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tonycries · 8 months ago

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Lemme Ride, Baby!

Synopsis. Riding your cocky boyfriend to insanity is not a want, but a need. Especially when he sits there so deliciously arrogant - you just have to break him.

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cowgirl, slight switch! boys, established relationship, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. Had this in my drafts for so long.

He sits across from you on the bed. Long legs spread, eyes half-lidded, and kiss-bitten lips turned into an aggravating smirk that makes your dripping cunt clench.

“Good luck lasting more than five seconds, pretty girl.” he drawled lazily, oozing pure cockiness.

So that’s how he’s gonna play, huh?

“Let’s see if you can live up to your own hype, darling.”

“Mhm, I won’t be the one begging for mercy.”

Ah, for the life of him he should’ve known. Should’ve gotten an inkling at the way you sauntered over to him in nothing but a predatory grin. Should’ve begged for mercy at that carnal gleam in your eyes that made blood rush straight to his traitorously hard cock. You wanted to eat him alive.

And he was going to eat his words.

At first, your cocky boyfriend pretended to be unfazed, laying back leisurely on his forearms. But you saw the way his eyes flickered with nervousness when you grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and slammed him onto the mattress. You felt the way his already-throbbing erection twitched so animalistically as you urgently swung a leg over his hips. You knew you had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Let’s hope you can last as long as you talk.”

Bullying his achingly hard cock into your snug cunt, sinking down agonizingly slowly. Relishing the way his eyes roll back in sheer ecstasy as your plushy walls suck him up so desperately. “Fuck, yes. You feel s’amazing wrapped around me. Sure you can handle it all?”

You waste no time.

Abruptly slamming down on his leaking cock. “Ah- Hah-” Your boyfriend’s surprised moans get choked in his throat as you rock your hips back and forth at a punishing pace.

Pulling all the way up till his furiously flushed tip is teasing your sloppy hole. Slick dripping on his length, slamming down down down - his glistening veins massaging that one spot just right. Over and over. Harder. Faster.

The sinful squelches of your cunt filling the heady air of your bedroom. Driving him to insanity.

“Oh, god yes- jus’ like that ah fuck fuck fuck…” his low groans come in ragged bursts, cock twitching wildly. A large hand shoots up to clutch your bouncing breasts, tweaking your hardened nipples, the other having a white-knuckled grip on the sheets.

“Give up ye- ah! Hngh, you little fucker-” a moan escapes your lips as he bucks his hips defiantly, chasing his high. Thick tip kissing your cervix so painfully good.

Your hungry eyes bore into his blown-out ones, a defiant glint in them as he still tries to maintain his cool façade. Biting his bottom lip, brows furrowed in heavy concentration as he fights to hold back cumming.

Stubborn bastard.

Several things happen at once.

Your hand shoots out to grip his exposed neck, nails digging into his skin, hard. Almost as hard as you ram down on his cock, sheathing him till his twitching balls smack your ass. Wasting no time once he’s bottomed out. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out.

His pretty lips fall into soft oh. Fucked out, gurgled moans leaving his lips around the hand at his throat. “Oh! Ah! Shit, tha’s right. Take every inch.” And if he thought he was going to pass out before then-

He couldn’t even finish the thought, brain stuck on the way you clamp down so obscenely around him, milking him greedily. Biceps curling, a hand reaches above him to hold onto the headboard - and maybe his sanity.

“Give up yet?” You grind down mercilessly, walls hugging his throbbing erection impossibly tight. Clit rubbing against his toned pelvis. Back and forth and back and forth and- Sloppy, it was so sloppy.

Slick gushing out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “God, fuck- hah. That all you got, pretty girl?.”

Thighs burning, you alternate between torturously slow strokes and frantic bouncing that left you both restless. Hypnotizing rhythm him slowly towards the edge, only to reel him back again.

He will eat his words.

You lose track of time. Maybe it’s been hours - maybe even just a few minutes.

Pulling and pushing. Over and over.

“Ah- Hngh-.” Eyes barely keeping open, torn between the fucking obscene view of your dripping pussy swallowing his cock so greedily and the lustful, power-drunk expression on your face. “Wanna- wanna cum, pretty girl.”

“Then beg for it.”

“No.”

Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead. You watch, cunt fluttering at the fucked-out little smile curling his lips, and the carnal way his neck was leaning into the tight grasp you had around it.

You lean forward, a cruel smile playing on your lips, “Beg for it.” you repeat, voice sultry and dangerous.

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out from where his eyes were scrunched closed. “No.” he whispers, jaw clenched tight.

You press impossibly closer, breasts hot against his sculpted chest, sticky with sweat. Not stopping your maddening rhythm, your breath is hot against his ear, “Beg for it, and I’ll let you cum harder than you ever have before.”

He throws his head back, toes curling into the mattress, and thighs quivering at the way you were using him like nothing more than a toy.

“Please.” he finally breathes, words barely audible over the sloppy slapping of skin on skin.

“Louder.”

“Please, let me cum, pretty girl.” he groans, leaning into the mockingly innocent peck you leave on the tip of his nose.

You reward him, slamming down on his throbbing cock with renewed vigor. Finally giving into the way you were drunk off his cock just as much as he was off your pussy. A hand reaching behind you to massage his balls, feeling the weight on your palm. Tugging on them in a way that has his breath hitching and dick twitching so desperately inside you. Aching for release.

“God, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He lets out a guttural moan, thrusting up into you in short, frantic jabs to match your unforgiving cadence. His leaking tip hitting that perfect angle to send sparks flying behind your eyelids.

And you let him, chasing your high as much as his, eyes locked on his greedy gaze.

How long has it even been? All he knows is that fuck if heaven was real then he was there right now, looking at a goddess herself. Ah, close. So close. His thrusts grow jerkier, cock pulsing inside you.

“Cum for me, darling. Fill me up till you’re leaking out of me.”

A sharp whimper of your name and he’s spilling into you. His body bows into yours, thick, hot ropes of his cum that fill your snug cunt. Painting your walls white to match the pleasure that runs down his spine - all the way to his leaking cock. It gushes inside of you, trailing down his sensitive cock to form a creamy ring at his base.

Stars behind his eyes, teeth gritted. He’s heard of orgasms so powerful they take control of one’s body, and right now fuck if this isn’t that then he didn’t know what was.

Nails digging into your hips - keeping you still as he pounds into you, fucking his seed deeper and deeper. Cock throbbing around your quivering walls - overstimulated as you cum around the feeling of him filling you up. Vision blurring, blood roaring in your ears as everything crashes together like a tidal wave.

Before you know it, you’re collapsing onto his heated chest. Limbs tangled and breaths mingling as you both try to catch your breaths.

You can feel his cum leaking out of you, thick and sticky. Pooling between your legs. Stomach feeling so full of him.

“Looks like you talked a lot more shit than you could handle, darling.” you grin, still breathless.

Oh. You shouldn’t have said that.

It was like a flip switched.

Seizing your moment of weakness, rolling over in the blink of an eye. You sink into the now-soaked mattress as his large hands hold a bruising grip on your wrists, pinning them right above your head.

He loomed menacingly over you, low whisper hot against your ear and sending shivers down your spine.

“My turn, pretty girl.”

- GOJO, Choso, OIKAWA, Kuroo, Suna, Tsukishima, ATSUMU, EREN

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

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0o-junebug-o0 · 28 days ago

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Bleach Stains

summary: You discover one of your favorite shirts got stained in the wash, Spencer helps you feel better

genre: fluff, very light angst and hurt/comfort

cw: completely gn!reader (reader is not described), no use of y/n, implied autistic!reader, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer)

wordcount: 0.6k

a/n: wrote this bc this just happened to me and I want someone to make me feel better (I've also asked Reddit if they can find where to get another copy of the shirt)

You dump the clean laundry on the bed and begin to sort between Spencer’s clothes and your own. After about half of the pile is sorted and folded, you pick up one of your shirts, and when you hold it up you feel like your heart stops. There are bleach stains near the collar, standing out in a garish orange compared to the pale green of the shirt’s fabric. You don’t know how it happened, you don’t think you or Spencer even own bleach.

You turn the shirt around and look at the flower on the back. There’s another, darker stain next to it. Your eyes start to burn and tears blur your vision as you stare at it. You love this shirt. You sniffle and a tear slips down your cheek. You wipe it away with frustration as you feel your chin wobble. You don’t know why you’re so upset. It’s just a shirt. It’s just a stupid shirt. But you love this shirt. You bought it from a vendor at an art show last summer and you threw away the business card that came with it. And the brand on the tag is for the base shirt, without the design. You have no way of finding another.

You clutch the shirt to your chest and sit, curled up on the edge of the bed, the rest of the laundry forgotten. You know you could still wear it, the stains aren’t that noticeable, but it still feels ruined. Your shoulders shake with silent sobs.

“Hey, do you know where—“ You look up to see Spencer standing in the doorway. He takes one look at your face and softly asks, “Oh, honey, what’s wrong.”

Fat tears stream down your cheeks and Spencer rushes over to you, pulling you into his arms. You bury your face in his chest, clutching your shirt between you, and cry. Spence rubs your back as he holds you, letting your emotions run their course.

“I-it’s ruined,” you whimper.

“What is, sweetheart?” Spencer asks softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You pull back and hold up the shirt to show him the stains. “I don’t kn-know how it happened. But now it’s ruined! And-and I don’t know why I’m so sad. It’s such a stupid thing to be sad about!” you cry.

“It’s not stupid, sweetheart. And I’m so so sorry it got stained. I know how much you like this shirt.”

You sniff and wipe your eyes. “But it is stupid! It’s just a shirt!” you argue.

“If it’s upsetting you, it’s not stupid. And it’s not just a shirt, it’s special, right?”

You nod weakly.

“I’m sure we can find another one,” Spencer offers.

You shake your head. “It’s a modified shirt I got at an art vendor,” you whisper. “I didn’t keep the business card.”

Spencer smiles sympathetically. “I’m sure there’s a way, I’m friends with Penelope after all.”

You smile weakly at him before looking back down at the shirt balled in your hands. “And I can always wear it as a sleep shirt,” you mutter.

“Exactly,” Spencer agrees. “You don’t have to get rid of it. You can still wear it out too, if you want.”

You shake your head. “Can I have a hug?” you ask weakly, looking back up at Spencer.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says, pulling you tight against his chest. He holds you, rocking back and forth ever so slightly until you feel better, and together, you fold the rest of the laundry.

Months later, on your birthday, Spencer hands you a thin box wrapped in white wrapping paper after you’d opened your other cards and gifts. You look at him, confused, and tear open the wrapping paper. You carefully open the box, and inside it sits a brand new version of that shirt and a note that says “From Spencer, Penelope, and the people of Reddit”. A laugh bubbles up your throat and, clutching the shirt like a lifeline, you launch yourself at Spencer, pulling him into a hug and whispering, “Thank you.”

_____

REQUESTS ARE (temporarily) CLOSED!

Taglist!: fill out this form if you want to be tagged when I post fics

@daryls-crossbow16 @roboticsuccubus83 @nemobee777 @dorcas4meadowes @spenciesslut @Idfk17 @pleasantwitchgarden @angeliccss @novaana @moonysreid @cynbx @dead-universe @starlighta @eliscannotdance @ilyremuslupin @mylove4lana @written-in-the-stars @khxna @yahboohah @greyslover3004 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @k31sley @screechingphantommaker @junodz

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wosoamazing · 5 months ago

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Celiac

McFoord x Child!R

Warnings: Vomiting, Celiac Disease A/N: Doesn't really have a plot and I don't like the ending, only short but at least it's something

“Ma, I don’t feel good,” you told her as your stomach cramped, you were sitting beside her as you watched some of the girls train, your Ma having a quick break.

“Oh Munchkin, do you think you’re getting a bug?” you shook your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach tighter, “what have you eaten today?” you listed off everything you’d eaten that day.

“Kyra, did you check the oats were gluten free?” your Ma asked the younger Australian, as you leaned your weight into your Ma’s side, stomach feeling worse by the second.

“Um, no, I thought they were, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise, I should’ve checked anyway just to make sure, I-” “It’s okay really, don’t worry, you didn’t do it on purpose and we know you tried your hardest, could you just tell Cait that Y/N/N is having an episode and to talk to Jonas, I’m just going to take her inside.” Your Ma asked the now guilty girl who nodded before quickly jogging off to your Mum.

“Hey Monkey, you not feeling well?” Your Mum spoke softly to you as she walked into the locker room, you just shook your head slightly in response to her, “Jonas said we were right to go home,” she told your Ma, from just a quick glance it was clear you were quite unwell. You were sitting in your Ma’s lap cured into a ball, her arms tightly wrapped around you, she rocked you slightly back and forth as she murmured comforting words to you, hating how there was nothing she could do to help you.

“I think the oats Kyra used in the Anzac Biscuits she made for us all weren’t actually gluten free, she felt really bad but I told her not to worry and that it wasn’t her fault, do you want to have a shower and then I will and we can take her home?” Your Mum nodded before quickly heading to the shower.

“That’s it Monkey, let it all out, hopefully it will make you feel better,” your Mum encouraged you as you were hunched over the toilet in the bathroom, stomach harshly ejecting it’s contents, you sat in her lap and she held your hair back with one hand while the other rubbed soft circles into your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” your Mum told you as you collapsed back into her, curling into a ball, pressing your side against her front. Your stomach was super bloated but also intensely cramping and you felt really tired.

“Do you think we should try your tablets? Maybe the anti-sick ones first and then you muscle ones?” she asked as her hand carded through your hair.

“P-please,” your voice answered barely above a whisper.

“Okay, let's just stay here until Ma comes out of her shower, I’ll message her to bring them to us,” she murmured into the top of your head before kissing it.

_______

Your Mum’s were quite thankful for their now quiet day, not realising how much they both needed it. Thankfully the anti-nausea meds had worked and you had only thrown up once. Your muscle relaxers helped a bit but you were still in a lot of pain and your stomach was still cramping quite badly. When you arrived home your Mum’s took you into their room, where you almost immediately fell asleep on your Mum. You had moved in your sleep and now you were sleeping on top of your Ma, hand clutching the fabric of your Mum’s shirt to make sure she stayed. They had a movie playing in the background as they organised some things, in the middle of a discussion about the Olympics and whether you would go on camp with your Mum or go and watch some games with your Ma when the doorbell rang. Your Mum pried your hands off of her shirt and quickly got up to find a guilty looking Kyra on the other side of the door when she opened it.

“Kyra? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at training?” Your Mum questioned her.

“I feel really bad about y/n/n, Jonas let me go early, I bought some things for her,” she told your Mum as she presented the gift basket to her.

“Thank you Kyra, that’s very kind of you, and honestly it’s not your fault, it was an accident, we understand.” Kyra nodded as she fiddled with the bottom of her hoodie, “you can see her if you want, she is currently asleep, and not very well, but I’m sure she won’t mind you coming to say hi,” the young Aussie nodded and followed your Mum through to where you were. You had woken up now, and Katie was helping you drink some water, you were still quite unwell, and looked like you were falling asleep sitting up.

“Monkey, Kyra came to see you,” your Mum told you as she walked into the room.

“Kyra?” you said groggily and she softly nodded her head, the younger girl stepped inside the room and sat down on the bed next to you, to which you climbed into her lap and fell asleep.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #awfc x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #McFoord x R #katie mccabe x reader #caitlin foord x reader

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lilacs-stars · 3 months ago

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sweet like you

pairing: bridget x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is charming's sister) SUMMARY: you and your pink-haired best friend have your own ways of showing affection. but what will happen if you take things to the next level? GENRE: tooth-rotting fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining CW: nothing really, reader is down bad, thoughts of loneliness and worries she's not good enough, mouth-watering descriptions of food WC: 7k

A/N: this one was heavily based off of the five love languages! I personally think that bridget shows love by gift giving and quality time (although I am willing to hear people out on this), and reader is words of affirmation and physical touch, with maybe a dash of acts of service. hope you guys enjoy, and thank you to the anon who requested this! please give me feedback and suggestions, I’d love to know your thoughts!

You fidget nervously, skittishly glancing up at the girl in front of you.

You were so afraid to do it, to maybe ruin what you two already have.

But if you don’t, you’ll be trapped in a life overshadowed by regret, yearning for a love that will forever linger in your heart like a forgotten memory just out of reach, a devotion that has taken root in you so deep you know it is impossible to abandon or ignore.

And with that thought, you gently lean in towards her soft, pink lips.

“So? How is it?”

The pink-haired girl in front of you stands with her arms hugged to her chest, hands curled in fists that sit right below her chin. She looks at you with an anticipation so potent it's practically overflowing, rocking back and forth in a way that makes you think she’ll combust at any second. Her kind eyes are stretched wide open, staring down your every move as she eagerly awaits your answer.

You take a bite into the freshly baked fruit tart in your hand, the perfectly golden crust and masterful arrangement of strawberries, blueberries, and kiwi slices on top making it look almost too good to eat.

As soon as the flavors make contact with your tongue, you practically melt away at the sweet, delicious taste that graces your tastebuds. The pastry base is like a crisp and delightfully buttery embrace that unifies all the elements, a shell that cradles the flavors with care. The fruits on top are delectable and juicy, the natural sweetness and burst of tang adding a refreshing balance to the sugary taste of the pastry, like little fireworks on your tongue.

Your favorite part, however, is the heavenly vanilla custard filling. It’s smooth and decadent, like diving into a saccharine river of vanilla that glides across your tongue. It’s as if the very essence of pure bliss itself was captured and transformed into a rich, sweet nectar. The cool, silky filling and fresh fruits are delightful in how they contrast the warm, flaky crust, all the ingredients coming together in a harmonious composition of textures and flavors.

Your eyes, which had fluttered closed in sheer ecstasy, open again to see a Bridget that is buzzing with excitement.

Your mouth, still stuffed and chewing, manages to mumble out, “It-it’s incredible," as you cover it with your spare hand—proper etiquette being second nature to you by now—trying to get out the partially coherent words.

Bridget still looks at you with a zealous sparkle in her eyes, expression unchanged and expectant, relentlessly teetering on the balls of her feet like a hummingbird rapidly flapping its wings as it hovers by a flower. Most people would have stopped at the compliment, but you, being a near-professional taste tester from the number of Bridget’s creations that you’ve tried since you met her, have a full evaluation prepared as you swallow.

“The crust is very buttery and just the right amount of crispiness, perfectly balancing out the smooth creaminess of the custard. The fruits add a bit of tartness and a fresh, juicy taste that evens out the sweetness of the rest of the pastry, that could be a bit overwhelming otherwise. As for aesthetics”—you shift around slightly from your position on the edge of her bed, the fluffy pink comforter beneath you practically swallowing you whole—“your placement is very well-done. I would recommend adding a glaze to the fruits, both to make them glossy and to enrich the taste.”

