, scattering like a pack of fleas.

Too late.

I had lost my tight grip (I swear I was holding on to her hand super duper tightly!) on Florence's hand, and we ended up getting separated from each other. Calling her name would be no use in this throng of people.

My heart pounded in my chest as I desperately scanned the sea of navy shapes, each person indistinguishable from the next in the dimming light.

Panic set in, and I could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat on the back of my neck. I tried to push my way through the crowd, but it felt like swimming against a relentless tide. People brushed past me, some nearly knocking me over in their haste to leave.

The overwhelming noise of their chatter, laughter, and the occasional burp of a RedBull can opening filled the air, making it impossible to concentrate.

It was gross. It was disgusting. I was disgusted.

I spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Florence’s distinctive red scarf, but all I saw were faceless masses. My phone! I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling as I tried to pull it out without dropping it. Just as I managed to get a hold of it, someone bumped into me, and the phone slipped from my grasp, landing with a sickening thud on the pavement.

“Dammit!” I muttered under my breath, crouching down to retrieve it, praying it wasn’t shattered. As I picked it up, I glanced around again, my heart sinking. Florence was nowhere to be seen.

In this crowd of sickeningly electric people over an energy drink, I was dead. Six feet under. Tired, and I had just gotten to D.C..

I looked around in despair, realizing that I must have walked a few blocks without even noticing, my mind too frazzled by the chaos and my separation from Florence.

My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, my lifeline in this moment of utter confusion. I tried to call Florence, but there was no signal. "Damn this shitty data!" I cursed under my breath, feeling my frustration bubble over. The crowd seemed to close in around me, their excited chatter and laughter a stark contrast to my growing panic.

My fingers tapped frantically at the screen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, a bar of signal would appear and rescue me from this nightmare. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, the kind that starts as a dull throb and quickly escalates into a pounding, relentless pain.

The one goddamn day I had left the house without my morning coffee and this shit decided to happen to me...

In a desperate attempt, I switched my phone to airplane mode and back again, praying for a miracle. But nothing changed. The crowd jostled me from all sides, pushing and pulling like a relentless tide, each shove adding to my rising sense of helplessness.

I glanced around, trying to find a familiar landmark or a quieter spot to regroup, but all I saw were waves of navy shapes and faces blurred by motion and anxiety.

"Florence!" I shouted again, my voice barely carrying above the din. The energy drink-fueled chaos was suffocating, a cacophony of noise and movement that seemed designed to disorient and overwhelm. I caught sight of a bench a few feet away and made a beeline for it, hoping to gain some semblance of stability.

I was in a twisted, sick, alternative fever dream where my nightmare fuel was in fact RedBull™, ha ha ha.

Whatever, I could probably find her somewhere around the city, I mean, it wasn't that big...right?

So there I was, in D.C., by myself. Not like I wanted to go in the first place that morning, but whatever.

Lost in thought, I was just wandering around, not really concentrating on anything in particular. Horrible city instincts, might I add. Because of my absentmindedness, I clearly did not notice when I walked into someone.

More like someone's RedBull drink walked into me.

I could not escape the nightmare fuel fever dream RedBull™ agenda, couldn't I.

Now I was extremely pissed off. The icy liquid soaked through my shirt, a cold shock that made me gasp and snap back to reality.

Looking up, I was two milliseconds away from berating whoever spilled this devil-drink all over me. But my harsh words died on the tip of my tongue the very instant that I looked up.

I was looking at a man. But not just any regular man. An extremely handsome man.

His startling icy turquoise eyes connected with mine. His stubble, a little overgrown, looked so hot. His mousy, brown touseled hair gave him a nonchalant yet strangely put-together look, and I was all in for it. And I, a girl who never stops talking, I was rendered speechless.

From the first glance, everything about him seemed perfect.

Except for the fact that he just spilled RedBull all over my white tank top and he was even wearing RedBull merch, from head to toe. Like who does that? What fashion choices...

He gave me a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice smooth and sincere. "I didn't see you there." His soft, European (?) accent lulled me to silence in an instance.

I wanted to be mad, I really did, but his charm was disarming. "It's fine," I managed to say, trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. "Accidents happen."

"Let me help you," he offered, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Kleenex tissues. He reached out towards me, seemingly wanting to put his hands on my shirt.

"Oh, oh, that's okay," I said, freaking out internally. If this handsome European man touched me that close to my boobs I might just have to propose to him that very instant.

"No, no, no, I insist," he said, his accent getting thicker, clearly not understanding my drift. He was too handsome to be doing this shit, I swear.

He came closer towards me, and I instinctively backed up a bit more. Not catching my drift (once again), he took a larger stride towards me. I, unprepared for this wild encounter, didn't step backwards in time, so the sexy European man in all of his glory, collided into me.

And down we went.

It must've been a funny sight to see from the average passerby. Them just minding their business. Maybe walking their dog. Or perhaps getting a morning lattee.

Bam.

Lying in the middle of the street are two people. Just there.

I would've hit my head on the pavement and probably cracked my scull wide open if not for the RedBull man. He had cradled one arm around my head, the other wrapped tightly around my waist. I think (?) he was helping me to try to stop the fall.

To no avail, we still fell.

What he disregarded, though, was when he tried to stop the fall, was the reason why we were falling in the first place. As grabbed my head as we fell, he also let go of the RedBull can. So now, free in the wind and open towards the chaos of the District of Columbia, the RedBull can fell.

Fell where? You may ask. It fell over us. It fell everywhere. The sticky, icky drink splattered across both of our faces, its cold, sugary droplets clinging to our skin like a caffeinated rain shower. The can, released from his grasp, seemed to defy gravity for a split second, twisting in the air before gravity's inevitable pull sent it crashing down.

The can hit the ground with a soft thud, its contents erupting in a fizzy explosion of energy. The liquid sprayed outward in all directions, catching us both off guard.

Streams of RedBull arced through the air, some landing on nearby pedestrians who stared in disbelief, while others formed tiny puddles on the sidewalk, reflecting the cloudy yet impeccably humid D.C. sky above.

For a moment, him and I laid on top of each other (weird and freaky, I know), frozen in a tableau of absurdity, our faces now adorned with streaks of sticky red liquid.

A passerby, caught in the crossfire, chuckled as they hurried past, muttering something about needing to wash their dog now. It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy, and despite my initial shock and embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

And you may think, oh wow, that is horrible. That must hurt. Your joints, your back, your legs. And to that I say, yes, yes, and very much absolutely yes.

The very sexy (slightly less sexy, now that we were mangled on the disgusting sidewalk) European man was laying on me with all his bodyweight, and it very much hurt.

To make matters worse, our faces collided. You ask, where did your faces specifically collide?

Our lips. Our lips collided, and they touched.

And me like the dumbass I am, when I see a face coming towards mine unexpectedly, eyes closed, and especially a face who's male.... I puckered up.

Yes, I was stupid.

Now, I was on the floor, sticky, and kissing a stranger.

Out of context, that sounds like a funny and strange sentence. But this whole scenario in the first place was out of context, so bear with me. I mean, how often do you end up on the ground, covered in energy drink, and accidentally kissing a stranger in the middle of the day?

