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osarina · 2 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 WASTELAND, BABY (I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: at the beach house, you can pretend that nothing is wrong. you know that avoidance will only get you so far, but you can't help but want to treasure the time you have with dazai... you don't know how much longer you'll have before everything catches up to you. until then, you'll enjoy the peace that you have, even if dazai does seem oddly intent on ruining it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: another week of minimal activity </3 sorry lil love bugs ive been so busy. BUT take civzai6!! and treasure it because this is the only chill chapter for quite a bit!! HAHAHHH no but for real i enjoyed this chapter so much that i literally had to split it in two because i wrote too much HAHAH, same goes for the next chapter ;) as always, reblogs are very appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from the other series - if you guys read waterloo, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole chapter just because there's 2-3k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the FINAL scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in waterloo, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. dazai has some insecure thoughts. he's also actively being self destructive. this is an easy chapter—calm before the storm. not much to warn. i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, praise, dazai cries a bit, lil bit of body worship (f->m), sub!dazai, mostly pretty vanilla - short and sweet

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

Dazai wakes up to the sun peeking through the blinds of the bedroom he’d shared with you and the scent of pancakes wafting through the air. His lips twitch up into a small smile as he stretches, letting out a soft sigh as he sinks into the comfortable mattress.

He thinks he slept better last night than he’s slept in his entire life. He’s always been plagued with restlessness, he can hardly ever sleep and when he does, he’s haunted by faces he’d rather not see again: Oda’s bloodstained face looking up at him as he dies in Dazai’s arms, the glassy eyes of his mother as she swings slowly from a rope, his aunt’s twisted expression as she throws Dazai to the ground in Suribachi, the hurt look in Ango’s eyes as he took all of the vile insults that Dazai spat at him. Dazai dreads sleeping about as much as the average person dreads ever having to confront their worst fear.

But last night? Last night, Dazai slept peacefully. He fell asleep curled up in your arms, laying on top of you—you’d still been awake, tracing patterns on his back through his shirt. You’d been distracted by something all day yesterday; from when you picked him up at the hospital to when you laid down with him in bed that night, something had been bothering you. Your phone had been buzzing nonstop, call after call and text after text—you didn’t bother checking it but he could tell it was stressing you out.

He tried to ask you about it but you blew it off every time. Dazai supposes he should have expected that from you but your evasion was still irritating, especially after the conversation the two of you had yesterday. You had the nerve to try to distract him with movies and figuring out how to bake a cake with him; he had the nerve to fall for the weak attempts at distracting him.

He yawns as he pushes himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes and tossing the blankets off. He tugs at the short sleeves of his t-shirt, feeling a bit too exposed. The bandages covering his wrists and arms are frayed—he’ll need to grab new ones to rewrap them soon, he hasn’t checked the bathroom to see if you had any stored. His shoulders ache a bit, he winces as he rolls them before making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen.

You’re standing at the stove, hand on your hip as you frown down at whatever you’re cooking. You’re still dressed in your pajamas—a thin black cami and loose shorts—and Dazai yearns, he feels it deep in his chest, feels it as a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his stomach. Because he could… he could picture it… he could picture a future with you.

He could imagine waking up to you every day—you’d always wake up before him because you somehow always wake up at the ass crack of dawn. You’d usually be dealing with some of your shady business when he wakes up, sitting at the kitchen table typing away at your phone, maybe you’d sometimes be on calls and you’d lift a finger to your lips to hush him when you realize he wakes up. Every once in a while, he’d wake up to you making breakfast for him—you told him that you enjoy cooking when you have the time for it, so Dazai imagines that it would be a rare treat.

Like today.

But still, he can’t help but wonder why today? Your phone had been blowing up last night and now… now, it’s sitting on the marble counter, screen dark and not buzzing at all. He glances up at you once to make sure you’re still looking at the stove and then shifts over to the counter quietly, discreetly pressing his finger against the screen to see if your phone is even on and then frowns when he realizes that you did, in fact, turn it off.

What is going on that has you so avoidant that you’d rather turn your phone off than confront it? His mind races to all of the things you’ve been bitching to him about, remembers that you told him you weren’t responding for days because you’d been busy finishing up negotiations with the Shimazaki-kai… is it something new, maybe? But why aren’t you handling it then? It doesn’t make any sense.

Dazai makes his way over to you, feet padding softly against the ground until he’s standing behind you. He slips his arms around your waist and plops his chin onto your shoulder, humming softly as he nudges his nose against your ear before resting the side of his head against yours.

“Good morning,” he says, voice still a bit rough with sleep. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes,” you reply easily and Dazai’s heart swells when you lean back into his chest, fueling the fantasy of his imagined future even more. God, he’s been waiting for the ball to drop since you talked to him out on the cliff’s edge—you can’t keep giving him hope like this, he can feel it blooming in his chest and he knows that there’s going to be something to ruin it because that’s just how his life goes but… “I don’t think they came out good though.”

“I’ll eat them anyway,” Dazai says immediately.

“You’ll probably get food poisoning.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

You do.

Two words, so simple and yet they ring through his head over and over again so loudly. You care. You do care. You implied it last night when you told him you wanted him, that it scares you how bad you want him because of his life being at risk, but you hadn’t out right said it until now and it’s a devastating blow. Fatal, really.

The puff of air he lets out is shaky and when you turn to look at him, confused, he can only barely muster a smile as he asks hesitantly, “You do?”

The last time he asked you this, you changed the subject and evaded answering—he took it as an answer in itself, that you don’t care… but now, he’s let himself hope again, hope that maybe this time your answer will be different. What a treacherous thing, really, because even now he can feel the dark claws of anxiety start tugging at his heart in different directions, yanking it around and stretching it until it’s painful. He thinks it would’ve just been easier to carve it out and hand it over to you.

“I do,” you finally say, voice quiet. “I care.”

Dazai lets out a long breath, one that he hardly recognized he was holding, dropping his forehead down on your shoulder to hide his face against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist as his lips curve up, he presses his lips to your neck but for some reason, he can’t fully discard the dreadful feeling in his chest.

Even with your assurances and finally verbally admitting that you care about him, it’s like he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something to shatter his idyllic paradise. And he has a feeling he knows exactly what will do it. So because Dazai is Dazai and he has been self-destructive since the day he was born, he brings it up.

“Why’s your phone been blowing up?” he asks, keeping his voice deceptively light like he’s just trying to have a normal conversation with you—you don’t fall for it. When you immediately stiffen in his arms, Dazai almost wants to backtrack.

“Nothing important,” you say, voice tight, forcing a smile onto your face as you step away to look up at him. “Nothing to worry about. Want to help me remake the pancakes?”

You use the same tactic Dazai used on you after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment. You’re good too because even though Dazai knows what you’re doing, he still wants to give in. Wants to play domestic with you, make breakfast together and then sit at the table and eat. But he can’t, so while you’re good at using the same tactic that Dazai used against you, you’re ultimately unsuccessful because he doesn’t show you the same grace that you showed him.

“Tell me anyway?” Dazai asks softly. “Even if it’s not important?”

You stare at Dazai for a moment, your lips pressed together and he could imagine the thoughts running through your head—how he’s never satisfied, and how he always has to push you. He can imagine you voicing it again, telling him how it’s always what he wants, but you don’t.

Instead, you shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stressing me out. I would rather just make breakfast with you,” you say.

Your voice becomes a bit more tense and Dazai knows that he should stop pushing, that it would be smart to stop now, but Dazai’s track record for dumb decisions gets longer instead.

“Maybe I can help,” he prods, taking a step closer to you, reaching out to rest his hands faintly on your hips. He nudges his head forward, pushing his nose against yours before smiling softly and pressing his lips to yours. “Tell me, please.”

Let me in.

Dazai’s eyes are big and earnest as he stares down at you, fingers digging just the slightest bit further into your hips. Your expression is unrelenting, much to his distress.

“It’s mafia business,” you finally say.

“You’ve told me about mafia business before.”

You exhale sharply, brushing his hands off of you and taking a step away, and Dazai knows he’s pressing too much—doesn’t even know why he’s pressing because he knows that it’ll shatter the illusion of peace that the past half a day in the beach house has given him.

Maybe that’s what he wants, for it to be ruined before he can get used to it.

You look out the window and don’t speak for a moment. Dazai itches to move closer to you again but his feet are rooted to the ground. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall forward a bit, shaking it as you turn back around to face him.

“Another organization has arrived in Yokohama,” you say, lifting your eyes to meet his. “A dangerous one. The Port Mafia… the executives are meeting to figure out how to handle the situation.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment. “You’re an executive.”

“I am.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“But… why?” Dazai asks, voice hitching at the implications of it, not wanting to get his hopes up but unable to stop himself from it at the same time. “Why are you here?”

You stare at him silently for a moment and then you say quietly, “The call for the meeting came at the same time I got the voicemail from the hospital. I chose to go to you.”

Dazai’s breath catches as he breathes in and shakes terribly as he breathes out, unable to draw his gaze away from you. You… “You chose me,” he whispers.

“I chose you,” you repeat, swallowing as you turn your gaze down. “I did. I chose you.”

“Do you regret it?” Dazai asks softly—he wonders if he hopes you’ll say yes, that you’ll quash his hope before it’s too late.

“No,” you say. “I don’t.”

And Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that. He’s never been wanted before. Never been someone’s first choice. Dazai has always been the one left behind for others, discarded for a better option. His throat is uncomfortably tight and his fingers are shaking a bit, and he doesn’t have pockets to hide them in now so they’re in full view of your vision before he clasps his hands behind his back.

But it’s too late—you’ve already seen it and you’re taking a step closer to him. You reach out to cup his cheek with one of your hands and Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch.

“I don’t regret anything about you, Dazai Osamu,” you say quietly, so honestly that it makes a shiver run down Dazai’s spine, unintentionally letting out a soft noise in the back of his throat that he’s unable to smother. “Not a single thing.”

“Well, that can’t possibly be true,” Dazai tries to joke, to play off how much you’ve rattled him with only a few words, but you aren’t fooled by his tricks.

“It’s true.”

Dazai stares at you, his eyes sting and his fingers are shaking even more than they’d been before. The pads of your fingers burn against his cheek and Dazai thinks you’ve ruined him. You’ve ruined him entirely. You’ve shattered all of his carefully crafted walls, the ones that protect him from situations just like this, the ones that prevent him from being burned just like he has countless times before. You’ve ruined him and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll be able to put himself together again if this ends poorly.

He doesn’t know what to say in response to your words and he can’t handle the way you’re staring at him so intensely, so Dazai decides to change the subject with a shaky smile and a terrifying amount of hope blooming within him.

“Maybe you just need a fresh set of eyes. Tell me about this organization, I can try to help.”

You don’t even know why you’re considering this.

Dazai bounds next to you in the sand chatting about his poetry workship. He still won’t tell you what the project he’s writing on is about but he does seem to be mighty pleased with how it’s coming out since he’s bragging about how his is clearly the best of all of his classmates’ and that he’s sure he’s going to get the best grade on it. It’s cute, you think, a fond smile twitching to the corner of your lips as you watch him from the corner of your eye.

It’s still only mid-morning, the sun paints a pretty glow over the private beach and Dazai looks so… alive beneath it. His smile is bright and genuine, skin flushed and radiant, eyes reminiscent of pools of honey—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so bright before. His fingers thrum excitedly against the book he’s bringing down to the beach with him: The Aeneid—he’s read it before, he very snootily told you when you side-eyed him for grabbing it, he just needs to refresh on it for his creative writing class.

When the two of you get down to the shore, you sit down in the sand right near the water’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. Dazai plops down next to you, pressing his shoulder against yours and you itch to wrap your arm around his waist, slide your hand under the comfy sweatshirt he’s wearing to rub circles over the bandages covering his skin, but your hands stay stiff in your lap as you stare down at the phone resting on your lap.

You have half a mind to toss it right into the bay.

But then Dazai nudges you, waiting for you to start talking, and you sigh, looking back across the bay.

“They call themselves the Guild,” you finally say. You can feel Dazai’s eyes on you, curious, and you think maybe you should quit while you’re ahead but you find yourself speaking anyway. “They’re a kind of… secret society. Based in North America. They’re powerful. A lot of influence throughout the world.”

“Why are they here?” Dazai asks and you can feel the way his face twists as he then adds, “More influence than you?”

You can’t help the amused smile that twitches to your lips at his words. “I’m not the end all of political influence, Dazai,” you tell him, the tension in your shoulders slipping away as you tilt your head to the side to look at him

Dazai gives you a look. “Please, I was at that event. I heard the way people talked about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the most influential person in Japan.”

“Probably the eastern hemisphere,” you correct, quite humbly, snorting as Dazai rolls his eyes. “No, I’m kidding. I have a lot of influence but there are plenty with more than me, especially considering I’m held back by the fact that I can’t make myself a public figure. Having to perpetually work behind the scenes is pretty… crippling.”

“You go to the big government events though,” Dazai frowns. “Those are-”

“Very, very confidential unless certain cockroaches worm their way in and feed information to the public,” you say dryly, watching as Dazai gives you an offended look.

“Did you just call me a cockroach?”

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug.

“My bella hates me,” Dazai sighs whimsically, dropping his head on your shoulder. “She thinks I’m a bug. A cockroach.”

You soften when he comes in contact with you, lifting your hand to cradle the side of his head. Your lips curl up into a small smile when Dazai’s lashes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. You brush your fingers through his hair, choosing your words carefully as you continue to explain what’s going on in spite of your better judgment.

“Anyway, they have more influence than me. I’ve been working all night trying to figure out what to do, pulled as many strings as I can trying to get the government to push them out of Yokohama but they’ve eaten their way right into the heart of Japan. They’ve been granted diplomatic immunity and they’re putting pressure on the government to try to get us—the Port Mafia—and some government agencies that are protesting the invasion of the city to back off. They’re trying to get their hands on a skilled business permit, we don’t know why but…”

“But you have suspicions,” Dazai finishes for you, sitting up straight again to watch you, ever perceptive. “Right?”

You don't respond for a moment as you watch him carefully. Dazai has always been perceptive—you’ve noticed it from early on when you would talk around the truth and he would train that sharp gaze on you, knowing that you were skirting around something but unable to figure out what.

Honestly, it should be concerning. Dazai’s smarter than almost anyone you’ve ever met. He’s sharp and quick—proved it with the way he managed to get his hands on the tapes behind the Tokyo City Hall to get evidence of your mafia affiliation; even proved it before that when he recognized that he had to go about information gathering in a different manner, trying to pin down your political opinions because he knew which sectors supported which opinion and wanted to know which one you were a part of.

“Does it have something to do with me?”

“You’re so conceited, not everything has to do with you.”

Dazai flushes red, scowling at you and physically turning his back to you. “Well forgive me for assuming because you’ve certainly been acting like everything has to do with me.”

You smile as Dazai huffs shifting closer to press your lips against the nape of his neck, arms slipping around his waist. He gives you a dirty look but relaxes back into your chest, leaning into you. You slip your hands beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing them out over the bandages covering his slim torso, feeling the way his breath hitches at your touch.

“They’re here because of something I did,” you finally admit quietly, ignoring as he looks up at you curiously. “One of the boys you met when you came to my apartment the first time… they had a bounty on the black market on him for seven billion yen.”

Dazai chokes, splutters over air as he looks up at you and squeaks out, “Seven billion-why?”

“We don’t know,” you say honestly. “I… didn’t think it was a good sign that they were putting so high of a bounty on a seemingly random ability user. It made me think there was more to it than meets the eye, that it would be… dangerous for us to hand him over to the Guild.”

Dazai’s brows furrow as he nods. “I mean, it makes sense. That much money for a what? Eighteen year old kid? Is his ability special?”

“He can turn into a tiger,” you tell him. “Can’t even control it.”

Dazai sits back up straight again, holding his book in his lap as he turns to face you, crossing his legs together. You feel a bit of fondness bubbling in your chest when you see how quickly he seems to be thinking, you can all but see the gears running swiftly behind his dark eyes.

“Is he the tiger? Is the tiger something of its own sentience? I did a research project on ability users two years ago, mostly I was just reading the studies of how they’re dragged into criminal organizations at a young age, but some of them talked about how some ability users can’t even control their ability because it’s like… a separate consciousness. Maybe it knows something? Or there are parts of his ability that he hasn’t been able to unlock yet?”

Is it sentient? Atsushi hadn’t made any mention of it and you hadn’t thought to ask. It wouldn’t be… unheard of. Dazai is right in that there’s been a record of ability users who claim that their abilities have a consciousness of their own. There’s a member of the SDUP, a higher up in the Family who you met a few years back, and even Chuuya. Arahabaki is its own sentient being within Chuuya, could that be why Atsushi can’t control his ability? You don’t know, you hadn’t really considered it but it’s definitely a possibility, and it would explain the Guild’s desperation to get their hands on him.

“Either way, I mean, I think you were definitely right to keep him close,” Dazai shrugs. “They clearly want him badly for a reason and since it’s not one that can be seen at face value, who knows what it could be.”

“I wish you had been at the meeting where I had to argue with all of them about it,” you say bitterly, still irritated over the hours you spent arguing with the other executives, who were dead set on getting the money from the bounty.

Dazai tilts his head to the side, an unreadable look crossing his face for a second but then he shakes his head and asks, “So political pressure isn’t working?”

“No. I mean, they don’t want the Americans here anymore than any of us but they don’t have a choice. After you fell asleep, I spent most of the night on the phone with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, talked to the US ambassador in Tokyo and asked our ambassador in the US to try to work with their government to get the Guild out of Japan. Got nowhere with it. If something could’ve been done politically to force them out of here, I would’ve gotten it done.”

You even called Tolstoy last night. You don’t like going to outsiders about domestic problems but you feel as if you’re backed into a corner—it’s your fault that the Guild is here and you can’t even do anything to fix it. And now-and now Dazai is at risk too. You have half a mind to keep him locked up in this beach house until you can figure everything out but you doubt that he’d stay in one place and he’s better off at your side than on his own.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head—or maybe not, he probably knows exactly how stressed you are about this. You’ve never been without your phone and you know you’re making a mistake by turning it off now but you just can’t bring yourself to turn it on, dreading whatever messages you might find. Chuuya’s rage at your disappearance, Kouyou’s disapproval and worst of all, Mori’s disappointment.

He would know where you are. Who you’re with. Why you disappeared and why you were unable to fix this before it became a major problem for the Mafia. He promised not to intervene if it didn’t affect Port Mafia business and you let it anyway. You ran to Dazai when you should have gone to the meeting and you can’t even bring yourself to regret it even when you know that you put him in danger, not just from your enemies but also from-

You feel Dazai’s hand brush your cheek as he reaches out, brows knit in concern as he looks at you and you realize that your breath has quickened noticeably, shallow and uneven. You try to calm yourself down but it only makes your heart rate spike more because you can’t figure out why you’re unable to get yourself under control.

“Hey,” Dazai says quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, but he sounds like he’s underwater. Or you’re underwater. Something isn’t right—you know what isn’t right, you know what’s happening but you can’t stop it. “Hey, it’s okay-”

It’s not okay. It’s very much not okay. Your fingers dig into the sand, the small grains getting stuck beneath your fingernails as you try to physically ground yourself. You never should have started talking about this with him—you’d known it was going to force you to confront everything you’ve been avoiding the past few hours, your failure and incapability but he asked you and you couldn’t-

You couldn’t say no.

You need to-

“You need to make them want to go back.”

You’re so caught off guard by Dazai’s words that it startles you right out of your spiral. Your gaze focuses on him and you watch as he starts to light up, excited. His hands drop to your wrists, holding them gently as he urges you to pay attention to him.

“You need to make them want to go back,” he repeats, faster this time. “You can’t force them, so you have to make them choose to go on their own.”

You shake your head, still unsteady from your sudden bout of panic. You briefly shut your eyes and then say quietly, “Dazai, that’s a lot easier said than done. How-”

“The best defense is a good offense,” Dazai quotes at you, nearly vibrating. “Counterattack, do something to make them have to go back to America.”

Oh.

Oh my god.

“Oh my god,” you voice out loud, little over a breath. “Oh my god. Octavio.”

“Who?” Dazai blinks, staring at you as you fumble to turn your phone back on.

“Octavio Paz,” you say hurriedly, willing your phone to turn back on. “He’s the leader of one of Mexico’s biggest cartels, has been trying to expand his foothold into the central parts of the US for years but one of the Guild members—Twain, maybe, Steinbeck, one of them—they always prevented it. If I can get him to do something now-”

You’re stupid, you’re so stupid for not thinking of this sooner. Mori has always taught you it—the one that strikes the first blow wins the battle—you should’ve had Octavio Paz making movements in the US as soon as you decided to keep Atsushi with the Port Mafia. As soon as you were considering keeping Atsushi with the Port Mafia. You were stupid and you let the Guild make the opening move of the game, and now it could cost you.

But if you can act fast enough then maybe…

As your phone finally starts to turn on, you look back up at Dazai.

“I could kiss you,” you breathe out, watching his face light up at your approval.