Bridget nods her head fervently, absorbing your every word like your suggestions are an indisputable truth. “I feel like the crust is a bit soggy, too,” she adds, face wrinkled in a frown as she stares at the dessert in your hand.

You look down at your half-bitten treat—its original, untouched beauty now destroyed—in a scrutinizing consideration. “Did you wait for the crust to cool down before adding the filling?” Bridget tilts her head upwards, eyes deep in thought as she looks to the ceiling. “Hmm, now that you mention it, I don’t think I did.”

"That must be the cause." You are certainly no baker yourself, but you’ve had lots of practice critiquing Bridget’s creations to the point where you are highly knowledgeable in the theory of baking. “Still, it is unbelievably delicious.” As if hearing those words for the first time, Bridget’s face lights up, her features all but radiating a brilliant glow as she beams. She clasps her hands together, crying, “Aww, thanks!”

You can’t help but laugh a little—Bridget’s limitless joy is truly contagious. At times like this, when you're staring up at her, gaze swirled with pure adoration and awe as if she's an angel that descended from the heavens in front of your eyes, you start to think just how lucky you are. For once in your life, the strings of fate finally pulled in your favor, crossing your paths with the girl clad in a bright pink dress facing you.

Fate is often cruel to you, like an unrelenting winter wind blowing in your face and biting at your skin, like nature laughing at you as you shiver in raw misery, coldness seeping deep into your bones. A cruel trickster that seems to follow you with malevolent intentions, a vicious smirk painted on its face as it sends every misfortune barreling your way.

You might have been born a royal, a princess that has an unfathomable number of gowns stacked in her closet and an equal number of suitors lined up for her hand. But you aren’t like your brother; you don’t approach groups of strangers and introduce yourself with a wink and an alluring demeanor. He is Prince Charming, after all, which causes you to often ruminate over how accurately your parents named him.

Instead of flashing a winsome smile to every guest at a ball, or every visitor invited to your house, and strike up a conversation with them, you often seek refuge in the quiet expanse of your own room. When required to make an appearance, you prefer to loiter around in the shadows or pass by unseen, like a ghost. This has made you quite the anomaly in the royal world; everyone always whispers behind covered hands and in hushed voices, spreading rumors and wildly speculating about why the princess of such a gregarious family never makes a presence of herself publicly.

And it’s the same at school. Bridget, like your brother, will approach absolutely anyone with a smile gracing her features and kind eyes crinkled in the corners, oftentimes with a home-baked treat in hand. She has countless friends, many random people she mentions or smiles at in the hallways that you’ve never even seen before. She’s never had to worry about finding a partner in class, never avoided eye contact in a crowd of people she didn’t know, never sat watching other people’s carefree conversations with the weight of being an outsider, always looking in through the glass of isolation keeping you from them.

Which is why, to this day, in moments like these, you question whether fate has made a mistake of some sort—maybe jumbled up different karmic ties or gotten confused with names when it came time to draw people’s futures. Or, your biggest fear, is that this is all some elaborate plan, a puzzle piece in destiny’s plan to make your life as ill-fortuned as possible.

In times like this one, you peer up at Bridget and wonder, why in the world, out of her multitude of friends, did she decide to spend the most time with you? To dub you her “best friend”, if you will.

Bridget had noticed your solitary manners a long time ago—like a magnet, she’s drawn to the people who are most in need of a friend, the most ostracized of the outcasts. And so, she had patiently sat with you every day, struck up a conversation even when you gave her the shortest answers possible that were still deemed polite, and attempted to make plans with you, although you always tried to cover up your outlandish excuses with gracious thank-yous.

Over time, the girl with the bright eyes and unfaltering smile finally wore you down, until you began sitting next to her yourself, began looking forward to your idle conversations, and even sought to spend as much time with her as possible. In fact, you spend more time at her dorm than you do yours; neither of you have roommates, so the only time you go back to your room is to get into bed. Besides that, you spend every waking moment basking in Bridget’s cheery presence, so much so that half your belongings are scattered on her floor (your doing), or neatly tucked away in a drawer (her tidying up after you leave).

Your relationship grew to a point where you began to know Bridget well enough that you couldn't keep denying the way she seemed to know everyone, and on a rather personal basis as well. How she had a party or event she was invited to every weekend, or how she had an entire roster of people willing to help her at the smallest of notices anytime she needed a favor. Sure, she may not seem like the “popular” sort, which had definitely deceived you as well when you first met her, but she was definitely well-known and especially well-liked.

So you found yourself many a night sitting on her bed—as you are now—looking at the stack of pretentious letters and notes, carefully placed in ostentatious envelopes with cloyingly ornate lettering, wondering what about you made Bridget seek you out. And that’s when you first thought of it. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t actually like you.

And once that thought popped in your mind, once it was planted and dug its roots in your brain, it grew rapidly, spreading uncontrollably like a weed that was left unchecked for a bit too long. Bridget probably only talked to you in the beginning just to be nice, the intrusive, unwanted voice hissed in your mind. She didn’t really like you. And now you keep on leeching onto her, and she’s way too nice to say she finds you annoying.

Fueled by your disbelief that anyone, especially someone with as many options as Bridget, would actively want to spend their time with you, you started to believe that Bridget was only entertaining you out of required courtesy. And so, you tried spending less time with her after that, building up your walls again and shutting her out; suddenly, you didn’t approach her in the hallways anymore, were always too busy “studying” to hang out in her room, and your long rants about various, trivial topics were reduced to simple, curt responses.

But Bridget persisted, always choosing you amidst a myriad of familiar faces beckoning her over. She still wanted to make plans with you, still left you treats outside your door to taste test. And so, with a hesitant uncertainty, only brought out by your crippling fear and burning shame at the possibility of even coming close to hurting Bridget’s feelings from your cold actions, you decided that she might actually want to be with you, of her own free will.

That night, you had thanked her for being such a good friend to you. She replied as sweetly and modestly as ever (“Oh, it’s nothing! Don’t even mention it.”). When you brought up how you wouldn’t have any friends if not for her choosing to persistently break down your walls, as you are undeniably terrible at making friends, she had simply told you that your style of befriending people was to wait for them to approach you first, whilst her style was to approach them first.

She had pointed out, with a compassionate wrinkle in her brow, that with your way, at least you could be certain that whoever cared enough about you to initiate something and work towards befriending you probably had genuine intentions, which was a drawback of becoming friends with just anyone, like she did—you never who truly likes you, and who’s plotting to stab you in the back. You kept your mouth shut that night, but you really couldn’t help but think if that were true, then did that mean that the only person with genuine intentions towards you in the entire school was Bridget herself?

Fate, you decided, is certainly an interesting character.

“Maybe I should make another batch.” Bridget’s musings draw you back to the present, where she now stands with a bitten fruit tart in her hand and two unoccupied cavities in the tray she had baked them in. “I was thinking of handing these out to my History of World Magic class tomorrow, but they aren’t very good…” She frowns again as she looks down at her pastry, as if furrowing her brow and staring intensely at it can miraculously fix it, or at least give her some insight into discerning what to improve.

“Bridget.” You push up off the bed, taking a step towards her and placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to make another batch. These ones are already great.”

Abruptly, you swoop in towards her opposite hand, stealing a bite from her already partially eaten dessert. You chew with a smile on your face as you look at Bridget’s slightly startled expression, commenting, “See? This one is just as good as the other one.”

Bridget remains frozen for a moment, her forehead still puckered, before she relents into a soft grin. “Alright, then. If you say so. I guess they are alright.”

“That’s the spirit.” You let go of her shoulder, now leisurely strolling around the room, eyeing the various objects neatly placed on her furniture. Eyes scanning over each item, your hand subconsciously reaches out, fingertips languidly brushing along her possessions as if soaking up her essence. “About History, I’m so unprepared for that test we have coming up. Ugh, who even assigns that much work? Especially since Mr. Poirier already grades so harshly. Like, last test, he marked me down because I only gave three examples of goblin strikes in the past century out of the five he taught. I mean, you can’t mark someone down if you never said how many examples to give! He’s so unfai—”

Your voice cuts off as your eyes snag on a collection of objects on Bridget's desk that weren’t there before, an assortment of various tools and materials that when combined appear to belong to a crafting set: multicolored beads, tubes of sparkly glitter, delicate metal chains, a set of pliers, and a bright pink vial of glue.

“What are these?” you ask curiously, leaning in closer with a furrowed brow as you inspect the items on the desk, trying to make out what they are, or rather, what they are going to be made into.

“Ah! It’s nothing!” Bridget squeals, rushing over and throwing a spare blanket over the desk before you can take a closer look.

You spin around to face her, a frown etched into your features. “If it’s nothing, then why are you hiding it?”

“It’s not important!”

“You know you’re only making me want to know even more.”

“It’s really nothing! Just don’t think about it.”

You lift your hand, inching it closer to the draped cloth. “I’m thinking about it,” you tease, playfully moving your arm at a gradual, yet deliberate, pace towards the desk. “Still thinking about it. I’m getting closer, closer, closer…”

Just as your fingers are about to make contact with the blanket to pull it off, Bridget lurches forward, taking your troublesome hand in hers as she leads you away, towards the other side of the room with a nervous giggle.

“Come on!” you exclaim with a huff. “What’s so bad about what you’re doing that you don’t want to show me?”

“It’s not bad!” Bridget counters. “It’s just…look, you’ll find out what it is soon. Just give me some time, okay?”

“Hmm…” you hum, glancing upwards with faux consideration. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait that long.” A small, cheeky grin dances on your face as you try to conceal it with a feigned pout.

Bridget shoots you a look, a small smile finally spreading across her lips. “What were we talking about again? That’s right, History of World Magic. So, what were you saying?”

You notice the sudden—and rather forced—attempt to change the subject, but ultimately decide to brush it off. “Yeah, I was saying how Mr. Poirier is so unfair when it comes to grading! And his tests are always so hard. Like, seriously, he makes up test questions that he never even talked about during class. He just expects us to memorize the whole textbook or something.”

Bridget gives a small, rueful shrug. “Well, I guess he just wants us to learn the information well.” You shoot her a sharp look, one that screams "Seriously? You’re defending him?"

“Hey, I have an idea!" Bridget exclaims, eyes lighting up again. "How about tomorrow, after school, we go to the library and study for the test? With both our minds put together, we’re a lot less likely to miss something. After all, two heads are better than one. You aren’t busy or anything, right?”

You shake your head no, although it does pass your mind how Bridget must already know that you never have any plans besides the ones she makes with you. “‘Kay, study session tomorrow sounds good. Although we’re probably going to be there till midnight. I mean, seriously, who assigns one test on four different chapters?”

Just as you launch into yet another rant about your insensitive teacher whom you practically despise at this point, a deep, low horn sounds from somewhere out in the hallway, reverberating against the walls.

Both you and Bridget glance up at the clock on her wall, which is custom-made in the shape of a pink heart surrounded by a white rim, now with its glittery hands pointing at ten and twelve.

“How is it curfew already?” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Guess I have to head back to my room.” Many times, you’ve contemplated requesting to move in with Bridget, so you two can officially be roommates. After all, you practically are, with the way that people always knock on Bridget’s door first when asking for you (although that seldom happens, and the few rare times it has, it’s always been on a teacher’s behest). But every time you start to consider it, your mind plummets back into that dark place, the belief rooted deep into your consciousness whispering that you’d just burden Bridget with your inescapable presence and occupied space.

“Aw, well, I’ll see you tomorrow in class! And at the library!” Bridget says as she walks you to the door, her constant smiling shining through once again.

You both bid each other goodnight, and as you walk the familiar solitary path back to your room, the absence of Bridget’s cheerful and bright energy is achingly present. It’s as if a piece of you was stripped away, torn from your very being and leaving you numb and hollow, merely a void of fleeting emotions just out of your grasp. Like the sun disappearing during an eclipse, leaving everyone shrouded in darkness as they await its return, you feel as though your very liveliness is missing from you. You glide down the hallways soundlessly like a ghost, your body nothing more than a shell of the exuberance brought out by the girl who’s constantly emanating pure, unbridled positivity.

Despite your feelings of emptiness, a soft ray of warmth settles onto your soul as memories of the evening, and every other moment you spent in Bridget’s company, replay in your mind. You still hear her melodious laugh, still see the bright sparkle in her eyes only displayed in someone who has not yet been dulled by the merciless, unsparing nature of the world.

Even though she’s not there, you still feel as though she is, carrying a piece of her deep in your heart while you reminisce over your memories, as you always do when you’re in the quiet loneliness of your own company. Even though she’s not there, your heart races at the mere thought of her: her gaze as she listens intently to what you have to say, the way her arms wrap around your torso and how her hair tickles your neck as she gives you a tight, enthusiastic hug.

Even though she’s not there, a shadow of her presence forever lingers in your heart and mind, leaving you yearning to bask in her warm glow again.

You step into the library the next day, after the final bell dismisses you from your last lesson. The library is one of your favorite places in the entire school—aside from Bridget’s room, of course. The peaceful retreat of the rows of dusty shelves and worn, rickety tables is unmatched. The tranquility of the gentle silence that always covers the area like a blanket, the smell of weathered books holding untold quantities of knowledge soothing you with the smallest whiff. Whenever you step across that threshold, it’s like being taken into a different dimension, one with fewer heavy burdens weighing down your shoulders and more blissful ease, a feeling one only reaches when in an untroubled state of mind.

No one looks at you as you walk in, not even sparing a single glance or the slightest movement that acknowledges your arrival. Not that that’s an unusual feeling for you.

You make your way down the aisles of books to your usual table, where you and Bridget always sit, standing in a secluded corner. The book bag slung over your shoulder is weighed down with all the books and notes stuffed into it, causing your arm to ache with strain. Grimacing as the hemp strap painfully digs into your shoulder, certainly leaving a mark that you’ll discover later, you mentally hurl a few obscenities at your teacher for his absurd teaching methods that make your bag so heavy.

However, as you move towards the table, you can see that there’s already some foreign object placed on top of it. A shocked, annoyed anger sizzles inside of you, vexation pumping through your veins at the thought of someone stealing your table. Sure, it doesn’t actually belong to you, and everyone has an equal right to choose any seat they desire, but it’s still your preferred spot and any other one would feel disconcerting and out of place.

As you near, now silently directing your colorful words towards the table thief, you begin to notice that no one else is around; nor do you see any materials on the table besides the peculiar item, which appears to be a small plastic container.

You approach the box, noticing that there’s a small, fuchsia-colored note stuck to the top as you get closer. Instantly, you recognize the handwriting, the half-cursive swirls and loops paired with the little hearts topping all the i’s instead of dots engraved into your brain.

“Dear Y/N,

I’m so so sooo sorry, but someone had an emergency and I had to go help them! I feel really bad for leaving you, and I promise I’ll make it up to you!

For now, I made you some treats as an apology (and to help make studying a little more bearable). Sorry again! I hope you enjoy them!

Love always,

Bridget

You smile at the little heart drawn next to her name, a staple of her signature. Opening the lid of the container, you see that sure enough, it’s stocked with plenty of macarons, a multitude of colors and flavors beckoning at you to try them.

You sigh as you grab a chair to sit in, the small wave of relief that washes over you soon overshadowed by the returning feeling of loneliness, rekindling inside of you like a greeting from an old friend you haven’t seen in a while. You reside in its arms with a comfort brought not by the warmth of a tender hug that soothes your pain and fills the hollow void residing in you, but instead by the ease of familiarity, the peace obtained when the outcome is a cruel one, yet one you foresaw. The security granted by basking in the solace of numbing arms wrapped around you, the feeling of being all alone and undesired, unwanted, something you’ve grown all too accustomed to.

Once again, you’re given a painful reminder of how popular Bridget is, how many other friends she has. How at the end of the day, you're simply an option, a choice she chooses to make. One that she can always change in the blink of an eye.

But you know that you can’t really be disappointed or feel so rejected because of this. After all, it's not like you can expect her to not have a life outside of you—ignoring the fact that you don’t really have a life outside of her. It would be selfish of you to want her to yourself all the time, right?

Readjusting your chair closer to the table, you remind yourself that it’s nice enough of her to even remember your plans, much less take the time to stop by here and leave you a note explaining her absence, in addition to a sweet—both figuratively and literally—gift. She could have just forsaken you with no note, no warning. But then again, that’s simply not the type of person Bridget is. If she knew just how much her presence affects you, how she fills your days with a joy, a happiness so pure and unparalleled by everything and everyone else, you’re almost certain she’d never leave your side again.

To her, you’re just another friend, someone she enjoys seeing. To you, she’s your sun, the very being you revolve around and depend on to survive.

She truly is your everything.

The mouthwatering macarons eyeing you through the clear plastic invite you to take a bite, and you indulge yourself as you rip off the lid and relish in the soft crunch of the outer layers and the smooth flavors bursting within, reminding you of something akin to a dessert sandwich.

After munching on quite a few of them—you simply couldn’t help yourself, they were absolutely delicious—you begrudgingly heave your bag onto the table, pulling out the materials you so diligently packed.

You crack open your textbook to the first chapter, then your notebook to the first blank page. Ripping a sheet out from the spine, you place it down next to your notes. Every time you write something in your notebook, you copy it down on the empty page.

After all, you couldn’t let Bridget’s kindhearted nature get in the way of her good grades. Even if it did mean more grueling work on your part.

For her, you are willing to do anything. Just to see her beam at you again with those rosy lips, the sparkle in her eyes twinkling brightly at you. Reminding you that you’re the cause behind her happiness.

No matter the cost for you.

The sea of faces and bodies in front of you is slightly overwhelming, blurred flashes passing you as you struggle to find your way through the crowd. But then, your eyes snatch on a head of pink curls bouncing up and down animatedly, and instantly, you’re washed over with a wave of relief. Slipping through the cracks between the meandering crowd, you make your way over to the table Bridget is sitting at today in the Dining Hall.

“Hey,” you say gingerly, placing a hand on her shoulder to get her attention as you approach her from behind.

Bridget twists her head back, face visibly lighting up at the sight of you. “Y/N!” she exclaims, scooting over and excitedly patting the space next to her.

You take your seat, turning to face her. “Uh, so, about yesterday…”

Your plan was to thank her for the macarons and the thoughtful note, but before you get the chance, her eyes widen at your words as her face erupts in a look of deep penitence. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Fay was trying a new spell and accidentally burned half her hair off…” Her face contorts to a look of serious shock and concern, probably reimagining the scene.

“I know that’s no excuse though! I felt so bad for bailing on you, that I stayed up all last night just to finish this…”

She turns around and bends over her seat, reaching into her bag on the floor. She grabs something, then twists back around to you, clutching the mysterious object tightly in her hand.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands!” she instructs, vibrant with pulsating enthusiasm. A bit tentatively, you do as she says, putting your cupped palm out in front of you as you shut your eyes.