It was like something out of a quirky rom-com (okay, more like the evil-twisted beginning to one of those abduction horror stories grown-ups tell you when you are a kid), except I never imagined I'd be the protagonist.

But in that split second, with the taste of RedBull lingering on our lips and the chaos of the city swirling around us, there was an inexplicable spark. It wasn't just the caffeine rush; it was a moment of shared laughter and unexpected connection amidst the sticky mess.

In this moment, I was either going to die because he was about to kidnap me, or sheerly die out of embarrassment. Or, I would will myself to die, this was not happening to me.

He pulled back, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked, his accent making his words sound even more sincere.

I tried to laugh it off, but the awkwardness of the situation was hard to shake. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… sticky." I wiped at my face, feeling the sugary residue cling to my skin.

He helped me to my feet, brushing off his clothes with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to… I mean, that was not… you know," he stammered, clearly flustered.

"It's okay," I reassured him, despite feeling mortified myself. "Really, it's fine. Just a little... unexpected."

He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. He winced, as he realized that his fingers as well as his hair smelled like RedBull. "Well, this is definitely not how I imagined meeting someone today."

"Me neither," I admitted, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and amusement. "But hey, at least it's a memorable encounter."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess this is one way to make an impression. I'm Max, by the way. Professional RedBull spiller and accidental kisser."

I laughed, the tension easing. "Nice to meet you, Max. I'm Y/N. Apparently, I'm your victim for today."

"Victim? More like an unsuspecting hero," he replied with a playful grin. "Seriously, though, I'm really sorry about all this. Can I at least buy you a coffee to make up for it?"

"Well, considering you saved me from cracking my skull open, I think I can let you off the hook," I said, trying to sound casual while still feeling a bit flustered. "And coffee sounds good."

"Great! I know a place just around the corner. And I promise, no more RedBull," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. (Yeah, the biggest lie I was ever told. Do not trust sexy men, they are all liars)

As we walked towards the café, the awkwardness of our first meeting began to fade into a shared sense of humor about the absurdity of the situation. Max continued to apologize, making light-hearted comments about his job with RedBull and his less-than-perfect coordination skills.

"You know," Max started with a grin, "I guess I should add 'professional accidental kisser' to my resume now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not sure how many job openings there are for that, but you'd definitely stand out."

"Well, it's all about making a memorable first impression, right?" Max replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Definitely memorable," I agreed, taking a playful jab. "Though next time, maybe aim for something less sticky?"

Max feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, it's not every day you get to meet someone while wearing your finest RedBull cologne."

"I have to admit," I said with a smirk, "you wear it well."

Max chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Hey, it's an acquired scent. You'll get used to it."

"And here I thought coffee was supposed to be the only thing brewing today," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Who says we can't have a double shot of excitement?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful flirtation, feeling myself relax even more in his company. "Well, as long as it doesn't involve any more airborne beverages, I'm all in."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy our little RedBull shower?"

"Let's just say I prefer my caffeine in a cup," I replied with a grin, sipping my coffee and meeting his gaze over the rim. "So, Max, what other talents do you have besides professional beverage mishaps?"

He leaned back, pretending to ponder the question seriously. "Well, I can juggle three balls at once. And I'm pretty good at making people laugh, unintentionally, most of the time."

"I can see that," I said, laughing softly. "You've definitely brightened up my day, unintentionally." Continuing, I said, "I was lost in that throng, no, no, no, cult of people wearing RedBull on Penn Ave. It was absolutely horrible, never again."

He guffawed loudly, so loudly, at my slightly funny joke, I for a second, thought that there was an underlying joke in my statement that I had not caught (spoiler alert, there was).

Max guffawed loudly, his laughter infectious. "Oh, I'm sorry," he managed between chuckles, "but you have to admit, it makes for a great story."

"You find this funny?" I asked, feigning offense while trying not to laugh myself. "I was traumatized by energy drink enthusiasts!"

"Hey, at least you made it out alive," Max quipped, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "And here you are, sharing your harrowing tale with a fellow survivor."

"Survivor?" I raised an eyebrow, pretending to assess him critically. "Or secret admirer of RedBull?"

Max shrugged, his smile mischievous. "Maybe a bit of both. It's an acquired taste, you know."

"You are just saying that as a cult member, I can't really trust what you say still. I am so sorry, but you could not pay me to drink that can of dog piss," I jokingly rolled my eyes.

Max burst into laughter, his amusement filling the air around us. "Dog piss? That's a new one! Trust me, I'm not here to convert you," he said, grinning widely. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll be here with a fresh can and an open mind."

"Hmmm... okay," I reluctantly said. (Yeah, fat chance you would get me to drink RedBull willingly)

"That only made him laugh louder. "So I've heard," Max replied with a grin, clearly taking my comment in good humor.

I chuckled, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn't offended by my playful jab. "I mean, it takes confidence to rock the RedBull look from head to toe," I added, trying to soften my teasing with a smile.

"Exactly!" Max exclaimed, his laughter subsiding into a grin. "You've got to commit to the brand, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, nodding. "I have to hand it to you, though. Not many people can pull off such a bold fashion statement."

"Well, thank you," Max said, his tone light and playful. "I guess you could say I'm all about making a statement."

"I can see that," I replied, unable to resist teasing him a bit more. "I suppose next time we meet, I should wear something equally attention-grabbing to match your style."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Please do. It'll make for an even more interesting encounter."

Everytime he spoke, he made direct eye contact with me. It was so sexy and seductive, and I don't even think that Max knew what he was doing was hella attractive.

I, not immune to anything today I guess, fell hard for a stranger that I had just met.

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yourusername posted on her story

📍washington dc 🎵 see you again (ft. kali uchis) - tyler the creator

view replies

florence.jwilliams: girl we got separated and first thing you do is be big backed??? be so fr... where are u

yourusername: on a date! 😁

florence.jwilliams: oh!-

florence.jwilliams: don't be selfish and bring me back a iced coffee w almond milk and a croissant pls.

yourusername: croissant 👌🏾, beverage 👎🏾, i've had enuf of beverages and spilling today. 😭

florence.jwilliams: oop, tea

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author's note: a little short but sweet! ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 part two will be out sometime within the next two weeks, comment if you want to be added to the taglist! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[babybluewoso]

Second chances in extra time (alessia russo x williamson!reader)

(note: for the sake of this story please just pretend Alessia didn't signed up with man u)

The chill of the autumn morning lingered in the air as Y/N Williamson stepped onto the training pitch at London Colney. The familiar sights and sounds of the Arsenal Women’s training ground greeted her like an old friend, but today, there was an unfamiliar tension hanging over her.

It had been years since Y/N had last seen Alessia Russo, but the memories of their time together were still as vivid as ever. They had grown up together, two football-loving kids in a small town, inseparable in every way. Y/N had been taller, stronger even then, but Alessia had always been the fierce, determined one. They balanced each other out perfectly. And somewhere along the line, between endless matches in the park and stolen moments under the stars, they had fallen in love.