You almost find yourself a bit suspicious of how quickly he came to this conclusion, how naturally this thought process seemed to come to him. You had been struggling trying to figure out what to do and you have over a decade of experience now—you were too focused on the fact that they were already here, so focused on the defense that you were scrambling and blinded to the prospect of an offense. And yes, it might’ve just been stupidity on your part—stupidity and carelessness, that is—but Dazai is a twenty-two year old literature student, how the hell was he able to figure it out in a span of a handful of minutes while you’ve been so lost?

“What’s stopping you?” Dazai prods, leaning forward.

His eyes are wide and imploring, a warm golden color beneath the rays of the sun; his lips are curved up into a sweet smile and you let all of your suspicions wash away. You reach forward to cup his cheek, watching as he immediately presses his face into your hand, eyes sliding shut as he brushes his lips to your palm before looking back up at you, expectant.

You lean in and graze your lips against his but just as you consider deepening the kiss, you notice that your phone screen has finally flickered on, so you lean back, not catching the way Dazai’s face instantly falls.

“I’m going to go make a few calls—I have to head back to the house to grab my laptop. You want to come in or stay out here for a bit?” you ask absently as you rise to your feet.

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit,” he says quietly. “Hopefully everything works out.”

You don’t respond as you make your way up the beach back to the house, wincing as you see a spam of nearly forty messages from Chuuya, a dozen from Piano Man, and a handful from Kouyou come in.

Worse, there’s not a single message or missed call from Mori.

A few hours later, you’re sitting with Dazai on the couch in the beach house watching a movie. He’s resting back against your chest, your arms loose around his waist—you think he’s falling asleep actually, every time you look down, his eyes are drooping shut but then snap back open whenever he realizes that you’re looking down at him.

You’re being spammed with calls again now that your phone is back on—both Chuuya and Piano Man have been calling and texting incessantly. You think they’re taking turns, honestly, when one isn’t calling, the other is. You had to put their numbers on do not disturb but you did reach out to Klaus and Akutagawa, giving them quick orders to do what they can to fuck with the Guild.

Now, you’re waiting for a text from Paz to confirm he’s made the necessary movements into the central parts of the US—you had to redirect a weapons shipment from South America up to Paz and his men, so you have to compensate for that with Machado down in Brazil, but he’s always been easily appeased. You’ll just have to take a trip down there some time soon to wine and dine him as an apology.

As soon as you get the confirmation from him, you can put your phone away and just spend the night relaxing with Dazai. Maybe try to figure out what’s going on in this movie. Honestly, neither of you are even really watching the movie so you don’t even know why it’s playing but it’s nice background noise at the very least.

“Can I ask you something?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments, playing with your fingers and tilting his head up against your shoulder to look at you.

“You have no idea how much I dread those words coming from you,” you say dryly. “Go ahead. Ask.”

Dazai pouts at your words but there’s a serious look in his eyes that has you on edge, a bit concerned to what he might want to ask you.

“What did Chuuya mean the other night?” Dazai asks after a few moments, as if trying to figure out how he wants to phrase his question. When you only give him a confused look in return, he adds on, “He said that you couldn’t save someone last time. That this time wouldn’t be any different.”

Immediately, you stiffen and Dazai straightens up from where he’s sitting to turn to look at you, concerned. “I don’t-” you start to say, voice strained and tongue heavy in your mouth. “I-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Dazai tells you, seemingly a bit taken aback by how you’re struggling for words. “It’s okay. I was just wondering.”

You think you should take the out given to you because even just the thought of talking about what happened two years ago with Chuuya and his girl and the Serpent’s Tongue. Even after all of the time that’s passed, the image of Chuuya hunched over her body is still burned behind your eyelids. You still wake up gasping and sweaty with the sound of Chuuya’s screams still ringing through your ears. There are still days where the guilt of what happened is so crushing that you can hardly breathe.

“Chuuya… he was dating a civilian two years ago,” you find yourself speaking instead but your voice sounds distant, like you’re not talking but instead listening to someone else talk. You don’t even register that your lips are moving, they feel numb and prickly but the words tumble from your lips. “She was our age, a year older maybe. In her third year of university, on track for med school—I think she went to YNU actually. She wanted to be a doctor. I only met her a few times, but Chuuya never shut up about her, would brag about her to anyone who would listen.”

You sit up straight, smoothing your hands up and down against the skin of your thighs a few times anxiously. Your tongue feels weighted, you can hardly bring yourself to continue; you don’t want to continue so you don’t know why you’re trying to force yourself. Dazai’s gaze is so intense that you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him, you keep your eyes trained on your lap even as he reaches out to entwine his fingers with yours.

“How did they meet?” Dazai prods curiously, purposely trying to steer the conversation to a lighter topic when he hears the way your voice wavers.

“He was stupid,” you say, the wry smile that tugs to your lips is a bit more genuine. You pause and then amend, “We were both stupid when we were twenty—thought we were untouchable—but Chuuya especially. Was a bit too arrogant on a mission and got three bullets in the back because of it. He dragged himself out of the warehouse they were ambushed in and into an alley—she was coming back from a late night class and ran into him. Took him back to her place and patched him up, he couldn’t move for three weeks and he didn’t have his phone on him. I went crazy looking for him, thought he was dead or worse, captured.”

Crazy might be understating it, honestly. In the three weeks Chuuya was missing, you all but upended the entire Mafia. There was no information on who the assailants had been, the entire warehouse had burned to the ground and the only three survivors were comatose, so you orchestrated the end of five different organizations that had been pressing their luck in Mafia territory, hoping that one of them had been the culprit.

Realistically, you had known that if any of the organizations had captured Chuuya, they would have made it known that they had him, but you’d been so viciously angry that you hadn’t even cared in the moment… and you had thought at the time, that if he wasn’t captured, he was almost definitely dead, so you hadn’t wanted to consider the alternative as an actual option.

“But no, he was with a civilian girl who knew damn well from the wounds and his outfit what he was involved with but still decided to help him,” you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “She was just as stupid as us, I guess.”

“How did you meet her?” Dazai asks curiously. “Did Chuuya introduce you?”

Your smile softens a bit at the edges as you pull his hand into your lap, tracing along the lines of his palm and up his fingers. “Nah, Chuuya tried to keep her out of this as much as possible. Talked all about her but never brought her around, was careful to never give up too much information about her to people he didn’t fully trust.”

You sigh, gaze drifting from his hand over to the window, watching absently as the wind smacks a tree branch against the glass. You think there must be a storm rolling in—you’d noticed that the skies were getting cloudy before the sun had set earlier but you hadn’t thought anything of it. You hope it doesn’t knock the power out—you don’t think this place has a generator.

“I only met her by chance—was in the area with Klaus handling a small gang that was causing trouble for civilians because I had nothing better to do. I get there and lo and behold, they’ve got Chuuya’s girl backed in an alley. We got there before they could do anything but she was shaken, obviously. Was sweet though, she recognized me from pictures Chuuya has, invited both me and Klaus back to her apartment and made us tea. Chuuya flew across the city when I texted him, crashed right through the window.”

Your lips quirk up into another smile as you remember the way that Chuuya had quite literally crashed through her window, panicked and furious that some lowlives had tried to fuck with her. The way she spent thirty minutes shouting at him for breaking her window and forcing him to go replace it before he even had himself oriented.

Dazai snorts and then quietly asks the dreaded question, “What happened to her?”

“We were stupid,” you repeat, softer this time. “Thought we were untouchable. Chuuya—he’s the strongest ability user in the world—and I’m set to take over the strongest mafia in the eastern hemisphere. No one would dare try to attack either of us because they know it’s futile—a death wish. And we… forgot that the people we love aren’t as protected. That there are people out there who would do anything to try to cripple us if given the chance.”

Your throat swells, an uncomfortable lump forming as you stare ahead blankly, the movie still playing but none of it processing through your brain. You don’t even know what’s happening on it, all you can see are indecipherable blobs moving on the screen. Dazai doesn’t press you to continue but you can still feel him looking at you and the way he squeezes your hand, so you take in a deep breath before continuing.

“It was a Thursday night. Chuuya was meeting her on campus to bring her out of the city for the weekend as a surprise. She never walked out of the building her class was in and when he asked around, they said she never showed up. He went to her apartment to check on her because he realized something was up and the whole place was trashed—blood everywhere, windows shattered, they even killed one of her fucking cats. Chuuya called me but he couldn’t even speak properly, I tracked him to her apartment and realized what had happened.”

He had her other cat in his lap, you remember, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Was kneeling in her blood next to the other one with the living one curled in his lap, licking his wrist as if begging him to get up and snap out of it. You’d never seen him like that before—face so pale that he looked bloodless, eyes wide and haunted, not processing anything around him—he was usually good in emergencies, never froze up, always moved forward. He didn’t even fight Klaus and Akutagawa when you told them to get him to your apartment, to not let anyone see him like this.

“I… he wasn’t in the right state to lead or plan an operation, so I did. I took over,” you say quietly, “and I failed.”

It wasn’t your first failure. Itou’s death was your fault no matter how much people try to convince you otherwise. Even if the information you’d been given wasn’t accurate, you still should’ve been quicker on your feet. You’ve circled the what-ifs in your head over and over again, there were so many routes you could’ve taken but you’d frozen up in the face of a situation out of your control and it cost Itou his life.

Wasn’t your first failure, but it was the first that had been entirely in your control. You took too long to figure out who had her, took too long to get the Black Lizards organized, by the time you got to their base, she’d already been dead.

“They were called the Serpent’s Tongue. A younger organization that had been based in Kyoto before they came to Yokohama. We hadn’t been taking them seriously,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “Should have been, obviously. By the time I’d figured out who had her and where they were… Chuuya was demanding to come with us, wanted to be the first face she saw after getting her out of there. Wouldn’t budge on it. We got there and they left her head for us to find. Chuuya had barged into the room first and…”

You still hear the way he screamed her name in your nightmares, still see how he’d fallen to his knees. He’d unleashed corruption in his grief, devastating the area and nearly killing you with it—when you pulled him out of it, he told you that you should’ve let it take him. You let out a heavy breath, gaze drifting to the side again.

“I don’t have a good track record for saving people,” you say quietly. “I don’t… her death destroyed Chuuya. And if you… if something happens to you now when I know better…”

You’d never recover from it. Never.

“... That’s why you were so mad,” Dazai realizes after a few moments. When you give him a confused look, he elaborates. “The day we got my suit tailored and I texted you.”

You snort. “I had Chuuya on standby and was about to put the Mafia’s equivalent of the special ops on standby because I thought you were in trouble.”

Dazai flushes bright red. “I didn’t know,” he complains. “How was I supposed to know?”

Your lips curve up into a fond smile as you reach out for him, beckoning him to come back over to you. He pouts but he crawls back over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you back until you’re laying on the couch so that he can lay right on top of you, burying his face in your chest. You bring one hand up to cradle the back of his head, the other sliding down to his back to hold him close to you.

You feel his lips pull up into a smile as he tilts his head up, big brown eyes peeking up at you, a soft brown under the dim lighting of the room, sweet and adoring. You’ve never had someone look at you that way in your life—like you’re something worth being treasured, someone to treat gently. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans up to brush his lips against your jaw and-

And you think you love him.

The thought is so jarring that you almost physically flinch as soon as it crosses your mind. You only realize something’s wrong when you notice that Dazai’s eyes shot open in surprise and instantly, your mouth floods with ash.

No way.

“What?” he breathes out.

“What?” you echo, voice flat.

“What did you just say?” he asks, a bit more rushed, eyes bright but expression hesitant—as if he’s trying to not get his hopes up but can’t help himself. “Tell me what you said. Say it again.”

You have half a mind to deny it but Dazai just looks so… he looks so happy. Hopeful. Like you’ve told him something that he never expected anyone to ever say to him. So all you can do is steel yourself and clear your throat as you say quietly: “I think I love you.”

Dazai doesn’t respond; he stares at you and you think he’s hardly even breathing. His eyes rapidly search your face, desperately trying to figure out if you’re telling him the truth or not and when he finds his answer, he looks entirely devastated, as if you’ve taken his world and ripped it right out from under him.

“I’m not someone made to be loved,” he tells you, voice so quiet that you barely even hear it. His fingers clutch your shirt tightly like he’s scared to let go of you.

Your smile softens. “Yet here I am.”

“You’ll regret it,” Dazai says shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows. “You will.”

A part of you wants to tell him no, that if anyone ends up regretting anything, it will be him—that if anyone isn’t made for love, it’s you—but you don’t have it in you. You raise your hand to cup his cheek, watching as his lashes flutter shut; you lift your other hand to brush his hair back behind his ear.

“I won’t,” you tell him quietly.

“You will,” he insists. “You really will. I-”

“I won’t,” you say again, firmer this time, and Dazai lets out a noise in the back of his throat, dropping down to lay flat against you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

His lashes are wet, you can feel the dampness against your skin, and you can also feel how hot his face is. You smile as your hand slides to the back of his head again, absently playing with the dark locks as you tilt your head to the side and kiss his temple.

Dazai takes in a wet, ragged breath at the casual and unexpected action. You can feel his shoulders shake as he tries to regain control of himself and your free hand rests between his shoulder blades, thumb drawing circles against his skin.

“What happened to the cat?” Dazai suddenly asks after a few moments of him trying to settle down, voice cracking and wavering over the words as he desperately tries to change the subject to something that doesn’t have him on the verge of collapse.

“The cat?”

“The cat, the one that lived. What happened to it?” he asks more insistently, not bothering to even look up from where he’s hiding his face against you.

“Oh.” You realize what he’s talking about. “Chuuya took it in.”

Dazai makes a sharp noise of disgust. “Gross,” he complains. “He doesn’t even seem like a cat person.”

You can’t help the puff of laughter that escapes your lips. “What is your problem with him?” you ask. “You’ve had it out for him from day one.”

Dazai sniffs. “I just don’t like him, that’s all,” he says defensively. “I don’t need a reason.”

“Sure,” you agree, amused. “Whatever you say.”

Dazai lights up suddenly at your words. “Whatever I say?” he prods, finally lifting his face to look up at you, eyes gleaming. You give him a suspicious look but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return.

“Nothing,” he sings without you even needing to say anything, making you even more suspicious, but then he lays back down on top of you, nudging his nose against the side of your face. You feel him smile against your skin, he kisses your cheek once, twice and then a third time before settling back down. “Let’s watch Despicable Me.”

“No.”

“You said whatever I say-”

“No!”

“Are you asleep?”

Dazai pouts as he nudges you gently—he’s been wide awake for over an hour now and he knows he shouldn’t bother you considering you didn’t sleep the night before, but he still finds himself seeking out your company. He’s half laying on top of you, head resting on your shoulder as he continues to bop his forehead against your chin to wake you up.

The two of you had gone back to the bedroom a few hours ago and you’d fallen asleep pretty quickly. Dazai had dozed off for a bit too, but he found himself startled awake by a particularly loud cracking noise from outside, a tree toppling over from the wind probably, and now he couldn’t fall back asleep.

And a Dazai left with only his own mind as company is not a good Dazai.

He tried to distract himself with you for a bit. Watched you sleep for a while—creepy as it is, he found peace in watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft puffs of air that left your lips, how every time he tried to pull away from you, your brows would furrow and your arms would tighten around him. He’s never had someone who wanted him before, much less someone who wanted him so genuinely and unconditionally that even in their sleep, they seek him out and want him close. He didn’t even know what to think of it, honestly, a part of him was still waiting for you to start laughing and telling him that this is all some big joke.

I think I love you.

His breath shakes the same way it does every time your words echo through his head, fingers trembling from where he’s running them up and down your arm softly.

Love. Love. Love.

You love him. Him. Someone who can hardly function on an everyday basis, someone who has to wrap himself up in bandages because he’s embarrassed of what lies beneath them, someone who has only ever had death and misfortune follow him around his entire life. You love him even though you’ve listened to him fumble over words like a fool because he gets tongue tied in your presence, you love him even though he blackmailed you into giving him a chance because he was that desperate for your attention, you love him even though you had to pick him up at the hospital after a failed suicide attempt because he has no one else in his life to call.

You love him. Him. You love him in spite of all of his flaws—and he knows very well there are a lot of them. You love him in spite of all of the pushback from the people around you. You love him in spite of the fact that your world is completely different from his, in spite of the fact that you could do so much better than him, in spite of the fact that Dazai is Dazai and you’re you and you’re so far out of his league that Dazai doesn’t even think he should be breathing the same air as you, much less curling up next to you in bed. Even though it puts so much at risk—your life, your occupation, everything—you love him still and Dazai just can’t understand it.

And Dazai loves you.

He does. He thinks he’s known it since the beginning, since that day at the school library when you came over because he was sitting all alone at a table that was clearly meant for a group of individuals and not just one, when you realized something was bothering him so you gave him your name even though he had been rude to you when he got embarrassed over having no friends. Since that day at his apartment complex when you showed up to deal with his shitty landlord; he’d made a joke about how you should waive his rent, not expecting anything of it, and you did. Since you rushed to him while he was at the men’s warehouse—he’d thought it was odd that you seemed so irritated by his dramatics trying to get you to come to him, but now that he knew it was because you thought he was in trouble, thought he was in danger and rushed to him like he was the only thing that mattered even back then…

Dazai loves you, and he didn’t tell you when you told him—he wants to tell you even though the thought of pushing those words out of his mouth terrifies him, so he returns to trying to wake you up.

“Wake up,” Dazai complains quietly, booping his forehead against your chin again. “Wake up, wake up, wake-”

“What’s wrong?” you finally ask through a yawn, voice rough with sleep as you shift a bit. One of your hands comes up to run your fingers through his hair and Dazai hums at the feeling, eyes drooping shut again as he sinks back into your chest. “Dazai?”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly, “... will you call me Osamu?”

Your fingers still in their steady strokes through his hair and for a split second, Dazai thinks that he misstepped. But then, you lean your head down to press your lips against his forehead and he can only let out a shaky breath, nuzzling his face into your body.

“Osamu,” you repeat, voice soft and a bit more awake—and god, the sound of his given name leaving your lips is almost heavenly, he thinks.

He can’t remember the last time someone called him by his first name, his aunt was probably the last and it was her screaming at him to get out of his car before she left him to die in Suribachi. It’s an unpleasant memory, and he thinks that maybe he’s only been able to associate his given name with unpleasantness because of it, but this… it makes him feel light and cozy, like the warmth of a hearth surrounding him after spending years alone in the cold wilderness. He thinks he could hear you say his name a million times and never tire of this feeling.

“Osamu, tell me what’s wrong. Why’d you wake me up?”

His lips part to say the three words he planned on saying but they wither and die on his tongue when his eyes meet yours. Even with your words ringing through his head, he can’t bring himself to say it. And it’s silly. It’s silly because he’s scared that if he says it, it’ll be the trigger the gods need to finally rip you away from him—everything he never wants to lose is always lost the moment he obtains it, it’s true, he told you this and he’s been treading such a fine line and he’s terrified that speaking those three words out loud will be enough for the twisted gods above to finally rip the rug out from under his feet.

So, he doesn’t say it.

“Osamu,” you frown—he’ll never tire of it, he has half a mind to ask you to say it over and over and over again, doesn’t care if it makes him seem crazy. “What’s going on?”

He needs to say something—the longer he sits here evading answering, the more concerned you’re going to get, and the more concerned you get, the harder it’s going to be to lie. Dazai’s throat spasms as he instead broaches a different topic that has been bothering him for a few weeks.

“Are you attracted to me?”

It has been a rather persistent thought in the back of his head, even more so since the two of you spoke at the cliff yesterday. At first, he thought maybe it was just because you didn’t really want him—that you were trying to evade any physical intimacy with him because he was backing you into a corner and you were uncomfortable.

But now? Knowing that you do want him? He doesn’t have any other explanation than the fact that maybe you just aren’t attracted to him… and he’s not sure he can blame you. Who would be attracted to someone who hardly takes care of himself and wraps himself in bandages like a mummy?

You stare at him for a moment, expression too blank for comfort before your brows begin to furrow. The longer you take to respond, the more embarrassed Dazai is.

“What?” you finally ask, voice stunted and perplexed.

Dazai’s face heats up, regretting his words immediately.

He should have just told you what he wanted to say originally.

“Nevermind,” he says, rolling over so that his back is to you, not wanting you to see his red face. “Forget it.”

“Hey, no,” you say, suddenly sounding all too awake and Dazai squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to crawl into a ditch and die. “Osamu, what? What are you even talking about? How is that even a question?”

He feels you sit up in the bed next to him and pointedly lays on his stomach to bury his face in the pillow to try to hide himself even as you shift to look over at him. It’s to no avail because you’re a brute and decide to just grab his shoulder to forcibly roll him back onto his back. Dazai scowls up at you, face still aflame.

“Don’t manhandle me,” he grumbles, averting his gaze but you only shift right back into his line of vision, frowning. “Stop, it’s nothing. Forget it. Really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you say, reaching out to cup his cheek and Dazai thinks you’re entirely unfair because he is simply too weak to your touch so he can already feel himself giving in when you look at him with a slight frown and say, “Tell me.”

Dazai huffs. He huffs and he bristles like an irritated cat, he scowls up at you for forcing him to explain himself and then his shoulders slump in defeat.