You feel a small, very solid object get placed in your hands (So not a new dessert to try, you think with only the slightest tinge of disappointment). But that all dissipates as soon as Bridget exclaims, “You can open them now!”

Your eyes flutter open, gaze pointed downwards towards your palms. Immediately, a tender surge of awe floods your heart, making its pace quicken as it beats rapidly. Your heart throbs with such a profound gratitude you worry it’s going to burst any second from how touched you feel.

You pick up the chain placed in your cupped hands, an elated smile breaking through as you take in the bracelet Bridget gave you. Decorated with numerous charms, you take the time to study all of them carefully, running your fingers over the meticulous hand-crafted details as you realize the significance of each one.

They’re not random designs chosen simply for aesthetic purposes; no, each one resembles something, either about you or your relationship with Bridget. A clear-cut gemstone of your favorite color placed next to a small depiction of your favorite animal both hang off the chain. Then there’s a metallic red apple symbolizing the one time you two went apple picking at an orchard; a little set of playing cards with the same design at the deck she used when she first taught you how to play; a small face of a gray kitten with white whiskers, resembling the one you two saved from an incredibly high and strangely twisted tree the first time you visited Wonderland.

Nevertheless, the finest of them all is the pink, glittery heart that sits right in the middle. Embellished on its surface is a fancy cursive B next to your first initial, conjoined with a small plus sign.

An everlasting symbol of your intimate bond.

Your mouth is fully agape, eyes round as saucers and eyebrows arched in a mix of nearly tangible astonishment and disbelief as you turn the bracelet around in your hands over and over, examining each charm with a sharp, precise eye. Bridget sits in quiet anticipation, holding her breath as she awaits any kind of reaction that can give her even a glimmer of an idea as to how you feel.

“Remember when you were asking me about the stuff on my desk the other day and I said I'd show you soon?” she asks, breaking the thick silence that has grown to be unbearable for her. “Well, I was working on this as a surprise for you. And, I mean, I felt so bad for leaving you yesterday that I wanted to give it to you today as a little apology.”

Your gaze finally breaks away from the bracelet, meeting Bridget’s jittery eyes. Before she can even process what’s happening, the next thing she knows you’ve lurched forward, arms wrapping so tightly around her body that she struggles to even breathe.

After she gets over the initial wave of shock, Bridget’s wide eyes melt into a compassionate smile, returning the embrace. You hug her firmly, getting lost in the moment and not letting go until you hear a little, “I can’t breathe,” paired with a soft tap on your back, drawing you out of your daze as you realize you’re practically smothering her.

“Oh! I-I’m sorry!” you exclaim, drawing back quickly and examining her figure with knitted brows, making sure she’s alright. “I just…I love it so much! It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me!”

Bridget gives a bubbly laugh, eyes matching her grin as she says, “Oh, it really was nothing. I mean, you’re a princess. I’m sure you’ve gotten much nicer things.”

Smiling, you don’t mention how even the most lavish of luxuries, the most exorbitant of material goods only the finest money can buy, all pale into nonexistence when compared to her gift. The thought, the care, the hours of painstaking work and dedicated moments spent carefully crafting, all for you, is simply unfathomable and impossible to match. You may be holding a small bracelet worth not even a tenth of the simplest of rings you normally get gifted by your family, but to you, it’s worth more than every mansion and diamond in the whole world.

You shake your head left and right, tears of joy brimming and threatening to spill as you lean into Bridget for yet another hug (this time making sure not to squeeze her quite so hard). You know that later, you’ll probably lie in bed and wince at your brashness in this moment, hands covering your flustered face as you toss and turn in embarrassment—but for right now, you’re too swept up in your emotions to care.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” you exclaim, pulling away once again to reach into your bag this time. Retrieving a stack of papers neatly stapled, with lines and lines of orderly notes written in meticulous handwriting, you hand them to Bridget. “I figured since you probably wouldn’t have the time to take notes for the test, I took them for you.”

This time, it’s Bridget’s turn to be flustered from your benevolent gesture. “You really didn’t have to!” she cries, a stunned expression painted on her face as she flips through the numerous pages of detailed notes. She peers back up to meet your gaze with a swirl of shock and delight, her gently creased eyes and the lines on her forehead displaying her inner thoughts. Bridget often wears her emotions on her sleeve, and from sharing countless hours with her, you’ve learned to interpret her facial expressions so well you can practically read her mind. And through her gaze, you can see how she’s in disbelief at the thought that, despite your hatred for the subject and assignment—which you made very well-known—you still spent twice the time you had to on it, just for her.

“Well, I guess we’re even now,” you casually add, saving Bridget from having to formulate a response—you can clearly tell she’s having difficulty putting her emotions into words.

She shakes her head ardently from side to side, her springy curls bouncing vibrantly. “No, we still lost the time we were supposed to spend together! And I did promise I’d make it up to you.”

Before you can open your mouth to tell her that she’d made it up plenty, her head swivels to the side. You follow her gaze to a wide window a few meters away, the bright rays of sun poking out through the clouds and casting golden stripes on the table in front of you.

Her head snaps back towards you, the light in her eyes burning bright as she enthusiastically suggests, “I heard the weather is really nice this weekend! How about we go on a picnic?”

“A picnic?” you repeat inquisitively. You don’t know what you were expecting, but this certainly surprised you.

“Yeah!” Bridget’s talking quickens, the glimmer in her eyes shining brighter as she continues while the vague idea solidifies in her mind. “It’ll be a lot more fun than another study session. I can make the food and you can bring the stuff! The fields just south of here are a popular spot. It’s going to be so much fun!”

She squeals as she claps her hands together. You match her smile, her enthusiasm once again infecting you. “Picnic it is, then,” you reply, grinning as she beams at your approval.

A subtle sigh slips past your lips, unnoticed by Bridget. The same way you always wish she didn’t miss how you look at her, pure adoration and devotion mirrored in your gaze, staring at her as if she created the skies and stars with her own two hands. Which she really did—at least in your universe.

A soft breeze blows against your face, tenderly caressing your cheeks as leaves rustle overhead, whispering to the wind of secrets unheard. The sky is a clear, vibrant blue, all but a few clouds lazily drifting by. Sunshine filters through the branches, casting dappled patterns of light over the checkered blanket beneath you. Birds somewhere in the treetops chatter and sing their pleasing songs, weaving a tapestry of notes that paint the horizon with harmonious brushstrokes. The grass sways gently, mirroring the serene breathing of the landscape.

Everything is tranquil, from the fluttering of butterfly wings to the laughter that sounds from pink lips, like the most melodious of music to your ears. The conversation isn’t that important to you; trivial, inconsequential topics that you really couldn’t care less for. But what truly matters is the way her eyes fill with the purest of sparkles, the way she doubles over as she giggles, the breeze brushing her captivatingly gorgeous curls out of her face.

There’s nothing in the world you would trade for this moment, this sliver in time where you are completely at peace. Where not a single care or worry can reach you, not when the only thing on your mind is how much your heart swells with pure affection, how simply perfect the girl in front of you is.

After she manages to catch her breath from laughing, Bridget meets your gaze—one that is directed at her, but isn’t really looking at her. Your eyes are distant, the unwavering smile on your speaking volumes of emotions.

“Those sandwiches were really good, weren’t they?” she asks you, referring to the special-made lunch that you two had just finished.

You nod, still grinning at her with a persistent gaze. “They were great, Bridget. Nothing that you make could ever taste anything less than delicious.”

She blushes, swatting at your arm playfully. “Hey, that’s not true!”

You laugh, sitting up from how you were previously lying on your back. Catching Bridget’s hand in midair, you reply, “Well, it is, because I don’t lie.”

“Oh? Since when?” she asks, mirth dancing on her features.

“Since always.” You feign annoyance at her accusations, your smile still shining through.

“Ah! Speaking of food, I have something special for you.”

You hum in surprise, watching as Bridget reaches over to your woven picnic basket. She shuffles closer to you, to the point where her knees almost brush against your thigh, with how she’s sitting cross-legged and you with your legs outstretched whilst leaning on one arm.

Opening the lid, her hand disappears inside for a moment before reemerging with a singular cupcake, topped with a swirly pastel pink frosting and decorated with small sprinkles in shades of white and red.

“This is a new recipe,” she explains, holding the treat out to you. “I made it with this super rare flower essence, shipped straight from Wonderland. Let’s just say I gave the batter a lick, and I think it’s my best creation yet.”

“You haven’t tried it yet?” you ask, moving to sit in a position similar to Bridget’s as you accept the dessert.

“Nope! I wanted you to have the first bite.”

Your smile only grows wider, now stretching from ear to ear, an undeniable sense of glee emanating from you. You’d normally argue with her, telling her that she really didn’t need to do something like this. But from all those failed attempts you’ve only learned that Bridget never listens, always putting you first time and time again. So, this time, you simply take a bite, nearly melting away again as the flavors hit.

The frosting has a sugary, saccharine taste, the sprinkles adding a delightfully contrasting texture to the creamy richness of the pink swirl. The cake below it is soft and moist, as if eating a fluffy cloud. The vanilla flavor is smooth, an undercurrent that balances out the sweetness. There’s a slight twinge from a distinct flavor as well, something you’ve never tasted and can’t quite put your finger on. The same way that coffee elevates the taste of chocolate, this special ingredient brings out the sweetness of the vanilla, balancing out the sugar of the frosting. Every mouthful is incredibly light and absolutely delectable, making each moment it graces your taste buds feel like an indulgent bite of heaven.

“So? How is it?” Bridget asks as your eyes swiftly open. Her anticipation lingers in the air, along with your awaited response.

But you barely hear her words, too focused on how the color of the frosting perfectly matches her delicate, roseate lips. They’re so gentle, yet lush, almost forming the most endearing of pouts.

Eyes darting from her eyes, to her lips, back up to her wide, doe eyes again, you throw caution to the wind and spring forward. Your hands move in front of you, supporting your weight as you lean in.

Your lips make contact with her velvety ones, which are even smoother than you imagined. A stolen kiss, lasting but a moment, yet enwrapped by the tender caress of your mouth, the purest of affections seeping in as you hold her lips between yours, then draw back for the briefest pause.

Eyes locked with her wide, expressive ones as you linger a mere inch away from her face, you respond to her earlier question.

“Delicious and incredibly sweet. Just like you.”

end x

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aklaustaleteller · 2 months ago

Text

Like A Barge At Sea

Since Klaus admitted to infidelity, the harrowing pain of losing her family, her happiness, and her love has Y/n clutched in its arms, crushing her in its tight grip for what felt like was going to be forever. But will Klaus be able to hold a certain grudge against her for long? And if he can, then should he have?

Warnings - Quite mean arguments, mentions of heartbreak, infidelity, killing and blood. Word Count - 4.4k

Now, once again, long time no see, everyone? I'm so sorry it took me a month to get back to you with this -- the second part to 'Said Yes To Heaven'! I can't even believe I'm writing this and I'm sure you can't believe your eyes either fjskbf. In case you haven't read the first part, I highly recommend that you do! Also, thank you to everyone who pressed me for a part two, without you, this fic would not have happened!! And finally, I really really hope you enjoy reading this!!

A week had passed since Y/n confronted Klaus about the infidelity, and he had said admitted to it as if he hadn't been the one in wrong.

She had desperately been wanting to move out, to get away from him but for the sake of their little girl, and her only, she just moved out of their shared bedroom and into one of rooms for the guests.

Klaus was home less and less, probably to avoid her but not absolutely absent because of his undeniable love for Hope. Y/n just wished that he’d have kept the same love for her as well.

But that didn't mean that whatever of a relationship that was left between them was just mean, petty taunts and narrow-eyed glares. Because even now, there were stolen glances, sneaky grazes of touch, one losing their identity in the other one's eyes until the latter one would blink hastily to disguise the sudden shine in their eyes and move on with their day without daring to steal a glance even just one more time.

And now, instead of the staring bringing a maroon glow upon their cheeks, it brought forth a wave of rage to coarse through their stiff bodies because how dare the other one look so longingly at them while clearly being red handed?

Right now, Y/n was sat in Hope's nursery, breastfeeding her in the middle of night when Klaus had come to wake her up about her hunger. Her gaze was set upon her daughter, whose eyes were merely open in even slits anymore.

Perhaps that was because Klaus hadn't left once Y/n had come into the nursery. He was sitting on the floor a little far from the rocking chair she was on, his arms around his knees as he hugged his legs close to his chest.

Y/n didn't have it in her to ask him to leave. Maybe because she was exhausted, or because she didn't quite trust her voice to not give out on her. Every sparing minute that she spent with him in her sight, she wished so badly that he hadn't gone on and messed everything up.

How could he had done it? How could the man, so paranoid regarding his family that he threatened his ex-girlfriend with her life to stay far away from his home, had gone on to bring infidelity into his relationship with the same woman? It was beyond Y/n's comprehensive limits, she feared.

Y/n hadn’t told anyone, in fear of the ‘one gasp and then, how did it end?’ that she’d receive and further on, have to answer. She wasn’t at that level of acceptance, yet.

With each glance that she spared at him, with her guards low, all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sob hysterically because he had stolen away her nights, her love, her perfect little family and her happiness from her. He had stolen himself, and everything else from her and she wasn't sure if she was coping so well with all of it.

She couldn't raise her gaze because she knew that he was already looking at her, with those green eyes swarming with something she refused to recognise as love. She had to begin taking in deep breaths because the mere thought of looking into his eyes was making her eyes sting.

And, once what felt like the millionth minute, passed in overrated comfortable silence, Y/n was sure that she heard a choked back sob escape Klaus. And that was enough to make the tear in her eyes to deceive her and fall upon the soft clothing on Hope's little frame.

Another tear fell then, and Y/n had to at the end, sniffle, and that made Klaus sprint out of the room.

Broken down in sobs, Y/n held herself together within a white-knuckled fist and put a fast asleep Hope back in her crib, pressing another kiss somewhere on her face before she too, hurriedly walked out of the room towards the guest room, losing herself throughout the entire way with shaking shoulders and held-within sobs that wreaked havoc inside her chest and held her throat with an iron-tight grip.

—

"Can we talk for a bit?" Y/n spoke monotonously, looking straight ahead instead of looking at Klaus, who looked as worn down as if he'd sparred with a dozen people.

She almost asked him about it, out of an old habit, but held her tongue.

"I'm not so su--"

"It's about Hope," Y/n cut him off, looking into his eyes for a split second before he broke the contact first.

He sat down on the sofa’s farthest end with a huff, looking at the ground.

"I don't want what's going on between us to affect Hope," she began, and that had Klaus raising his gaze with such accusatory eyes that Y/n wanted to scream at him for that itself.

"She's growing up too fast. I don't wish for either of us to miss out on her childhood, maybe her first words even," with a quivering voice, she finished, rubbing her sweaty palms on her jeans.

His jaw was clenched, and she wanted to scoff because of the attitude that held his frame so uptight.

"I'm well aware," Klaus began, his eyes holding distance in them. "I'm her father as well, you see? I don't need you teaching me parenting now."

Scoffing, Y/n shook her head. This was not the way she wanted this to go.

"It clearly seems like you do, since you're barely home," she said curtly, daring him to look her in the eyes and then pretend that he hadn't legitimately cheated on her.

Klaus got up at that. "I would be home more if it weren't for your looming presence!" He exclaimed, raking one hand through his hair before clutching it on the back of his head.

"My looming presence!" Y/n shouted, completely taken aback before hurt began to settle it. "You cheated on me, you bastard!"

"I'm not doing this tonight," Klaus mumbled before he disappeared into the master bedroom.

Eyes turned blacker than her worst nights and the golden rim of an eclipse shining through, Y/n clenched her fists to the extent that she almost wanted for her knuckles to rip open the skin stretching upon them. Brimming with a burning hate, she harshly wiped the tears off her cheeks.

"I hate you!" She screamed, breaking down into sobs when Hope's wailing tore apart the house and Klaus slammed the door shut after showing to Y/n the sight of Hope clung onto his chest as he lulled her.

"You're okay, little wolf," she heard him whisper. "Just a thunder, s' all," he cooed, and Y/n held her head tightly, crouching, wishing to rip her ears out or rip his throat out.

But most overwhelmingly, she felt guilt swallowing her contorted face. She'd gone to talk about saving Hope from the trauma of her parent's failed marriage, and then proceeded to produce a blood-curdling scream knowing the little one was sensitive to the smallest of sighs.

And then Klaus' hateful glare looking down upon her flashed through her mind and she raced out of the house before realising that there was no one she could run off to.

So, upon returning, she sat on the porch of their home, tears icy on her skin as she cried with a shaking body, eyes set on the open sky while everything inside of her begged for all of this horror to be taken back and for her intricately built family to be returned to her.

—

Klaus' eyes hurt, for the never-ending pain wouldn't stop seeping through the cracks in his eyes on the nights when all he wanted was to give in to peace by lying down in his lonely bed with his wife and their little wolf, once again.

And it feels unfair that he's the one losing his mind, the one who's been robbed of his entire life when she's the one who crumpled his heart in her fist by throwing an allegation of infidelity at him.

He hadn't cheated. And he knew that saying this to Y/n would end both of their miseries, but he couldn't quite bring himself to it. What would he say now, since he didn't deny her the very night she'd confronted him about it?

Still, he remembered the tiredness weighing down her eyes and tension twisting each one of her features in a stoned manner. So innocently, she'd asked him after taking a shuddering breath – "did you sleep with Aurora?"

The horror in her eyes had been evident when the love-sickness had drained down his whole posture and his eyes had transitioned from confusion to hurt to a cold, empty gaze in a matter of seconds.

He waited for her to apologise or to break out laughing, saying she was just joking, for a couple minutes. But when she kept on staring at him with wide eyes that held nothing but shock and betrayal in them, he'd swallowed the lump in his throat, accepting that that was just how it was going to be.

"Yes. Yes I did," he'd spat, hoping the anger lacing his tone would make her think. Think that of course he hadn't, how could she think of him in such a way? But she instead slapped him across the face with flared nostrils and tears streaking her cheeks and sped away.

He'd lost control that night and raced away from home as he transitioned into his wolf with one final leap into the forest.

He'd howled the loudest in a long, long time, that night. He'd felt it resonate through his chest and leak through the corners of his eyes as he'd moved through the forest with the wind, leaving behind traces of his tears.

But, upon returning, he realised that maybe he'd been a little too dramatic. Maybe, he'd just cried wolf. He'd showered and hoped that after dinner, they could sit and be civil about it all and work through his hurdle together.

But when he saw her hurting, the knife in his chest twisted deeper as he realised just how easily she'd believed it to be true.

Leaving it to rest for a couple days, Klaus kept on hoping that she'd see for herself what she'd been doing and come around to him. But she never did, and he felt himself fading away day by day.