But then Alessia had been offered a scholarship to play football in the United States, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that neither of them could ignore. They had tried to make it work, promising each other that distance wouldn’t change anything, but reality had other plans. The calls became less frequent, the texts shorter, and eventually, they had drifted apart. The breakup had been mutual, but the pain was anything but.

Y/N had stayed in England, following in her sister Leah’s footsteps to play for Arsenal. She had grown stronger, taller, and more skilled, but with each passing year, she had also become more reserved. The bubbly, carefree girl she had once been was now a quiet, introspective woman. She had learned to keep her emotions close, sharing her deepest thoughts only with her sister.

Leah had been her rock through everything, always there to support her, even when it meant holding her hand through the pain of losing Alessia. And now, after all these years, Alessia Russo was back, having signed with Arsenal. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread at the thought of seeing her again.

But when the day finally came, and Y/N saw Alessia for the first time on the pitch, it wasn’t the reunion she had imagined. Alessia was still as beautiful as ever, with her piercing blue eyes and golden hair, but there was a hardness to her now, a coldness in her gaze that hadn’t been there before.

“Look who it is,” Alessia said as she approached Y/N, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The famous Williamson sister. I see you’ve bulked up a bit.”

Y/N’s heart sank at the harsh tone. She had expected awkwardness, maybe even a little tension, but not outright hostility. She forced a smile, hoping to defuse the situation. “It’s good to see you again, Less.”

Alessia’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, but she didn’t let it show. She had always been good at hiding her emotions, at pretending that nothing could hurt her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, looking down at the ground. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Whatever,” Alessia muttered, brushing past her without another word.

Y/N watched her walk away, her chest tight with a mix of sadness and confusion. She didn’t understand why Alessia was acting this way. She had hoped that time would have healed the wounds between them, that they could at least be civil, but it seemed that Alessia was still holding onto the pain of their past.

------------

As the weeks went by, Alessia’s attitude toward Y/N didn’t improve. In fact, it seemed to get worse with each passing day. Every time Y/N tried to talk to her, Alessia would respond with a snide comment or a dismissive remark. She would criticize Y/N’s performance on the pitch, belittle her efforts, and make cutting remarks about her appearance. It was like Alessia was determined to push Y/N away, to make her feel as worthless as possible.

And it was working. Y/N, who was usually so strong, found herself retreating further and further into her shell. She stopped trying to engage with Alessia, opting instead to stay quiet and avoid her whenever possible. She focused on her training, throwing herself into every drill, every exercise, hoping to drown out the pain with physical exertion.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling of loss that gnawed at her heart. She missed the Alessia she had once known—the girl who had loved her fiercely and unapologetically. The girl who had made her feel like she was enough, just as she was. But that Alessia was gone, replaced by someone who seemed to hate her.

Leah noticed the change in her sister almost immediately. She had always been protective of Y/N, and seeing her so withdrawn, so defeated, broke her heart. Leah knew that something needed to be done, but she wasn’t sure how to fix the situation. She couldn’t force Alessia to be kind, and she couldn’t make Y/N stand up for herself if she didn’t want to.

But Leah wasn’t one to give up easily. She had always been a leader, on and off the pitch, and she was determined to find a way to help her sister. She started talking to the other players, those who had been around long enough to see the change in Y/N, and together, they came up with a plan.

---------------

One evening after training, Leah gathered a small group of players in the locker room—Beth Mead, Kim Little, Vivianne Miedema, and Katie McCabe. They were the core of the team, the ones who had seen Y/N grow into the player she was today, and they all cared deeply for her.

“Alright, we need to talk,” Leah began, her voice serious. “It’s about Y/N and Alessia.”

Beth nodded, leaning back against the bench. “Yeah, I’ve noticed the tension between them. It’s like walking on eggshells whenever they’re in the same room.”

“Exactly,” Leah agreed. “And Y/N isn’t handling it well. She’s pulling away, and that’s not like her. She’s always been so open, so loving, but now… I don’t know. She’s just not herself.”

“She’s hurting,” Kim said softly. “And it’s clear that Alessia is the cause of it. But why? What happened between them?”

Leah sighed, running a hand through her hair. “They were together, a long time ago, before Alessia went to the States. They were childhood sweethearts, but the distance… it tore them apart. And now, I think Alessia is still in love with Y/N, but she’s angry. Angry that she still cares, angry that Y/N is here, and maybe even angry that Y/N has moved on—or at least, she thinks she has.”

“So what do we do?” Vivianne asked, crossing her arms. “We can’t just sit back and watch this happen. Y/N deserves better.”

Leah smiled, her eyes glinting with determination. “We’re going to bring them back together. We’re going to remind Alessia why she fell in love with Y/N in the first place, and show Y/N that Alessia’s anger isn’t really about her—it’s about the love she’s trying to deny.”

The others nodded in agreement, their minds already working on the details of the plan. It wouldn’t be easy, but they were determined to help Y/N and Alessia find their way back to each other. They had both suffered enough, and it was time for them to heal.

------------

The first step of the plan was simple: get Y/N and Alessia alone together, away from the pitch, away from the team, and in an environment where they couldn’t avoid talking to each other. Leah suggested a team bonding night at the pub, something they hadn’t done in a while. It was the perfect excuse to get everyone together, and with a little nudging, she convinced Y/N and Alessia to come along.

The pub was cozy, with low lighting and warm wooden furnishings. The team gathered around a large table, drinks in hand, and for a while, the atmosphere was light and cheerful. Y/N sat at one end of the table, nursing her drink and trying her best to stay engaged in the conversation, but her eyes kept drifting toward Alessia, who was sitting at the other end, looking just as uncomfortable.

Leah watched them both carefully, waiting for the right moment. When the conversation lulled, she leaned forward, catching Alessia’s eye. “Hey, Less, why don’t you and Y/N go grab another round for us? I think we’re running low.”

Alessia’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked her surprise with a cool nod. “Sure,” she said, standing up and glancing at Y/N. “You coming?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, but she nodded and stood up as well. “Yeah, okay.”

They walked to the bar together in silence, the tension between them almost palpable. Y/N could feel Alessia’s eyes on her, but she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, unsure of what to say. She hated this—hated the awkwardness, the distance, the way Alessia made her feel like she was walking on eggshells.

As they reached the bar, Y/N cleared her throat, finally gathering the courage to speak. “Alessia, I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you. I never wanted things to be like this between us.”

Alessia didn’t respond right away. She stared at the bartender as he poured their drinks, her jaw clenched tightly. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and laced with bitterness. “You didn’t do anything, Y/N. That’s the problem.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the harshness of her words. “What do you mean?”

Alessia let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “You didn’t fight for me. When I left, you just… let me go. Like I didn’t matter.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the accusation, and she swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. Y/N’s throat tightened, a lump of guilt rising as Alessia’s words settled in. “I… I didn’t know what to do, Less. You had this amazing opportunity, and I thought—” She struggled to find her voice, every word feeling like a fragile confession. “I thought letting you go was the right thing.”