How embarrassing.

“I just… have tried to… initiate things and you… don’t ever… want to?”

Dazai thinks a gun in the mouth might be kinder than this.

And then-

And then you have the nerve to laugh at him. Or, you don’t laugh but you smile and you look like you’re about to laugh, so Dazai jerks up into a sitting position, offended. Your hand falls from his face and instantly, he’s yearning for your touch again.

“You’re laughing at me,” he accuses, voice dripping with disbelief. “You just laughed at me when I was opening up to you.”

“No,” you say and then laugh. You laugh and Dazai stares at you in abject horror. “No, I’m not laughing at you.”

“You’re laughing at me right now,” Dazai squawks. “You’re-I can’t believe you’re laughing at me.”

“Osamu,” you say, smile softening as you look at him. You reach out again, fingers brushing his skin before your palm settles against his cheek again, thumb so close to the corner of his lips. Dazai’s breath hitches, lashes fluttering as his eyes meet yours. “I knew that if we started something, I wouldn’t be able to stop. So I didn’t want to let it start. I… still thought you’d be better off away from me, out of this life, and I wouldn’t have been able to let go if I let anything happen between us.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment, processing the words, and then confirms, “... So you are attracted to me?”

“Yes,” you say, unbearably amused. “Very.”

“... But why?” Dazai asks quietly, voice a bit too vulnerable for his liking.

“What do you mean why?”

He clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling as he says, “I’m not anything special, y’know?” He’s careful to keep his voice light and airy, void of all of the insecurity that’s been ripping him apart since the two of you met. “I just don’t get it. You could have anyone you want—literally—so why me?”

You click your tongue and Dazai hears you shift around again, breath catching when you sit yourself right on his lap, lifting both hands to his face now to force him to look at you. With his face settled between your hands and your body flush to his, Dazai has no choice but to meet your gaze head on and he almost dies at the intense look in your eyes, can hardly breathe.

“Do you want me to show you why?” you hum with a teasing smile.

Dazai inhales sharply, eyes widening at the offer. His lips part to respond but no words leave them, so he just nods. You’re not pleased with that response, clearly, from how you raise your eyebrows.

“Yes,” he rasps out. “Show me. Prove that you want me. Please.”

You don’t even waste a second before you’re leaning in to press your lips against his. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut and his breath hitches as you press him back against the plush pillows of the bed. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the rough bandages covering his body that are probably prickling your skin uncomfortably, of his chapped lips and hair that’s a bit too dry because he never properly washes it.

“The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes,” you say quietly, pulling away from him so your gaze could meet his. He tries to chase your lips but you don’t let him. “I could hardly look away from them. I tried to walk away from you that night at the bar but every time I looked at you, I found myself lost in them.”

Dazai’s throat spasms, face flushing. “Don’t lie,” he tells you, voice hoarse. “Nobody likes my…”

Too wide. Too black. Too empty. Dull. Hollow. Soulless. All things he’s heard people say about his eyes—no one can ever look him in the eyes for too long before they find themselves uncomfortable.

“I’m not lying,” you say with a soft smile, there’s almost a wistful look in your eyes as you continue. “Right now, they remind me of the night sky, dark and endless, filled with countless glittering stars… I love the stars… They remind me of home.”

Dazai chews on his bottom lip as he stares up at you; he tries to speak but again, he finds himself unable to. You don’t force him to this time though, bringing your hand back to his cheek and running your thumb over his bottom lip as if to stop him from biting at it.

“Under the sun, they’re gold,” you tell him quietly. “The first time I noticed, it was the day we met at the ports. Sunset. You were standing right at the opening of the alley I’d been waiting in with Klaus and the sun hit you just right. You looked so pretty beneath it that I was almost tongue-tied. If we hadn't been interrupted, I would’ve made a fool of myself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Dazai’s voice wobbles terribly. “You-”

“I’m not,” you murmur. Dazai’s breath shakes as you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips. This time, instead of going back to his lips, you kiss down to his jaw slowly. “The second thing I noticed about you was your smile.”

Too fake. Too teethy. Too strained. Unnatural looking.

“Not the fake one you love to put on,” you say, nipping his skin gently. “Your real one. I got a glimpse of it that day at the cafe—the second time we met—when you realized I’d actually been listening to you that night at the bar. But I really saw it that day at Kido’s when we started talking about poetry… I don’t even think you realized you were smiling, the corners of your lips were curved up and your expression was just so… soft. Peaceful. You looked happy and I think that was the first time I really realized that a large majority of the time you put on a mask when you’re around people.”

When you kiss down to the edge of the bandages around his neck, Dazai thinks you’ll ask him to take them off and he braces himself for the question. Braces himself for the discomfort of being bare in front of someone for the first time… ever maybe, because it’s not like he can say no if you ask him to take them off after he badgered you into this.

But you don’t. You kiss over the bandages as if they’re not even there, you tug at his shirt to get him to lift his arms up for you to pull it off and when you do, you continue kissing down his chest—over the bandages—and don’t even show the slightest bit of discontent about it.

“You’ve seen through me… since all the way back then?” Dazai swallows thickly when your hands rest on his slim waist, breath quickening. “But then why…”

Why did you stay?

“That day at the boutique… I was supposed to cut you off,” you admit quietly, sitting back on his thighs as your hands rest on his hips, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, but you don’t move to pull them off. Dazai’s body is uncomfortably hot, head frighteningly fuzzy, he can only barely bring himself to listen to your words. “My first thought when I realized that I’d gotten my first glimpse behind your mask was that I wanted to see more of you, wanted to see you smile genuinely, wanted to learn more about you, I wanted you. I’d realized I let it go too far—that I was starting to actually fall for you and I was putting you in danger—but even then, I couldn’t do it.”

His breath shakes as he breathes in and out, fingers digging into your thighs. He parts his lips to say something but you continue before he can.

“I spoke to Chuuya that same night—he told me that this had to stop, that I was going to get you killed. The next time we met was at the ports. One of the Port Mafia’s enemies had seen us together,” you say, expression a bit more serious now. “Klaus killed him. I had the entire organization exterminated that same night.”

Dazai thinks that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. His heart rate spikes at your words, breath quickening and that pool of heat in his lower abdomen gets impossibly hotter, his mind almost entirely shatters at what you’re saying. Your grip on his hips tightens just a bit, lips pressed together as you look down at him with an unreadable expression.

“I would do terrible things for you, Dazai Osamu,” you tell him softy. “I have done terrible things for you and I would do them again and again and again.”

“Please,” Dazai breathes out, and he’s not even sure what he’s saying please for, but you do.

You do. As always, Dazai is seen when he’s with you and he can’t help the whimper that spills from his lips, the way his eyes mist over with tears. Dazai is seen and he is loved and-and he’s happy. He’s happy—really, truly happy for the first time since Odasaku’s death.

You lean down to kiss Dazai again—this kiss is sloppier than the last few, a frantic clashing of teeth as your hands slide down his body to pull his sweatpants off. Dazai lifts his hips to help you get them off of him, his own fingers clumsily tugging at your silk shorts to try to yank them off of you.

Once he gets them off, his hands drop down to your hips, pulling you down so that you’re sitting flush against him. He moans into your mouth when he finally gets the friction he’s so desperately been aching for, grinding his clothed cock against your panties. He feels almost dizzy with need, lips sliding messily against yours, nails digging crescents into your hips. He thinks maybe he might be able to cum just from this and the thought is embarrassing but he can’t even stop the way he’s rocking his hips up.

Your lips trail from his down to his neck and Dazai tosses his head back against the pillow when your teeth scrape against his skin before you bite down hard, a lewd moan escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps again, voice breaking over the only word he seems to be capable of saying. “Please.”

You lean forward as you reach between your bodies to ease his cock out of his briefs and Dazai nearly cums on the spot when he feels your fingers wrap around him, fingers sliding against the precum dripping down his length. You rest your forehead against his, lips dragging across his cheek back to his lips as you press the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He almost says it in that moment—foreheads pressed together, sharing the same sliver of air, both of you breathing shakily as his tip just barely sinks into you—those three words, he almost says them. They almost slip out when his gaze meets yours and he sees the soft, enamored expression on your face as you look down at him.

Dazai’s eyes knock back when you sink down on his cock, lips parted in a silent moan, vision white. For a terrifying moment, Dazai thinks he might’ve cum just from the feeling of your walls warm and tight around his cock. His whole body trembles, his head feels foggy and garbled—he’s speaking, he realizes, but he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He can feel his lips moving, can hear something leaving them, but he’s so out of it that he can’t even process what it is.

You nip at his lips once, then twice, before you trail kisses to his ear, savoring in the way he shivers when you tug at his earlobe. You only start to rock your hips when your lips get to that spot behind his ear that makes him entirely incoherent. You suck and nip at the skin as you roll your hips slowly, each drag of his cock against your walls makes him choke over moans.

He’s not going to last long, he realizes absently, unable to even be mortified by the thought considering how focused he is on your body, warm and flush against his. His hands are moving sliding up your body to your chest, back down your body to your ass—he doesn’t even know what to do with them, honestly, wants to touch every part of you all at the same time, wants to make you feel half as good as you’re making him feel but he can’t even think with your lips sucking at his skin and your cunt squeezing his cock.

His moan breaks suddenly, cracking and quavering as it slips into a sob. His breath is ragged and shuddered, and his vision swims. He feels his cheeks wet and your hands leave from where they’re braced on his shoulders to cup his cheeks.

Your thumbs wipe away the tears spilling down his cheeks, you lean down to ghost your lips against his temple, and your voice is soft, so soft as you whisper, “I know, baby, I’ve got you. Let go.”

And he does. The taut cord in his abdomen tightens impossibly more before snapping, his nails drag down your thighs, leaving long red marks, his hips snap up and he tosses his head back against the pillows. One of your hands slides from his cheek to wrap around his neck firmly and Dazai is gone—his vision goes dark and spotty, a choked cry of your name escapes his lips and Dazai cums so hard that he thinks he blacks out momentarily.

You lean down and press your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as your walls spasm around him. Dazai’s breath is sharp and quick, lashes wet and heavy, his body twitches and trembles as you ride out your high on his spent cock. He can feel you panting against his skin, your lips sliding from his to press against his cheek as you try to catch your breath.

And Dazai thinks he could stay like this forever, basking in your presence, the feeling of your body pressed to his, his cock still snug in your cunt and one of your hands cradling his face while the other cups the side of his neck, fingers absently playing with the ends of his matted hair. Your forehead rests against his cheek, savoring his presence just as much as he is yours.

He feels warm, he feels safe, he feels loved.

He feels loved.

You shift back just enough to look him in the eye, close enough so that your nose is still brushing his, that you’re still sharing air. Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and your eyes are soft and adoring as you look down at him. As you admire him.

“I could give you countless reasons as to why I want you,” you finally say quietly, “but when it comes down to it, the main reason is because you’re you, Osamu.”

He feels loved.

Your weekend paradise with Dazai shatters with a single message not even six hours later.

Chuuya: I need you. Going to use Corruption.

smut development: minimal besides some dialogue. she told him that when she saw through his mask, her first desire was wanting to see/know more of him. also tells him what happened after she met him at the ports (ie. having the yakuza exterminated). tells him: i'd do terrible things for you - i have done terrible things for you and i would do them again. then at the very end, she tells him that the reason she wants you is because she's him.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs smut

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livinggxd3adgirl · 2 months ago

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synopsis— this is a part 2 of “what’s that supposed to mean?”

a/n— I did not expect so many people to like the first part and want a 2nd part .I thought it was going to going to flop. But thank you guys sm! As always there may be errors so pls forgive me. Likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!

It had been about 2 weeks since you left gojo. You had been staying at his best friends, geto’s house. You were wearing getos clothes nice all of your was at your apartment that gojo is currently living in. Gojo had called you a few times, but you never answered. You weren’t sure what he wanted with you, but frankly, you didn't care what he had to say. You sat on the sugurus couch. The house filled with silence. All you could hear was the sound of your beating heart. Your mind ran through what happened that night over and over again until you couldn't even remember your own name.

you were snapped out of your thoughts about gojo when you heard the door click open and getos soft voice. "Hey .. im back, I brought us some food. " Geto had been trying to comfort you with all your favorite foods and just be by your side during this hard time.

"Thanks, suguru.. really, " you gave him a weak smile. Suguru set down his keys before he set the bag of food down on the coffee table in front of you.

"Listen.. I know that you're still heart broken about gojo and all, but he's coming here later. He said he wanted to talk to me about something. " he sounded reluctant to tell you that Gojo was coming and for good reason.

You nod your head as he spoke. He sucked in a deep breath before you spoke. Your throat was itchy because of all the crying you have been doing for the past 2 weeks. "I understand geto, ill leave after I eat." Your weak smile pulled at Geto's heart strings. He truly couldn't reason why he even let you stay so long. Geto felt bad for you, of course, but there was something else he felt for you, but he just couldn't understand what it was.

Before geto could stop himself, he quickly spoke, "You dont have to leave, sweetheart..." he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "You can stay in my bedroom while he's here. I can't fathom letting that idiot drive you out of here, too. " You finally let out a real smile as you sniffle. For the first time in 2 weeks, you felt like you finally had someone that was on your side.

"Should we eat?" You ask whike smiling. Geto, let's go of your hand as he starts working the bag open.

2 HOURS LATER

You and geto had eaten and watched movies for a while before gojo texted suguru he was in his way. "Stay here, sweetheart. I'll come get you myself, " Geto reassured you as he gave your shoulder a soft squeeze.

"I'll be here waiting.. and geto thank you, really I'm very grateful for everything you have done for me. " Geto couldn't fathom how stupid Gojo was for letting someone like you out of his sight. God, if you were his, he would never let you leave his apartment.

Sugurus train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. He quickly said his goodbyes and answered his front door.

You sat on Getos bed and stared at the closed bedroom door. The mere thought of gojo being just a few feet away from you made you want to throw up. As time passed, it felt like hours, but in reality, it had only been a few minutes.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard gojo and getos' voice gradually get closer and closer to the door. You can hear geto say "cmon dude don't go in there really just go wait in the living room ill get it for you".

Before Geto could even stop him, Gojo flung the door open. His eyes immediately widen as he sees you sitting comfortably on Sugurus bed.

"what the fuck are you doing here?"

edit!: prt 3

tags!! @ourfinalisation @96jnie @qashmer @sugurugirlie @gollumsmygel @ritzes28

#bibi!—writes #jjk fanfic #jjk suguru #geto suguru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk x reader #geto x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo

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onepieceshipweek · 5 months ago

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One Piece Ship Week in July!

The One Piece Ship Week is back!

I know it’s really late to announce it, but honestly being an adult is… exhausting. And boring. And exhausting again.

Anyway the week will take place from July 1st to July 7th and here are the prompts:

Day 1: Dreams

Day 2: Seasickness

Day 3: First/Last Fight

Day 4: Promise

Day 5: Lost

Day 6: Lazy Day

Day 7: Free Day <3

The rules are still pretty basic:

- Any type of art (fanfiction, fanart, edit, headcanons, etc) is welcomed. You may translate or repost something that hasn’t been made by you only if you have the explicit permission of the creator and credit them.

- Use the tag #opshipweek or #opshipweek2024 in the first five tags of your post so I can reblog your entry (late entries are accepted but early entries are not).

- Romantic and platonic relationships are both accepted

- NSFW content must be tagged as such and trigger warnings must be written in the tags of your post

- Finally, as it is an even where all ships are welcomed, please don’t hate on other ships or characters

- AO3 collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/OnePieceShipWeek

Please reblog so we can have another fun week!

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hippielittlemetalhead · 4 months ago

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Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 5: Man Of The Hour

Life is mildly less sucky with depression being more managed (also the mood boost from Renaissance Faires 😁) and my weekends being free again for me to travel to see my person. Still full of dumpster fires but I want to scream about it less. Also, been in feels very similar to the ones that inspired this whole endeavor so... enjoy?

Anywho, here's part 5! Enjoy, my little nerdlings. As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags, reblogs and/or ask box. If you see any mistakes feel free to message me about them. 😬👌

Part 1: Hop Fucks Up, Part 2: Pride and Prejudices (Joyce Edition), Part 3: One of Us, Part 4.1: With A Capital P, Part 4.2: Robin's Boy

Steve Harrington was an odd duck. That's what his grandmother always used to say. She would pat his already proudly coiffed hair as he hung off the arm of her rocking chair and tell him as much whenever his parents took him to visit. He would beam at her with his big (reportedly pinchable by every aunt and grandmother in the family) cheeks and quack at her before cracking up at himself like he told the funniest joke and she would let him laugh until he rolled himself off her armchair to the plush carpeted floor. She would laugh and reach way over the arm of her chair to poke his stomach or cheek or nose, sometimes just his little forehead, before leveraging herself up out of her chair and taking herself to the kitchen to boot his mother out of it. Steve Harrington was a certified 'odd duck'.

Steve isn't sure, as he sits in that old rocking chair he had stolen liberated from his parent's house when he moved into his new apartment, when he became whatever he is now. He slowly rocks himself back and forth, the chair creaking a little as his weight shifts. The kids and other teens are chattering on the walkie but it's nothing too pressing, just nonsense and junk food emergencies, Mike cursing out Hop. His ribs hurt and his nose is sore but it doesn't feel like anything is broken. It sucks he knows what broken feels like. It sucks that Robin is kind of mad at him for getting hurt enough Owens pulled rank and had him dropped off at home and assigned someone to be the Party's chauffer for the rest of the day. It sucks that all the kids have their own plans tonight, leaving him to try and find ways to keep himself distracted without their usual insanity. A lot of things just kind of suck these days.

He feels himself smiling and picks up the walkie to confirm that he was alive and resting like ordered when he hears Dustin bickering with Robin about invading his apartment to check on him. That doesn't suck he supposes. He knows Robin and the kids care and he knows that eventually the soldier tasked with driving his hellions around is going to be bullied into driving them to see him, other plans be damned and the thought makes him smile.

The smile drops when he hears what sounds like a soft knock at his door. It's too sharp to be Widow Bea two doors over who leans on her walker and kicks the bottom of his door with her soft leather slippers that belonged to her late husband when she needs him to fix a cabinet or mix batter for whatever pastry she was making that week. And it's not the distinct pattern of Clara Damon from down the hall who will come and tap at his door to ask if he has an extra cup of sugar or spoonful of flour as she bats her eyes at him simpering about how she's making cookies or a pie or a casserole of some kind and inviting him to dinner with her and her folks to have some. He's always got an empty pantry and a surplus of plans when Clara Damon comes knocking. He and Widow Bea have standing poker nights with the other older ladies who all meet at the recreation building.

(It used to be the Harrington house. But his parents decided to sell to prove a point when they up and kicked him out and Owens needed a place to set up a promised recreation space and the gym was already a relief supplies warehouse.)

But the knock at his door isn't either of those. It could be someone else in the building. Could be one of his neighbors who have started to associate Steve Harrington with fighting mutated wild dogs caused by government experiments gone wrong and hauling around kids who seemed to cheat death and holding I.O.Us signed by the U.S army instead of the absent Harrington socialites who are known for swanning into town, flaunting their wealth and making themselves scarce again. The ones who he can sometimes hear whispering about him as he makes his way down the street or through Melvald's.

The knocking comes again, louder this time and firmer. It could be a lot of things and he doesn't want to deal with any of them.

Steve sighs, it could be important. He gets up to answer the door, breathing slow and shallow and letting himself lean on walls as he makes his way to the door. A third round of knocking and he's starting to get tired of it. He takes a slightly painful breathe to call out to whoever is trying to knock down his door to calm themselves down when, "Hey kid, Harrington, you in there?" That stops him a foot from his door.

His ribs hurt and his nose is sore and his leg is throbbing where a demodog got a lucky swipe on the meat of his thigh. But nothing is broken. His leg will be fine in a day or two. He hates that he knows what broken feels like. He hates that he knows what infected feels like. He hates that he knows the stone in his stomach and the clenching vice around his lungs has nothing to do with his injuries. His ribs scream at him when he pulls himself as tall and straight backed as he can, shifting himself so his weight is on his good leg and he can (hopefully) use the hallway wall and doorframe to support himself long enough to talk to Hopper and send him on his way.

He opens the door with a smile and feels himself falter a little when he sees Hopper standing there in a big tan canvas jacket and baseball cap and he's reminded of the times the older man would show up on his parent's doorstep with the same look on his face asking questions Steve didn't always know how to answer.

"Hey, Hopper." His voice is light and smile wide and loose and he just needs to keep this up. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Heard you got a bit banged up on a patrol?"

Steve shrugs. It takes more than he'd like to hide the pain that causes. "Just a couple bumps and bruises, nothing I can't walk off after a decent night's sleep. Owens is just paranoid these days, ya know."

"Owens huh?"