The previous night, he'd been sitting by the window in the master bedroom, watching over her crumbling figure out on the porch and hating himself for having done this to her. And with resolution, he'd straightened his back and turned away, reminding himself that he wasn't the one with tainted hands.

And despite that, he'd gone over to check whether she'd fallen asleep or not, and then he’d carried her back to the room, laying her down beside Hope's crib while he went to sleep on the sofa in the corner of the room.

—

Y/n was limping.

In a flash Klaus was standing in front of her, holding onto her shoulders and looking down at her leg which seemed a little crooked.

“What happened?” Klaus asked, eyes set on the trail of blood that had seeped through her pants, staining it.

She shook off his hands then, turning to walk away and up the stairs. She could’ve sped up, but she also should’ve been healed by now considering the fact that she was a hybrid.

Taking advantage of the situation, Klaus sped in front of her, just a step above her on the staircase. He flinched when her eyes flashed golden, but due to reflex, he knew his eyes had flashed as well when he saw the reflection in her sombre eyes.

“C’mon, tell me,” he whispered, hoping that she’d drop the attitude and just answer him for once.

“I don’t know,” she began, and Klaus’ shoulders visibly relaxed. “I was running, then something came flying at me and hit me on the leg,” she shrugged, and Klaus could hear that she wasn’t breathing necessarily enough.

So he backed up a couple steps, and leaned on the railing of the staircase.

“But you should’ve healed right away,” Klaus pushed, the wheels in his head turning while a frown settled deep between his brows. “Unless…”

“It was a sneak attack,” Y/n finished for him, sighing.

“Were you turned when you were running?” Klaus asked, moving closer to her as anger began tightening his features and the muscles in his arms flexed under the thin shirt when he fisted his palms.

“Yes, Klaus.”

It felt strange, the way she said his name with no emotion lingering on it. But Klaus shook off the feeling, pushing it to the back of his head to dwell on it later in the night.

“So you must’ve caught a sniff!” Klaus exclaimed, hyped that they were getting somewhere. But then he deflated, “if it were someone you’ve met,” he trailed off, now biting his lip.

“I did, catch a sniff,” Y/n began, standing up straighter as ferocity came ablaze in her eyes.

Both of them stared at each other in silence, before a certain realisation dawned upon Klaus and he opened his mouth only for no words to come out.

“You’re right,” Y/n gritted her teeth, affirming Klaus’ unspoken conclusion. “I would’ve finished her off right there had you not… been on my mind,” Y/n stole her gaze from him then, looking down on the flooring from the sidelines of the staircase.

Shaking off some of his anger to focus on his wife, Klaus offered her his hand. “Come, you’ll need the whole night to heal.” But when she refused to acknowledge it, he exhaled frustratedly.

Still, when she took no action, Klaus picked her up like he had on the day they’d …said yes to heaven when saying yes to one another, and carried her to the bedroom at a normal pace, just to agitate further.

“Fuck you!” Y/n gritted out her last protest, hitting his chest one last time before he was lying her down on the bed and walking back out the door with a smile he wasn’t hiding well.

He turned in the doorway then, looking at her with raised eyebrows. “Don’t try to clean up yourself, I’ll be back in a moment,” he nodded at her one last time before he was speeding away and out of the house in a flash.

Y/n, who was left behind feeling nothing but the static silence inside of her, moved so that she was sitting closer to Hope’s crib.

She began thinking if, only for Hope, she should give Klaus another chance. But then, he hadn’t even asked for one.

Caressing Hope’s head, Y/n slipped her fingers into her hair. The strands were only inches long so far, but it almost felt like her hair had grown overnight. That made Y/n’s chest heavy, realising that even after trying so hard, she had missed out upon the subtle things of Hope’s childhood, already.

And, that was because she had been wallowing in her own misery the whole time.

She wanted nothing more than to put this blame on Klaus as well, but instead, Y/n brushed away her tears and lied down with Hope on top of her.

The little girl was sound-asleep, but still she managed to fist Y/n’s shirt and snuggle closer to her.

Y/n began to rub her back then, staring at the ceiling wondering what Klaus had gone out for. Maybe to confront Aurora for going too far, and crossing the line. Y/n felt herself shrink when she realised that the possibility of that was way too high for her liking.

She pondered as to why he hadn’t asked her for another chance. Why he hadn’t asked for her forgiveness or even shown in his actions that he felt guilty.

Had he really been that desperate to get rid of her?

A tear slipped past her eyes and into her ear, and Y/n felt her face contort as she tried her hardest to not break down.

Wondering how long he had felt that way about her, Y/n tilted her face on either side to wipe away the tears on her face on the pillow. She sniffled, and slowly and slowly, she felt herself crumple under all of her grief and anger, causing her to begin trembling.

So she put Hope back into her crib, and curled up on her side, facing away from her daughter as she broke down into shambles, all over again.

She felt pathetic everytime she lost control like this, it was getting embarrassing and exhausting. She curled into a smaller ball as her throat began to burn due to the sobs she was fighting to hold back.

Not confident whether she’d fallen asleep for a couple of seconds or through the night, Y/n lent up on her elbows to see it was dark outside.

Turning to see the clock, Y/n instead saw Klaus, sitting up against the headboard, already looking at her.

“What time is it?” She asked him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes after noticing that the clock had stopped again.

“It’s midnight,” he smiled and Y/n panicked, instantly getting off the bed in order to reach Hope.

“I fed her!” Klaus whisper-yelled before she could’ve picked the little one up, repeating himself when she looked at him frozen on the spot.

“I’ve fed her before, you don’t need to be so shocked,” Klaus spoked defensively, turning on the lamp on his bedside table.

Y/n sighed then, sitting back on the bed and shifting until she was also perched up against the headboard. They hadn’t been on the same bed in more than a month. Y/n began playing with her fingers, eyes set on her palms.

“Were you crying?” Klaus mumbled, intertwining his hands.

Her breath hitched, she’d forgotten about that. “Doesn’t matter,” she answered curtly.

“It does,” Klaus said. “To me, it does.”

Y/n scoffed at that, taking a quick glance at him before she looked away again, suddenly conscious about her bed-head and probably red-rimmed eyes that even felt a bit puffy.

“Shut it, Klaus.” Y/n shook her head. “You don’t need to small-talk me.”

“I’m not –” he cut himself off, sitting back with a huff. “I need to tell you something,” he began, his teeth clenched due to unease.

“What?” Y/n’s body went rigid, preparing herself for whatever blow he was about to send her way.

“I didn’t,” Klaus took a deep breath. “I didn’t sleep with her,” he exhaled sharply before going as still as a statue.

Y/n turned to look at him incredulously at first, before she opened her mouth to speak.

“What?” She almost shrieked, it being the most unbelievable thing she could’ve ever heard in the moment. “Come again?” She pressed, leaning towards him and looking at him as if he had added insult to her injury.

“I did not cheat on you,” Klaus repeated, looking at the wall ahead instead of looking at her.

“We can’t do this here,” Y/n said and the both of them sped to the living room’s sofa. Well, Y/n, as well as she could.

“Are you hearing yourself, Klaus?”

He didn’t say anything, causing her to get up on her injured leg and start pacing around.

“You are saying you didn’t cheat on me?”

Klaus nodded softly.

“So, you didn’t sleep with Aurora?”

Klaus looked up at that, holding her gaze as he said – “I killed her, actually. Tonight, that is,” he told her and Y/n’s face went pale.

“Wha - you did what?”

“I killed her, Y/n. Hurting you was the farthest I could let her go,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Should’ve done that the day she showed up the second time, now that I think about it.”

“So – so why didn’t you deny me then? When I asked you about it?” Y/n came to sit beside him, still on the farthest end of the sofa, due to pain shooting through her leg again.

“Why do you think, Y/n?” Now, he was losing patience. “I’m your husband and you chose to trust some clearly manipulative-vampire over me!” He shouted as lightly as he could, getting up.

But he stood still, unlike Y/n who’d been pacing around as if she’d been losing it.

“So… you said yes out of spite?”

“Of course, I did!” He insisted. “And I was thinking that someday you’ll come around and see for yourself but you never did!”

Y/n’s jaw clicked. “For so many days, you’ve put the both of us through misery because of this?” Y/n began, getting angrier despite seeing clearly what he was trying to show her.

“This is not about that! This is about the fact that you don’t have enough trust in me to know that not once in my immortal life would I ever deceive you!” Klaus felt like ranting, and he’d begun pulling on his hair.

“I was insecure!” Y/n shouted, tears brimming her eyes. “I had given birth days before and some chick comes and tells me ‘she’d have married you as well had she known previously how good you were in bed’!” Her breath caught in her throat. “You couldn’t have expected me to come home and coddle you then!”

Klaus’ eyes were wide, and he was wondering if there was a way someone could kill a person twice.

“You could’ve just told me that you did not and neither of us would’ve gone through this harrowing pain!”

Tears were falling down like raindrops of a downpour on her cheeks, so Klaus took the final steps to get close enough to her on order to cup her face.

He brushed away her tears with his calloused thumbs, hating the grief she held in her eyes still. Perhaps, he should’ve told her earlier.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, pulling her into him as he held her to prevent her from breaking down into pieces. “We’ve got each other, haven’t we? We can come out of this together,” he said, holding her so still that he’d stopped breathing for a second.

Hiccups and sobs were flowing out of her endlessly, until only her sniffles were the sounds in the otherwise silent home.

“I can’t tell if I’m happy that you didn’t cheat on me, or - or,” she took a quick breath, hating how it was hardly reaching her lungs. “Or mad that you didn’t tell me sooner,” she spoke, finally wrapping her arms around him and clutching onto his shirt tightly.

“I just hope you’ll trust me a little more after this,” Klaus whispered and felt her nodding vigorously against his shoulder. His heart picked up upon the realisation that he had her enclosed in his arms again.

A chuckle rippled through his chest and he pulled her back, some of her hair strands still sticking onto him. He tucked them back, matting down her hair before he pressed a kiss on her forehead.

When he backed away, Y/n slipped her arms around his neck before reaching for his mouth that was spread in a wide grin.

“I hate you so much,” she laughed, pressing her forehead against his with her eyes closed, while Klaus gazed directly at her and pressed another quick kiss to her mouth.

“Like a barge at sea, in the storm I stay clear,” he sing-song’ed, attacking her face with multiple kisses when she cringed away.

“Did you see how much Hope’s hair has grown?” Y/n asked him excitedly, eyes wide as saucers as she went back to sit down on the sofa.

“I did! She’s going to have your brunette hair,” he pouted, putting one of his arms around her shoulder and pulling her into his side.

She snuggled against his chest instinctively, albeit curling up into him while he rubbed his hands up and down her shoulder.

“You were so vile the day my shout made her cry,” Y/n spoke quietly, her chest tightening and her eyes moistening again.

“I’m so sorry about that, love,” he sighed. “I hadn’t meant that. It’d just stung a bit that you’d think of me as a …bad father.”

“I hadn’t meant it in that way,” Y/n said, looking up at him. “You know I’d not want anyone else as a father for her,” she shrugged, a smile playing on her lips.

“Such a good one you are that I might be inclined to think you should have another one to look after, a couple years from now, that is” she laughed, winking at him before breaking into a bigger laugh.

“Shouldn’t have proposed the idea right now if you didn’t want one until another few years!” He whined jokingly, kissing her temple with some extra pressure.

The laughter died down then, and the both of them sat in complete silence.

“You really were like a barge at sea, though,” she mumbled. “Was I the storm?”

“Hm, I guess?” He said, and giggled when she hit him on the chest.

Y/n stared into the distance for a while, glad that the storm was over and that she had her life back. Even the thought of the utter misery she’d gone through, thinking she’d never have her family back again, made her shudder.

“I love you,” Klaus whispered and Y/n looked up at him with a smile, squeezing his hand. “And, I’m sorry.”

“Forever and always, Klaus” she said, lying back down on his chest. “And I’m sorry too,” she went to press a kiss to his neck, but he moved to get off the sofa.

“C’mon!” She protested, since she’d begun to think of catching up on some much needed sleep.

“Alright, you need to take a bath to clean up whatever wound you’ve got going on,” Klaus proposed seriously, picking her up bridal style.

Y/n gasped then. “Do I smell?” She questioned him, mouth still open ajar.

“No you don’t!” He reassured her before a coy smile stretched across his mouth. “But I do need you to smell a bit more like you have mate,” he said with a grin, before pointing at himself upon putting her back down, now in the bathroom.

“Oh, I really hate you,” Y/n mumbled bashfully, pretending to look away while Klaus began to get rid of his clothes.

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jarofstyles · 10 months ago

Note

21. “Go and lock the door for me. I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.”

meanH would kill this.

mwah 😚 to you and your stories

FUCK YES LETS DO IT!!!!

Patreon

Warnings- Mean Dom!H... Fratrry

------

Y/N knew it was a bad idea to go back up to his room. He had been badgering her at each party for a repeat of their sex a month back, and for 3 weekends in a row he was making it his personal mission to get her to repeat the process.

It fueled her ego to know that she was that good, that he wasted his time at the parties to follow her around and tempt her. A game of cat and mouse, a sensual back and forth. He'd cornered her in the hallway just 4 days ago as she was leaving the lecture hall, pulling them into an alcove and teased her about her leggings. They were flared and tight, no secret to her that they flattered her well. Secretly, she knew she'd pass him in the hallway and wanted him to look.

Her reservations were simply because he was a bit of a dick. Cocky and arrogant and all the things she shouldn't like, but it sent heat between her thighs when he gripped her chin and kissed her hard and deep, reminiscent of the kiss he'd given her in the dingy bathroom while she sat on the countertop with his prick pounding into her, the music muffling her whimpers.

Of course she wanted a repeat. No one had made her orgasm, not like that. For as cocky as he was, he had a right to be. Fucking her with that hat sitting backwards on his head and that pretentious old rock shirt, getting down on his knees mid fuck to taste her- that had thrown her for a loop. He was mean, which worked out in her favor considering she liked it. His hand around her throat and the filth that left his mouth. He'd made her see stars not once, but twice. Shaky knees as she left, despite his furrowed brow asking her to stay.

She didn't obviously, and he'd been chasing her since. It must mean he held similar sentiments to her, found her to be extremely compatible- to the point of scaring off other men. That had done it for her tonight. What had been meant to be a fight about him following her around had turned into her sat in his lap with his stupid fucking hat knocked off on the ground and her hands in his hair, her bandage dress pulled up to her hips as she rocked on his lap. He tasted like mint and cheap beer, but she didn't mind when he kissed her like he couldn't breathe without her tongue in his mouth.

Breaking apart from her, he held the back of her neck as he pulled her to look at his face. "You want this?" He murmured, slipping his thumb under her lip to clean up her smudged lipstick. "Want me to fuck you like the pretty slut you are?"

Y/N knew she was pathetic, nodding wildly as she tried to reconnect their lips. He wasn't done yet, though. "Good. Made it to my room this time, and you're not gonna run off on me after we finish once. Been Makin' me chase you around because you've got some golden pussy and it's been making me crazy. One time isn't going to be enough for me." He warned, making her melt. His voice had an edge of threat to it that only made her hotter, her clit swollen as she still rubbed up against his jeans. "You sure you're okay with this?" His tone softened a bit as he looked at her face. Despite being a dickhead he'd cared a lot about consent both times they'd fucked around.

"Yes- Yes, I really want it. Please." In the morning she was going to regret being so needy, so whiny. Giving him more fuel to feed his ego. But right now, she craved what only he seemed capable of giving her.

His swollen lips curled up in a smirk, humming in his throat. “Go and lock the door for me. I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.” He sent her off, watching her on wobbly legs to flick the lock on his door. Peeling off his jeans, he kicked them to the side and stood expectantly as she made her way back to him. "There we are. Looks like you've got enough thought in that pretty little head to follow instructions." His hand came up and gripped her cheeks, making her lips pout out before dipping his head down to rest his forehead against hers. "Lets hope you keep that up. Know you get a bit dumb when you cum." He placed a sloppy kiss to her pouted lips before releasing her face.

She never imagined anyone talking to her this way would make her that horny, that melty and soft, wanting to get on her knees and listen him, but it did. He knew how to coax her, this near stranger. He pulled the dress off of her form, cursing under his breath as he pushed her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her. "Insane body, y'know that? Fucking mental." Her breasts were bare, as they usually were in outfits like this. His fingers ran down the valley of her chest, past her belly button and the waistband of her stupid thong. "Did you know you were going to give into me tonight? Couldn't handle a vibrator one more time?" He clicked his tongue. "Needed to be fucked until you're a begging mess? Didn't even do half of what I wanted t'do to you last time." His fingers tugged on the flimsy panties, tugging them down her legs. She let him. All she could do was nod.

It was like her mouth and brain weren't connected with him. All she wanted to do was say yes, please, more.

"Dunno why you fought me so hard when you know how good we feel together... But you're not going to be able to hobble out of here when m'done with you. So..." He grabbed her phone and placed it in her hand. "Let your friends know you're with me, you're safe, you've got a ride home tomorrow. Or not." His lips kissed sloppily over her breasts before he licked the right nipple. "Maybe you'll come to your senses and stay the weekend, let me do all the filthy things you want. Deprived, needy whore like you would probably love that."

She typed with shaking fingers, pausing when he sucked her nipple into his hot, wet mouth- only for him to pull back with his teeth grazing the swollen bud. "Not dumb for me already, baby..." He clicked his tongue in faux disappointment. "S'pathetic. Type out the message while I play with your pretty tits, and then I'll give you what you want."

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #frat harry styles #frat harry #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles au

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mrsokkotsu · 15 days ago

Text

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𓈒 ˖ ࣪

boothill x f!reader. sfw — hurt comfort. established relationship ﾉ reader is an age regressor ﾉ reader has a meltdown over being poked fun at by others :c ﾉ reader is shown to self harm through scratching 'n digging her nails into her skin . . ﾉ da word 'daddy' is used tew refer tew boothill ﾉ sugar, lil' love, darlin', princess, good girl 'n lil' missy as petnames ❤︎ ﾉ dis piece is extremely self — indulgent . . please b kind to mi . . ૮꒰⑅ ˊ ᵔ ˋ ⑅ ꒱ა ﾉ re-upload from a previous blog

a little hiccup, a little whimper, a sniffle, and then a sob, a wail, a scream.

you curl in on yourself, scrunching up into a ball and digging your nails into the flesh of your thighs, the fabric of your skirt bunching up in your fists. tears cascade down your cheeks in streams, leaving wet stains that seep into the cotton of your shirt, the collar of which is quickly coated with the saliva that dribbles down the corners of your mouth. the crescent moons your nails leave behind bloom pink on the expanse of your thighs, throbbing with dull pain. it only makes you cry harder.

you've hidden yourself away in the farthest corner from boothill, a little crevice that's barely lit and surrounded by thick hedges. the only way one could reach it is from the narrow passageway from the east, and you'd made sure to cover the entrance with an array of flowers that have been plucked and strewn across the entrance.

you had always liked hiding away in such little nooks, tucked away between the tallest plants and beneath the largest branches, in a world of your own, far from the judgement and scorn of others. it's the only place where you feel safe, at home. a small pocket of comfort in the chaos that is reality. a haven from the harsh world that exists beyond the walls of your sanctuary.

but, even that is taken away from you now, when the sound of footsteps crunching on dry leaves and the heavy panting of a machine draws near.