Alessia’s eyes flashed with anger as she spun to face Y/N. “The right thing? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me? Leaving everything behind, leaving you behind? You didn’t even try to stop me. You just stood there, like I didn’t mean anything to you.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped at the accusation, and for the first time, she felt the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away quickly, refusing to let Alessia see her cry. “That’s not true, Alessia. You meant everything to me. You still do. I thought… I thought I was being selfless by not holding you back.”

Alessia’s gaze softened, just for a moment, but the anger quickly returned, a shield against the pain. “You should’ve fought for me,” she repeated, her voice breaking just enough to reveal the hurt underneath. “But you didn’t.”

Y/N stood there, frozen, feeling the weight of her past decisions crushing down on her. She had always been strong, always held herself together, but Alessia’s words cut deeper than anything she’d ever felt on the pitch. She had failed her—not by letting her go, but by not realizing how much Alessia had needed her to fight.

“I didn’t know how to,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I was scared of losing you… scared of making the wrong choice. I thought you wanted to be free, and I didn’t want to be the reason you couldn’t follow your dreams.”

Alessia’s eyes softened again, but this time, she didn’t pull back. Instead, she looked at Y/N for a long moment, the anger slowly draining from her expression. “I wanted you to come with me, Y/N. I would’ve given up everything to stay with you if you had asked. But you never did.”

Y/N’s heart shattered at the revelation, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek before she could stop it. “I didn’t know, Less. I didn’t know you felt that way. I was stupid, and I was scared, and I thought you were better off without me.”

Alessia sighed, the frustration finally ebbing away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. “I wasn’t better off without you. I’ve spent years trying to forget about you, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried.”

Y/N looked down at her hands, her chest aching with regret. “I never stopped thinking about you either. Not once.”

The silence between them was heavy, but this time, it wasn’t filled with anger or resentment. It was filled with the weight of everything they hadn’t said, of all the time they had lost. Y/N wanted to reach out, to take Alessia’s hand, but she didn’t know if she had the right anymore.

But Alessia was the one who made the first move. She sighed and, for the first time since they’d been reunited, the edge in her voice softened. “Y/N… it’s not all your fault. We both made mistakes.”

Y/N looked up, her heart pounding. “Does that mean…?”

Alessia glanced at her, something unspoken hanging in the air between them. “I don’t know what it means. But maybe… we don’t have to keep hurting each other.”

Y/N’s breath caught. This was the first glimmer of hope she’d felt in weeks. “I don’t want to hurt you, Less. I never did.”

Alessia gave her a small, tired smile. “I know.”

The bartender slid their drinks across the counter, and Alessia picked them up. As she handed one to Y/N, her fingers brushed against Y/N’s, sending a jolt of electricity through her. For a moment, their eyes met, and Y/N saw something there that she hadn’t seen in a long time: the flicker of the girl she used to know, the one who had loved her.

They returned to the table in silence, but this time, the tension between them was different. It wasn’t the suffocating weight of anger and regret—it was something softer, something that felt like the first step toward healing.

-------------------

Over the next few days, Y/N and Alessia didn’t talk much, but the harsh comments and cold stares stopped. Alessia seemed to be struggling with her own emotions, and Y/N gave her the space she needed. But Leah, ever the protective sister, wasn’t content to let things linger in awkward silence.

“We’re making progress,” Leah said, gathering the core group again in the locker room after practice. “But we need to do more. They’re clearly not going to talk unless we push them together.”

Katie McCabe grinned, leaning back in her seat. “Well, we’re a team. We can get creative. Maybe they need a little… forced bonding time.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we lock them in a room together until they sort things out?”

Katie shrugged. “Not a bad idea, is it?”

Leah laughed. “Let’s not go that far. But I do think we need to create a situation where they can’t just avoid each other.”

“Like what?” Vivianne asked.

“Like a team dinner, maybe,” Leah suggested. “Somewhere casual, low pressure. We can make sure they’re sitting next to each other. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll come up with something more drastic.”

The group nodded in agreement, their eyes twinkling with mischief. It wasn’t often that they got to play matchmaker, and they were determined to see it through.

That weekend, the team gathered at a cozy Italian restaurant in central London, the kind of place with candlelit tables and soft music in the background. Leah had made the seating arrangements, ensuring that Y/N and Alessia were placed right next to each other.

Y/N felt her heart rate spike as she took her seat beside Alessia, but Alessia didn’t seem as tense as before. In fact, she even managed a small smile when their eyes met. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give Y/N a flicker of hope.

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed easily around the table. The team laughed, joked, and shared stories, and slowly, Y/N felt the tension between her and Alessia begin to melt away. At one point, Alessia leaned over and whispered something about one of the other players, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprising even herself.

For the first time in a long time, it felt easy. Natural. Like maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

After dinner, as the team spilled out onto the street, Leah nudged Y/N gently. “Walk Alessia home,” she whispered.

Y/N hesitated, but Leah gave her a reassuring smile. “Go on. It’s time.”

Y/N swallowed her nerves and turned to Alessia. “Hey, do you want some company on the way home?”

Alessia looked surprised for a moment, but then she nodded. “Sure. I’d like that.”

They walked in comfortable silence through the quiet London streets, the cool night air brushing against their skin. Y/N’s heart raced with every step, but she didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t until they reached Alessia’s building that she finally spoke.

“I’ve missed you,” Y/N blurted out before she could stop herself.

Alessia paused, her keys in hand, and looked up at Y/N. Her expression softened, and for a moment, Y/N saw the girl she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“I’ve missed you too,” Alessia admitted quietly.

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Y/N took a step closer, her heart pounding in her chest. “Do you think… we could try again?”

Alessia’s eyes searched Y/N’s face for a long moment, as if weighing her options. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Yeah. I think we can.”

And with that, the distance between them melted away. Y/N stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Alessia, pulling her close. It felt like coming home.

--------------

From that moment on, things between Y/N and Alessia began to heal. The bitterness and anger faded, replaced by the love that had always been there, buried beneath the hurt. They took things slow, rebuilding the trust they had lost, but it wasn’t long before they were back to where they had once been—laughing, teasing, and loving each other with the same intensity as before.

And this time, Y/N wasn’t going to let Alessia go. Not again.

The rest of the team watched their relationship blossom with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that they had played a small part in bringing them back together. Leah, in particular, was overjoyed to see her sister happy again, and she made sure to remind Y/N every chance she got that family—and love—was worth fighting for.

And so, as the seasons changed and the matches came and went, Y/N and Alessia faced every challenge together. They were stronger, not just as teammates, but as partners, and they knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Because this time, they weren’t letting go.

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. cw food (they’re eating ice cream and reader enjoys *glass shatters* mint chocolate chip). fluff, established relationship, feelings etc. | wc 901, divider thanks to cafekitsune!

Sitting thigh to thigh with Satoru on a park bench not far from your home, the two of you decided to take a bit of leisure time to yourselves. The sweets in your hands were a must according to him and now that you’re sitting to enjoy them, you have to admit that he was correct.

“When I was eight, I told my mom I wanted to marry ice cream someday,” you sigh after scooping a spoonful in your mouth.