"Uh, yeah? That's who told you right? Cause I took a couple hits?" Hopper doesn't say anything, just looks at him with something that Steve might have once thought was concern about his potential injuries. He doesn't know why today of all days Hop decided to show up cause he got knocked around a little more than planned but it doesn't bode well when something in his face shifts and he lets out a tired sigh. "Oh, but don't worry!" That came out louder than he intended. "I'm totally fine. Like I said, I just need to walk it off and I'll be back out there in no time. You don't gotta worry about a thing, I've got it handled. Like I said, Owens is just overreacting. Nancy can cover for me tomorrow and then I'll be right back on the roster I promise. You and Mrs. Byers don't have to worry about a thi-"

"Steve. Shut up." He feels his jaw snap shut, the edge of his tongue and inside of his cheek getting caught in his teeth. "I didn't hear it from Owens. The kids told me. Owens knows you're hurt?"

"Uh, ye-yes sir. He's the one who sent me home. Gave the kids a detail to transport them and keep them protected while I'm out of commision. One officer to drive them around and they're being tailed by at least 3 others in case anything happens."

"Four soldiers just to replace you?"

"Oh they're not in that much danger! I'm perfectly capable of watching them usually, its just that Owen's guys are still kinda green even this deep in. Most of them just can't wrap their heads around the whole 'other dimension stuck in 1983' side of things." Hop's eyebrows shoot up under the bill of his cap. "But again, it's fine! I always take point whenever we go into a new sector and those guys are good as backup at least."

"But you're hurt." His eyebrows have come back down but now they're furrowed like he's confused or upset.

"Just a little!" He is not making things better. "I swear Hopper, you guys don't have to worry about a thing. I've got it handled, you don't have to-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington! Just shut up!" Steve flinches back, stepping further into his doorway as Hopper yells. The older man sighs, a big hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He tries not to think of the times Robin and the kids have made fun of him for doing the same, calling it one of his 'dad poses'. "Look, I didn't come to try and give you shit about getting knocked around a little being stupid and playing soldier. I came to- I was going to ask." He sighs and his shoulders slump a little forward and his eyes are focused on the toes of Steve's (very comfortable) bat slippers that had been a gift from Wayne once the kids had told him Steve had been the one to drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. "Did you want to come over for dinner?"

Steve doesn't think he heard him right. "What?"

"Joyce is making some sort of spaghetti casserole-"

"Isn't that just baked spaghetti?"

"And we wanted to have you over. We haven't talked much since I came back. I'd like to change that."

"What?"

"You, dinner, at our place? With me and Joyce and the kids? I think Jonathan is bringing Nancy." Steve flinches and Hop silently curses himself bringing up the ex who cheated on him and the guy she cheated with.

"Why?"

"Uuh... Talking?"

Ah, he had it now. "What did the kids do? Just, lay it on me man, and I'll take care of it. Did they say something? I can have them over tomorrow and talk to them. Was it Mike, it was probably Mike, I'll get him to apologize, just-"

"Goddamn it Harrington I just wanted to ask you over for some dumbass spaghetti casserole thing and a decent conversation. Maybe watch a football game cause no one else in that house seems to enjoy a good game."

Steve isn't sure what's happening. "You want me to come to dinner. To talk?"

Hop sighs again. "Yes, kid. Just. Dinner and talking."

"Uh huh. Right. I'm just- I just need a minute." He tries not to slam the door in the man's face but he's definitely trying to be as fast as possible. He's not sure what the hell is going on but it has to be something because Hopper wouldn't just invite him over. And Joyce Byers definitely wouldn't want him in her house for something as simple as a talk and to watch football. It takes him longer than he'd like to reach the walkie on the little side table by his grandmother's rocking chair. His ribs are screaming at him and his elbow smarts from banging it on the corner as he turned into the sitting room.

"I need some sort of backup at my apartment. Like now please?!" He waits a second before pressing the speaker button again, "Over."

The walkie crackles and he hears an assortment of concerned chatter. "Steve?" Dustin's voice breaks through the general din. "What's the problem? Over."

"I- I'm not sure how to classify it? I've Got Hop at my front door but I think there's something wrong with him? Or something is trying to trick me it's him? Oh shit did I get Vecna'd??"

"Steve," Nancy snaps, shutting up most of the chatter and giving his rising panic something to focus on. "Why do you think it's not Hopper? Or that he's not in control of himself?"

"He- He invited me to the cottage for dinner?"

"What?"

"Yeah just dinner and talking? And that- that's weird right?"

Nancy sighs and Steve hears Hop say something from outside his apartment. He's running out of time. "Why is that so weird Steve?"

"Cause he doesn't like me. And Joyce really doesn't like me." He feels like that's obvious. "They don't like me and they're busy with other stuff. They wouldn't willingly ask me over for dinner and football or some shit so something has to be up."

"Seriously kid?"

He doesn't scream as he drops the walkie-talkie, spinning around to face the voice behind him.

"You're calling an emergency cause I invited you to dinner?"

Again, he feels like this is obvious. "Yes. I don't know what happened but we're going to fix it Hop, I promise. Or, like, if you're something controlling Hop or wearing his face or some shit I will figure it out and I will find the most painful way to kill you."

Hop runs a hand down his face again, he's going to have so many wrinkles after this. "Fucking Christ, kid. Is it so crazy that we wanted to try and get to know you? Make sure you're fed and taking care of yourself since apparently Owens isn't making sure you're alright?!"

What the fuck?

"Yes!" That seems to make Hop take a step back. "I tried for years to try and get the slightest acknowledgement from you! I've spent the last year taking care of the kids and monitoring the gates and fighting Powell and Owens every time they decide to try something stupid and almost get their men killed cause I realized you never meant it!" God he can hear his voice breaking and feel the tears starting to roll down his face. "You never meant it. But you meant it for El and Will and fuck, even Jonathan. And they deserved that. They needed you and you couldn't be there if you and Joyce were fighting with Owens and-" He can't hold back the sob that rips out from deep in his chest. "And I don't- I can't- I just-"

"Hey, hey kid. I need you to breath for me. Okay? Can you just let it out in one push and take a deep breathe in."

There's a large, warm hand rubbing up and down his back. His running nose is throbbing, his sore ribs are probably cracked now from how tightly he's folded in on himself and his injured leg feels wet like he pulled the stitches when he dropped to his knees on the threadbare rug. There's a deep rumbling voice talking to him, telling him how to breathe and asking him to sit up, let go of the walkie he can hear crackling as people call his name and ask Hopper what's going on. It's all just too much.

Why?

"What was that, kid?" Oh. He didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Why?"

"I fucked up. I'm trying this thing called owning up to my mistakes." Steve lets out a wet laugh that turns into a pained groan when it shakes his ribs. "Come on, let's get you up here." He tries not to cry out when Hop lifts him up from under his armpits, pulling at his ribs, but he knows he lets out a sharp whimper. "You fuck up your ribs?"

"What do you think?"

"Yeah, dumb question." Hop chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Look, let's get your ribs wrapped and we'll get you down to the hospital to get checked out an-"

"No. No hospital. Can't do 'em."

"Kid you need to get looked at and maybe some pain meds and antibiotics while you heal up."

"No fucking drugs." Steve practically growls, his teeth clenched and eyes burning as he stares up at Hop. "I'll take your fucking antibiotics but I can take a couple of ibuprofen and call it a day."

"A couple of- What the fuck, kid? You can barely walk and you're telling me you're not in serious pain?"

"I've had worse."

"Bullshit." The kid winces and the look on his face closes off. "Stop trying to be a hero and just admit you need help." Steve rolls his eyes.

"I'm fine, Hop. I've walked off worse."

"Again, I call bullshit."

"You know how thorough our Russian friends could be."

"What?"

Steve shrugs, an angry grimace on his face. "Once you live through Russian military questioning and hiking through Upside Down Hawkins, most everything after that's a piece of cake."

"Jesus Christ-"

"I don't think saying his name is gonna make him listen to ya now."

"Ya ain't cute, kid."

Steve gives him the same smile he always did whenever Hop crashed one of his 'King Steve' parties. "I'm adorable." He chuckles at himself and Hop finds himself laughing along at the kid's attitude. "What do you want, Hopper?" Steve's voice is quiet. It wavers in a way that tells him the kid is sad and hesitant and tired and Hopper can feel something niggling at the back of his mind. "You come over out of the blue asking me to dinner with your family like that's something we do. What the fuck man? What are you trying to do?"

"Like I said kid: I realized fucked up. Bad. And I'm trying to fix it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

Steve leans back, the rocking chair leaning farther back than Hop feels comfortable with considering the kid's injuries but he manages to not rock back so far he falls. "Alright then. So what do you need?"

Hop can't follow this kid at all and he's not sure when that happened. If it's always been like that. "What are you talking about kid? You're the one that's all beat up." His mind goes back to swollen eyes and bruised knuckles covered in a rainbow of haphazardly placed bandages being fussed over by a group of dirty but uninjured kids. Bloody sailor uniforms rounding up rowdy kids without a mark on them despite obvious injuries and a slight limp and what might be bruised ribs. Bandages being removed to expose red raised around a strong neck that looks like someone took barbed wire to it and bulky bandages poking out from beneath stolen shirts. "What are you talking about what I need?"

Steve lolls his head to look at Hopper. For the first time all evening his eyes are trained on the older man unflinching and not anxiously darting away. His smile is more a resigned grimace. "What do you need to get Robin -and I'm guessing the kids- off your back?"

"It's not just because of them."

"But it is because of them."

"I want to make this right."

"It's not yours to fix, Hop. I've made peace with that. Thought I'd made that clear to the rest of them."

"I thought the kids didn't know."

"Not about you being my emergency contact and like, in charge of making big medical decisions if they couldn't get a hold of my parents. But that you'd stop by the house to make sure I hadn't like drowned washing my hair after I took a beating. That I put more stock in that than I should have."

"You were right to put stock in that stuff Steve. Fuck, if I knew anyone else in that situation I'd assume they'd basically adopted you. It makes sense."

Steve shrugs, wincing less this time. "That's life, can't fix it now."

"Will you let me try?"

"I mean. I'm giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card here man."

"And I'm not taking it."

"Well. It's there, whenever you decide to take it."

"Thanks but no thanks, kid."

"Hey, your choice Hop. Ever get tired of the boardwalk just say the word and it's yours. Do not pass 'Go!'. Do not collect $200."

"Monopoly, really?"

"My head may have gotten a knock too. Not a concussion but I'm a little... swimmy."

"Swimmy?"

"Uhm-hmm"

Hop chuckles, "You're an odd duck, kid, you know that? An odd, pain in my ass, duck."

Steve feels his face splitting in a wide smile that pulls at a small cut on his lip and lets his head fall back, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline rush that has been this entire interaction.

"Quack quack."

Tag list (I think this is everyone?)(If you see this post and your tag didn't work let me know cause they don't always work for me Idk why):

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @steveshairspray86 @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @wormapothacary @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @ellietheasexylibrarian @pukner @bookworm0690 @nightmareglitter @joekeerysmoles @salchica @lawrencebshoggoth @iheartjennaaa @child-of-cthulhu @anaibis @rocochen20 @katdeerly @samcoxramblings @fiore-della-valle

#rambler writes #yeah the ramblings of a madperson #steve harrington needs a hug #stranger things fic #rambler writes fic #nttttf verse #hopper adopts steve #but make it sad #idek anymore #fathers and sons #got the morbs #some projection about father figures and unrequited familial affection #morbid and melancholy unlovable bastards are we #come yell about the sad with me

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royallyprincesslilly · 11 months ago

Text

Title: What We Did In The Dark {4}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Language, 18+ Mature Content, Angst, Small Time Jumps, Preggo Talk, Pregnancy Trope, Talk of Pregnancy Termination

Words: 6.2k

Summary: Neither of you planned any of it. You’d met by chance, and everything that happened after had to have been predestined. Now back to your own life, you find you have a special souvenir from your time in Mauritius and you have a tough decision to make.

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!

As you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

What We Did In The Dark {1}**** | What We Did In The Dark {2}* |

What We Did In The Dark {3} |

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

Chapter Four: Into The Unknown

-Y/N-

“Ah, Y/N. Welcome back. I am very happy to see you again,” Dr. Olumichi said as she got comfortable in the high rolling stool.

“Are you?”

“Yes of course. I also knew I would see you again,” she added.

“I didn’t even know I would see you again.”

She chuckled, “I’ve been in the business of babies for a long time, and I’ve developed a skill for knowing who will rise to the occasion and who will choose to have more time to get there.”

“It was touch or go there for a week or two,” you admitted.

“But here we are,” Villie finished.

The three of you smiled.

“Right where you were meant to be,” Dr. Olumichi said as she rolled closer.

“This is Villie, my best friend.”

“And babies’ auntie,” Villie filled in.

Dr. Olumichi smiled then shook Villie’s hand. “Nice to meet you Villie. What an interesting name.”

“I promise it’s not short for villian, just to put that out there.

Dr. Olumichi laughed loudly.

“It’s short for Valenza. Here’s my card in case you ever need an attorney who has got your back for your interests and not my own like other attorneys if you know what I mean.”

All your eyes met, and an unspoken understanding sparked between you. She knew just what Villie meant.

“Thank you Villie. All right, so 1st official prenatal appointment. How exciting, yeah?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

It didn’t sound believable but hey, it was still early.

“Don’t worry. When we get to the main event--,” Dr Olumichi gestured to the sonogram machine. “You’ll be whistling a different tune. Ultrasounds and sonograms are completely different experiences. All right so you are precisely 19 weeks. Welcome to your 5th month. You are practically halfway there.”

“Already? She just started,” Villie chimed in.

“She didn’t. It’s just that she just found out about it because this was a cryptic pregnancy, a definite one especially seeing that they are twins. You’ve gone through the normal time for morning sickness and the drain of energy. The next 2 months are known as the sweet spot of pregnancy, your energy levels out often times you get some energy. It’s known as the most comfortable time before you are too big to move or see your feet. So enjoy this time.”

You nodded and tried to remain present and not panic. As Dr. Olumichi explained what was happening inside of your body with the babies then to your body with you, she went further to explain what you should expect over the next few weeks. As she listed some of the not so cute and fun things to expect your face went from neutral to slightly worried. She immediately noticed and did her best to soothe any worries by offsetting them with more realistic positives.

“You look overwhelmed,” Dr. Olumici said taking a break from information dumping.

You sighed, then took a deep breath. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I can imagine. However, you are in good hands Y/N. I’ve been doing this a long time and the way I work with my moms to be is in a partnership. You worry about remaining healthy and stress free and taking your vitamins and precautions for your safety and I will handle the rest. I will help ensure that you are ready for what happens in fourish months and immediately after.”

Her smile was warm and her eyes kind and instantly you felt at ease.

“Here at Mom to Be & Baby to Be we are more than just gynecology and obstetrics. I pride myself on this organizations work with really working with mothers and ensuring that they have all the resources and help for this lifetime journey. A more prepared mom is a happier and more successful mom,” Dr. Olumici finished.

“That sounds amazing,” Villie said. “Oh my god, Y/N, she’s amazing.”

You smiled and nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. The remainder of the appointment progressed with Dr. Olumici going over your blood work and levels while explaining any risks that were relevant to you. She then took care with measuring your belly growth as well as the babies inside. When she set up the sonogram machine both you and Villie perked up.

“All right the main event. Another thing to think about is if you want to know the sex of the babies.”

“Of course,” Villie squeaked before you could even process the sentence.

She spun around to look at you then made a “yikes” face. “Yes, right?”

You thought for a minute but just as you were going to say yes you thought about experiencing that moment with Lewis. When you thought that you nearly rolled your eyes into the back of your skull. How in the hell would you experience it with him? He didn’t even know and for all you knew he would probably deny that they were his. You must have remained silent for too long or your face betrayed your conflict because Villie’s hand engulfed yours.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to find out.”

“No um—I was just thinking—yeah we can find out. that would be nice.”

“Are you sure? If you would want to wait for the father or some other time--.”

Villie gasped, “Is that your hang up? That is an option, it could be a good thing to wait for him it could be something to ease the news down.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want to know.”

“Okay. Then let’s give these movie stars their close up,” Dr. Olumici joked as you grabbed the bottle of gel and stood from her stool.

You watched as she squirted an ample amount of gel onto your protruding belly. It was warmer than you’d expected, and you guessed it had to have been heated. As she approached with the Doppler wand, you tried to calm your rapidly beating heart. You didn’t know if you were excited or nervous. It could have been a mixture of both at this point. You’d accepted your situation, but you didn’t think you’d crossed the threshold of being happy about it.

“Okay, let’s see.”

Your doctor moved the wand over your belly, spreading the gel as she went. The sound in the room amplified and filled making you feel as if you were underwater. Three pairs of eyes were glued to the screen waiting for the first appearance of a little body.

“Hm, there’s aren’t many places they can hide at this stage, but I see they want to play hide and seek.”

Suddenly, empty greyness changed to darker grey imaging and then the room filled with out of sync heartbeats.

“Ah-ha, there they are.”

Villie gasped, covered her mouth, then snapped her head to you.

“There are your babies.”

You gaped at the screen staring at their small bodies and allowing the sound of their hearts to fill you.

“Holy shit. This is real.”

“Oh yeah. This is as real as it gets,” Dr. Olumici said.

She tapped across the keyboard then the image magnified leaving you with a clear image that had now turned from shades of grey and white to amber and honey hues.

“They look wonderful at first glance. Let’s go more in depth though.”

You watched your doctor get a view from every angle imaginable. With each angle change, she tapped across the keyboard freezing the image for a few seconds before moving on. Each new image made your heart slow rather than speed up. It was as if the nerves from before were stilling and dissipating, like before nothing made sense but now everything made sense.

“So as a whole, they look great. They are measuring well. The only thing I see is they are maybe 2 or 3 centimeters off to where I would want them to be, but I will credit you not knowing you were pregnant and the need for some vitamins and a balanced diet. Now that you are aware you are eating for three hopefully they will catch up because in the earlier months is when twins gain their most weight. When the womb becomes cramped, growing becomes tough and uncomfortable. So let’s really aim for 3 full balanced meals and two to three nutritious snacks a day.”

You nodded.

“All right. So—sex?”

“I’m not having any.”

Villie snorted.

“No, no. Do you want to know the sex?”

Biting your bottom lip you thought it over once more. Curiosity was pecking away at you and though Villie was right, if you did tell Lewis about the pregnancy finding out the genders together would be a way to drive it home and or bond over the moment. The debate in your head was annoying because each side of the argument gave good points, however, curiosity won with you each and every time.

“Let’s do it.”

The two other women in the room smiled then focused back onto the screen.

“All right, let’s do it.”

Dr. Olumici took just a few moments and each second that ticked away made your heart pound even harder. This was excitement. When Villie saw a smile on your face she squeezed your hand.

“You’re excited too right? It’s not just me.”

“I’m excited,” you said finally and truly meant it.

“Ha, the easiest inquiry,” Dr. Olumici began with a snort. “These babies are not shy.”

“Wonder where they get that from,” Villie said eying you.

You rolled your eyes and leaned closer to the screen. “What are they?”

“This one on the left is a boy and on the right is his sister.”

Your eyes bugged as an “oof” escaped you. You felt like you’d just gotten a foot to gut but it didn’t hurt.

“What was that!?”

“I just saw it. That would be your daughter asserting herself early with a kick.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my god. Really?”

Your doctor nodded as a wave of euphoria washed over you. You remembered this feeling. It was similar to how you felt when you’d gotten the call that a broadcasting channel wanted to pay you to travel officially and put you on every streaming device across the globe. You felt like that but only 100 times better. The kick to the gut came again and again.

“Oh my god.”

“They’re really awake now. Say hello mom.”

You stared at the screen at the two life forms that were growing inside of you with awe and wonderment. You didn’t know they existed a few short weeks ago but now that you knew and had seen and felt them you couldn’t ever imagine going back. You couldn’t believe your situation now. In theory you knew how babies were made and everyone knew that whenever they had sex there was always some chance of one being made but no one ever thought that they would really make one even if they didn’t use protection. Looking back pregnancy was the last thing on your mind that night and now it was the first.