"sugar? are you there?" the familiar lilt of his voice is muffled through the foliage, and you choke on a sob when the branches rustle, the flowers fall and a figure parts the shrubbery. he's tall enough that the top of his head grazes the treeline. "i know ye'r there, sugar. let's go back inside, yeah?"

you shake your head furiously, press your hands to your ears to block him out. but boothill knows better than to let that stop him, crouching down and crawling on his knees. the grass stains the material of his trousers green, and you feel a pang of guilt strike through the cloud of despair that hangs over your head.

"i don't wanna!" you wail, voice cracking and hiccuping as you rock yourself back and forth, the heel of your palm pressing against the hollow of your throat. "please don't make me."

"don't make ye'rself sick, sugar. come 'ere." boothill holds his arms out and beckons you with a gentle wave, "ya know ye'r safe with me, don't cha?"

he keeps his distance from you, careful not to get too close. you're a fragile thing, he thinks, a flower whose petals bruise easily. and boothill has the utmost care for your delicate self, treats you with the gentleness and tenderness and softness that the world has never shown him, for the sake of preserving the fleeting purity and sweetness that lies within you.

he wouldn't dare do anything that may mar your beautiful soul. not for all the stars in the sky.

"h-hm," you sniffle, rubbing your runny nose with the back of your hand, eyes swollen and red, cheeks blotchy, lips pursed. "h-hhmpf!" you whine again, reaching out and making grabby hands at boothill, the tears that trickle down the slope of your cheekbones glistening like tiny droplets of honey. "m-my booh-h-hill.. mh— my dadd— d-daddy…"

you bawl, sobbing incoherently as you throw yourself forward and cling to him, the sudden impact causing you to bump your head against the steel of his chest, the scramble to hug him so frantic that your knees are scraped and grazed, the skin split from a collision with a stray pebble.

the wounds sting, but you hardly feel it, too caught up in your own distress.

"daddyyyyy—" you cry out, and boothill coos softly, stroking the crown of your head, careful not to let his metal joints tangle themselves within the locks of your hair. "da-ddy-y, make it stop! m-make the b-b-bad thoughts g-go away-y, plea-ase."

your words are choppy, punctuated with small yelps and gasps, and boothill holds you close, cradling your head to his chest, his touch so tender and full of love that it threatens to rip open your heart. the warmth of his chassis is a comforting presence, a grounding force that soothes the tempestuous waves that ebb and crash against your mind, slowly bringing you down from the height of your distress.

the tears have finally stopped flowing, and your cries have reduced to little hiccups. the sniffles remain, along with a snotty nose. boothill doesn't seem to mind. "what's makin' ya upset, lil’ love?"

"mm-h-hhm," you hum, nuzzling against him and rubbing your cheek against the cool material of his chest, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his jacket.

boothill brushes the sticky hairs matted to your forehead away, tucking them behind your ear. "what's happenin' up here, hm?" he presses a chaste kiss to your temple, his lips a welcome balm on the inflamed skin. "talk ta' me, sugar. ya know daddy'll listen."

you chew on the inside of your cheek, worrying the skin raw as you muster the courage to speak. it's an arduous task, with how the doubts and worries and anxieties swarm the forefront of your mind, each one a little buzzard ready to pick and peck at you. "w-why am— why a-arent i n-norma-al?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, a shiver running down the length of your spine. you're terrified, and the feeling only grows the longer boothill remains silent. "every-one says-s tha-at i'm weird a-and-d annoying and-and, i'm c-childish and dumb, a-and— and-!" you inhale sharply, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. "d— hm— d-dadd-y a-am i b-broken?"

you whisper the last part, a mere ghost of a breath, but boothill hears it nonetheless, and the gears that serve as his heart stutter and grind to a halt, a sharp pang of something he'd never felt before piercing right through his core. "what? princess, where on earth'd ye'r mind go comin' up with somethin' like that?"

he asks you, his voice laced with the most minute of trepidation. "jus' cause some folks can't see how amazing ya are don't mean ya ain't normal, sugar. it just means they're too stupid t' recognise a real star when they see one."

he says it so matter-of-factly, as if he's stating the most obvious thing in the world. "b-but i'm not normal!"

you hiccup once more, "i don't think like everyone else! i'm little and i-i need to be looked after and-d—" your words are cut off by the clog of your throat, the droplets you thought had already dried spilling down your cheeks anew. "i don't act like an adult!" you sniffle. "i-i don't wanna be an a-adult. i want to b-be little! b-but but everyone a-always makes f-fun of me-e for it-t!"

"and i hate it-t! i j-just want-t to be me-e! but i can't-t, no-ot if it means-s people will a-always b-be mean to me!"

you've begun to dig your nails at yourself again, and boothill catches you, gently prying your hands away from your wrists and holding onto them.

"hey now, darlin'— no no. none a' that, yeah?" he takes one of your hands in his, brings it to his lips and kisses each finger, the tips stained the faintest shade of scarlet.

"no hurtin' yourself, ya hear me?" he whispers, pressing his lips to the palm of your hand and giving it another kiss. "daddy loves this little body, every part a' it. even the parts ye'r not so fond of. and it ain't healthy t' hurt what daddy loves, alright?"

he lifts his other hand and places it atop your head, caresses the back of it and runs his thumb back and forth.

"sugar, look at me, mhm?" he waits a moment, and then two, three. a fourth, a fifth. he's patient, always has been when it comes to you. eventually, you give him a tiny nod, the slightest of movement, and peer up at him through dewy lashes, doe eyes shining with a vulnerability and fragility boothill can only hope to protect.

"there we are," he breathes out, "jus' perfect. thank ya f' trustin' me, little one." boothill's voice is quiet, a low murmur, and it wraps around you like a warm embrace. "listen closely t' what daddy's gotta say, a'right?"

"there ain't nothin' wrong with ya, sweetpea. and don't cha dare think that there is." he wags a finger in front of your face, and you watch it curiously. "ya like bein' little and daddy likes lookin' after ya, and there ain't nothin' bad 'bout that. ya ain't broken. no sir, no ma'am." he shakes his head, "ye'r a precious lil' girl, and that's the truth."

"now, if anyone has a problem with the way ya are, send em' my way. daddy'll have a lil' chat with 'em." he flashes you a toothy grin, "we'll set 'em straight, sugar." boothill gives you a playful wink, and the corners of your lips twitch up into a timid smile. "jus' promise me ye'r gonna stick it out, hm? no more runnin' away. daddy can't go chasin' ya all the time."

he taps your nose, the light pressure tickling you. "we got a deal?" he extends his pinkie to you, and you hook yours with his, giggling softly when boothill gives the digits a firm shake. "tha's a good girl. daddy's real proud of ya." he plants a kiss atop your forehead, and you preen under the praise, the weight in your heart lifted by a huge fraction.

"now, what d'ya say we head back in and get those knees cleaned up, yeah? the sun's already settin' 'nd we can't have ya fallin' asleep before dinner." he gives you a stern look, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, betraying the mock-sternness of his expression. "can we?" he chuckles. "ya know how cranky ya get when ya don't get yer fill a' dessert."

your cyborg lover hoists himself up and removes his hat, placing it atop your head. the brim falls over your eyes, and boothill can't help the adoring laugh that escapes him, lifting the edge up with his finger and giving you a smile so sweet, so pure, so full of love that it's almost sickeningly saccharine.

"up, up we get." boothill pats the seat of his pants, bending down and patting his knee. "hop on, sugar." he gives his knee a quick slap. "ye'r not walkin' back, not when those little legs a' yers are so shaky." he gives you a look that brooks no argument, and you comply, crawling over to him and throwing your arms around his neck. boothill stands upright, taking a moment to gather his bearings before he lifts you up and places you on his side, carrying you out from your hideaway. the path back is dimly lit, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, the faint scent of his cologne wafting past your nose.

"there we go, all snug an' safe.. how 'bout i take ye'r mind off a' things with a lil' singin' on our way back, hm?" he coos. "i heard a new one on the radio the other day." boothill bounces you on his hip, your happy noises stifled against his skin. "how does that sound, lil' missy?"

112 notes · View notes

allywthsr · 1 year ago

Text

FOLLOW THE WHITE RABBIT | (l.norris)

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

wordcount: 5.4k words

pairing: landonorris x singer!femreader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

” What are five things you can see?“

You lift your head from your knees and looked around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Good, three things you can hear?“

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

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

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

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

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

”And what is one thing you can taste?“

You chuckled, ”You.“

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

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

”Hold it.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”But she did!“

”Well, I know that now.“

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

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

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

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

”But how did she end up in Hungary?“

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

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

”What? Y/N, no, you’re delusional.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”What do you mean?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Lando, why are you crying?“

You stood up and walked to hug him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”I should go, my Uber is here.“

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

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

”I‘m sorry Y/N. I need you.“

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

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

”I love you, Lando, keep me updated.“

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

”Always.“

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

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

f1gossip

22,827 likes

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

two days later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

f1gossip

25.729 likes

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

y/nusername added to their story!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baby, that I'm wanting, wanting you

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

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

And I lose my mind tonight over you

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

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

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

Follow the white rabbit to see the truth

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

And my patience is now setting like the sun

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

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

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

And by now, I know the damage has been done

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

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

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

Baby, that I'm wanting, wanting you

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

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

Follow the white rabbit to see the truth

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

———————————————————————————

taglist: @mrsmaybank13

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #madison beer #singer!reader #fake tweets #fake texts

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ereardon · 1 month ago

Text

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Nineteen

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Y/N waits at home for Jake; Y/N and Bob have a heart-to-heart

WC: 1.4K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

“Jake!”

Your voice rang out in the apartment but you knew the second you walked through the door that it was empty.

“Ducky.” Bob stood in the doorway.

“Leave.” Your voice was harsh. “Now.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Just go.”

He opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it and turned slowly, pulling the door shut behind him.

You sat down on the couch, curled into a ball and waited. And waited. Until eventually, you fell asleep, only awaking hours later when the sun peered through the sheer curtains and you scrambled to your feet the best you could, pacing around the apartment, but Jake was nowhere to be found.

His cell phone went to voicemail, time and time again. Breakfast came and went, and then lunch. On Sundays, the two of you typically went out for lunch and then strolled leisurely through the nearby park before going to the grocery store. But Jake didn’t return for lunch or for your park date. Even dinner came and went, with no word from Jake.

Phoenix called around seven. “Have you seen him?”

“No.” You were pacing on the carpet. “I’m getting worried. It’s been almost a full day.”

“I’ll call Bradshaw,” she said. “See if he knows anything.”

“Let me know?”

“Of course.” She paused. Then, “He’ll show up.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

The carpet in the living room was practically worn down to the tread from your constant back and forth, an ache developing in your lower back but that didn’t stop you from sitting down and worrying.

When the door opened, you shot up in bed, the hem of Jake’s shirt riding up across your thighs where you had fallen asleep in his bed. Light spilled in from the hallway, illuminating Jake from behind. From just the curvature of his shoulders you knew.

“Jake,” you murmured, scooting up toward the pillows and headboard, “where the fuck were you? I was going crazy.”

“I couldn’t do it, Y/N,” he said, still standing in the doorframe.

“Are you drunk?”

“I don’t know. I was, I think. I am?”

“Come here.” You curled your feet under you and patted the bed. He hesitated. “Please,” you begged. Finally, Jake stepped into the room, standing at the edge of the bed. You reached out, holding his hands.

“It was my fault,” he whispered. There was pain laced in every letter. The way he wouldn’t look up at you.

“It wasn’t your fault. You did what you could. That’s all anyone could ask for.”

“I could have saved her,” he said, louder this time. “I should have.” There was a choke. Then, “Her son has no mother because of me.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, Jake’s hands pulling back but instead you tugged them forward, placing them on your bump. He looked up, green eyes locked on yours, as you held his hands, tight, to your stomach. “You’re right here,” you said softly. “I’m right here. Everything else is in the past, alright? You can’t hate yourself forever for something you didn’t mean to do. You have to move on, let yourself live. Because this baby? She needs her daddy. And you can’t be there for her if your mind is always going to be stuck in the past.”

He shook his head, silent.

“Jake,” you whispered. “We need you.”

You stood up, wrapping your arms around Jake, feeling the ragged momentum of his breath, the way he gripped you so tight you felt like a balloon about to pop.

And in that moment, you hoped he realized how far he had come.

***

You ignored Bob’s calls for three days. Finally, he showed up to the library in his flight suit, hair sweaty and clinging to his temples. Two of the moms with their children in the kids playing corner gave him a not-too-subtle up and down glance.

“Ducky, can you talk?”

“Not right now,” you whispered, bending down and emerging at the desk a moment later with a stack of books. “I’m working.”

“Those are way too heavy for you,” he responded quietly, rounding the desk and grabbing them from your arms. “Why are you still lifting things? Someone else should be doing that.”

“It’s my job, Bobby,” you replied. “Besides, why do you care?”

He frowned. “You’re my sister. What kind of question is that?”

A kick rippled through your side and you leaned against the desk edge, taking a deep breath. Bob’s face creased in worry. He reached out but you held out a hand, stopping him. “Meet me outside in thirty,” you said softly. “That’s my lunch break.”

He nodded eagerly. “I’ll bring sandwiches.”

“Tuna, extra pickles.”

Forty minutes later, the two of you were sitting on a bench outside the library overlooking the ocean. Bob waited until you were halfway done with your sandwich before he spoke.

“I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have,” you replied. “You also need to not hate him. It wasn’t his fault.”

“Except it was.”

You turned, eyes dark. “Are you telling me you’ve never made a mistake up there? You’ve never fucked up or waited a second too long or hesitated? Jake is human. He’s a real person, not a machine. You can’t expect perfection. People fuck up. Example A.” You waved your hand in his direction. “Right now you’re fucking up.”

“She was my partner, Y/N. She was my best friend. And I loved her. How am I supposed to just get over that?”

“You lose people, Bobby. Sometimes they’re like dad and they walk away. And sometimes they’re shot out of the sky. But in the end you’re always going to lose someone, it’s just a matter of time.” You shook your head. “Stop spending your life hating Jake and pushing people away when it’s just making sure that you’re going to lose them a hell of a lot sooner than you want to.”

“Are you saying that if it came down to it, you’d choose him over me?”

You frowned. “Why would it ever have to come down to that?”

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think he loves you,” Bob said and your jaw dropped. His voice was raspy, like there were tears building in the back of his throat. “And there’s a part of me that knows he’s not a bad guy. There’s a part of me who knows he’s doing right by you and the baby. But I still can’t wrap my head around letting someone who hurt the person I cared for almost as much as you turn around and hurt you, the person I care about more than anything.”

“What makes you think he’s going to hurt me?” you asked.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

You slipped your hand into his. “Then trust me when I say I can take care of myself. Whether or not Jake Seresin loves me will not change how I raise this baby. And it will not change the fact that you’re my brother and you’re a part of my life. Understood?”

His lip curled up on one side. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Now you have to do me a favor. Since you’re my big brother and you owe me one.”

“What is it?”

“Come to dinner tonight.”

“Done.”

“And apologize.”

“Ducky, I—”

“You apologize, Bobby, or else I’m telling everyone what you did on Space Mountain.”

His eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

“I’m not a liar,” you replied. “I’m obligated to tell the truth.”

“You’re not under oath to spill my deepest, darkest secrets.”

“They are when it’s the fact that you shit your pants at age twenty.”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, voice rising an octave. “OK, OK, I’ll apologize. Can we never speak of this again?”

“Deal.”

“And it was the fish tacos,” he muttered under his breath. “From the taco cart.”

“Yeah, sure it was.”

He groaned. “This is the last time I stick my neck out for you.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Now we both know that’s a lie.”

Bob leaned over and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloydssunnies @withahappyrefrain @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @xomrsalliej4787xo @xomrsalliej4787xo @myfaveficrecs @spinning-away

@gigisimsonmars @shanimallina87 @mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @na-ta-sh-aa @rosiahills22 @sometimesanalice @seresinslady @seresinsweetie @seresinhangmanjake @mrsjobarnes @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @palepeanutponyshoe

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naturesapphic · 6 months ago

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can you do little reader mommy billie

Where r can't seem to drop for a while.

but she gets in an argument with billie family and it makes her drop

Last straw

Mommy!billie eilish x little!fem!reader

Warnings: age regression, hurt/comfort, arguing

“I just don’t see why you are always clingy towards Billie! She’s almost done with the album and you constantly have to be near her! It’s messing her up!” Finneas argued with you. Billie left to go to a interview and finneas asked why you have been attached to Billie for a few days now and this arguement sparked.

“I really don’t see how that’s any of your business fin…” you say quietly as you look down embarrassedly. “It is my business when you are distracting Billie and possibly mess up her album we’ve been working so hard on!” Finneas shouts and you whimper as you curl up into a ball and start shaking. Finneas frowns and curses himself as he realized what he just did.

“Shit shit shit…” he scrambled around the room trying to find his phone so he could call his sister. He found his phone and immediately called Billie. “Hey.” Billie said through the phone and he freaked out telling her what had just happened. Billie felt her blood boil at her brother but pushed those feelings aside and told him that she would be there as soon as she could.

Twenty minutes later Billie came barging into the studio and found you still on the floor curled into a ball whimpering. “Oh babygirl…it’s okay I’m right here…” she said as she drops to her knees and tried to gently pull your hands away from your face. “There’s my pretty baby…” she said as she gives you a reassuring smile. Fin just stands there awkwardly and Billie moves her head to the door to signal that he needs to get out and he did.

“It’s okay…mommy’s got you precious one…” billie said softly next to your ear as she picks you up and sits you on her lap facing her. You sniffle and look up at her with a sad expression which causes her heart to break. “Fin s-said I too clingy…” you mumbled out but she heard you and cooed at you. “I know baby. What he said wasn’t true and I will talk to him about that later but right now I just want to focus on you.” She said with a smile.

You nodded and snuggled into her more but tense up. “Hey what’s wrong honey…?” Billie questioned you and you snap out of it. “I-im sorry…I don’t know what im doing…you don’t have time to be my caregiver right now im so sorry billie..” you sputtered out and went to get off of her but her hands went around your waist and made you sit back down on her lap. “Hey. Don’t ever apologize for being in your headspace. You know I love when I can take care of you. You never ever bother me okay? I absolutely love taking care of you, it keeps me grounded and it distracts me from my work.” She explains and you nod in understanding.