The anecdote makes you feel a little embarrassed to share though you recall it easily. Sitting next to her in her car, merrily enjoying the mint chocolate chip scoop topped cone in your little hand, on a day not entirely unlike the mid-spring one you’re enjoying now. You meant every word of it, as big of a lover back then as you are now, even for the inanimate and edible.

“You treat me like I’m ice cream sometimes so maybe you were right.”

He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, the motion visible over the tops of his sunglasses. You giggle and playfully swat at him, careful to keep your cup and spoon steady. The reference to your pension for enjoying licking every inch of him (as if he doesn’t have the same proclivities...) you possibly can warms your cheeks and you scoop a bite from your cup and into your mouth to cool yourself down, a pleased hum further grabbing his attention.

The two of you aren’t married, not quite yet, but he has told you for years that you will be. It’s you or no one as far as he’s concerned, well aware he’s going to live an easy lifetime listening to that same pleased sigh on repeat for years to come.

“Do that again?”

You scoff and roll your eyes although there is no bite to it. The ability to roll with the punches is one of the things he has always enjoyed the most about you. There is an innate playfulness to you that perfectly compliments his own even though you may pretend to be Miss Serious when the mood strikes you.

Like right now.

“Stop being gross and enjoy this beautiful day, Satoru.

He plays off your displeased warning with a laugh, tossing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. It really is a treat to get to spend this time with him during the daylight hours considering how busy both of your schedules tend to be thanks to, well, the whole sorcery thing and the sun illuminates him enough you can almost see a halo around the top of his head.

This world is beautiful because he’s in it, you think to yourself.

Dreamily, you sigh and glance down at your thighs instead of looking at him which would only further your lovesick feeling. Your heart is so full it feels it may pop like a balloon, a sign you need to let out what you’re thinking about.

“You know, sometimes I think about anything I loved before you and that love feels so shallow.”

That is not what he was expecting you to say. Satoru’s eyes widen and he tilts his head, puffing out air loudly.

“You loved something before you met me? What a betrayal.”

The smile on your face dims and your posture tightens while you turn your face away from him. He has seen you in every vulnerable state a person can be in - naked and clothed, sick and well, broken and whole. Even if you withdraw, he will always bring you back. This time is no different.

Gojo reaches for you, turning your face toward him with his free hand.

“No no no, come back here. I was just kidding.”

His fingers rest against your jaw and his thumb runs over the round of your cheek and your sour look fades in an instant. There are many things you loved before him, people too, and though it stings to know your feelings weren’t preserved until the day he landed in your life he smiles at you softly. From the day he admitted his feelings to you years ago, you were his and his alone. There’s no use in being jealous now and whatever remains of the bitter taste dies within him when he looks at your face and leans over to glance into your cup.

“So are you saying you love me more than ice cream?”

Giggling, you tap his nose with the handle of the wooden spoon in your hand.

“I’m saying that I love you more than anything that has come before or after you at the very least.”

“Then I’ll take this as a sign you don’t want that then.” Reaching for your ice cream, he wiggles his fingers and you hold it out of his grasp with a laugh. “No,” you feign annoyance and sigh loudly. “But I’ll share it with you.”

Reaching into your cup you pull out a scoop and feed it into his open, waiting mouth. He dramatically hums his pleasure, bundling his hands against his chest and shaking slightly. It’s a ridiculous move but you can’t help but laugh at him, reaching for another scoop in to feed him again.

“I love you too, by the way.” He adds after accepting the second bite, mouth still half full and cold. Nodding with a soft smile, you know he always will.

[weapon-xox]

Logan hated christmas.

Hated any holiday, really, because for a long time nothing good came out of them- only the lonlieness of watching families and friends join together for the holidays, warm and safe in their homes. But Logan was a mutant, and mutants were never safe.

Sometimes he'd have a thought, cruel and mean and maybe a little selfish, about how these humans didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve the holidays, the warmth, the cheer and presents and their families because he didn't have his, because they came along and destroyed his. The X men, his X men.

...But it wasn't fair to think that way, these weren't the same humans, wasn't even his own timeline, and so Logan would remind himself that if he had just protected them, that if he didn't--

"Peanut? I can hear you thinking. Can smell it, too." Wade made a gesture, as if he was waving off the smoke from the gears turning, and Logan sniffed.

"'m fine."

Wade frowned. Silence passed, a moment, two moments, and it felt like an entire lifetime before Wade finally cracked, crumbled and deflated in his seat, pouting towards his sulking partner.

"The decorations are too much, aren't they? I knew it! Logan, goddamn it, you should have told me!"

Another thing Logan should have done. He looked away as Wade tilted his head.

"Is that... Not the problem?"

No. Yes. A little bit.

...Not at all.

Logan couldn't find the words. Knew Wade needed the reassurance, could smell the anxiety and fear and sense of rejection Wade was feeling, the bitter smells practically seeping through his clothes.

But he couldn't speak. Because talking about it made it real, really reminded him that they were gone, how many christmas's he took for granted simply because he was a grumpy old fuck.

He was reminded of Jubilee, her sweet face, lit up by the lights of a christmas tree, so excited to finally have a family of her own, who cared about her and loved her for who she was, and Logan couldn't have even been bothered to try and pretend for her that he enjoyed the holidays.

He remembers her face, dejected, but her smile only grew wider. Rogue and Gambit had saved the day with an early gift, Remy shooting a comforting smile over his shoulder at Logan, a look of understanding, but Logan had just turned around and left the room.

"Lo, we need to talk about this. Whatever you're doing, all of this thinking, you- you gotta let me in, Peanut. Please. This is our first christmas together, y'know, I'm really trying here."

Wade looked frustrated. Tears welled up in his eyes, his fists were clenched and shaking but Logan knew it wasn't in anger. Not towards Logan, at least.

Wade just wanted to help. He wanted to help, and felt like he couldn't. Logan was suffering, and all Wade could do was sit back and let him.

When Logan said nothing, he just turned away and looked at the dingy but well-loved christmas tree Wade had excitedly drug out of storage. Half of the lights were busted, only a few rows lit up that Logan had tried to fix when Wade wasn't home, but when he realized he couldn't, he'd just learned to accept it, even grew quite fond of the charming little lights. The ornaments looked tacky as hell, but just like the tree, and this apartment, and Wade, they simply just had character.

A lot of them were homemade, Wades friends made him one each year knowing how much the merc loved it. Even had Logan and Laura make some this year, Lauras was her own little hand crafted Mary Puppins wearing a small santa hat, while Logan had taken two caps from his beer bottles, painted a little Deadpool Logo while the other dawned a giant red X. Wade had cried, told Logan it was perfect, despite the shakey lines because the bottle caps were small and Logans hands were just too big.

When everyone asked Wade what he wanted for christmas, Logan gathered (thanks to Vanessa also warning him months in advance) that his answer was the same every year- something from the heart. No store bought gifts, which although Wade adored when Logan would spoil him with a random gift on a random day for no real reason, during the holidays Wade only wanted something genuine, where he knew the gift was given to him because he was loved, because they loved him enough to take the time out of their day to make it for him.