The remainder of the appointment went by in a blur. You went through everything related to the pregnancy and your concerns and fears with Dr. Olumici then made a detailed calendar of appointments and check-ins. By the time you left 3 hours had passed and you were equipped with every kind of tool known to pregnant women support known to the mental health field plus one auntie-godmother who was just as equally on cloud nine as you were.

~~~~~~~~

Now sitting in a corner booth at Cheesecake Factory you were fully indulging your craving for cheesecake with not one but three slices of your faves while staring haplessly at the sonogram pictures of your babies.

“You look so in love,” Villie said.

You looked across at her with a wide smile.

“Cheesecake and a belly full of cute babies. How can I not be?”

She chuckled then sighed. “They are cute. Totally unfair to the rest of society, I mean you see the gene pool. I saw some resemblance in the forehead area.”

You snorted. “You know you not right.”

Villie laughed then took a sip of her drink. “I kid. I kid.”

You sighed then put a large forkful of cheesecake into your mouth. “Think this counts as a balanced meal?”

“No, Y/N, but I think it definitely counts as 1 of 3 nutritional snacks.”

You smiled wide. “I love you.”

“Happy wife, happy life,” Villie teased.

Just then her phone rang drawing both of your attention to it. The smile on her face told you just who it was.

“Go ahead.”

“Hello?”

She sounded like a lovesick freshman who was so under the spell of her paramour that everything and everyone else ceased to exist. ‘When you saw her twirl a thick strip of dark curls around her finger you scoffed. Must be nice, you thought before your mind went back to all those weeks ago when you’d felt anything close to what she felt.

The memory of Lewis’ hand brushing against your cheek sparked a heat inside of you that gently simmered until the memory of his thick thumb slid across your bottom lip. That slow, simmering heat kindled into a mild inferno. The more you remembered from your night together, the hotter you became. Thankfully, before you could fall deep into this dangerous desire you still felt when you thought about him, you felt Villie’s hand on your arm.

Her eyes were boring into you. “Are you all right? Is it—,” she asked dropping her eyes to your stomach.

“No, no. I’m fine. Sorry. I just—zoned out.”

Villie nodded and then brought the phone back to her ear. “Call me when you land. Okay. Bye.”

When she dropped her phone back into her purse, she looked at you.

“Miles come into town?”

Villie nodded but she didn’t make eye contact with you.

“So y’all have a date tonight?”

“Not quite.”

“It’s okay Villie, we don’t have to hang out every night. I will be fine alone. Honestly, I’m not alone anymore,” you said cradling your newly popped bump.

“No, I um—I told him I wanted you to meet him.”

Your eyes bugged then. “You did what? When?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. I really want to know what you think of him before things go any further.”

“Villie—.”

“I know. I promise I didn’t bring it up to back you into a corner or anything. I was actually planning for it to happen before you told me about the pregnancy. I’m sorry.”

You took a deep breath and tried not to freak out.

“Don’t apologize. I get it. It’s fine, it’s what we do.”

“So, it’s okay?”

“Yeah. We’ll do a late dinner.”

Villie jumped out of her seat and onto you, throwing her arms around your neck, “Thank you, Y/N. I swear I will take your lead about the pregnancy.”

You smiled and tried to hide the rising panic you felt. Your once hectic but simple life had now turned into a damn episode of Jane the Virgin.

~~~~~~~~~

-That Night-

Though you’d tried to find ways to get out of the dinner you found yourself sitting beside Villie in a cab on your way to Island Gardens restaurant. You could feel Villie’s excitement rolling off of her, but you could tell she was also nervous. She knew you would not be shy about assessing him and letting her know what you thought of him.

You were notorious for being picky about the men she entertained. You always had been ever since the douche from college who had the audacity to ghost her after knocking her up. You refused to let another asshole slip through the ranks especially knowing how much of a catch your best friend was. Any man who intended to even step a pinky toe into her personal space had to pass the test. You didn’t give half a shit if it meant you were called too picky. All it meant was any man better rise to the fucking occasion.

You dropped your hand to Villie’s knee hoping to steady her leg that had not stopped shaking since you’d gotten in the car.

“It’s okay Villie. Calm down.”

She took a deep breath then slowly released it. “What if you don’t like him?”

“V, if he has passed your wards, then I am sure he’ll appease me.”

She snorted then dropped her head to your shoulder. “You’ll like him.”

She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself more than you and you couldn’t help but laugh. You hadn’t seen her like this in a long, long time. It was too cute. By the time the car rolled up to the front of the restaurant, she’d calmed down some, but your nerves were rising. It had taken an hour to find something that hid your belly. Then it took another hour to find something that not only hid your belly but didn’t make you look bloated. The dress you wore now was something you hadn’t worn in a long time, but it did the trick—mostly. You still felt as if it drew attention to your midsection and other parts of your body that were new thanks to baby 1 and baby 2.

“Reservation?”

Then hostess smiled widely showcasing her perfectly straightened teeth and corner dimples.

“We’re meeting someone here,” Villie managed to get out.

“Okay, sure thing. Name please?”

Villie leaned closer and spoke lowly. “Miles.”

The hostess looked at her then you and smiled softly as she tapped the letters into the keyboard.

“Got them. Thea will take you to your table. Have a good night.”

Villie smiled, looped her arm with yours again then walked off behind a gorgeous woman who was tall enough to be a model and so svelte you felt envious because you were so far from svelte now and had no hope of being that way again for many more months.

“Follow me, ladies.”

You pushed the thoughts out of your head and brought yourself back to the moment. When you heard Villie release a small gasp you knew she’d spotted Miles. Seconds later she’d let go of your arm and was in his. You watched as they kissed as if they hadn’t seen each other in months when you were sure it was merely weeks. You thanked the seater then waited for them to finish. However, when they should have finished, his hand slid down to cup her ass. Villie giggled then which triggered his sort of giggle. Part of you felt so happy for her but the other part cringed a little.

“Mm. Oh. Baby,” Villie began turning to you. “Officially meet my best friend in the entire world, Y/N. Bestie this is Miles.”

He had to have been 7 feet tall. Even with you in heels, he was still towering over you. You approached him and shook his outstretched hand, but he pulled you toward him and kissed both your cheeks like some rich cosmopolitan. You were so taken off guard that you didn’t realize the hand you had shaken seconds before was nudged between your bodies and pressing against your burgeoning belly.

Oh shit, you thought as you tried to act normal and not panic because you knew it would bring more unwanted attention. You put distance between you and smiled.

“It’s nice to officially meet you Miles.”

“You too. Valenza talks about you all the time. I feel like I know you personally already.”

You giggled and looked at Villie who was staring at this man like he hung the stars each and every night in the sky. You could not believe the whole switch in her. You’d never seen her like this with someone.

“Same,” you replied with a smile.

The three of you moved to the table and as you got situated you watched how Miles pulled out her seat, made sure she sat down first, then proceeded to make sure she was comfortable. Then he hurried over to catch your seat before you pulled it out for yourself. You thanked him as you sat then watched as he whispered something to Villie that made her lean to kiss his cheek. It was then you knew that by the end of the night, you’d vomit from all this sweetness.

Most guys that Villie had you meet treated the meeting as something casual or something that didn’t mean anything. They cracked weird pedo jokes, freely groped her, and showcased some questionable behaviors that anyone would think were weird. Some even went above and beyond with their efforts to impress you. Some told completely unrealistic stories and flat-out lies that were obvious lies but expected you to swallow them as facts. Rarely did you meet anyone who tried to impress you naturally.

Throughout appetizers, Miles treated Villie like a queen. He fed her food off his plate, made sure her wine glass was never empty, occasionally nudged her, which spoke of an inside joke that she understood. The thing that made you warm a little towards him was how he looked at her when she wasn’t looking at him. He looked at her the way your grandfather looked at your grandmother—full of awe and wonder.

As you moved on to main courses, every time Villie laughed his eyes lit up like Christmas morning. It was adorable. When he began asking you about yourself you gathered he was unlike other men she’d dated. As you told him about your job, hobbies, and stories about Villie that both of you experienced he genuinely looked entertained and interested.

However, it was when his questions about you got more detailed did you know that he was really serious about her. Any man who took the time to get to know his girl’s best friend understood simplistic reasoning and the simplistic reasoning was that this was a test, and the best friend is the end all be all. If she approved then not only would she not be a problem for him, but she would become his ally.

After dinner, which Miles paid for, the three of you made moves to go to another venue but you’d seen enough. You pulled Villie into a hug.

“He’s great. Be happy.”

Her smile was so bright that you had to cringe away from her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My only caution is maybe to stay away from deep penetrative positions because his height says you will die.”

Villie screeched loudly then laughed so loud that everyone that was nearby stared.

“Oh my god! Y/N!”

You laughed.

“My mama ain’t raise no bitch!”

You snorted, shook your head then nodded because you knew this caution fell on deaf ears.

“What’s so funny over here?”

“Nothing. I’m going to head out,” you replied.

“So soon? You sure you don’t want to hang? I heard of this cool exhibit tonight,” Miles began.

“No, no, it’s all good. I’m actually a little tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Oh. Okay. It was really good to meet you officially and I’m glad you’re doing better and feeling better.”

“Yeah. Thank you so much for understanding again. I swear I will never rearend you again.”

The two of you chuckled.

“Hey, what are you doing this weekend?”

“Um—uh--.”

“I’m not trying to be weird or anything I swear.”

“Not trying to set up some best friend threesome?”

Miles snorted. “God no. Valenza is—more than enough,” he said staring at her.

From the look they exchanged you knew just what they would be doing the rest of the night.

“And—I don’t think threesomes are recommended in your—condition.”

Your eyes widened as Miles motioned to your stomach. He could tell?

“You can—wait—you—what do you know?”

Miles looked to Villie then you then back to Villie. “Uh—that you’re—pregnant. I’m not judging it’s cool. I mean you can barely tell but I hugged you and then you weren’t drinking or anything so--.”

You looked at Villie who also looked ready to panic.

It’s no big deal. I promise. Congratulations to you. What I meant was that this weekend is the Miami Grand Prix, and I can get you guys in for the VIP experience.”

You felt like you’d heard that from somewhere but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out where or what it was. Maybe it was because it had taken him moments to guess you were pregnant then 2 hours tops to confirm it. The blank look on your face must have been the dead giveaway for him because he chuckled a little.

“Are you a fan?”

“Fan? Oh—yeah totally. That sounds cool,” you said hoping to steer the conversation away from you being pregnant.

“Cool. So tomorrow starts the weekend. You and Valenza can come together, meet up there?”

“Sure.”

Just then your Lyft pulled up and you hugged Villie once more then waved to Miles before you got in. While the car pulled off you waved to them both then leaned back once they were out of sight.

“Oh my god!”