“So if you want to drop into your headspace you absolutely can princess, I know you haven’t for a while.” She said and you felt yourself slowly start to slip into your headspace again. You nod and stuff your face into her breast to which she giggles at. She knows how much you love her boobs so she doesn’t mind when you do this, not one bit. She holds you in her arms and starts rocking you back and forth to sleep. She’s definitely beating Finneas ass after this.

A/n: thank you for the request anon and I hope you enjoy it and I hope everyone else did too. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! :)

#mommy!billie eilish #mommy!billie eilish x little!reader #mommy!billie eilish x reader #caregiver!billie eilish #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #billie elish icons #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish

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prncssie · 7 months ago

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You’re tired of hobie always taking the lead during sex and you decide to try and be the dominant one for a change. (You handcuff him to the bed-). Hobie goes with it knowing you can’t fully satisfy yourself without he’s help. It’s not your fault you don’t know where your sweet spots are 🥺. That’s ok Hobie is there to take care of you…that if you let him go of course and he’ll have you under him cumming in seconds where you belong. 👀👀😀

heyyyy . . . little short blurb for you and your request :D thanks nonnie. love youuu ; mdni black fem reader 896 words

“what’s wrong, petal?”

hobie’s voice is nothing but mocking beneath you. even with your eyes squeezed shut, you can hear the smirk in his voice and imagine the teasing eyes he’s probably giving you behind the darkness of your closed eyelids.

hobie was supposed to be the one struggling, tonight. he agreed to be at your mercy, allowing you to take control for the night. he didn’t even complain when you pulled out the handcuffs, rattling excitedly in your hands earlier that night.

instead, things went the other direction. at first, you started off a little shaky, struggling to get past the first initial push. you had expected that after swallowing the length of his shaft in your sopping cunt, the night would progress and you’d both be spiralling into pleasurable oblivion.

what ended up happening is you trying, pleading with your body to feel anything good but it just isn’t happening. you’ve bounced, you’ve rode, you’ve tilted your hips in so many directions but nothing. you haven’t even come within an inch of an orgasm and you’re beginning to get frustrated and worst of all, hobie can tell.

“are you having problems?” he chuckles, cuffs jingling in the little hook in the wall — which was installed recently and inspired your idea to restrict him.

you shake your pretty little head and slam your hips down again. a small pant falls out your plump lips. it feels good, of course it feels good, just not good enough. “n – no. i’m fine, ‘bie.”

you have your hands planted firmly on his chest, rocking back and forth with your hair falling around your shoulders. your hair, twisted within the past few days, has begun to get frizzy and shrink even further than it already had. the tiny baby hairs stick to your skin, sheen with a thin layer of sweat.

you’ve been at this for a while.

“ya’ sure? because if you can’t do it, it’s okay.”

you lift your head with a disgruntled sigh and stare down at him the best with can. “shut up. you’re distracting.” you’re seated now, unmoving and chest rising with each breath. you lick your lips and brush the stray strands ticking your face off your skin.

he shrugs with an arrogant grin and curls his lips in, displaying his agreement to be silent. he still watches you struggle, holding back his coes of endearment at your attempts.

your poor cunt must be used and sensitive now, being put through so much but seeing no end. what a needy, suffering princess you are. you need his help and all you have to do is ask for it.

you’re too stubborn, though. it take a few seconds of rest for you to begin again, this time leaning back and flattening your hands against the bed. your hips rise and fall with such passion, edging your nerves with satisfaction that only fuels the insatiable lust farther. just like before, you stop with an annoyed grunt, balling up the sheets in your fists.

“y’know, if you let me out, i could fix all of this, darlin’.” he offers again, arms otherwise laying lax above him in the metal restraints clicked loosely around his wrists.

his voice is starting to get annoying in your head. his suggestions, paired with the nonstop throbbing of your pussy that you can do nothing about, is ruining your mood and you’re just about ready to get off and call it a night. “hobart.”

“i’m just saying, treacle. maybe this position doesn’t feel good for you and there’s nothing wrong with that. why don’t you just let me do it and we can try again tomorrow.” he can’t do much else but talk beneath you and hope you listen to his advice. “i promise. you know i will but i want to help you out.”

hobie knows you’re considering it when you look him in his hazel eyes, reflecting the yellow light from the bedside lamp. he’s delighted to see your arm reach across his vision and to the nightstand.

he doesn’t turn his head to watch you pick up the little silver key in fear that he’s seen too excited and you’d change your mind.

you take the key and insert it into the little slot, hesitantly turning it until the cuffs click in a certain freedom. a part of you is upset that you’ve given in after some hardships but you don’t focus on it too long, desire taking reigns of your mind.

hobie’s hands find your waist faster than you can comprehend. they send burning need along your skin and plague you in a new wave of lust. your cunt pulsates even more than it already is upon his direct contact with your skin.

he sits up, massaging your waist under the pads of his fingers. they slowly brush across your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “silly girl, did all that just to set me free because you can’t make yourself cum without me.”

“maybe your dick is just broken,” you challenge back, looping your hands around his neck.

you eat your words when hobie lift your body, drawing his cock back and dropping you back down, wordlessly. it’s humiliating the way you gasp as soon as hobie does it, nudging his tip deep within your walls.

“mm, definitely not broken. you just need me. that’s so cute.”

#ִ✮🕷✮⋆˙ 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓷 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 #hobie x black!reader #hobie smut #hobie brown #x black fem reader #astv hobie #x black reader #x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #atsv hobie smut

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ttulipwritezz · 8 months ago

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King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

Chapter 1 - Stranger that I know.

Ootp! Remus Lupin x Sirius's sister!Reader

Synopsis: When James and lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you have left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his.

WC: 817 words

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, kiss(es), might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks ( idk), love (ew), [ look at series masterlist for all content warnings]

A/n: bear with me on this one, it's rather short but it's to jumpstart the series so i can write the rest of the parts. If you like this, please reblog and comment! <3

Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist, Navigation

"When did you say they were arriving again?"

Your voice echoes through the walls of the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld place. you wipe down the kitchen counters as another smaller, more meek voice replies.

"Mum we talked about this" That's your son. Regulus.

After the event of your brother passing, you wanted to honour his name. Such a beautiful name it was. No matter how cruel the people to name him were.

"I know ,I just worry, what if they get lost? maybe they couldn't find the place? what if they got caught- " Your rambling was interrupted by your son once again.

"MUM! nothing is going to happen. Besides, he's your brother. And he has lived here before. You know him." Regulus reasoned, and frankly his reasoning was logical. you were just...paranoid.

You did however, leave out the fact that what truly made you nervous was Remus.

"Well i haven't for the past 14 years, Regulus." you replied, snappy, referring to sirius. Your impatience was nearly rivaling that of your son.

"when is it arrivingggg?" a voice full of exasperation nearly whines as the screeching sound of trolly wheels comes to a halt.

An eleven year old regulus rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet as he (claimed to) patiently wait for hogwarts express to make it's way into the platform.

A thirty three year old you bent down to brush away his untamed curls, sighing as you did so.

"It will arrive soon enough, dove. Calm down."

Your voice tried to reason but little regulus's patience was waning. You had never seen a kid be so excited at the thought of going off to boarding school. But you suppose watching his older brother Harry would have embedded him with some form of excitement for the school.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t just as excited. It was your son’s first day at school. Big boy wizarding school.You were excited to see your boy go to the place you first knew as home, meet your former professors, roam the halls that you did, and make friends.

You did not, however, expect his first friend to be Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and your dearest cousin. In a way the two were cousins, they just didn’t know it yet.

That summer, when regulus came back from Hogwarts, he had a plethora of stories to tell you. His rant began with his new friends, Draco, Blaise, Pansy and Theo, and ended with his defense against the dark arts professor, Remus Lupin.

Needless to say all colour drained from your face at the mention of him. Remus Lupin…how do you even begin to describe remus lupin?

Remus is pretty.

He is pretty like the sunrise in winter, when the sky is faded out and it's warm. Thats what you think as you sit on the roof of potter manor. Chatting, with hands occupied by, what you think is, beer in plastic cups. You felt giddy, perhaps it was the alcohol in your system. Or the gentle brush of his hand on your clothed thigh. You felt…in love. Somewhere along the way your innocent schoolgirl crush had become something more. You hoped it had been so for him as well.

“Dove…”

His velvety voice catches your attention. You turn your head to him, only to see him still facing the sun. You’re sure he’s seen your movement though, as he takes it as his que to continue.

Nothing. Nothing could brace you for the words that were to follow.

“I fancy you.” Your eyes widen.He continues.

“I have for some time now… I think you fancy me too? Not to- I- uhm–”

“I do.” you find yourself speaking.

That was your first of many kisses to come.

Just then, the sound of the doorbell catches your attention.

“That must be them” your son says, in a rather ‘i told you so’ tone.

You rush to wipe your hands on the kitchen towel and head for the door.

Taking a deep breath to brace yourself for what’s probably Remus Lupin on the other side of the door, you pull it open with a creak.

Your eyes immediately find his.

And for a moment, you're fourteen again. Staring at the brown haired bloke across kings cross station, as he laughs with your brother. Mesmerized by his eyes, his nose, his lips, his scars. You knew that face all too well.

You blink and you're back at the doorway. Staring at those brown eyes, those eyes you knew...all too well.

"Remus.."

"Hi, love"

Taglist (open): @twilightlover2007 @idli-dosa

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cowboydisaster · 11 months ago

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I have a prompt idea if you're still looking for some! How about the reader finding and taking an itty bitty kitten that was orphaned and Arthur's real grumpy about it at first but then she finds him asleep on the couch with the kitten curled up on his chest and he's got a hand over it protectively or something. I know that's not really Christmas-y, but I thought it would be cute! Looking forward to all your writings as always 🥰

* ˚ ✦ Moonlight * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f! reader

word count: 1k

a/n: Sorry this was late, it's been a madhouse around here. Anyways, i love this prompt and it makes me want a house cat SO bad. i also love grumpy arthur and if you couldn't tell already, domesticity is my roman empire rn.

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: THREE days 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

“No.” Arthur growls, voice stern, resolve set. Your eyes are as big as dinner plates as you continue pleading and begging. Your lip juts out, even, testing his patience, shaking his resolve. Arthur is notoriously bad at telling you no. When you’d asked for a second baby, he’d willingly agreed. When you’d asked for the house, and the farm, he’d made it happen for you. But this?

“Please, Arthur… Where else is he supposed to go?” You whisper so as not to wake the baby, sleeping soundly in her bassinet.

“I don’t give a damn. Not here.” Arthur grumbles, placing his tools from work on the table. You follow him around the kitchen like a shadow as he opens and closes cupboards and drawers, putting away all his items from the day.

Arthur is pointedly trying not to look at the little black ball of fur nestled in your arms. He’s afraid that if he catches a glimpse of those big, sad eyes, he’ll agree with you, and he’ll have an extra mouth to feed.

“Where’d you find it, anyways?” Arthur says, turning, sighing as you push the teeny kitten up towards his face, holding it under its little armpits.

“I found him stranded on the road back from the market. Look at him, Arthur. He’s not well. We’ll have to feed him.” You plead. Arthur’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he stops and turns around. You nearly run into his back, stopping just in time.

Arthur gets a good glimpse at the little feller then. He’s just a little cat, probably only a few months old. He’s far too skinny, and his jet black coat is ruffled and dirty from the elements. You hold the cat out to show Arthur, and then he sees the little, white, crescent-shaped mark that adorns his forehead, right between his blue eyes. Arthur releases the bridge of his nose, sighing grumpily. When his eyes crack open, and he sees your pleading face, perfectly matching the cat’s expression, he gives up.

“Goddammit, fine. Jus’ throw him in the spare room, n’ I’ll find him some fish or somethin’.” Arthur says, rather dramatically, in your opinion. You hold the kitten close to your chest, your spare arm wrapping around the man’s neck.

“Oh, thank you, Arthur!!” You smile, kissing him quickly before popping down from your tiptoes.

“Yeah, well don’t get all cheery just yet. We’re tossin’ him back out in the snow as soon as he’s good and healthy.”

— — —

The rocking chair swings back and forth quietly. Your hand gently taps your daughter’s back, and you hum quietly. She’d woken you and Arthur up in a fit, hungry, raising her little fists into the air and giving you both hell. But now, her little belly is full, and a peaceful silence has fallen over the house once more. The moonlight streaking through the windows tells you that it’s early morning, and you sigh at another night’s lack of sleep.

“Easy, baby.” You whisper, quietly and slowly standing from the rocking chair, swaying her in your arms until you reach her bassinet.

“Good night, my sweet girl.” You whisper sweetly, pressing a kiss to her little forehead, brushing some peach fuzz out of her face.

You push the nursery door open quietly, eager to find your place next to Arthur in bed again. But a few steps down the hall, you stop in your tracks, a familiar voice coming from the living room.

“Yeah, well you’re a right bastard, y’know that?” Arthur whispers, and you suppress a laugh, peeking around the corner.

Arthur is sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. Laying on his chest, nuzzled against his thick arm, is the little kitten. He purrs loudly, eyes closed, awfully content in your husband’s arms. Your heart melts in its cavern at the sight, and you watch the scene play out with bright eyes.

“The lady is puttin’ the lil’ one back to bed, I figure I might as well do somethin’. So, make no mistakes, partner. We ain’t friends.” He whispers to the kitten, but contrary to his harsh words, Arthur’s finger scratches gently behind the kitten’s ear, pulling deep rumbles and purrs from the little animal. A few moments go by with Arthur’s hand resting protectively on the little cat.

“Y’know, you are kinda cute… But don’t tell the missus I said that. I don’t want her thinkin’ I’ve gone soft.”

You suppress a chuckle.

“I reckon we should call you Moon… cause you got a little one right between them big eyes.” Arthur hums, eyelids growing heavy the longer he rests on the couch. You clear your throat gently, making him aware of your presence before stepping into the living room.

“Didn’t see you there.” Arthur says, sitting straight on the couch, cheeks tinted pink.

“She’s asleep.” You smile, “I see you’re making friends.”

Arthur exhales sharply, a huff of a laugh, “Me and the cat? Nah, he uh– he wouldn’t stop hollerin’ so I tried holdin’ him.” Arthur excuses, hand still wrapped protectively around the sleeping animal.

“Right.” You raise an eyebrow, “You comin’ back to bed, then?”

Arthur hesitates, looking up at you, then down to Moon.

“I’ll be in shortly, sweetheart. Just gonna stay out here a little longer with him so he doesn’t go wakin’ you or the kids up.”

You smirk, “Alright then, Arthur.”

A kiss is planted to his lips before you head to the bedroom, and he sinks back down on the couch with Moon tucked into his arm.

Five minutes turn to ten, and ten to thirty. And when you wake up to start breakfast, your husband is still cuddled up on the couch. Snores fall from his lips, matching the time of little content purrs coming from Moon, sleeping in a little ball right on Arthur’s chest. So much for not giving a damn. You chuckle to yourself.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445 [to be added or removed, shoot me an ask! :)]

#divider by cafekitsune #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 #rdr2 fandom

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sheeple · 9 months ago

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Miracles don't exist | Epilogue

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None A/n: It feels weird uploading the last part of the story. Shoutout to everyone who has been following the story — from the beginning and from the end. [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

It's dark around you. Dark and dingy and it vaguely smells of mould. It makes your nose itch. Every way you look is pitch black. Only when you focus really hard you spot a faint light in the distance. You start to walk towards it, in the hope of escaping.

But the more your speed picks up, the farther the light goes. Until you're sprinting and the light is gone. You collapse on the ground and heave while tears start to pool in your eyes.

You let out a scream and your voice echoes around you. Clutching your head tightly, you curl up into a ball and rock yourself back and forth. The silence of the void is all-consuming, swallowing you whole.

Your eyes open widely as your chest raises rapidly. Cold sweat runs down your temples and you turn your head, to look at your husband. Tired eyes look at you with concern. Knitting your brows together, you shuffle into his embrace. "Sorry for waking you up", you whisper, your voice wavering with sleep.

"Was it the same one?", he asks, stroking your back while his other hand takes hold of your hand, pressing kisses against the inside of your wrist, his lips ghosting around the Mark. He always does this when he wants to soothe you.

You hum and close your eyes. "It's been so calm lately." Clutching tightly onto the back of Theo's sleepshirt, you try your best to forget the memories.

The two of you know why your nightmares are resurfacing. It's the first time in years that you're back on British soil. The first time since the end of the war.

Immediately when the end was declared, Theodore and you got your affairs in order and left Great Britain for Canada. You had to leave. England was never your home and you're happy now, with your little bookshop that caters to wizard and non-wizard kind.

And the weirdest part is that you're back for Hermione and Ron's wedding. Yes, you've kept sending letters to Hermione — and when you finally got a computer communication got way easier — but you never expected her to want you to be at her wedding. A lot has changed in five years.

It was actually Theo who convinced you to go. "If not for the ceremony, then for the reception afterwards. Didn't you always say you two were friends?" He raises his brows with a teasing glint in his eyes and you know he's right. By now you've learned that he's almost always right. Almost.

You're lucky you've kept the cottage by the sea. It's the only happy thing about coming back. The sound of waves crashing against the shore calms you as you squeeze your eyes closed in the hope of going back to sleep. But it's no use.

Once you hear the grandfather clock downstairs chime six times, you decide that you've laid awake enough and you slip out of bed. Making sure Theo's tucked in warmly, you put on your robe and make your way downstairs.

You turn on the water cooker and start to prepare for breakfast, softly humming to yourself as the silence of the old house is jarring to you.

Over the years you've discovered that you don't do well with silence. Call it trauma from the war or just living in a bustling city, but not having any music on in the background makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. And since you still have to buy a radio for the cottage, you have to make do with humming to yourself.

Two arms wrap around you from the back as Theodore buries his nose in the nape of your neck. He holds you close to his body as he watches you fry the eggs.

"Morning", you muse, laying a hand over his own. He grumbles while pressing butterfly kisses against your skin. A soft giggle escapes you as he stays clutched tightly around you while you plate up the food.

A disapproving hum gets muffled against your skin as you try to unfold his arms from you to have breakfast.

Then, an idea pops into your head. "I was thinking of taking a bath after breakfast. Do you want to join me?" You feel Theo halt his ministrations before quickly letting go and practically throwing himself in front of his breakfast.

"What are you standing there for?! Eat up!"

You're nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek as you walk towards the entrance of the tent, Theodore's hand clutched tightly in your own, grounding you.

The reception is beautifully lit with stars and fairy lights. Tables are spaced around and people mingle around. Off to the side stand Hermione and Ron, welcoming guests who haven't been at the ceremony.