Logan's heart broke, because to him any gift would do, the thought of just simply being thought about enough for someone to decide to gift him something was more than enough. Still came from the heart.

But Wade needed to know he was loved, and this was his way of feeling it.

Logans frown deepend, and if Wade had hair he'd be pulling it all out by now.

"Please," Wade whispered, his soft voice cracked, and Logan said nothing.

Instead, he grabbed Wades face, circled the pads of his thumbs against Wades scarred skin gently, as if he were a fragile present that just might break if not handled with care. He wasn't far off.

Logan realized, Wade was the best present he'd ever recieved. Everything he did for him was with love, showed Logan he loved him in ways others hadn't before. Everything was personal, catered for Logan.

Just as Wades presents he liked to recieve.

"Honey badger," Wade panted, forcing his lips back from Logan. "What's wrong?"

"I miss my family, Wade," Logan finally blurted out, and then came tears.

Wade frowned, held Logans head close to his chest, and squeezed and rocked him while looking out the window. The blinds were up, and the snow was heavy but delicate, much like Logan, under the streetlights.

"Yeah. I know. I bet they miss you too."

Logan snarled, thought Wade was making fun of him, but when Logan looked up at those big, brown eyes, filled with nothing but genuine concern- his entire body melted against Wade. Dropped his head back to his chest, laid his palm flat out across his chest, and sighed.

"I'm sorry, bub. I know ya like christmas, ain't tryin' to ruin it for ya. Decorations are fine." Wade laughed, soft and light, and Logans belly grew warm with the sound.

"You know, it's funny. Every christmas, I'm surrounded by my friends, my family, my whole fucking world," Wade smiled distantly, eyes focused on the snow. "Yeah, but I mean, sometimes I feel so greedy. Empty inside, like, I have everything I could ever want, right? I'm a real lucky guy."

Logan scoffed, and Wade shook his head, a silent let me finish.

"But, Lo? I feel whole. Right now, sitting in this apartment, with Al and our daughter sleeping in the next room. With the big, mean and scary Wolverine, in my lap? Which, holy fuck, you have no idea how long I've dreamed of this. With our other, much meaner daughter, sleeping on the floor, excited for santa to come-"

Laura didn't believe in Santa, but for Wade, she did, curled up under the tree in her new pair of christmas jammies Wade and Logan had bought her and let her open as her christmas eve gift.

"My family is whole. And, they're your family too, Logan. They love you, Ness loves you, and I am so, so grateful, that you let me love you, and Laura. You may not have your family, I know they can't be replaced, but you do have mine."

Logan wasn't good with words, stood up instead, walked off. Wade let out a shakey breath and dropped his head into his hands, clawed with dull nails at his eyes, until Logan came back and shoved a book into his hands.

Wade looked at it, arched a non existant eyebrow, and barked out a short and humorless laugh.

"I don't read, buddy."

Logan rolled his eyes but his cheeks burned crimson, peaking Wades interest enough to grab the corner of the book, lift it up cautiously, and-

"No fucking way."

Wade slammed the book shut, looked up at Logan in disbelief. Logan growled, urged him on, and Wade obeyed.

"Lo, princess, baby girl, you did-fucking-not,"

"Merry Christmas, bub."

A photo album. Not many photos, just the first few pages filled, and upon closer inspection the photos weren't perfect, but they were photos of them, of the rest of their family. Lauras first day at her "human" job, Wade hugging her with the proudest smile while Laura looked embarrased, her new manager side eyeing her from the corner of the photo.

Photos of Mary and Wade, or Al, napping with their furless baby or playing in the park with her.

Some of Wade simply just sleeping, or doing a mundane task, but moments Logan deemed worthy of adding to their album.

Wade noticed that not a single picture had Logan in it, always behind the camera. The last filled page had a family photo, Wade remembers them taking this, had begged Logan to join in but said he was more comfortable just taking the photo...

"Well, this won't do, will it?" Logan felt his heart shatter, Wade didn't like his gift. He was so sure he would, but maybe Logan didn't know Wade as well as he-

"Photo time!"

What?

Wade grabbed his favorite baby pink polaroid camera from off of the table, sat in Logans lap, pressed a big kiss to his temple while eyeing the camera, and snapped their first photo together.

"Now it's perfect. Thank you, Logan. I love you so much." Logan smiled, pressed his nose to Wades neck and took a deep inhale, then muttered the words,

"You too, mouth."

Logan still hated christmas, but maybe Wade could change his mind.

[astraystayyh]

Bittersweet

Pairing : Bang Chan x reader, exes to lovers.

Summary : You broke up with Chan because of an once in a lifetime work opportunity. Four years later, you are back home and everything has changed.

Warnings : Some cursing, reader has a big fear of thunder, allusion to sex in the end but no smut.

A.N: I wrote this as part two of Beginning of the End, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Still, i HIGHLY recommend reading part 1 first, it will just be more impactful!! Please let me know if you enjoyed reading, it means a lot to me <333

(Part 1)

-------------

Four years later, you were back to where it all started.

It felt weird to return home after all this time; to stroll down the alleys you once memorized, to meet up with the friends you once couldn’t live without. To witness firsthand how small your existence is, in the sense that you were so attached to your city, yet it had moved on perfectly despite your absence.

Still, you couldn’t really blame the world for moving on because you changed a lot too.

You had grown happier and more secure in yourself. Your work was recognized and praised, and you made some unforgettable memories that wouldn't have been possible had you not left. You felt as if everything you fought hard for finally paid off.

But throughout the years, one thing did remain the same; your love for Chan. You never tried to forget him or make your feelings go away. You figured that loving him was like the skin that clung to your bones, an inseparable part of your being.

Still, you were human after all, and as the months passed, you began to forget the sound of his voice and the warmth of his body against yours. His giggles became a distant memory in your mind, and so did the feel of his hands on your skin. Loving Chan became like a photograph that you safely tucked away; it chipped at the edges and its colors faded, but it still lived on, just like your love for him did.

And now that you were finally back with a bigger promotion, you couldn’t help but think about Chan even more. Everywhere you went, you saw snippets of your past with him.

You were so young, so foolish, you realized.

But so utterly in love.

----------------

It was 11 pm, and you were suddenly craving ice cream. You knew it was a bit ridiculous because it was -3 degrees, and you were already freezing, but you had one fundamental rule in life: never say no to your heart's desires.

This is why, despite the cold, you quickly leave your new apartment and skip toward the convenience store near you.

You head inside and grab your favorite ice cream before strolling around in case something else caught your attention. You just loved the calm inside and wanted to bask in it a bit more.

You round the milk aisle and suddenly bumped into someone’s chest. You were about to apologize when the words got stuck in your throat.

Chan.

"Yn…?" he calls out, and you feel yourself grow weak in the knees.

There was something about the way your name rolled off the tip of his tongue that made you feel as if no one, besides him, had ever done it justice.

He was even more beautiful than when you last saw him four years ago. His brown curly hair was tousled and his warm eyes reminded you of galaxies. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest because you couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe it was him.