You dropped your head into your hands and proceeded to panic the entire ride home.

~~~~~~~

-The Next Day-

You took another sip from your café cup which held a large pomegranate tea. You were already missing caffeine and everything it brought to your life. Not only were you up not long after the sun came up but you were also dressed and already on the move.

“Are you as tired as I am?”

You took a sip from your cup then sighed.

“I am, but I think we’re tired for different reasons—me tossing and turning and growing two humans, you tossing and turning getting your back, cervix ovaries and soul blown out like a circus acrobat.”

Villie snorted then cackled. The driver glanced into the rearview mirror for a moment then looked back to the road.

“Oh my god. Look don’t judge me. I’m just trying to keep up with you,” she teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Ha-ha-ha!”

Another sip of tea filled you and you groaned wishing it was a large macchiato with an extra shot of espresso.

“Also, hello he sent you a chauffeured car?”

Villie smiled widely then twirled your hair.

“My baby knows how to take care of me,” Villie added.

“My baby? Damn, that was quick. I take it y’all got labels now?”

“We labeled up! That’s my man, he my boo.”

You smiled then nudged her. “I’m happy for you Villie. He seems like a good guy, and I love the way he treats you.”

“Thank you. I’m happy,” she said.

You smiled and looked back at the road. The car zipped by a billboard with the same words Miles said last night, “Miami Grand Prix”. Again something nagged at your brain, something like recognition but it wasn’t quite recognition. It felt like something was blocking the part of your brain responsible for your memory of what it meant.

Ten or so minutes later the car pulled up then stopped.

“We’ve arrived, ma’am.”

After thanking the driver, you and Villie got out and then marveled at the sea of people bustling around. As you joined them and walked toward an entrance you took notice of several people dressed wearing Ferrari, Mercedes, McLaren, and Red Bull items. You knew those brands.

“Villie, what exactly is the Miami Grand Prix? I swear it sounds familiar, but I can’t remember why or how.”

The look on Villie’s face was one of confusion. “I don’t know. I thought you knew.”

“Did you Google?”

“Girl my hands have been kinda busy for the last 12 hours.”

You cringed and shook your head. It was then you saw Miles standing just ahead.

“Hey! You guys made it.”

He hugged Villie then kissed her while babying her as if he hadn’t seen her less than 12 hours ago. You silently prayed this was not what you were in store for all day.

“You guys ready?”

“Yes!”

You had no idea where she’d found this burst of energy when she was half asleep moments ago in the car. The three of you walked on and with every step you took more and more things pointed to what this really was. When a woman passed by wearing a shirt with Lewis’ face you stopped in your tracks.

“Everything okay?”

“Um—this is Miami Grand Prix, racing—F1, right?”

“Yeah.”

Villie’s eyes widened then as it hit her as well. Miles looked at her then back to you and his confusion was evident.

“Is something wrong?”

“Uh--.”

You tried to come up with a reason to leave, or something to say to cover what was really wrong.

“No, no. Nothing is wrong.”

“Okay. Come on, the VIP experience includes paddock access with Mercedes,” he said as he walked on.

Holy shit, you thought. This was bad. This was very, very bad. Seeing no way out that wouldn’t lead to you having to confess you were carrying the babies of the man whose paddock you were on your way to, you proceeded to follow Miles. Every so often Villie looked back at you asking you with her eyes if you were all right. You’d spoken nonverbally long enough to easily pass your panicked message, “Help”.

Just as you were about to pull out your phone and fake a work emergency Miles stopped. “Welcome to the Mercedes paddock. Now Lewis isn’t here right now he’s already getting into his car but after I can get you and introduction if you’re down.”

You and Villie again exchanged quick looks before Miles continued to show you around and introduce you around. After almost twenty minutes you found yourself sitting in front of a TV with the race about to start. That was when Villie shimmied up to you.

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure it out,” you whispered back.

“I can come up with an excuse for us to leave.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird? I said I was a fan. Would a fan really get up and leave a VIP experience or a once in a lifetime experience?”

“Hell yeah they would if the VIP experience is with their secret babies’ daddy,” Villie aggressively whispered back.

You chewed your bottom lip even more intently. Then the start of events sound rang out and everyone brought their attention to the largest television in the room. Within seconds, the race began, then cars sped off. You watched in somewhat awe as the controlled chaos of a start turned into the cars forming a neat traffic line. This was your first in-person race. You’d seen a few on TV and watched a lot of recap highlights but this was your first in-person one and the atmosphere was intense. You couldn’t look away from the screen or move a muscle because it was that interesting.

Before you knew it, 20 laps had gone by, and with each lap, the lead changed and when the lead changed so did the line-up. On the 6th lap, Lewis made a swift cut-off and overtook Red Bull for the number 1 spot. Then in the 19th lap, the first collision happened that barely missed Lewis. That had you on your feet so quickly that you nearly lost your balance.

Now you were standing with your hands on your stomach because as soon as the excitement picked up so did the activity in your belly. It was as if they knew their father was once again racing toward greatness. Just when everyone in the Mercedes room was beginning to relax, Red Bull attempted another overtake. The fender of the Red Bull car clipped the bumper of Lewis’ car which sent his car slanting sideways and skidding. Everyone in the room gasped, some even cursed at the brazenness of the Red Bull driver.

However, with the loss of control of his back wheels, Lewis’ car otherwise remained in complete control. He didn’t swerve wildly or burn out, he kept his lead and even managed to block any further attempts to steal his lead. Thinking of the sheer skill that took had your jaw dropped and both your hands cradling your babies—his babies.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

Miles’ voice boomed around the room when Lewis not only straightened out but inched further into a lead.

“Wow,” you marveled as a wave of intense attraction washed over you.

You wanted to do nothing more than to throw yourself on him and lick his neck no matter how sweaty it was and that was just the beginning of all you wanted to do to him. The raw force of that wave bowled you off of your feet and back into your seat. Fuck, you thought. This was not good. You thought you’d moved past this and had gotten it out of your system. You thought that one night was more than enough for you, that you’d lived out every wanton desire and urge. Feeling the heat spread through you now told you that was more than likely not the case.

Two hours later as Lewis screeded to a stop after securing P1 the entire Mercedes room was filled with celebration. The man you’d spent the last two hours talking with patted you on the back then went in for a high five. “I think you might be his good luck charm.”

“Ha! I think now. He just happens to be the GOAT,” you countered.

He chuckled. “I have to have him meet you. I think you two would hit it off. I know everyone around here would love to see him settled.”

Your eyes bugged but as you were about to speak, someone else did.

“That’s Toto for you. He and Suzie are steadily trying to marry him off,” a dark-skinned man the exact replica of Lewis said. "I don't mind, at least maybe I will get some grandchildren soon," he finished.

“Hahaha, Anthony my man,” Toto said with a chuckle.

The two men shook hands as you watched on with wide eyes. You’d seen pictures of Lewis’ father plenty of times. When they stood side by side the resemblance was really uncanny. The only difference was their skin tone, otherwise, Lewis was the spitting image of him.

“What a good race today,” Anthony said.

“I agree. I was just telling Y/N that she might be Lewis’s good luck charm. Miami hasn’t trusted him this well in a while,” Toto added.

Anthony Hamilton looked at you and smiled so warmly you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Y/N. Are you--.”

“No, no. I am no one. My best friend happens to be dating his best friend so here I am. Sort of like a 3rd wheel,” you blabbered.

“We all start from somewhere,” Toto slid in making Anthony snort.

“Well I can tell from your eyes that you’re a kind person. My son could use as many kind people around him as he can get. This business is fickle and cold.”

You caught the chill in his voice and from the look on Toto’s face both men were in a nonverbal agreement.

“Fickle and cold, huh. That’s good. At least you know where you stand with people. I’d take that over fake kindness and hidden agendas. Let a snake be a snake in the open. If I see the snakes in front of me I know my moves ahead of time. I’m sure Lew—your son is the same way. Prepare for war in secret and in the open but kill em’ in silence with kindness and skill which gives proven results.”

The two men glanced at each other then back to you with expressions you weren’t sure how to place.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No. It’s just you sounded like Lewis there. He says prepare in the open but move in silence,” Anthony informed.

You shrugged, “Eh, mine is better.

Again both men laughed.

“You’re right Toto, I think they would hit it off.”

“See. They complement each other.”

This was too freaky for you, so you quickly changed the subject. “Uh, it was a good race. So much so I’m wiped.”

You stretched your arms as you fake yawned. You watched Anthony’s eyes dip to your midsection but before he could speak you pulled your long cardigan together. “Congratulations to you Mr. Hamilton and team Mercedes. I’m going to go on and get out of here.”

Slipping past the two men who attempted to protest your departure, you shimmied up to Villie and slyly told her you were leaving. She didn’t try to stop you at all. She knew the risk that this was. It wasn’t that you didn’t want Lewis to know that you were pregnant, you just didn’t want right now to be when he found out. You knew what it felt like to be blindsided by this news and right here and now would definitely blindside him. Plus, you weren’t 100% ready to see him again after your night together, especially with you still being attracted to him. That was a recipe for disaster—it all was.

So you slipped away with no one being the wiser. The only pair of eyes that followed you as you left was Anthony Hamilton’s and his brow said that he was more than curious as to why.

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

TagList:

@chaneajoyyy @caramara3 @valkryienymph @babyflowa07 @est1887 @halfrican-heat @mauvecherie-writes @nunya7394 @lovebittenbyevans @gardenwonders2 @sweetlikecoffy @dillie60 @ olabelle757 @ophiaedits @kenequa @triton08 @skyesthebomb @shipatheart @keytodespair @xsweetdellzx @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @ak329 @shar74nett @youremysuperstar @whore-like-behaviour @sonjashuterbugjohnson

@alookintohersoul @asiaaisa77 @jd-now-jq @naturalthrone22 @mrsbarnes-rogers @beyourownkindofbeautiful @beccacupcakesxo @toni9 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @partypoison00 @queenoftheworldisdead @doublesidedscoobysnacks @sophiealiice @richonne4life @coffeebooksandfandom @siempremamita @raveviolet @dumbchick @amennariee @briellableu @leebabe444 @31miw-inkpsycho

@rororo06 @disaster-rose @bugngiz @yourwonderbelle @queenbetter @melaninhawtie @bekindbecoolbeyou @heartfullofgolden @idkiwantchocolatee @missuniee @avngrsfangirl @a-highly-opinionated-mess @19jammmy @nunya7394 @eltima02 @motheroffae @luckydiorxoxo

@majx00 @bbhyuneee @queenanababy @ravenqueen27 @multi-fandom5 @xsweetdellzx @bqueensweet @misswolff @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @blveeeeeee @majx00 @rowansshit @tian-monique @venusesworld @motheroffae @gg-trini @notyouraveragemochii @viennakarma

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #what we did in the dark series

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 10 months ago

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pt XI good omens season 1 finale I'M SORRY THIS IS LATE, I WAS READING FANFIC.

How is this a title I'm now forced to write. Yes, I know it's been a week since I finished episode 6 with you maggots. And today is the day we start season 2. However, I, the Official Good Omens Mascot, procrastinated writing part XI, because I was reading too much good omens fanfiction. Yesterday I do believe I was reading till 3 in the morning. Thanks guys.

Season 1 finale, or whatever I can figure out with my records of the watch along chat, at least. WAHOO.

[EDIT: I'm back at the intro after finishing this post, and I realised this is a very long summary, because most of it is me yelling at you guys. As I typed it I started reliving my rage of last week. Read on if you dare, yes the post is long, and yes the second half is in all caps. THIS TOOK EMOTION. YOU GUYS BETTER REBLOG IT INSTEAD OF LIKING IT SILENTLY WHILE LAUGHING AT MY PAIN. I WANT MY RAGE EVERYWHERE ON TUMBLR.]

Someone puts a message about how Crowley can no longer sense Aziraphale's presence, and again for some reason covers it with black. My reaction is of course horrified, and then everyone tells me to STOP CLICKING THE SPOILERS, ASMI.

So that's what that was. I realise this out loud, and everyone is ready to cry with exasperation. I explain to them very reasonably that while I don't read every message on the watch-along chat, every time there is a black message I assume it's important and I click on all of them to reveal the text.

Realising the spoiler function has backfired, as most things do with me, the chat sighs and everyone goes for a break. Then someone puts another blacked out message about the bookshop, and I react to that, leading to another blacked out message which simply says STOP CLICKING THE BLACK.

Oops, I already forgot. THE SPOILERS ARE JUST TOO CLICKY. CLICK CLICK CLICK. I HAVE TO CLICK ALL OF THEM.

Someone says I forgive you, Asmi. I reply with Don't bother, which leads to tears and threats to stab me. The chat maggots give up and we start episode 6.

There is a random flashforward. I don't understand what is happening, but then again, I never do.

Back at the airfield. Crowley walks in, recognises their hubby instantly, and takes charge sexily. Then the Bentley bursts into flames.

Crowley is heartbroken. No one comforts them. When I point this out (read, YELL IT AT THE CHAT IN DEVASTATION) someone tells me that this is how it always is.

APPARENTLY DAVID WAS TOLD TO THINK ABOUT THE TARDIS EXPLODING IN THAT MOMENT. I HATE THAT I KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS.

Crowley needs all the therapy. Someone says kinder fanfic authors give it to him. LIES, I point out, FIRST THEY GIVE HIM EVEN MORE REASON FOR THERAPY. THEN GIVE HIM THERAPY.

Everyone is yelling about a fanfic called demonology while Adam the Antichrist feels so weird at Aziraphale being inside someone that's not Crowley that he separates them in the First Bigeneration style. Doctor Who is inspired.

Aziraphale like the babygirl he is, tries to girlboss his way through the situation by making Crowley murder the kid.

Pepper FUCKING STABS WAR IN THE NAME OF FEMINISM WITH THE SWORD OF EDEN AND THEN OTHER TWO KIDS END THE OTHER HORSEPERSONS IN THE NAME OF HOMECOOKED MEALS AND ECOFRIENDLINESS AND WHAT THE FUCK THESE KIDS ARE TWELVE WHAT PERCY JACKSON LEVEL OF BADASSERY-

Crowley and Aziraphale give a half-assed attempt at a father-son (gn) talk with the Antichrist as the world is ending. It is a terrible contribution to saving the world. The Antichrist thankfully has inherent common sense, because he wasn't raised by them.

Aziraphale tries to overshare his and Crowley's meetcute and has to be shushed by an embarrassed Crowley who is trying to keep them alive.

Satan is supposed to arrive. I mistakenly assume Gabriel is actually Satan. Which pleases a lot of people.

Gabriel and Beezlebub talk and blame Crowley and Aziraphale (who contributed exactly JACK SHIT to averting the apocalypse).

I kind of ship Gabriel and Beezlebub after seeing them interact for 30 seconds, which for some fucking reason leads to a lot of reactions and yelling. I want them to be together. Which leads to more yelling. PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS NOT ACTUALLY CANON?

Satan arrives. Antichrist disowns him. Through the power of Manifestation, Law of Attraction and Positive Thinking, Adam is now no longer the Antichrist, Satan leaves, none of this happened and the BENTLEY AND BOOKSHOP ARE SAVED.

NO ONE IS FUCKING HUGGING CROWLEY. I'M GOING TO STAB A BITCH.

There is the bus stop scene Crowley asks Aziraphale to move in with him and they hold hands I DON'T FUCKING KNOW BY NOW THE CHAT HAS DESCENDED INTO CHAOS I'VE LOST MY BRAINCELLS.

ICE CREAM DATE AND SUDDEN INVASION AND I'M WATCHING THE ACTING AND I'M LIKE HANG ON A SECOND SOMETHING IS OFF AND I ASK SUDDENLY IF THEY SWITCHED.

THAT'S RIGHT, I ASK IF THEY SWITCHED. I KNEW THERE WAS A SWITCH AND I THOUGHT IT WAS MIDWAY THROUGH SEASON 2. BUT THE SIGNS ARE TOO MANY HERE. EVERYONE IS NOW YELLING AND PEOPLE KEEP IGNORING ME.

ALL THE ACTING IS FLIPPED I'M NOT BLIND YOU FUCKERS. AZIRAPHALE'S FACE IS DOING CROWLEY'S COULDNT-CARE-LESS EXPRESSION AND HE'S QUESTIONING HEAVEN AND CROWLEY'S TALKING HAS LESS CONSONANTS THAN USUAL AND NO CROWLEY SASS MORE AZIRAPHALE SASS IT'S THE SAME BACKGROUND AS THE NOSE-SCRUNCH SCENE AND SURELY THAT WAS AZIRAPHALE RIGHT.

EVERYONE KEEPS TELLING ME TO WAIT AND SEE. I KEEP YELLING THAT THEY MUST HAVE SWITCHED.

SOMEONE SAYS I'M EITHER A MADMAN OR A GENIUS. I TELL THEM I'M BOTH BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT DID THEY FUCKING SWITCH.

I'M NOW QUESTIONING MYSELF BECAUSE EVERYONE ISN'T LYING BUT THEY'RE MAKING ME QUESTION MY REALITY SO THE CLASSIC GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSSING.

I'M YELLING ABOUT HOW ONLY AZIRAPHALE WOULD BE POLITE ABOUT JACKETS AND SURVIVE HOLY WATER. EVERYONE IS LAUGHING AT ME. I'M NOW 60% SURE I'M WRONG.

PEOPLE KEEP YELLING WAIT AND SEE AND TALKING ABOUT SADIE AND DOTTIE I HATE IT HERE.

CROWLEY IS IN HEAVEN THAT WAS HIS DISMISSIVE LOOK I'M NOW 90% SURE I'M RIGHT. I'M YELLING ABOUT IT.

ADAM LEAVES THE GARDEN IN A METAPHOR AND THEN AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY SWITCHED BACK. THEY SWITCHED BACK. I WAS FUCKING RIGHT. I AM LIVID. I AM YELLING.

IT'S VERY EMOTIONAL AND NIGHTINGALES AND THEY TOAST THE WORLD AND I'M VERY EMOTIONAL BUT I'M COPING BY THREATENING MURDER BECAUSE I WAS FUCKING RIGHT.

THE END.

SEE YOU GUYS TODAY AT SEASON 2 I GUESS GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

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slvtforfiction · 1 year ago

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“Say it and I’m yours.”

☆ Colby X reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Suggestive ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Ex-lovers to lovers (?)

☆ Jealous!Colby ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Masterlist

☆ Kat and Sam are still together in this ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I’ve lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ A like,reblog and comment is always appreciated:) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

I was sick and tired and fucked in the head. It had been two weeks since that argument,how many girls had I seen go into Colby’s room since? I lost count after 20.

It took him about 3 hours to move on as if I was nothing and I was still thinking about him and I hate that I can’t just hate him like a normal person would.

I knew I had to get over him like he was doing and instead of sleeping with the thousands of girls he’s sleeping with maybe I sleep with one of the trap house boys that I’ve always had a silly crush on.

“Jake come over.” I said on the phone to him, “Why?” He asked and I smiled laughing to myself manically “Come and fuck me.” I said as if I had told him about the weather.

“On my way.” He said quickly and I hung up waiting for him to come knocking.

“Fuck Jake!” I screamed loudly as he entered into me. “Fuck Sweetheart.” He said before I let out the most pornographic moan,to annoy Colby.I began cumming on his cock as he came with me.

Jake helped me lie down on the bed as he grabbed his shirt and put it over my arms,before putting on his boxers and then lying next to me as I rested my head on his chest.

When I woke up I walked downstairs to see Jake getting ready to leave and I smiled at him. “I’ll see you later yeah?” I asked him hoping to see him at the party.

“Yeah I’ll see you at the party sweetheart.” He said before kissing my forehead and leaving whilst still adjusting his belt.

I turned around to walk back upstairs only to see Colby staring daggers at me. “Sleep well?” I asked sarcastically with a shit eating grin.

“Fuck you.” He said stomping his way back upstairs after I had broken down laughing my ass off at him.

I then proceeded to walk back upstairs to begin editing my newest video for my channel.

After what felt like days of editing Sam called me to come down for dinner,which was just ubered chipotle.

I ate my chipotle bowl with everyone else as I sat on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Sounds like you and Jake had a fun night huh?” Sam said laughing to himself.

“Yeah.” I laughed along with him before I saw Colby clench his hand into a fist,his knuckles turning bright white,and then walking upstairs to his room.

“What’s his issue?” Sam asked as he looked up from his food. “Someone’s mad.” I said pouting and laughing softly.

Honestly I couldn’t care less about Colby’s feelings,he ended it,began fucking other girls and then expected me to come crawling back to him? That’s laughable.

As I walked up to my room again I opened the door before being grabbed by my forearm.

“What the fuck is your issue?” I said turning around to see Colby grabbing me. The skin turned red,his knuckles turning white again and I pulled my arm away from him.

“You’re fucking Jake? Really?” He asked and I burst out laughing clapping my hands together as he stood there with steam flying out from his ears.

“Yep,why? Are you going to cry about it?” I said putting on my best baby voice,batting my eyelids and rubbing my eyes with my fists.

“Just know no one will ever be better than me.” He said trying to storm off before I retorted “Trust me he is.” He flung himself around,doing a full 180°,i blew a kiss at him and walked back into my room to finish editing my video.

Katrina 🩵:

Girl you’re going to the party arent you???

You:

Obvs girl! Yk I wouldn’t miss it!

Katrina 🩵:

You have to wear that 2 piece we got for that rave to piss off Colby!!

You:

You’re so fucking right,this is why I love u Kat

Katrina 🩵:

My stunning fashion advice? I’m aware 😘

You:

Girl I’m coming for ur wardrope next

Katrina 🩵:

Anyways I’ll see you at the party!!

You:

See ya girl!!

I wore my dainty two piece,a black top with a red bat and a short red skirt,it was perfect and I knew it was.Why? Because this is the dress that Colby ripped off of me our first night together.I laughed remembering.

I knew he would never touch me again if he were to keep up his antics and considering I knew Colby,I would think he would see me in this outfit and be all over me,no other girls.

Although knowing Colby he also might look at me and give me no second thought,maybe even laugh at me.

He was a magic eight ball with his emotions and you never knew how he would react but for now I think my plan is pretty solid.

Kat came into my room after she had arrived to see me doing my makeup whilst sat infront of my mirror.

“Girl you look good!” She shouted and I smiled looking up at her, “Girl so do you!” I smiled back at her whilst I admired her eye shadow.

She smiled as she sat down next to me as we talked about nothing and everything together.

Kat eventually helped me do my red and glittery eye shadow after I had done some cheap mascara.

I had done cheap mascara intentionally to see Colbys later look when I walked down the stairs my sloppy mascara dripping as i pretend to clean it up.

I mean if he wants to play dirty he can start it and I will always finish it and I’ll finish it as dirty as I can play.

Kat encouraged my plan and I smiled as i schemed more throughout my head.

We walked down to the party,seeing Jake and Sam talking at the island in the kitchen,I looked around and then saw Colby grinding up against a girl I had never seen before and I laughed to myself.

God always picking the next victim huh? I thought to myself laughing silently as I smirked watching him.

I turned around and began talking to Jake whose hands eventually found my waist and whose mouth eventually found mine as our tongues clashed.

I suddenly felt someone grab the back of my waist pulling me away from Jake and into someone’s chest.

“What the fuck!” I yelled spinning myself around to find myself flush against Colby.

“What’s your problem?!” He yelled back as he dragged me upstairs,shoving me into his room and locking the door.

“What’s my fucking problem? What’s yours?! I’m enjoying myself!” I almost screamed at him,my pent up anger and stress flowing out.

I felt a tear drip down my face and quickly swiped it off hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“You’re fucking other people?!” He yelled back and I laughed at him,tearing up from amusement.

“Oh god you don’t get it do you!” I said laughing, “Fuck you!” He yelled,

“Fuck me? After every single girl I’ve seen walk in and out of your bedroom? God Colby I thought you were better than this.” I said and I turned around to leave before he said something which made me stop in place.

“I love you Y/N,Don’t do this to me!” He yelled,I smiled sarcastically “You love me? After breaking up with me,you love me?” I asked sarcastically with a smile.

“Yes,I know it’s stupid.” He said and my smile dropped,I felt bad and my heart had dropped from my chest. “It’s not.” I whispered. “Tell me to leave you alone and I will,I will move out and you won’t have to see me again,or tell me you love me too. Say it and I’m yours.” He said softly.

“Colbs,I’ve always loved you.” I said softly walking over to him,he raised his arms and I smiled accepting the hug.

“Fuck man,almost lost you.” He laughed and I smiled into his chest. “I fucking love you,Colby Brock.” I whispered as if he wasn’t meant to hear.

“I love you too, Y/N L/N.” I smiled and we walked to his bed laying down together.

We fell asleep,his arm wrapped around me and my head on his chest.

#Spotify #spotify #smut #song #romance #cute #fluff #colby brock smut #colby smut #colby brock x reader #colby brock #sam and colby fluff #colby x reader #sam and colby #jake webber

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ihavethedreamies · 8 months ago

Text

Hard to Swallow | Easy to Expert (3 v6)

Lee Yongbok (Felix) & Seo Changbin - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~3.7k

Felix/AFAB!Reader/Changbin

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Lingerie, Multiple Partners, Oral (M! Receiving), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Threesome, Double Penetration, Anal Play, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Changbin has a Big Cock (duh), Cockbulge (duh), Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex (Bad Idea, Don't Do It)

Disclaimer: I do have the whole cock-bulge thing in this. I understand this could be a bit offensive to some who are on the heavier side (I am in that group as well). Sorry if this doesn't align with your body type, this is just a work of fiction.

Author's Note: This series has seriously devolved into pure filth. I am writing these one after the other and the clear decline in purity is obvious, helps you know whose I wrote when. This one is second to last, and might actually be a little better than the one before it but…we'll see...

PS. I wrote the first A/N before I wrote Bang Chan's, and now that I have...this one is worse.

Edit (8/25/24): I changed the text/chat pictures to just text.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

-> Ver. I.N. <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Hyunjin <-

-> Ver. Han <-

-> Ver. Lee Know <-

-> Ver. Bang Chan <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"So, (Y/N) has an idea-"

"Okay, I'm in." Changbin didn't even let Felix finish the sentence.

"You have no idea what I was going to say."

"If it involved (Y/N), I'm in. What is it…?" Changbin put his phone away, leaning in as he rested his elbows on the table. No one else was in the classroom yet, but Felix still quieted his voice.

"She wants a threesome-"

"Yes."

"I know. But she requested you specifically."

"Me?" Changbin giggled like a child, "she wants me?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'm going to send you an address. Go there and ask for the item code I will send too." The older guy pulled his phone back out and typed away on it. Felix furrowed his brow, a little concerned that Changbin already had something like this planned.