Hermione's face lights up when she spots you and you hurry your steps towards her. The two of you hug for the first time in years and you can't wipe the wide smile off your face.

"Oh, how lovely you look!", you say once you've parted, admiring her beautiful wedding dress.

Hermione's glowing and the dress compliments her perfectly. The tule floats around her and sparkles under the lights.

"I'm so happy you came. We'll talk later, okay?", she says as the next guests enter the reception.

You nod and take Theo's hand to find the table you're assigned to. He pulls the chair out for you and you thank him with a smile. Slowly the table fills and the speeches begin.

First, it's Mr Granger. He tells about her growing up and the sacrifices she made during the height of the war to ensure her parents were safe. Then it's Mr Weasley, who gives a somewhat funny speech. He ends with the question of what a toaster does before he's ushered away from the mic.

And finally Harry. He still wears the same round glasses and his hair is also the same, although less unruly. Seeing him after such a long time makes you feel weird, how much you want to ignore the feeling.

Under the table, you feel Theo lay a hand on your thigh. When you look at him, he gives you a reassuring smile while squeezing your knee. You lay your hand over his own and continue listening to the other speeches.

Dinner gets served and you converse with the people around the table. That's how you discover you're seated with Hermione's cousin and a good friend from Ron's work.

Once dessert has been cleared, everybody's free to mingle around. "I'll get us something to drink from the bar. What do you want?", asks Theo as the two of you stand to the side, watching Hermione and Ron dance.

"Cola's fine. Thanks, babe." He gives you a quick peck before he's off to the bar.

You're not alone for long as someone slowly comes to stand next to you. Looking to the side, you're eye to eye with Harry. Your body tenses and you clench your hands to fists. "Hello."

"Hi", he answers back simply, clutching a glass of champagne tightly in his hands. "How have you been?"

"Good", you nod, praying that Theodore returns soon, "you know, just… living life. And you?"

Harry nods. "The same, honestly. I've been in the Auror force for almost five years now."

"Really? I've always thought you would get into teaching." You chew on the inside of your cheek, surveying the room.

After that, silence falls between the two of you. You're still not totally at ease next to Harry. It's been a while but the memories still haunt you.

Harry takes a sip of his champagne, watching Ron twirl and dip Hermione with wide smiles on their faces. "Did I ever have a chance?"

The question makes your stomach drop. "Yes", you answer after a moment or two, "but after- after sixth year- I was so afraid you would hurt me again, Harry. And that the next time, you would kill me." You swallow thickly, glancing at the bespectacled man next to you, gauging his reaction.

Harry looks shocked at your reaction and his hand reaches out but stops just short of your arm. it closes to a fist before dropping next to him. "I could never hurt you intentionally. I loved you too much… still do."

"Stop", you say while shaking your head, taking a couple steps away from him. "Stop it, Harry. You're with Ginny. And Teddy and I… We're a family." Subconsciously, you lay a hand on your stomach and Hary's eyes focus on the movement.

He takes a moment to realise what you're implying. "You're pregnant?", he asks bewildered. Something flashes through his eyes. Could it be… hurt?

As he takes a step towards you, you take one back. And praise the heavens, Theo comes back at the right time. "Potter", he says, giving you your glass and standing protected in front of you.

Harry relents and creates some distance between him and the two of you. "Nott. Congratulations on the pregnancy." It comes out forced. With one last flickering look towards you, he turns around and walks off.

You follow him until he is back at his label, taking place next to Ginny, who's already looking at you with an unreadable look. You must up a kind smile and wave towards her. Ginny does not return the gesture and turns her back towards you.

A deep breath escapes you and you take a large sip of your drink.

"What did he want?", asks Theo as he lays a hand on your hip.

You shake your head. "I'm not sure myself. Going here was a mistake, Teddy. Can we please just go?" You look up at your husband with pleading eyes.

Without hesitation, he nods and the two of you collect your belongings. You shoot Hermione a quick text as an apology saying you're not feeling too well and that you didn't want to bother her.

Once outside of the venue, you apparate back towards your home. With a sigh, you kick off your shoes and let yourself fall onto the bed. You look up at Theo as he undoes his tie. "I love you", you say, watching his face soften.

He walks closer towards the bed and drags you towards him by your ankles. You let out a giggle, sitting upright. He traces your face with his fingers before closing the gap and pressing his lips on yours. You close your eyes and hum into the kiss, pulling him closer by his neck.

When Theo breaks the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours. "I love you. The both of you."

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever @nopedefe @randomgurl2326 @rinalouu @yazminetrahan @ellen3101 @comfyvic

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lumosandnoxwriting · 7 months ago

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Never Let Go || George Weasley

Title: Never Let Go Pairing: George x Reader Summary: Turns out building a family isn’t as easy as George thought it would be. A/N: part 2 to dad!george x nanny!reader! Though it’s not so much nanny!reader anymore as it’s more like stepmom!reader but whatever! Hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always welcome/appreciated! <3

It’s no surprise that George finds them in the backyard.

Summer is finally in full swing in the UK, and he knows Y/N likes to have Remi out in the fresh air as much as possible. The almost two year old has them on their toes, and spending the day out in the garden, running through the grass seems to be the only way to ensure Remi falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. And George really does mean an actual pillow, since they recently upgraded the crib in her room to a toddler bed.

He has no idea where the time has gone.

He had hoped to sneak up on them, considering the fact that it’s the middle of the day on Tuesday and he’s supposed to be at work. But when he steps out onto the back porch he isn’t met with the sight of Y/N and Remi kicking a ball back and forth or blowing bubbles. No, the scene he walks in on is much more precious.

Y/N is laying in the hammock, one foot on the ground to slowly rock it back and forth while Remi lays on top of her chest, fast asleep. They’ve got matching white sundresses on, a gift for Mother’s Day from Molly. He figures Y/N is asleep too, but when the deck stairs creak under his weight her eyes open and a bright grin takes over her face.

“George,” she breathes, voice quiet so as to not wake their toddler. “You’re home early.”

“I missed my girls and I’ve been jealous of all the fun you two have been having together,” George explains as he approaches. “Besides, Fred has been having so much fun torturing the interns he won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

Y/N giggles and pats the empty netting beside her. “Here, come join us.” When George gives Remi a weary glance, she waves away his concerns. “She’s out cold and probably will be for another hour, Sandra next door’s St. Bernard chased her around the yard for over an hour this morning.”

George rounds the hammock, carefully easing himself down next to the girls so he doesn’t flip them. He lays down on his side facing Y/N, propping his head up with one hand while the other rests on Remi’s bum, just below where Y/N’s own hand is. He leans in and kisses his daughter’s messy curls, before placing one on his girlfriend’s temple.

He can’t believe that it’s been almost eighteen months since that day at the brownstone, when he opened up his front door to meet his new nanny only to fall head over heels in love with her instead. It’s hard to believe how much has changed in such a short time.

For starters he sold that stupid brownstone that he loved so much. As Remi got older it was clear his bachelor pad was not easily converted into a family home, and the pathetic stretch of grass he called a back yard was insufficient for his sweet summer child who loved running barefoot in the grass. Plus with Y/N in their lives, the possibility of someday growing their family was always in the back of George’s mind and a London townhome was barely big enough for the three of them.

So with a great return on his investment and a little dipping into his savings, George was able to buy a large family home in one of the uppity neighborhoods on the outskirts of London. Sure his commute every day is hell, but they’ve got a backyard big enough for them to add a dog or two, the best schools in the country are just a short walk away, and there’s plenty of room in case they decide to add to their family one day.

Which is something George hopes happens soon, one of the biggest changes that has happened since Y/N came into their lives. Before Remi George had a hard time imagining himself settling down, getting married and having some kids, and whenever he did it was far into the future by at least ten years. Once Remi was dropped into his lap that outlook had changed, but he always figured it would be just him and his daughter, something he was totally okay with.

Falling in love with Y/N totally changed all of those plans.

He didn’t want a life that was just him and Remi. He wanted one that included Y/N and the love and light she brings with her, with as many kids as she wants to give him. And he didn’t want that life years from now anymore, he wanted it as soon as she would allow him to stick a ring on her finger.

Hence the diamond ring tucked away in the safe at work. George doesn’t think she’s quite there yet, but as soon as she is he’ll be down on one knee and making her his wife.

But by far the biggest change that’s happened is the fact that he no longer has a nanny. Because now Y/N is a stay at home mum. So far that change has certainly been the most difficult, and it’s all thanks to the stubborn girl laying next to him.

Once their relationship became romantic George knew Y/N could no longer be his nanny. Simply for the fact that it felt wrong to hand her a paycheck on Friday morning only to have her underneath him in bed that night. Besides, once that line had been crossed they both considered Remi to be their daughter, not just George’s and he certainly wouldn’t pay his wife or the mother of his child to take care of them.

So he had proposed two possible paths to Y/N.

The first being that he would stop paying her to watch Remi, and in turn George would take over all financial responsibility in their home. His money would become their money, and George would take care of all of their bills while she stayed at home and took care of the house and Remi.

Y/N had flat out told him no. Which aggravated him and made him fall even more in love with her. But George had understood her response once she had explained that of course she considers Remi her daughter, the fact of the matter is she really isn’t Remi’s mum, and she’d feel weird taking on a role without having felt like she really earned it. Which George thought was total bullshit, he understood her point of view, but he thought it was bullshit.

Which led him to propose the second path. Y/N would no longer be Remi’s nanny, giving her the ability to seek a new, day time position with another family. She of course would still live at home with them, and George would find a new nanny to look after Remi during the day while they were both at work.

He figured that would be the perfect solution. Y/N would still be making her own money while getting to be with him and Remi, Remi would have still have that one on one care George wanted for her and he no longer had to pay his girlfriend to hang out with their kid.

Except her response to this proposition was the same as the first. Hell no.

Which had pissed George off to no end. He was trying to find a solution that would make their family work and keep all of them happy, and his sweet, stubborn girl shot him down. Twice. His anger had abated when during one of their arguments Y/N explained that the thought of another woman being in their home taking care of their daughter made her absolutely sick to her stomach. Because how the fuck could George be mad at her for being jealous at the thought of someone else being with Remi.

So for months George kept signing Y/N’s paychecks and they kept fighting about how best to handle things moving forward. And George uses the term fighting very loosely, considering the fact it was more him trying to convince Y/N to let him take care of her and her saying no.

It wasn’t until they moved into the new house, and their neighbor Sandra slapped George across the face and yelled about him being a dirty cheater, did they finally come to an agreement.

Because when Y/N took Remi to the park down the road she’d introduced herself as Remi’s nanny to the neighborhood moms and nannies that were there with their kids. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem, except for the fact that they started to notice that when Remi called her Mama she never corrected her, and on the weekends it was always George and “the nanny” taking Remi to the park together and they always seemed to be so close.

So when Sandra saw them kiss in the driveway before George went off to work it seemed to confirm the neighborhood gossip that had been going around for weeks: George Weasley was screwing his nanny and was going to replace Remi’s biological mother with her.

Which explains why Sandra, a woman George had barely spoken to at that point, assaulted and confronted him on his own property. Thankfully Y/N had been able to calm Sandra down, and after awkwardly explaining to her that Y/N was both Remi’s nanny and George’s girlfriend and that there was no other woman involved, the rumor mill dried up and everything went back to normal.

But Y/N felt so terrible that she agreed to quit her job as Remi’s nanny, with the stipulation that George let her work a job that still allowed her to be home with their little girl during the day. So now she works for a few families in the neighborhood as a nanny part time, that way whether she’s working or not Y/N is still Remi’s full time caretaker and she can contribute to the house with her own money.

“Whatcha thinking about?” YN murmurs after they’ve been sitting in silence for a bit.

“You, Remi, life,” George answers simply.

“I can’t believe she’s almost two,” Y/N says wistfully, slowly rubbing Remi’s back. “I feel like just yesterday she was learning to crawl and asking for more juice by throwing her empty sippy cup at me,” she pauses as they both laugh. “Now she runs circles around me and says please and thank you.”

“It’s hard to believe that she used to be that tiny, fragile baby I found on my doorstep.”

Y/N stiffens next to him, just like she always does whenever Remi’s biological mother or how Remi came to be in George’s life is mentioned. She’s never even met the woman, but Y/N feels nothing but hatred towards her purely because of how carelessly she abandoned her little girl. There’s also a little jealousy there too, because as Remi gets older it is apparent that looks wise, she takes after the woman who provided the other half of her DNA, giving Remi a connection to her that Y/N will never have. She will love Remi with her whole heart until the moment she takes her last breath, but she will never be the woman that gave her life.

“Even though I hate the way she came into your life,” Y/N starts, tilting her head back so she can look up at George. “I’m really fucking glad she did.”

“Me too, baby,” George agrees, leaning in to kiss Y/N softly. “Me too.”

“What are the ethical and legal implications for fucking an intern?” Fred asks suddenly, making all of the men groan. “Hypothetically, of course.”

Every month the Weasley brothers get together for a guys night. They play poker, drink beer and just catch up with each other. They’re at Bill’s tonight, in a shed out in the garden that he converted into a man cave. It’s a full house tonight, with George, Fred, Ron, Bill, Charlie and Ginny’s fiancé Harry all in attendance, and all of them are looking at Fred with disappointment.

“Fred, you shouldn’t have fucked an intern,” Bill scolds, forever the responsible eldest brother.

“Hey, I never said I did. I said hypothetically speaking,” Fred points out. “And I’m a little hurt by all of the judgment boys. Georgie over here fucked his employee and all of you congratulated him. Not fair.”

George rolls his eyes, taking a sip from his beer. “First of all, fuck face, if you talk about my future wife like that ever again I’ll knock you on your ass. Second of all, what happened with Y/N and I is completely different than whatever you plan on doing with one of our interns.”

“Oh please brother, enlighten me,” Fred snaps.

“Well for one I’m not nearly a decade older than her,” George responds, narrowing his eyes as he glares at his brother. “Not to mention the second things turned romantic I tried to fire her, not my fault Y/N is the most stubborn woman on the planet. Any intern you hump and dump will still be our employee for at least two more months. And fraternization in that manner can certainly be construed as sexual harassment, which could end in a horrible, very public lawsuit that will ruin the company we worked so hard to build. Me kissing Y/N ended in a very happy, healthy, romantic relationship. We are not the same.”

Fred is silent for a few moments, and George is almost certain he’s gotten through to his twin. Until the other man opens his mouth.

“So what you’re saying is I should wait until August, once their internship has ended, to fuck them?”

“I need another fucking drink,” George grumbles, pushing away from the table before he heads towards the little bar Bill has set up in the corner. He drowns out the conversation Ron has started, since it’s mainly focused on which intern Fred has his eye on, so he’s surprised when Bill slides up next to him.

“Hey. I’ve got that number you asked Fleur for,” Bill murmurs, holding out a piece of paper for George to take.

He gives it a quick glance, noting it’s nothing but a phone number, no name or identifying information, before he slips it into his pocket. “Thanks man, I appreciate it.” Both the number Bill has given him and his discretion in how he chose to give it to him.

Because George isn’t one hundred percent certain what he’s doing is legal, and the less people that know about it the better.

It feels kind of silly, scolding Fred about ethics and legal ramifications when George finds himself in a similar position, but his motivation has nothing to do with getting his dick wet, so he feels like his pursuit is at least a little justified.

Six months ago he had his lawyer start looking into what’s legally required for Y/N to be able to adopt Remi once they get married. He knows it kills her that the only claim she has to Remi is the one in her heart and George wants to make sure that she has the legal rights to their daughter as well.

Unfortunately for George, the answer was far from simple. Because when Emily, Remi’s biological mother, dropped her on his doorstep there was no documentation that she was officially terminating her rights. Meaning that even though George has been her sole legal guardian for nearly 24 months at any moment in time Emily can reappear, demand custody and have it granted. It also means that Y/N can’t legally become Remi’s mother.

His lawyer had spent a few months trying to dig up any information, in the hopes that Emily had filed the paperwork to terminate her rights and they just didn’t know about it. When that search turned up empty their focus pivoted, and George had his attorney find out how to contact Emily, hoping that they could get her to agree to meet and come in to sign her rights away.

But so far every attempt has failed. Either the numbers his lawyer finds are out of service or no one returns their call. Places of employment claim to have no employees under that name and every address is outdated. It’s been months since their search began and they still have nothing.

Luckily for George his sister-in-law knows some interesting people. He doesn’t want or need to know why Fleur has the number for a private investigator who has a knack for hacking, he’s just thankful that she does.

Because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his family.

But the blurred lines between right and wrong keep him from telling Y/N about the information Bill passed along to him when she asks him how boy’s night went as he slips into bed beside her that night. That way if this all ends up blowing up in his face George will be the only one hurt in the process.

At least he hopes.

The little family Y/N pulled together started on an unsuspecting Monday morning.

So it makes sense that it all starts to fall apart on one too.

“What did you forget this time?” Y/N teases as she pulls open the front door. George only left for work a few minutes ago, and after a weekend at home with their family it’s pretty typical for him to get on the road only to have to turn around to retrieve something he forgot. But the smile fades from her face when she realizes George isn’t the one who rang the bell, but a beautiful brunette woman.

A beautiful brunette woman who has soft curls falling down her back and a face shape that she would recognize anywhere considering the fact that she presses a kiss to that same arched brow every single night.

Nope, Remi’s Father is not standing on the porch - her Mother is.

The woman, Emily, smiles at Y/N either oblivious to the distress on her face or she simply does not care enough to react to it. “Is George home?”

“N-no,” Y/N stutters out, too stunned to say anything else. “He’s at work.”

Emily shakes her head, looking Y/N up and down in a way that’s anything but friendly. “Ah, you must be the nanny then.”

The way she says nanny creates a pit in Y/N’s stomach, and it takes all of her strength not to flinch. Because how fucking dare this woman who abandoned her child show up years later and be anything but thankful and appreciative for the woman who picked up her slack.

“Is there something I can help you with, Emily?” she asks after taking a moment to compose herself.

Because as much as she wants to give this woman a piece of her mind, Remi is just in the other room, and she has to keep her head on straight to make sure no harm comes to her daughter. No matter what this horrid woman thinks of Y/N, Remi is hers, and she’d do anything to keep that little girl safe.

If Emily is surprised to be recognized it doesn’t show on her face. She pulls a card out of her pocket, offering it to Y/N. “No, George will know why I was here. Have him give me a call.”

Y/N isn’t in control of her body as she reaches a shaky hand out and takes the proffered card, her mind numb. She watches as Emily turns on her heel and walks away without a care in the world. Like she didn’t just blow up Y/N’s life.

Because why the hell would George know why Emily came by the house?

And why the fuck doesn’t she?

George knows something is wrong the second he walks through the door that night.