Memories of your last time together came crashing down on you like a wave; how he hugged you and told you to pretend as if nothing was happening, how he wrote you the most heart-wrenching letter that you’ve since memorized by heart.

"How are you?" you ask, clearing your throat. It felt silly to ask such mundane questions. This wasn't what you wanted to know. You wanted to ask if he still hated the taste of alcohol, if he still cried during sad movies, if he still squealed when he laughed, if he still loved you as you loved him.

But you couldn't voice those thoughts, so you willed yourself to drown them in the storm that is your mind.

"I'm good, and you?" he replies, smiling a little. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"I'm great."

"You look like it," he says, and you meekly nod, "So do you."

"Are you... visiting?" he asks after a few silent beats, and you shake your head, "I'm back for good."

"That's great. It's nice seeing you again," he gives you a genuine smile this time, and you can't help but grin back. You missed him.

You both stare at each other for a while after that, taking each other in. Looking at him felt like looking at a mirror of your past self -you could clearly see yourself in him because he once was a part of you, just like you were a part of him.

"I'll... I'll get going," he points behind him, retracting back, and before you could think it through, you grab his wrist to stop him.

It wasn't butterflies you felt when you touched him, that would be an understatement, it was pure electricity shooting through you.

People had touched you while you were away - hugs, kisses, and intimate caresses - but none of them made you feel this way. You were like a prisoner who had just felt the sun's rays against their skin for the first time in years. And you were starving for that sunlight.

"Can we meet up? Catch up? If you want to, of course," you whisper. Your voice is quiet- a stark contrast to the chaos going on in your mind.

"Yeah... Yeah, I'd like that," he agrees, rubbing the spot where you had grabbed him. Did he feel the sparks too?

"Tomorrow, this time, in the park near our old apartment?" you suggest, and he nods, "Sure. I'll be there."

"Great. I'll wait for you."

----------

You are sitting on a swing, swaying back and forth gently. Your heart is beating erratically in your chest, and you bite your nails from how stressed you are. In the four years you were away, you had to give conferences in front of thousands and thousands of people, yet you weren't as nervous as you are now.

"You still do that?" a voice next to you reprimands and you turn around to find Chan.

"Old habits never die, I guess," you smile sheepishly, dropping your hand down, and he chuckles.

"How are you?" you ask again, and he shrugs, "I'm good."

"How are you, really?"

"I don't think you have the right to ask me that anymore." His words cut you deep, and you swallow forcefully. "I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't mean to pry."

"I know, fuck, I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's okay," you reassure, looking up at the starry sky. He was right after all.

"Haven't been stargazing for a while," he whispers, and you smile sadly. That was one of your favorite activities together.

"Me too. But I love looking at the stars," you reply.

"I know. They remind you of how small you are in the grand scheme of things," he says nonchalantly as if he didn’t just knock the breath out of you. He remembered.

"Yeah, like how I've been away for four years, and everything moved on as if I've never been here."

"Your absence was felt, yn”, he pauses, “I used to miss you." Used to. Past tense.

"I still miss you." Your reply is instant; you don't feel the need to hide from him. You never did.

Chan holds your gaze for a while, and you wonder what he was thinking at that moment. You wanted to shout at him to tell you what was on his mind. To just say it. But you couldn't. You can no longer ask things from him; you knew that.

"I saw your name in news articles and TV shows. You had your big breakthrough," he suddenly smiles at you, changing the subject. You feel a blush creep up your neck; the fact that he kept up with you made you feel shy all of a sudden.

"I guess I did, I grew a lot. I... I think that I needed to get away and experience new things. It would have haunted me had I not," you smile, and he nods attentively. He still listened to you intently, as always.

"You were always destined for great things," he says seriously, and you feel your eyes well up with tears.

He spoke those words as if he wholeheartedly believed them, and nothing in the world could ever sway his mind.

"So are you. You've been doing amazing these past few years, getting all these awards and deals. I love your music," you gush, and he waves a hand in the air as if to dismiss your words.

"Don't do that," you chastise, "you should be proud of yourself. I know I am very proud of you."

"I suppose the years did us good," he sighs wistfully, and you hum in agreement. You are both quiet after that. You don’t dare to speak, afraid that your next words would break the bubble you are in. As selfish as it was, you didn’t want to face reality yet.

"Just say what’s on your mind," he suddenly speaks up, and you raise a brow at him inquisitively.

“You are scratching your throat as if to stop the words from coming out. Just tell me.” Chan, ever the perceptive.

You take in a deep breath, willing your voice to sound strong, "The only thing I regret is that... I had to lose you in the process. I know I'll never find someone as amazing as you."

Chan doesn’t reply and your words linger in the air, suffocating you. You hoped that a strong wind will come by and carry them away, somewhere they wouldn't hurt anymore.

"I did love you, yn." A pause, and you can feel a heartbreaking ‘but’ coming. "But I don't anymore. I found... I found someone else. They are good to me and I love them."

"Oh". You dreaded it, expected it even, you never wanted him to wait for you. Because you left, so he had every right to move on. Still, you were only human, an enamored human whose heart now broke in two.

You feel the bile rise in your throat and you shake your head as if to clear those stupid thoughts away. You left, for god’s sake, you weren’t allowed to feel this way. But still, it hurt, it hurt so bad all you wanted to do was to curl in a ball and weep.

"I hope that you are happy with them. That's all I ever wanted for you, happiness." Your voice wavers and he knows, Chan must know you are trying so hard not to break down. So he doesn’t comment, he only smiles at you, which makes your heart break even more, because he must smile at them like this all the time now.

"I will get going," you abruptly stand up, dusting your pants. "Let me walk you home," he offers and you shake your head no.

"It's nearly midnight, you are out of your mind if you think I'll let you walk alone."

"Okay," you simply reply. Truth is, you weren’t processing what he was saying anymore. 'I love them' kept repeating itself in your head like a broken mantra. He found someone else. He found someone else. He found someone else, and it isn’t you. 

"This is me", you clear your throat when you arrive in front of your apartment, and Chan stops in his tracks.

“Come here”, he says and it’s all it takes for you to bury yourself in him. Just like four years ago, he was leaving you with a goodbye hug. Only this time, there was no hope left. Only a sense of finality. He knows that you still love him, you couldn't hide that from him. But he doesn't love you anymore and he can't hide that from you.

The hug only lasted a mere ten seconds, but you tried your best to take it all in, to memorize how it felt for Chan to hug you again. You desperately needed to patch up the broken memories you had left of him.

You finally lean away, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your shirt. Chan’s brows furrow looking at you, and you smile reassuringly. "I'm okay really. This is just bittersweet to me."

"It is to me too," he whispers and you nod, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from breaking down.

"You stay safe for me, yeah?" he tells you softly and you nod again, "you too."

"Goodbye, yn."

"Goodbye, Chan," and with that you turn around, entering your apartment block.

You've never hated goodbyes more than in that instant.

------------

it's been 3 months since your talk with Chan. Admittedly, you've gone back to that convenience store where you've met him, for a month straight, just in case he went back there. He didn't. And now you had a large stock of snacks you didn't know what to do with.