"Oh, don't worry. I've had this ready for the next girl I get but none of them would have fit. (Y/N) will though." He smirked and your boyfriend's phone buzzed. He opened the message and instead of saving it, he forwarded it to you. Felix had already given you his card so you could go buy a set of lingerie if Changbin agreed. He had planned on you getting a frilly pink set, but if Changbin had a request then so be it. He added after the forward that if whatever it was did not, please you, to go ahead with the initial set.

"Can’t fucking wait, tonight?" The man bounced in his seat, once again like a child. His mannerisms did not fit him, not with his build and bulk.

"I was thinking next week, but I can see if tonight works." Felix texted you the question as well.

🐤: Changbin-hyung said yes 🐤: Wants you to go here... 🐤: Location Sent! 🗺️ ☀️: ✅ 🐤: ...and ask for item #823. 🐤: If you don't like it just get what we decided. ☀️: Okay! 🐤: He wants tonight... ☀️: Hm, okay. I'll have to go to the other store to get a matching plug. 🐤: just use my card, I'll get him to pay me back ☀️: Sure thing! 💝

The address was not too far from where you were meeting your friends for lunch so you would stop by on the way home. When you got there and requested the item, the clerk came around the counter to assist you. It was a lingerie store you had been to once before, but never got anything. It was a little higher than your price range and you made sure to remind Felix to get paid back from Changbin. The clerk measured you quickly just to get your rough numbers so she could pick a good size.

"Please wait here." She smiled, bowing slightly then went to get the item. The place was bigger than you thought from the store front, and you wondered how the hell Changbin found this place, let alone to knew what he wanted you to get. The worker came back and presented the set to you, already hanging in a bag, she would have to just zip it up. You balked at the set before you. You were expecting black leather or even latex. Maybe red or dark purple? Fishnets? No. The lingerie looked like it was supposed to be for a bride, but it was a pale blue instead of pure white. When the clerk rang the item up you almost choked on nothing, and reluctantly pulled Felix's card out of your bag. Why the hell was it half-a-million won? When you checked the register, the set was listed as Mulberry Silk Bridal Lingerie Set. Really Changbin? Trying not to seem so awkward after you paid, you bowed as you took the clothing bag from her and scampered out of the store. You still had it slung over your arm when you walked into the much more familiar adult store you and Felix frequented. The cashier didn't even acknowledge you as you headed straight to the section you needed. You were supposed to get a tail that looked like a unicorn's, braided fake hair of pink, blue, and purple. There was also a matching headband, but it didn't fit the elegance of the lingerie. Humming in thought, you ended up going with a tail plug that was made to look like a tiger's, white with black stripes. There were matching ears and you used Felix's card again, the grand total being about 30,000 won. A much more reasonable price.

"What the actual fuck Seo Changbin?" you muttered, going to stand in the full-length mirror. You had prepared yourself, accordingly, slipping the tail plug in before you put on the rest of the set. The panties weren't the same kind that Felix and you normally picked out. It was a thong, not crotchless, and you had to fenagle it to accommodate the plug. You literally got out your sewing kit, luckily having a spool of white thread at the bottom. Carefully you ripped the seams out and resewed the thong strap so you could slide the tail through. You hated ruining such an expensive piece of clothing but at least it was just the thong.

Looking in the mirror you huffed, but had to admit you looked good, like a snow tiger. The top was a corset that luckily laced in the front and had short ruffles of silk at the bottom. The corset didn't have an attached bra, it curved to rest under your breasts though, lifting them up. That was where the support was because the bra was barely that, only the edges were actually silk with some boning, but the rest of the material was sheer. The thong was made of silk as well and there was a garter belt included as well. You had clipped them to the sheer thigh-highs after you extremely carefully rolled them on. There were ruffled silk bracelets that you tied on each wrist. After seeing the ensemble, you knew your black choker would be a stark contrast, but it ended up working well with the white tiger set you had. Moving into different poses, you looked yourself over in the mirror. In the background you heard the keycode being pressed into your door and the two men shuffling in.

"Wait!" Felix called, sounding annoyed and the heavy footsteps immediately halted.

"Take your shoes off," your boyfriend scolded, and you giggled softly.

"What the hell did you make her get?" You heard your boyfriend coming down the hall and stepped back from the mirror to stand at the foot of your bed. Changbin didn't answer, but he got to see when he entered your room.

"Shit." Your boyfriend sighed. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. It was clearly a bridal set, at least it wasn't white though. You did look amazing however, and he loved that his black choker pulled out the stripes on your tail plug and your headband.

"Fuck me~" Changbin practically moaned coming in to the room as well. He desperately wanted to scoop you up, but he held back. He was getting the privilege of Felix letting him fuck his girlfriend, he would hold back.

"Rules?" You prompted Felix who came to stand beside you. He glanced at your back to see the rest of the set and made you spin slow so Changbin could see too.

"Yes~" The other man nearly hissed.

"Rule One!" You started.

"No kissing her on the lips." Felix's arm wrapped around your shoulders, his index fingers tracing your pout. You sucked the digit into your mouth playfully which made him smile.

"Two!" you said when your boyfriend took his finger back.

"You have to listen to me." Felix continued and Changbin nodded in acceptance.

"Three…"

"Only I get to take her ass." Your boyfriend finished the prompt and once again got a nod.

"Valid. Probably break her anyway." The older man acquiesced. You had a feeling about that, and you still had never seen his dick.

"Fourth! No cumming down her throat." Your boyfriend held his fingers up. He didn't get a nod from that one, his friend's face hardening a bit, but you continued.

"Finally! You don't need to use a condom, but you can't come inside." You finished.

"Why?" He looked at you, his gaze less playful than before, his tone sharper. Felix was worried about this.

"She likes it too much, so only I can. In her cunt and her throat." The man next to you hardened his tone as well and Changbin scoffed. He took his ball cap off, throwing it to the side, shaking his head and running his hand through his curly hair. You watched enthralled as he unzipped his sweatshirt and discarded it too. His black t-shirt was so tight it was like he had it painted on and you had to admit your mouth watered thinking of finally seeing him without it. He was proud of his physique but only really showed off his arms. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes playfully as you gaped at his friend and began to discard his own clothes.

"I will follow your rules…" Changbin started, undoing and removing his belt, he threw it too hard and it left a scratch on the wall. He smirked at your gaze, slowly pulling his shirt out of where he had it tucked in but didn't do anything more.

"But I want her to swallow my cum, and I want to breed her." He asserted, pulling the shirt off so roughly you heard some seams pop. Your whole body flinched when you finally got to see him, and you didn't hold in your whimper. He chuckled cockily and Felix licked his lips in thought. He knew you would LOVE it, and that is why he wanted to say no. On the other hand, just because Changbin would cum inside you, that didn't automatically mean he could make you fall over the edge too. You cast a glance at your boyfriend, trying not to plead with your gaze. But holy shit did you want that. Before Felix metaphorically broke your dam, you had never been one for anything kinky, but now…To be double sure you took the pill and was even considering getting a IUD just in case.

"She has a creampie kink, not breeding. You can cum inside, she's protected." Felix agreed to Changbin's terms but added a caveat.

"Rule one was no kissing her lips. I'll let you do what you want, but you cannot kiss her anywhere. You can't eat her out either." You looked between the two of them, waiting for the other man to answer. He didn't love those stipulations, but it would be worth it if he could fill you up.

"Fine." They shook hands and Felix gave you a positive hum and you scurried forward, hands running all over Changbin's now bare torso. He was delicious and you desperately wanted a taste. He just stood there, letting you do as you pleased, just watching as you fell to your knees. Your fingers hooked in the loops of his jeans, which were hugging his thighs perfectly, and he sighed as your hot little tongue licked up from under his belly button to as high as you could go kneeling.

"Shit (Y/N)~" He hummed, not even helping you as you undid his pants, having to tug to get the denim to unpeel from his legs. You whined, letting him get the pants off his ankles and they were shoved to where his shirts and belt lay. Felix watched amused as started to kiss Changbin's thighs, as thick as your head. He chuckled as you nibbled his inner thigh before kissing the impressive bulge held back by his boxers. He hardened further at the touch and licked over the fabric as well, your cunt already pulsing at the thought of him filling you. Giving him a coy look he smiled, "Go ahead, princess." So, you did. Slowly, like unwrapping an expensive gift, you pulled his tight briefs down and off, his cock bouncing in the air. You gaped and he smirked. He was only half hard but…You swallowed hard, wiggling your jaw back and forth, wondering if you could fit him or not. Not any longer than Felix, maybe even a bit shorter, he was THICK. Changbin just watched as your hand came shakily to encircle his cock, your fingers unable to touch. You mewled, then wrapped your other hand around him as well, pumping them as you licked around the head. His whole body seemed to quake with his groan. When he was fully hard you swallowed again. Glancing back at your boyfriend who was standing near the bed, mostly naked himself, he nodded. Changbin grinned at the round ears on your headband and the tail flowing out behind where you kneeled. However, seeing you in the pale blue silk he picked out was definitely the best.

"Go on, princess." He urged and you breathed hard through your nose, adjusting your pose, opening your mouth as wide as you could. It seemed he wasn't that thick, but your jaw did still protest some. You moaned when the taste of his precum hit your tongue and he groaned too. Leaving one hand at the base of him, the other went to lay on his hip, sliding up and over the v-line of his torso.

"So good~" He praised as you huffed through your nose, tongue swirling over just his tip still. He knew he could cum alone from that, but he knew you could do more. When the plug inside you buzzed on you whined, and Changbin saw Felix messing with his phone. You focused, trying to keep your lips over your teeth and took his fat cock deeper. When the head hit the back of your mouth, you did gag slightly, not accustomed to his girth. He tasted amazing and you were eagerly anticipating him painting your throat white. You swallowed a few times, trying to relax the muscles, but pull back some to take a deeper breath. After another measured breath, you swallowed him back in and descended further. He groaned dramatically as your throat fluttered around his dick, you were gagging slightly, tears springing to your eyes. Despite the struggle, you still wanted desperately for him to fit inside all the way at least once. Pulling back, sucking as you went, he sighed, watching intently as you took another deep breath before going back down. You whined as you managed to get him completely in, swallowing over and over trying not to gag too bad. You had no way to get air in, so you didn't even try, but your nostrils flared as the tip of your nose touched his pelvis.

"Fuck! (Y/N)~" How bad Changbin wanted to grab your head and pump his hips, but he didn't want to hurt you. When it was getting too hard to last without air, you pulled your head back just enough that you could suck in more oxygen through your nose. Felix watched, amazed that you fit his friend's huge cock in your mouth. Drops of drool and pre splattered on the floor in front of you as you bobbed your head, letting Changbin's cock bury completely every once and awhile when you tolerated. Felix knew his friend had the stamina of an ox, but he looked close to cumming already. Of course, his sweet (Y/N) sucked dick like no other.

"Ah, I'm close princess." Changbin huffed out and you braced yourself on the floor. Felix recognized your stance immediately.

"You can thrust but don't go too deep till you finish." Your boyfriend instructed the other man. He nodded, and his strong hands went to your head.

"Ready?" He asked and you hummed, teary eyes meeting his. He swore under his breath and did as he was allowed, starting to pummel your poor throat with his cock. More tears spilled from your eyes, the obscene sound caused by your drool and his precum echoed through your bedroom.

"Okay, one, two-" Changbin didn't get the next word out before he filled you full, cumming down your throat. Your eyes rolled back, cunt clenching and you lost count of how many times you had to swallow to get everything he gave you. You didn't cum, but Felix wasn't overly keen about how turned on you did get. Just when your vision started to swim, Changbin pulled out and you swallowed a few more times. Your throat hurt, sorer than when Felix did the same thing. Your boyfriend came to you with a bottle of water. You gulped some down, the cool liquid soothing your throat but also helping wash down the thick cum still in your mouth.

"Fuck." Changbin huffed simply.

"You okay, love?" Felix made sure you nodded, letting out a hoarse, "Yes." You glanced to the other man and your eyes widened. His cock hadn't softened at all and was still covered in a thick layer of fluids. He stroked over it with his hand, smiling at the slick.

"Hurry up, 'Lix. I need her cunt." Changbin stared at you, his gaze fiery. The playfulness and glee from before were gone, covered by molten lust and you shivered a bit. With what he just did to your mouth, you were worried about your pussy.

"Come here, love." Felix led you to stand and go over to the bed. Changbin followed and as he got on the bed, sitting at the top in the middle. He leaned back casually into the headboard, motioning you closer. You crawled on after him and straddled him, your legs spread much wider to accommodate his thick thighs than with Felix.

"Who do you want inside first?" your boyfriend asked and you pondered a second. You could handle the stretch of Felix's dick in your ass easier and get used to it faster than you probably could with Changbin in your cunt. Because of that you thought the latter should go first. The elder man's cock was still painted with your spit and his cum, your core dripping so much, you knew no lube would be needed. He positioned you so the tip of his cock rested at your entrance. He grunted at how hot and wet you were, losing patience.

"Go." Felix gave him the okay and Changbin's hands on your hips led you down. Your jaw fell open, your breath hitching as he stretched you open. Felix wasn't small by any means, but everything about Changbin was girthy. You shivered as he filled you, not even fully inside yet, a small bulge protruded from your lower stomach. Your body shivered, breathy moans leaving your lips as he bottomed out. Your cunt fluttered around him, more of your slick dripping down to smear over his groin.

"Shit, princess." He chuckled, holding you to him when you fell forward. He could feel the plug in your ass through the walls of your cunt, and he hadn't even noticed it was buzzing still. You whimpered softly when the vibrations ceased, Felix coming up behind you. He wrapped his hand through the tail of the plug and pulled softly, easing it out of you. You sighed, letting out a squeak as Felix dripped more of lube onto your ass, smearing more on his cock. He couldn't believe the sight of your tiny cunt stretched over Changbin, trying desperately to hold him in. He was a little miffed that you were so close already, but he knew he would throw you over the edge when he buried his own cock in your ass.

"Ready, love?" he asked, thumbs rubbing circles over your hips. You let out a small noise Changbin couldn't discern, but Felix heard you loud and clear.

"Breathe." He didn't even have to lead Changbin to rub your back, helping you relax. Your boyfriend started to ease into you, and you focused on the hand rubbing over your spine, breathing hard. The stretch set you on fire, your cunt fluttering. Felix bottomed out and you twitched aggressively, and when he grinded slightly into you, you fell apart. He smirked, grunting hard at the squeeze. Your ass was always tight anyways, let alone with his friend's cock splitting you in half. Your teeth had sunk into the muscle of Changbin's shoulder, and he hoped you left a mark.

"I'm not gonna move. Fuck her ass full of your cum then I'll blow her back out." The older man held you close, your orgasm dying but you still shivered. You had no more strength. Felix made sure you were okay with it and interpreted your little whimper as a positive. He nodded and started with short but deep thrusts and Changbin grinned at how your pussy clenched around him, even able to feel your boyfriend fucking into you.

"Fuck, you're milking me, love." Felix's deep voice rumbled through you, and you whined.

"'Lix~" You moaned, and he huffed with a grin. Two more thrusts and you squealed as he painted your ass white with his cum. You came again, Changbin recognizing the clenching of your core.

"Ah, fuck…" Felix groaned, pulling out of you.

"Off." Changbin motioned to him, holding you closer and he scrambled to the side, still out of breath. He barely got off the bed before Changbin rolled forward, you under him, immediately holding you in a mating press. You squeaked at the move, your knees at your ears as his hands gripped your thighs, so tight you knew it would leave bruises.

"Hold on, princess." He warned you and you scrambled your hands, digging your white painted nails into the sheets. The headboard banged against the wall as he took his first thrust and your head fell back, nearly falling over the edge of the bed. You back arched, silent screams wracking your lungs. The noises Changbin were making sounded more like a beast than a person's and your head lulled to find your boyfriend. He was watching with slightly wide eyes, his cock already starting to harden again.

"Okay, princess, I'm gonna breed you~" The man utterly destroying your poor pussy made two more hard thrusts, then he pumped more of his cum into your protected womb than he did down your throat. You shivered, but you didn't cum again, still looking at Felix. He smirked at your gaze, nodded and you let yourself fall over the edge as well. Changbin noticed and marveled at the level of control Felix had over your body. You lay there panting under him, nearly blacked out.

"Don't let her go, 'Lix. I'll snatch her up otherwise~”

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

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gojosattoru · 1 year ago

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Hello everyone! Hope you are doing well cuties! I've missed you all so much! ^^ *hugs* So I'm doing this post to announce that I will start taking commissions again. I have been working as an illustrator, it has been really fun, my boss she's cool and has nice ideas but the issue is... she doesn't pay me on time... and sometimes I wait till 2 or 3 weeks till she pays me.. I'm really needing to gain more money... I have been trying to find a second job but it has been difficult.. No matter the curriculums I send.. no one responds or they say i don't have enough experience....... I'm really getting frustrated..

So I'm coming back, fortunately I have been feeling much better lately thanks to my psychologist and my medication. I want start editing again and tho on opening commissions on Tumblr and for Twitter! I can make icons, headers for both websites (or for any other social media if you want) I too have been doing a lot of chibi drawings, (you can see them on my art page on twitter and my blog and sideblog @letsbeeart) if you are interested and you could help me, I would really appreciate it :) If anyone wants to request feel free, but if you could give me even a small ko-fi :https://ko-fi.com/gojosattorus it would be wonderful, if not it's okay i'll do requests nonetheless ^^ so the prices for the commissions are these:

Headers alone are 10$;

Icons (anime and manga) alone are 3$;

Batch of both they are 11$.

Chibi Commissions: (i should say this, if you want to commission me chibis please ask for fandoms i'm into! Since I'm more familiar with them and gives me more motivation to draw it helps me a lot! Genshin Impact and Honkai Star Rail are good too ^^)

1 Character -> 25$;

2 Characters -> 35$

+ Characters -> 50$

with background -> 15$

It would be awesome if you guys could spread this post around as much as you can…Sorry for coming out of the blue with this.. I have been on hiatus for a month and a half due to my mental health and now I suddenly appear to open commissions (like i said i can take requests too you could give me a lil ko-fi if not it's alright too) but I have been thinking a lot recently since I don't gain THAT much and my boss always delays the pay day.. I should do something to gain more money! I have been practically doing nothing recently... So if you could support me, even just a lil it would help me a lot!.. Thank you for all your support, love, kindness and strength you have been sending to me recently and for keeping liking everything I do guys, makes me really happy whenever I see your messages ; U ; I will keep doing my most effort to create the best for you guys and I hope you like them and can enjoy too! Thanks for reading and to reblog. Anything you are interested in, or any doubt, you can always message me and we will talk things through. Wish you all the best and I love you very much!! 💖💖💖💖 Have a lovely day/night! *hugs* Take care!

#personal #dailyanime #animangacreators #hyeahjujutsu #anisource #headers #icons #chibi #fanarts #please spread the word guys!#if you can ^^#thank you again!#hope you are having a wonderful weekend! <3

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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Royal Pain Part 9

Hello! Thank you so much for the out pouring of support last time. I love that everyone loved the tattoo idea. If you want to see a basic idea of what it would look like, check the reblogs of part 8 (though if I had the energy I would throw into an editing program I’d skinny up the sword a bit and make the wings wider).

We meet the candidates for the apprenticeship and we learn the history of Jeff’s tattoo (warning for racism and bad cops) and Eddie’s reason for the wings.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Steve walked back to the front the little paper in his shaking hands.

“I’ve already had a couple people this morning asking about the apprentice gig,” Robin told him. “When should I have them come in?”

Steve rubbed him bottom lip thoughtfully. “I don’t have to go to Dustin’s until 5pm on Sunday, so have them all come at 10am then.”

Robin nodded. “He choose a design then?” she asked, nodded to the paper in his hand.

Steve nodded back his lips pressed together as he handed it to her to scan.

She looked down at it in shock. “He picked this one?”

Steve nodded again, unsure if he could trust himself to speak.

“This is going to take a long time and a lot of money,” Robin whispered. “He’s aware of that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve croaked. “He knows. He was very insistent and is able to pay for it. All of it.”

Robin nodded. “Then let’s get this bad boy printed for him then.”

She printed it into three pieces. One for each wing and one for the sword.

When he came back into the room, Eddie was laying on his chest with his shirt off. Steve licked his lips as his eyes trailed down the plains of Eddie’s back to where it dipped into the man’s jeans.

This was going to be a lot harder than he thought it was going to be.

“Okay,” Steve said after taking a moment to compose himself. “What we are going to do is trace the outlines and then we’ll spend two to three hours each week, working on it. It will probably take about ten to twelve weeks, doing it once a week. So if you want to move it up two days a week, I would recommend that.”

Eddie twisted to face him. “Yeah, I figured it was going to take some time. When I set up my appointments with Robin, I’ll make sure to do twice a week.”

“Sounds good,” Steve said, pulling on the latex gloves and sitting down. He scooted as close to Eddie as he could and picked his gun.

“You know,” he murmured over the sound of the gun. “I don’t think you ever said why you wanted the tattoo so badly you waited to find the right person to do it for you. And thanks for trusting me with it by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” Eddie said. “The work you did on Jeff’s tattoo was phenomenal. It was a very personal tattoo for him and you made it special. Did he tell you how got the scar he wanted you to cover up?”

Steve hummed, placing the first stencil down. “Yeah, something about how when Miranda and him first starting dating, someone called the cops on him, thinking he was kidnapping her. And how despite both of them saying they were on a date and Jeff having his hands up, the cop still fired, hitting his right arm.”

Eddie nodded. “It was messed up. He thought for sure Miranda was going to book it, but they stayed together and it’s been five years now.”

“So he got it for the fifth anniversary?” Steve asked, concentrating on the outline.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “It was Miranda’s suggestion, actually.”

“They seem like great people.”

Eddie smiled fondly. “The best. I think he’s still working up the courage to ask her to marry him.”

Steve laughed. “He better hurry up otherwise Robin might try and steal her from him.”

Eddie laughed too. “Well considering they both swing for both teams, she might actually have a chance.”

“Oh god,” Steve said as he finished the first wing. “Don’t tell Robin that. She might actually try. And I don’t want to mess up a good thing, you know?”

“Fair.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip a moment. “But, yeah, the tattoo. It’s to commemorate a poor boy from the trailer park making it in the big city to play music for a living. Actually fucking making it.”

Steve smiled. “And the bat wings were for the aesthetic?”

“Hell yeah they are,” Eddie replied with a grin. “But, holy shit, Stevie. The sword of fucking Kas...it’s like you read my mind or some shit.”

Steve lifted the gun as he laughed. “Nah, I just listened when you and Dustin talked about it.”

Eddie adjusted himself in the chair and loosened the muscles in his shoulders a bit. He settled and nodded. “You did really good, sweetheart. I love it.”

They just fell into conversation as easy as breathing and far too soon Steve was done with the outline.

Steve pulled off his gloves, having set aside the gun already. “Go on, it’s not much to look at right now, but the bare bones are pretty fucking all right.’’

Eddie immediately bounced to his feet to go look in the mirror. He turned every direction and after a moment of watching him Steve stood up with a large hand mirror and tilted it until Eddie could see his back.

Eddie let out a gasp. “Holy fucking shit. This is going to be so epic. I can’t wait!”

Steve smiled fondly. “I’m glad it’s starting out okay, at least.”

Eddie grinned at him through the mirror. “It’s absolutely wicked.”

“Do you have someone who can rub the lotion on your back?” Steve asked, biting his bottom lip.

Eddie nodded. “The guys have offered to take turns helping me with it until it’s done.”

Steve hummed. He was a little disappointed. He was going to offer to do it for him. But it was a bit of a relief, knowing Eddie had such good friends that were willing to take care of him.

“That’s sweet of them,” he murmured, taking the time to gently wrap the tattoo the best he could in Saran wrap to protect it on the way home.

Eddie scoffed. “They only offered because they’re excitable children who want a sneak peak at the tattoo before anyone else.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, okay. That sounds like what I’d seen of them.”

Eddie turned around once Steve was done and grinned at him. “Am I going to see you at Nightmare Holes again this weekend?”