Usually the house is filled with noise, Y/N almost always has music playing in the background as she cooks dinner and the sounds of her and Remi laughing echoes off the walls. But tonight when he swings the door open, his mouth opening to shout a greeting he’s met with dead silence.

He’s immediately on edge, worried something has happened to his girls.

“Y/N?” he calls out, voice frantic. “Where are you?”

He searches the bottom floor, switching between calling out for Y/N and Remi, his anxiety heightening each time he goes unanswered. His palms are sweating and he feels like he’s on the verge of a panic attack when he heads upstairs, his body moving without really being aware of where it’s going.

All George knows is that something is wrong and he needs to find Y/N and Remi before he loses his mind.

Finally he swings open Remi’s bedroom door and he takes his first deep breath in what feels like hours. Because Y/N is standing there, her back to the door as she gazes out the window. Her shoulders stiffen, so George knows she’s aware of his presence, but she doesn’t turn when he murmurs her name. It’s then that he finally notices a lack of their daughter, and the packed duffle bag sitting on the floor next to Y/N.

“Where’s Remi?”

“At Bill and Fleur’s,” Y/N answers, her voice flat as she still refuses to look at George.

Her lack of emotion and just general shitty behavior does nothing but piss George off, which is why his words come out sharper than he intends them to. “Y/N what the fuck is going on?”

She finally turns to look at George then, and her appearance has him stifling a gasp. While no tears fall from her eyes, they’re rimmed with red and slightly puffy - a tell-tale sign that she’s spent a good chunk of the day crying. Her body is stiff, her arms crossed like she needs to protect herself. And her eyes, those eyes that George loves so much, are filled with one emotion: betrayal.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

That isn’t what George expected her to say, and he feels a little lame that he doesn’t immediately have a response.

“Maybe you can start by telling me why the fuck, Emily showed up at our house today looking for you, and when I said you weren’t home she just left her number, claiming that you would know exactly why she was here.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

George’s stomach is in knots and he feels like he’s going to throw up. He should have told Y/N that he was looking for Emily, he feels like such an idiot for keeping that from her. His lawyer has called several of her friends and family members to try and get a hold of her, of course one of them was sure to tell Emily George was looking for her. So it really isn’t a surprise that she decided to track him down instead.

Well at least, not a surprise to him. And why should Y/N have been expecting Emily to show up at their door after no contact for almost two years? He really, really fucked up.

“Baby, wait, it’s not what it looks like,” George starts to explain, taking a step towards her.

But Y/N takes a step back, holding up her hand to cut him off. “Really? Because it looks like you went behind my back and sought out the biological mother of the child you claim to be ours, after she abandoned her on a front porch no less.”

Fuck, it sounds even worse when she puts it like that.

“Please, just let me explain,” George pleads.

But Y/N just shakes her head. “The time for you to explain would have been before any of this shit started.” She picks her bag up and tears start to well in her eyes. “I need a second George, to think about things. To think about what Emily being back around means for me and us and this family. Fleur and Bill are going to keep Remi for tonight, and Sandra agreed to watch her while you’re at work for the next few days.”

As she walks out of the room Y/N pauses next to George. “Emily’s number is on the counter in the kitchen. You better have a damn good reason for needing it.”

George stands there alone in the middle of Remi’s bedroom until he hears the front door click shut behind Y/N. It’s only when he’s sure he’s alone does he allow himself to break down: tears rolling down his cheeks as he falls to his knees.

He thought keeping this secret was going to ensure Y/N felt secure in their family, but now it looks like he may have lost her for good.

Y/N plasters a fake smile on her face, not needing all of their friends and family to know how torn up her insides are. Because of course, the weekend after George’s betrayal is Remi’s second birthday, and despite the fact that they’re still not speaking and she’s still not sure where her place in their family is anymore Y/N will always show up for Remi. She’s already had one mother walk out, and Y/N is not about to be another. Emily’s reappearance be damned Y/N loves that little girl, and she’ll happily suffer in silence if it keeps a smile on her daughter’s face.

Despite George’s best efforts, she’s managed to stay away from him so far. Of course they need to have a conversation about what happened, but the middle of their backyard while celebrating their daughter’s birthday is not the time or the place. So she’s kept close to Remi, reveling in the feel of holding her tiny hand as the toddler dragged her around the yard to all of the different activities they have set up.

She’s standing outside the bounce house, watching Remi tumble around with her friends and her Uncle Fred, chatting with one of the Mum’s when she feels his presence behind her. The warmth of his body seeps into her skin, and Y/N’s eyes flutter shut as the scent of his cologne washes over her. Despite all of her hurt and her anger this week without George has been torture, and she’s afraid to admit how good it feels to be near him again.

“Hi,” he greets, leaning in to murmur in her ear. “I’m really fucking happy to see you. I was afraid you weren’t going to show up.”

The other Mum gives her a cheeky wink before wandering off, clearly thinking Y/N and George are reconnecting during a quiet moment of a hectic day. Her stomach drops, both in fear and excitement.

“It’s our daughter’s birthday, George,” Y/N responds once she’s composed herself, eyes reopening as she takes a deep breath. “If you think I’d miss it just because I’m pissed at you, you don’t know anything about me. I’m not Emily.”

Regret slaps George in the face, and he kicks himself for being so stupid. He hasn’t been able to think straight since Monday night, when he came home and his whole world fell apart. Life without Y/N is bleak, and if it weren’t for the little girl giggling wildly as she has fun with her friends, George is sure he would have given up by now.

“I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking idiot,” he apologizes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Remi hasn’t been sleeping at night because she misses you and I haven’t been sleeping at night because I miss you and I feel so fucking terrible about everything and I can barely breathe let alone think straight.”

He pauses, taking a second to get his shit together.

“Of course I knew you would show up today, your love for Remi has always come first. That’s what I love most about you, how fiercely you love the people you care about.”

Y/N simply nods, to over run with emotion to trust her voice to come out clear and even. Knowing that Remi has been struggling during this time absolutely kills her, and she hates that she has brought her even an ounce of pain. But at least she’s young, and if this really is it for this relationship, Remi will never remember Y/N and the love and loss her brief stint in her life caused.

That’s a thought Y/N has had many times over this past week, and it’s just as heart wrenching to think about as it was the first time. Remi will never remember Y/N, but she’ll spend the rest of her life loving and missing that little girl.

“Can we talk tonight?” George pleads. “I want to explain everything to you, like I should have done on Monday. Or rather even before that night. And if you still want to walk away from this relationship after that I will let you go. But please know that you will always be a part of Remi’s life, whether you and I are together or not. Remi may have come from Emily, but you are her Mother and you always will be.”

George walks away then, and Y/N furiously wipes at the tears leaking down her cheeks before anyone has the chance to notice.

Y/N decides to hear George out.

Because even though her heart is hurting and she feels like her trust has been broken, just being in his presence today has made her feel the most normal she has all week. Being by his side while they held Remi and everyone gathered around to sing her happy birthday just felt right, like she was just where she was supposed to be. There is no doubt in her mind that George is the love of her life, and Y/N knows deep down that she’ll always regret not fighting for their relationship. And when George had assured her that no matter their relationship status Y/N would always be in Remi’s life, she figured she had nothing to lose by sitting down and hearing George’s side of things.

Plus, sticking around until the last partygoers made their way out means she gets to put Remi to bed for the first time in almost a week.

Which is where she is now, laying on her side in Remi’s bed with the little girl snuggled up against her. They’ve just finished reading her favorite book ‘I love you to the moon and back’ and now Y/N is slowly stroking her soft curls as she watches Remi’s eyes flutter open and closed and she fights off sleep.

“Mama miss me?” Remi’s sweet voice mumbles, and it makes Y/N’s heart break.

She leans in, pressing her lips against Remi’s forehead. “Mama missed you so much, baby.”

“Miss Mama,” Remi agrees, her lips smacking together as she tries to stay awake. “Love you Mama.”

“I love you too, Rem-Dog. More than you’ll ever know,” Y/N promises. That reassurance must make Remi feel safe enough to fall asleep, and Y/N watches as her eyes finally flutter closed and once her daughter’s breaths have evened out she presses one more kiss to Remi’s forehead before extracting herself from the bed.

“Goodnight, baby,” she murmurs, taking a second to tuck the covers tightly over Remi’s body. She heads towards the door, taking one more look over her shoulder before she closes it behind her. Taking a deep breath Y/N steals herself, preparing for whatever conversation is awaiting her downstairs.

George nearly jumps out of his seat when Y/N comes down the stairs, furiously wiping the sweat from his palms on his trousers. He gestures towards the seat across from him, giving her a small smile. “Sit, please.”

Once she’s seated across from him George sits down too, awkwardly fidgeting in his chair. He crosses and uncrosses his legs several times, his hands wringing together as he tries to figure out where to start.

“Thank you for staying and agreeing to hear me out.”

Y/N gives a curt nod. “I’m not making any promises here, George. But I at least owe it to myself and our family to sit here and listen to what you have to say.”

She watches as George grabs a thick manilla envelope off the chair next to him, waiting with bated breath as he slides a document out of it. He places it on the table, slowly sliding it towards her so that she can see what it is.

Y/N takes a moment to read, her eyes scanning the words over and over again so there’s no doubt in her mind what she’s looking at. As the information soaks in, tears start to form in the corners of her eyes, and she presses a hand to her trembling lips.

“George these are,” she starts, eyes finally flicking up to meet him.

“Adoption papers,” George confirms with a nod. “I told you earlier that no matter what happens between us you’ll always be Remi’s Mum, so I figured this would be a good place to start. That way once this conversation is done you can be free to feel however you want to feel, and not make a decision based on your love for Remi. I love you, Y/N, and I want us to be a family. But I understand that you might not feel that way anymore. So all you have to do is sign on the places that are marked, I already did, file these with the court and Remi will legally be yours too.”

“George, I,” Y/N stumbles, unable to find the words. This is the last thing she imagined George would say to her. And she knows now that whatever awful things she thought George was doing behind her back were nothing more than her insecurities speaking out.

When Emily showed up on their porch it surprised Y/N to her core, and all of those negative thoughts she’s had about feeling like she could never measure up to Remi’s biological mother came rushing back to the forefront of her mind; only made worse by the fact that George had seemingly been trying to get in contact with Emily behind her back.

But sitting here, now, with George offering her a permanent place in Remi’s life even if she doesn’t want one in his - she knows. She knows that this is all just some stupid misunderstanding and she nearly let the best thing that’s ever happened to her slip away.

“What about Emily?” Y/N asks, voice shaking. “I mean, isn’t she technically still Remi’s Mother like, legally?” she clarifies. She remembers when they had to register Remi at their new pediatrician after they moved, and they needed her birth certificate for her file. Y/N had noticed that Emily was still listed there, and when she googled what that meant that night, she found out it meant Emily hadn’t ever signed her rights away, so she still, legally, had a claim to their daughter.

“She signed her rights away,” George explains, a small smile forming on his face when Y/N’s jaw drops. “That’s why she showed up that day. My lawyer has been trying to hunt her down for months, and she must have heard I was looking for her.”

“And she signed them away?” Y/N asks, still in disbelief. “Just like that?”

George nods before launching into the story of what happened.

“You’re a hard woman to track down,” Martin, George’s attorney, jokes as Emily and her attorney take seats at the conference table across from them. But the smile is wiped from his face when George gives him a glare.

This is not the time for joking. He’s barely been functioning since Y/N walked out two nights ago, and he just wants to get this shit over with so he can come clean to her and get on his knees to beg for forgiveness. And at least with Emily out of the way, even if Y/N doesn’t want to take him back she can still adopt Remi. He will deal with shared custody and watching Y/N fall in love with someone else as long as it means his girls are together and happy.

“That’s what happens when you don’t want to be found,” Emily replies dryly. Her eyes finally and on George and the smirk that appears on her face makes his stomach turn. “Weasley, long time no see.”

George huffs. “Can we just cut the shit and get this over with? I’d like to get home to my daughter.”

He can’t help but notice that Emily doesn’t react to him claiming Remi as only his, and it just solidifies that going through all this shit was a good decision. Clearly this woman doesn’t give a shit about the little girl they created together, because if he had said something like that in front of Y/N she would have slapped him upside the head and made him sleep on the couch for a week.

“I’m sure she’s doing just fine with the nanny.” Emily’s voice drips with condescension, and it pisses George off even more.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he seethes. “Y/N is not Remi’s nanny, she’s her mother. And she’s a damn good one, which is something you know nothing about, so I’m not going to let you sit here and talk shit about the woman who has stepped up and done what you never had the balls to do.”

The room is silent, George’s words echoing around the room until Emily’s attorney clears his throat.

“Well now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he drawls. “Why are me and my client here?”

“Oh, right.” Martin grabs the manilla envelope sitting on the table, drawing a document out of it. He hands it to Emily’s attorney, giving him a moment to look it over before he speaks again. “We’d like for Emily to relinquish her rights to Remi. It’s been nearly two years since she abandoned the infant, and George would like for his partner to formally adopt their daughter.”

Every second Emily is silent makes George’s stomach sink further and further, and he can feel the bite of his nails digging into his palm from how hard his fists are clenched. Martin had assured George that even if Emily refuses to sign her rights away there were other ways to have them terminated, but it would be a lengthy process. Which George would absolutely not hesitate to pursue, but he wants this done as quickly as possible, which hinges on this right now going the way he wants.

“So I just sign and that’s it? The baby isn’t mine anymore?” Emily finally asks after she’s read the document.

Martin nods in confirmation. “Precisely. If you sign that today I’ll have it filed with the court this afternoon, and you will no longer have any legal rights or ties to Remi.”

“All right, do you have a pen?”

Not even a second of hesitation. The second her attorney puts a pen in her hand Emily is signing, double checking to make sure she hasn’t missed a spot. As soon as she’s satisfied that everything has been taken care of Emily slides the papers back over to Martin, and George feels as if a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. Emily is finally out of the way, and he and Y/N are free to be a family in every way possible.

As long as she still wants him, that is. That part of the plan is still up in the air.

“So, yeah. That was that,” George trails off as his story comes to an end. He sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N as she takes everything in. There’s a few different emotions flitting across their face, but they’re gone before George can tell what they are. Her eyes look at everything in the room except for his face, and he can’t tell if that’s a good sign or not.

“She just signed them away? Just like that?” Y/N finally says, her voice thick with emotion.

“Yep. We were ready to file a lawsuit for abandonment to have them involuntarily terminated but she just picked up a pen and signed them away.”

Y/N shakes her head. “Wow. Fuck her.”

George can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I was pissed at first too, because Remi is fucking amazing and how dare her Mum not realize that and fight to be in her life. But then I realized it doesn’t matter, because Emily isn’t Remi’s Mum and never has been. From the second you walked into our lives you have been her Mum, and the reason why she’s such an amazing little girl is because of you and the love and attention you have shown her. It doesn’t matter that Emily gave Remi half of her DNA, you’ve given Remi everything a real Mother should and that’s what matters.”

She doesn’t even know she’s crying until a few tears drip off of her chin, and Y/N works to quickly wipe them away. Everything George has said just erased every single doubt she’s ever had in her mind. Y/N always felt like Remi and Emily would have some kind of bond due to the fact that they share DNA, but hearing George just now and knowing Emily signed her rights away as if it were nothing proves that it’s all bullshit.

The only woman Remi will ever have that bond with is Y/N, and it has nothing to do with blood.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were looking for Emily, George?” Y/N finally asks. “I would have understood and supported you.”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot, for one,” George admits honestly. “When I first talked to Martin about the steps it would take for you to legally adopt Remi I wanted it to be a surprise. I bought a ring and had this whole plan to ask you to officially be a part of this family. But when we found out that Emily hadn’t signed away her rights I decided to keep it to myself. I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it wasn’t going to go the way we wanted it to.”

Y/N nods that she understands to encourage George to keep going. It’s actually kind of sweet that George had put so much thought into this whole thing, and she understands why he didn’t say anything. Clearly George was aware of the sore spot Y/N had regarding Emily, and she kind of loves him a bit more for trying to be sensitive to that.

“And then Martin’s search for her was going to shit. Every address we had was old or wrong, every phone number was out of service. Any employer we talked to just said she didn’t work there and any friends or family would ignore us. I was kind of starting to get a little desperate,” he admits sheepishly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “So I talked to Fleur and got the contact information for a guy with a, um, special set of skills.”

That gets Y/N curious. “What kind of skills?”

“Hacking, mostly,” George mumbles. “And I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that whatever he was going to do was totally legal, and I figured the less you knew about that the better. If it was all going to go to shit we both couldn’t be in jail. Remi would be left to Fred and we all know how that would end up.”

Once it’s clear George has said everything he needs to Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a second to just let everything sink in. Obviously George made a few mistakes in the way he went about things, she can’t deny how full her heart feels at his gestures. And it’s clear he feels absolutely terrible about how things came about and he regrets not being honest with her.

“That was really the only reason why you didn’t tell me you were looking for Emily? Because it was supposed to be a surprise and you didn’t want me to know about your potentially illegal activities?”

“I swear,” George promises, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m so sorry I kept it from you and I hurt you. I didn’t mean for that to happen and if I could go back and do things differently I would.”

Y/N nods in understanding. She brushes her fingers over the adoption papers, tapping them twice. “And no matter what happens between us you’ll let me sign these papers and legally become Remi’s Mum?”

“Of course. You’re her Mama, and I know how much you love her and she loves you just the same. We can go to court to figure out custody or we can just do it between us, whatever you want. But I will never stop you from being a part of our daughter’s life.”

“Well, I think I’ve heard everything I need to.” Y/N pushes away from the table, biting her lip to keep from grinning at the dejected look on George’s face. She stands, but instead of heading towards the door like he thinks, Y/N rounds the table, plopping herself right down into his lap.

“You got your chance to speak,” she starts, putting a finger to George’s lips to keep him from saying anything. “And now it’s my turn. I’m sorry too, for acting the way I did that night. Emily showing up shocked me, and brought all of these insecurities and negative thoughts to the forefront of my mind and I went spiraling down this dark path. I knew that there was a rational explanation for Emily being on our porch and I didn’t give you a chance to explain things. For that I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” George responds once she lets him speak. “But just know I’m only saying that to appease you and not because I really think you owe me an apology.” Y/N finally breaks out into a full smile, and George feels the happiest he has all week.

“And you’ll never go behind my back ever again?”

“Never,” George answers honestly, his voice firm.

Before George has the opportunity to realize what’s happening Y/N leans in, pressing their lips together and pouring every emotion she’s felt over their separation into their kiss. George wraps his arms around her waist, absorbing every bit of hurt, pain, anger, longing and love she passes off to him. Even when their kiss breaks he keeps her pressed tightly to his chest, silently telling her that he plans on never letting go again.

“So,” Y/N starts, her voice teasing. “What’s that you said about buying a ring?”

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