After that, you went to all the places where you've gone to on your dates. You don't know what you were expecting. You've lost Chan, but still, you always found yourself back to where you shared memories with him. But he wasn't there.

In the third month, you've started accepting that you lost him for good. The love mingled with the ache and you found comfort in its everlasting presence. It served as a reminder that you did love him, and he did love you back at some point.

Thankfully, your work was going really well, and tonight, you were out with your superior to celebrate a successful deal you chaperoned and discuss some upcoming projects.

You enter the restaurant, your boss hot on your tracks, when you abruptly stop. Sat on a table right across from you is Chan with a girl you did not recognize. You would have bolted out had it not been for your boss who looked at you with worried eyes. You shake your head mouthing an "I'm fine" to him.

While your boss placed your order, you couldn’t help but stare at Chan. He looked so... happy with her. She said something and he laughed, tipping his head back. You felt jealousy gnaw at your heart because you were the one who used to make him laugh like that.

You left, you remind yourself, you are the one who left.

Against your own will, you look up at Chan once again, only this time he was looking at you too. You hold his gaze as if under a spell, and when the girl next to him touches his hand softly to bring him to her, you almost sob right there and then.

"... our partners will come from France and you will have to hold a meeting with them tomorrow."

"Sure. I already prepared the slides and sent them over to your mail," you nod. Work, forget about Chan, work.

"I will check them out. You'll have Clara with you?"

"Yes, she's the only one who can speak French besides me. I have been overlooking her for this past month and she's really competent."

"Should I challenge her?"

"Yeah, I think she's up to the task", you smile and he nods, satisfied.

You try to eat your dinner after that, keeping up with your boss’s chatter. But it felt like a punishment- sitting there when the man you still loved was on a date right across from you.

And as if your night couldn’t get any worse, you hear thunder rumble loudly. You clench your glass so tightly in your hand- you are surprised it didn’t break.

You had a really really big fear of thunder. It stemmed from when you were a child, playing hide and seek when a thunderstorm happened. You ended up being stuck in the closet for an hour because your cousins forgot about you, and you fainted from how afraid you were.

You look up at your boss apologetically, you couldn't tell him you had to leave because of a childhood phobia, so you quickly try to muster up an excuse. "I'm sorry to cut it short but can I go? I have a- a dentist appointment and I need to wake up very early tomorrow."

"Sure. I'll see you at work?". You have never been more grateful for his understanding.

"Yeah, thank you for dinner".

You quickly grab your things, leaving the restaurant. You hop in your car but you are shaking so badly, you can't even start the engine. Another thunder resounds and you drop your keys, forcefully shutting your eyes. You try to drown out the sound with your hands clasped on your ears but it didn’t help. It was too much- the pain, the fear, the ache. You needed everything around you to stop.

You hear the door next to you suddenly open and you snap your eyes toward it, to find a disheveled Chan standing there. He pulls you out of your seat, instantly bringing you to his body.

He knows how scared you are of thunder.

"Shhh, it's okay, I'm here. You're safe," he pats your head gently and you hug him tighter to you; as if he was your only mean of survival.

He tries to peel away but you only hold him closer, to which he rubs soothing circles on your back, “I’m not going anywhere, let me drive you home, okay?”

You nod against his chest and he lets go of you, holding your hand instead. He opens the passenger door for you then he quickly hops into the driver’s seat. He starts off your car, blasting the music so loud you no longer hear the thunder booming.  

Your hand is still tightly clasped in his when you arrive home.

He silently opens the door for you once more, and you lead him to your apartment. You were mortified he had to leave the restaurant for you, but you were so grateful for him, because at the end of the day, he came to you.

Chan awkwardly stands in your living room and you figure the least you could do is apologize. "I’m sorry I cut your date short."

"You sound jealous", he points out.

"I am jealous, but mostly sorry."

"You shouldn't date someone who won't be with you in times like these," he dismisses your words, and you frown. Why did he sound angry all of the sudden?

"He didn't know."

"Still, he should have seen the signs. I was across the room but I saw you shaking for god's sake!” he almost shouts and you take a step toward him.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't," he is lying.

"Why does it bother you?” you insist. You needed to know.

"I said it doesn’t yn," he enunciates but you don’t back off.

“He’s my boss that’s why I was alone, but why? Why does it matter to you?"

"Because I fucking lied", he shouts, inching closer to you. "Because I lied yn, I never found someone else, it was you, it was always you."

"What... but the girl?".

"She's my coworker yn. I tried to forget you. I tried but you were always there. You were everywhere. And I had to carry on with the love I had for you but I didn't know where to put it anymore. Because you didn't tell me, you didn't tell me where the love was supposed to go now that you left!"

You stare at him unblinking, afraid that this was all just a figment of your imagination.

"And then... and then you came back and it was as if no time has gone by. It was as if you'd never left and I wanted to kiss you and hug you and I wanted you back. I needed you back", his hands are on your shoulders now, grasping you tightly as if to convince himself that you were here.

"But I couldn't, I couldn't allow you in because what if you left again? I wouldn't survive that, yn," his voice cracks at your name and it’s all it takes for you to bring his lips crashing down on yours.

You stagger back, your fingers grazing your lips in shock, "I'm so sorry, I didn't-", your words are cut off by his mouth on yours once again, "don't stop", he whispers and you kiss him, again and again. Your mouths moving in sync to the symphony that is your love.

When you finally pull away, he places his forehead on yours and you close your eyes. "Tell me this is real, that you're back to me."

"I'm here."

"You still feel like a dream."

"I'm here, I'm here", you reassure, your hand gently cradling his cheek, "I never stopped loving you Chan. I knew I was destined to love you, whether you loved me back or not."

"You are my soulmate", he leans back, kissing your forehead softly, "you and I are one."

"I've got a tattoo of your handwriting", you confess softly and his eyes snap open.

"What?"

"I tattooed a sentence from the letter you left me, with your handwriting, 'Our love will remain'."

"Where?"

"Here", you trace the outline of your breast and he chokes, "somewhere only I can see it."

"You are crazy", he chuckles, a bewildered smile on his face.

"In love, yes," you giggle and he blushes, hiding his head in your neck.

“Can I see you tomorrow? We have a lot to talk about," he asks, peppering the curve of your neck with kisses.

"Sure, I'm all yours after 5 pm."

"Works for me. I’ll see you tomorrow?", he smiles, and you beam at him, "I’ll see you."

Chan doesn't let you go and you laugh, kissing his cheek, "you are not leaving?"

"I'm not", he smiles cheekily.

"And why is that?"

"Because....", he drawls out, his lips brushing against your collarbone, "I need to see that tattoo."

----------

A lover’s body is like a land you discover over and over again. And tonight, as Chan made love to you, you drank it all in- the flexing of his muscles and the new sounds he made. But despite those changes, you found out that you never forgot the secret passages to his body, and the ways only you can make him unfold.

Still, it wasn’t when his naked body hovered over yours that you felt bare in front of him. It was when you both laid next to each other, talking in bed until the sun rose, that he undressed your mind.

It is there, behind those walls that you both built, that Chan and yn from four years ago lived on.

And you were still as in love.