Steve winced. “I want to but I can’t this weekend. I’m meeting a couple people on Sunday morning morning and I cannot be hungover for that.’

Eddie huffed out a small chuckle. “Maybe.”

Steve shoved at him playfully. “I’ll make it up to you. Why don’t you come over again next Monday and I’ll make dinner for us again.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “That sounds great, wha’cha making?”

“What do you like?” Steve asked as he cleaned up. “Italian, Chinese, Mexican? Something else? I’m sure I could find a good recipe in time.”

Eddie tapped his lip with his index finger thoughtfully. “Can you do sesame chicken?”

Steve grinned. “Oh, I knew there was a reason I liked you. I love sesame chicken and have a kick ass recipe, I think you’ll love.”

Eddie grinned back. “Can’t wait pretty boy.”

Steve flicked his cleaning rag at Eddie’s ass. “Now go on, some of us poor schlubs have to work hard for our living, rock star.”

Eddie laughed in delight as he skipped away from Steve’s deadly aim with his rag. He got to the door and saluted, before turning on his heel and walking back to the front desk, shirt in hand.

Steve picked up a dozen donuts and coffees for him and Robin. Robin had already gone in to open the shop for the interviewees so he felt he owed it to her to at least get her coffee and donuts.

When he got to the shop he was a little surprised how many cars were out front. They couldn’t all be there for the apprenticeship, could they? He walked into see the entire waiting room filled with applicants.

He turned to Robin and she looked as shocked as he was. He set the donuts in front Robin’s desk and handed her the coffee.

“Hello,” he said turning around to greet the...he quickly counted, the six hopefuls. “I’m Steve Harrington and welcome to Royal Pain. You’re all welcome to have a donut and we have water and paper cups over to the side.” He gestured to where it was and most head turned to see where he meant.

“Is this really a tattoo parlor, man?” one of the applicants asked. He was what Steve would have stereotyped a California surfer boy. Bleach blond hair that fell to his shoulders, tanned skin, dark blue eyes that were currently glaring at Steve.

Steve let his shoulders roll back as he regarded the man in question. “What? The bright, colorful design precludes it from being a place people come to get tattoos, how?”

The guy leveled another glare at Steve and then leapt to his feet. “Whatever, this blows. I’m out of here.” He stormed out, pushing the door so hard it clanged against the wall harshly.

Steve looked at the remaining five. “Anyone else have a problem with the aesthetics?”

There were people that exchanged glances, but they ended up all shaking their heads no.

“Good.”

A pretty blonde girl with bright green eyes and a sparkling smile raised her hand.

“Yes?” Steve asked pointing at her.

“Not to be lumped in with the asshole that just left,” she began shyly, “but I really don’t see any tattoos on you and, well...”

Steve grinned. “And it makes it a little hard to trust me as a tattoo artist, right?”

She nodded, her high pony tail bouncing as she did.

Robin rolled her eyes, but wisely said nothing. Steve showed her his right forearm. “I didn’t do this one, this is the first tattoo I got though.” It was of a small vanilla ice cream cone. “I got this after my first real job at an ice cream shop that burned down.”

A lot of eyebrows shot up at that, but no one uttered a word.

He pulled at his collar showing a female robin on his shoulder right below the clavicle. “Got this one when my best friend turned twenty-one. She has a matching tattoo in the same place.”

He pulled up his shirt to show a lion devouring a bloody heart on his right side. “My friends called my lion-hearted, my detractors called me a bleeding heart, so I got this.”

Steve put his shirt down. “Yeah, I don’t look like your stereotypical tattoo artist that has their whole body covered in tats. But I’m one of those weirdos that only gets a tattoo if it means something to me. But make no mistake I’m good. I have had this shop for three years and only been a tattooist for five. And I’m taking on apprentices because this shop is so busy I need the help to lighten the load.”

The girl blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, heaving a heavy sigh. “People who look like me don’t usually become tattoo artists and I think that’s stupid. It shouldn’t just be a certain kind of person that has dyed black hair, piercings, and their body of work all over their body.”

She nodded. “I get what you mean.”

Steve smiled at her. “I figured you would.” He knew that if she was any good, he was going to pick her, hands down.

“Right,” he said turning his attention back to everyone. “I wasn’t expecting so many of you and I realize that isn’t fair to you. If you have somewhere else to be today, make an appointment with Robin,” he cocked his head her direction, “and I’ll meet with you personally at another time. But otherwise, I’ll have Robin call you in the order you arrived and we’ll talk in my room.”

He clapped his hands. “First, let’s give you a tour of the place and if you decide it’s not for you. No hard feelings. Except that guy.” He winked at them and they laughed.

He showed them his room and the other rooms that would be for the apprentices to practice in or once they got their own chair if they stayed, it would become their room.

One of the other guys decided that it wasn’t for him and Steve was left with four remaining hopefuls.

And what a strange bunch they were, too. He had the prep girl, but he also had a native boy that while he didn’t look the part of the surfer dude, embodied it with his very soul. If the guy got brought on, Steve would have to pull him aside and make sure he didn’t do marijuana at work, because the guy looked a little baked at the moment. He also had a Goth chick complete with the tattoos and piercings, and dyed black hair. She stuck out like a sore thumb, if Steve was honest. And the final hopeful was this squirrely looking guy with dark wavy brown hair.

All of them had more tattoos than Steve did.

He sighed to himself. He wasn’t sure this was going to work out. He knew he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, better than most, but still as he looked at the remaining applicants he felt a little disappointed.

He sighed and went back to the office to wait for Robin to call the first one in. It was going to be a long day.

***

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Look, I love Robin with all my heart, but we all know the reason she didn’t ask Vickie out wasn’t that she had a boyfriend, but that her partner was a boy. She would 100% back off if told to, but she would so go for it if she thought had a chance. (Looking at you Ronance shippers, if you think that Robin was flirting with Nancy in the Upside Down, Nancy was still with Jonathan at the time.)

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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bylerweek2023 · 2 years ago

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THEME

DESCRIPTIONS ✨️

Hello beloved Bylers!!!

In this post we're gonna explain the themes we've thought for each day of our amazing Byler Week.

But just to make it clear for everyone, this is NOT an imposition. There's no set prompt requirements, so you don't have to use exactly what we're saying here!

(Reminding you that you can post arts, fics, memes, theories, gifs, edits, and everything else you want)

The point here is for you to feel free to use your imagination and enjoy Byler Week with no pressure at all 😌

But if you want some ideas, here they are:

Day 1: 03/20 (Monday)

Theme: "Dungeons and Dragons: Cleradin"

Prompt: This is an opportunity to basically do anything related to DnD and Byler! Aka Fantasy AUs, Cleradin moments, them just playing DnD or really anything!

Day 2: 03/21 (Tuesday)

Theme: "80s films"

Prompt: Take any film from the 80s (or older) and make a Byler AU out of it! (This can be just a scene or even a line!)

Day 3: 03/22 (Wednesday) WILL'S BIRTHDAY!!!

Theme: "Birthdaygate/Byler gates"

Prompt: In honor of Will's birthday, the day's theme is Birthdaygate, but this is a time to bring back your favorite gates! (Flickergate, Eightfifteengate, Mikhailgate, Babygirlgate, etc.)

Day 4: 03/23 (Thursday)

Theme: "Summer Love"

Prompt: Have you had that summer love "experience"? That one person that you've met in a summer camp, on a trip? That person that maybe you'll never see again but will always be on your mind? (What if...)

Day 5: 03/24 (Friday)

Theme: "Secret Identities"

Prompt: A chance to make anything related to secret identities. This includes anything from Masquerades, Superhero/Vigilante AUs, Secret Lives/Jobs, and more!

Day 6: 03/25 (Saturday)

Theme: "Pre-volume two"

Prompt: Channel your inner pre-vol 2 Byler wishes and desires! Motel confessions? Theories about Will's painting? Gas station stops?

Day 7: 03/26 (Sunday)

Theme: "Soulmates"

Prompt: Any soulmate AU you've been obsessed over in the past! Seeing colour for the first time? Countdown? First words on arm? Red strings of fate? Take your pick!

We hope you like the ideas!! Let us know what you think about them!!!

LET'S GO!!!

Reblog to let everyone know about the prompts and don't forget to tag #bylerweek2023 !!!!!

SEE YOU SOON 💙💛

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hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog · 8 months ago

Note

Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt. He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from. He realizes he loves her, but may lose her. After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.

@deans-spinster-witch thank you for this ask. Actually thank you all that submit asks or sent me story prompts, I am going to get to them all, but I thought this one would be a good place to start.

First let me start off with my disclaimers:

1) I haven't see the last few seasons of SPN, so I don't know how they addressed COVID, if they did at all. So think of it as alternative timeline, not really canon.

2) My COVID representation is probably not 100% accurate, either by the reader symptoms or that I don't mention Dean wearing a mask or that he was able to be in the hospital with the reader.

3) I just POV and I think I may have jump from 2nd to 3rd person writing? I did my best to correct it, but sometimes I can't seem to correct it. Also did my best with editing, but I am sure I missed something. Flashbacks are bold italic and internal thoughts are just italic.

4) I am not sure if this is 100% what you were looking for. It does end on a cliffhanger, so I will be posting a second part. It was getting hella long coming in at 7,500 words. 😬 sorry.

5) swearing, hints of past trauma that we may get more in the second part. Self doubt/hate. Angst heavy!

Okay think that's it. It's a Y/N x Dean focus story with Sam making an appearance via phone. Characters are not mine but the work is. So please don't post as your own.

Feel free to like, reblog, send me feedback in the comments. And if you have a story idea, send it my way via asks or message. Or if you want me to tag you on my work let me know.

Okay think I have stalled long enough. Here it is, my first story back from 3 year break.

JUST BREATHE-

"Excuse me, sir, you can't be up here." A female voice, strong, laced with exhaustion, mixes with the sounds of the hospital. Doctors are being paged, staff are going in and out of rooms, and machines are monitoring patients. All of it, white noise, too, Dean. Because he can't look away or tear his eyes from what is in front of him. Y/N is lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a ventilator. What happened? How did it come on so strong and so fast? He had just seen you last week when he came through town on his way to his next hunt. Picking up research that you had done for him since Sam was working on another case in California. You were the best…no, are, you are the best researcher he knows…you have to get better; you can't…

"Sir! I will have to ask you to leave if you're not family. The ICU is only for families." The female voce, insistent on getting him to pay attention to her. Tired, she was just so damn tired of no one listing to her today; she had better things to do than police people about.

"How long has she been here?" Dean asks, his voice firm but slightly wavering. He can't look away, watching as the vent goes up and down, breathing for you. Y/N, come on, you have to pull through; I can't lose you, Dean thinks, trying his best not to break. He prayed to God if he thought it would help if he thought the ass would be listing.

"Sir, I can't give that information if you're not family." Dean looks away from you for a moment, noticing the nurse standing beside him. She is dressed in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back, and a mask on. He can tell she is on her last nerve with him, and he has to win her over. He can't leave you, not now. "So, are you family?" she asks again.

"Umm…" He knew he needed to lie. If he told her that you were just a friend, he would never get answers and would never get back to this floor again. It was dumb luck that he could get your room number out of the receptionist downstairs. He pulled himself together to give her his winning smile and wink. "She's my sister." Clearing his throat, he looked back to you.

The nurse looks down at the chart in her hand. "Miss. Moore didn't have a brother listed as next of kin, but then again, a neighbor brought her in." Looking back up to Dean, he doesn't respond. "How about we go somewhere a little more private to discuss your sister's condition?" She lightly grabs Dean by the shoulder and turns him away from the window and you.

********

Dean did his best to listen to the nurse, but all he really wanted to do was get back to you. It was driving him crazy that he couldn't do anything; this wasn't caused by a demon, monster, or anything in his wheelhouse. You were brought in about a day or two after he had seen you. Your neighbor had come over to borrow something and saw you in the window, passed out on the floor. COVID had hit you hard, and you just couldn't shake it; your lungs filled up so fast with fluids that you passed out.

That was a week ago; you had been in the hospital for a week and on a ventilator. The doctors feel that your body just needs time to fight off the infection.

"She seemed fine when I saw her last; how could this happen?" Dean questions, trying to be as respectful as possible without raising his voice and getting kicked out.

"COVID hits everyone differently; we really don't know why. Some people may never get it, and some…" Not finishing her statement, the nurse looks away from Dean.

"Can I go back and sit with her?" Dean asks, more like pleading with her. He just wants to ensure you're doing alright and stand watch until you wake up. He doesn't know what else to do.

"I am sorry, but no," the nurse replies as kindly as possible. Seeing that he will protest this, she quickly adds, "But, you can come back during visiting hours. You won't be able to go in the room; we have to keep it clean because of COVID, but you can see her from the window." Hoping this will be a compromise he can live with. She doesn't want him to get upset and have to call security and have him escorted out. She can tell he cares for her and is scared.

Dean will take it; he knows he has to. You're the strongest person he knows. You will get through this; you have to. "Alright, I guess I will come back then," Dean says, getting up from the table.

********

Walking out of the hospital, Dean calls Sam to tell him what is happening and that he wasn't leaving until you were back home. Screw the world, let the monsters run amuck, and let demons rain hell on earth; he had more important things to do. "I don't care, Sammy, I am not leaving again. This is the only number you can reach me at, and only you," he says, getting into the Impala and firing it up.

"Alright, Dean. I hear you. Do you want me to come? I am almost done here." Sam offers, knowing that Dean won't take him up on it.

"No, I am good, but thanks. You stay on the West Coast until the world calms itself down." Letting the engine run for a bit, Dean takes a second. This has been the longest they have been working apart. It's been hard on both of them, but at least Dean has you to talk to. He has been leaning on you more since Sam was in California. Could Dean have caused this? Was he asking too much of you?

"Dean, hey, you still there?" Sam breaks through his intrusive thoughts.

Clearing his voice, "Yeah."

"You know, she will get through this. She's going to be okay," Sam says, trying his best to reassure him and get him out of his head because even if they are miles apart, he knows his brother. Dean is blaming himself right now for something that he can't control.

“Yeah, I know… I just… what if I…..”

"No, don't think like that, and don't think you had anything to do with this happening." Sam quips back, knowing where his brother's thoughts are going, and he will not have him spiraling out.

"But I ask so much of her. You know she will never say no. Even when she has other things to do, she always drops everything when I ask for a favor. God, I am such a user…"

"No, you're not. Y/N is strong, and she said she would tell you if she didn't want to do something. She wants to help; she thrives on researching this stuff, and you know it." Sam states, "Come on, you know she would rather research lore or listen to one of your 'tales from the front lines,' as she likes to call them, any day of the week."

The thought of you saying these words to him as you patch him up, 'Alright, Dean, what tales to do we have this time?' or how your voice would be giddy when he called you about a case he found. "Yeah, you're right, Sam," Dean replies. Feeling a bit better after talking with Sam, he always knows how to keep him from spiraling too much.

"I know I am; now go get some rest. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

"Night brother"

After hanging up the phone, Dean didn't want to go to a hotel or bar, but he was now wired and needed to do something. Pulling out of the parking lot was second nature, and he found his way to your driveway.

Sitting there, looking at the modest, two-bedroom, two-bath house, he would consider a second home for as much time as he has spent there. It was odd to think about walking through that door and you not being there. When getting out of the car, the sound of the door opening and closing is the only noise that breaks up the silence of the night. Taking a few steps, Dean stops himself from knocking like he usually does. Habit, he thinks. Pulling his keys out, he flips until he finds the one for your house.

It was an argument you had won, not that he didn't want a key. Of course, he did, but he didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands should something happen.

"No, I don't need a key, Y/N," Dean protest, not wanting to have this conversation right now.

"Yes, you do; now take it." You say, holding out the key for him to take.

"I don't need it; you're always here. Why would I need to get into your place when you're not here?" he questions. Finishing off his beer, he gets up from the couch and heads toward the kitchen. "You want another one?" he asks, trying to change the subject.

You get up and follow him. "Don't change the subject, Winchester," you say, following him and sitting on a kitchen stool. What if I wasn't home tonight?"

Tossing the empty bottle in the recycle bin and turning to face her, he can tell by the severe look on your face that this is an argument that he won't win. But why make it easy on you. "But you were," giving you a smirk, he opens the fridge to pull out two more bottles. "Besides, where would you be on a Friday night? You have a hot date I don't know about?" he questions. Handing one of the bottles to you.

He struggles slightly to open the bottle with his left hand since his right is currently in a sling. After putting his shoulder back into place and stitching him up, you open the beer in your hand, hand it to him, and take the other one from him. "Maybe," you say cryptically, a twinkle in your eyes.

"Really? Didn't know you were dating anyone?" Dean is slightly put off by this. It's not that someone would want to date you; it's the opposite. You're beautiful, and he always wonders how you were still single after all this time. Intelligent and funny, any guy would be lucky to call you his. Heck, he would like to call you his.

"I am not," you say, putting him out of his misery and his slight spiral of another guy touching her, kissing her… But I could still be out. Do you want to be sitting out in your car waiting for me to get home?" you question, pushing the key towards him. "Just take the dam key. It's only a key. I am not asking you to move in with me."

If you asked him that, he would say yes in a heartbeat. But the reality of his life, what he and Sam do for a living, gives him pause to take the key. "I just don't want anyone else to get their hands on it."

"Who, like Sam? Of course, you can give a copy to Sam." You joke, knowing what he's getting at but trying your best to keep this conversation light.

"No, not Sam. I am thinking Crowley, another demon or monster, or worse, Lucifer. I would hate for anyone other than Sam or me to get their hands on this and come after you."

"Dean, that's not going to happen."

"But it could, you know it could."

Letting out a sigh, you decide to pull out the big guns to get him to take this damn key. "A key is not their first choice to get in. You have put up all the wards you could think of." You say, proving that you are as safe as possible. "Heck, you made me even get this thing." Snapping off your leather bracelet to show off the anti-possession tattoo. "and you know how much I hate needles." The black tattoo shows nicely against your light skin and hides the other barely visible scars.

"Yeah, I found out real quick that day. I think I still have scars on my arm from you digging your nails in," he jokes, bringing his hand up to his wrist to run his fingers around the tattoo and the scars he knows are there.

"Haha, that's real funny." You fake laugh. " Just take it, please. It will make me feel better if you have it." You do your best puppy dog eyes as you push the key closer to him.

Dean takes a moment before caving. "Alright, but I am only going to use it for emergencies." he conceits, taking his keys out and putting your house key on the ring with the rest.

Getting up from the stool, you smile at him, "Thank you, Dean," you say sweetly and hug him.

Dean shakes his head, trying to shake the thoughts from that night, as he shuts the door behind him. He stood in the entryway, just taking in the quietness of the house, holding his breath, waiting for you to come down the hallway, saying, ‘Dean, you look like shit; what were you up against this time? Let me get you patched up, and you can tell me all about it.’ Guiding him to the kitchen, you would pull the first aid kit and a beer from the fridge.

Watching these memories play out in front of him, it's not until he lets out a shaky breath that he had been holding that he feels the tears run down his face, "Fuck! Y/N, you got to get better, okay…." choking back, "I can't lose you." The thought of losing another important person in his life. Someone who should have a happy and long life and who, without them, Dean wouldn't be standing here today. He owes everything to you.

Dean can't bring himself to step past the entryway, feeling like an intruder. "I can't…" feeling pressure in his chest, he turns and walks out the door. Locking the door and making the short walk to his car, the pressure subsides once he is in the driving seat. Knowing he can't stay in the house. Too many memories of you and his dark thoughts will keep him up. He also can't put the car in drive and go to the motel just outside of town. It's like his body won't let him leave.

*******

Y/N POV

You were in the hospital for two weeks, and Dean was by your side, or somewhat outside your hospital room, every day, every hour he could be. At least that is what the nurse told you once you were awake. Your 'brother' Dean has been by your side. The first time they told you this, you looked confused, which caused concern from the staff.

"Your brother, Dean," the nurse says again, her voice laced with concern as she points to the window that looks into your room from the hallway.

You turn your head slightly, your body stiff from being in bed for so long, and the breathing tube just being taken out. There you see him, Dean Winchester, raising his hand to give you a short wave, and a look of relief washes over his face, which is covered with a slightly heavy five-clock shadow. You give him a smile and look back at the nurse. "Yeah, sorry, of course, he's my brother. Just didn't know anyone called him?" you reply, "Can I have some water?" you ask, you're throat feeling like sandpaper.

"Sure," the nurse says, filling a cup and handing it to you. "Well, the doctor will be in soon," she says, giving you a short smile and walking towards the door.

"Umm, can my brother come in?" you ask. Knowing that no matter what she says, Dean will make it in here one way or the other. The nurse hesitates. "It's just that I would like him to hear what the doctor says. I am still groggy, not sure I am going to remember everything he tells me," you add, hoping this will pull on her heartstrings just a bit.

Which does work, "Sure." she replies, giving you a smile and then walking out the door. She briefly talks to Dean before walking away, and Dean enters the room.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean says, shutting the door behind him and walking towards you.

"Hey yourself," you reply. You try to sit up a bit more, but you struggle a bit.

Dean quickly gets to you. " Here, let me," he says, finding the remote for the bed, setting you upright, and then readjusting your pillows. "Good?" he asks once it looks like you're settled.

Feeling slightly embarrassed that he saw you like this, you’re sure you're a mess, bed hair, hospital gowns, and oh man…your breath has got to stink by now, right? Trying your best not to breathe out, "Yeah, thanks." you quickly reply. Dean sits in the chair next to your bed but doesn't say anything. Okay, guess you will start. "So brother, hum?" you quip.

He smiles at this and looks away from you to the bedding. "Yeah, I had to say something; otherwise, they would never let me back in." Then, looking back at you, a slight panic sets in that you might be mad at him for this small lie. " You're not mad, are you?" he asks.

"No, of course not," you reply, wanting to reassure him that everything is fine. This does, as relief washes over him a second time. You hold out your hand for him to take. "Just wonder what Sam will say about having a little sister, that's all. I am sure he will hate being the middle child," you joke.

Dean gives a short laugh: "Oh, Sammy will be all right with it. He will be happy to hear you're awake, is all." Dean's fingers rubbing your hand back and forth are nice.

"How did you know I was here?" you ask, trying to remember the day before you were brought in, but it's all a blur. Was he coming to see you? Was he working on a case?

"I was coming back through, and you had helped me with the case in North Carolina…" lowering his voice, even though you're in a private room," that Dinji." Dean recounts, seeing you not remember. He continues, "I stopped by your place, and your neighbor was out and said you were in the hospital."

None of that is registering at all, like last month, which is a blank slate. Fuck, what else are you not remembering? "And you have been here this whole time?" you ask, wondering what the state of the world must be like if he has taken himself out of saving the world for two weeks! Is Sam okay?

Dean's eyes, bright green, lock with yours, cocking his head slightly to the side, with slight confusion at your shock that he was here the whole time. "Of course, where else would I be? I wasn't going to leave you alone here," he says, a matter of fact.

You're about to reply to this, ask more questions, ask how Sam is, but before you can, the doctor enters the room. "Miss. Moore, welcome back," he says, looking at your chart and then at you and Dean. And this must be your brother?" he asks, holding his hand for Dean to shake.

Dean does, letting go of yours, the loss of him, his touch is apparent. "Hey, doc, when can I take my sister home?" Dean asks.

The doctor starts to talk, but you're not listening; your mind drifts to Dean. He put his life on pause for you? Wow, that's something, but you're sure he would do it for Charlie, Jody, Claire, or Alex, right? Yeah, of course. Dean sees you as family, which is what you are to him; that's what you will always be. Yes, you were close. He and Sam saved you from the vampire nest, explained everything about their world, and gave you a purpose.

You feel a slight pressure in your chest. Now that you're awake, how long will he stay before he leaves again?

"So I will get the nurse to start the discharge paperwork, and you guys should be out of there in a few hours," the doctor says. Giving you a smile.

Not hearing anything but that, you just smile back and look towards the window. You hear Dean thank the doctor, and he leaves the room. "nice guy," Dean says, filling up the silence.

"Yeah," you reply. You’re not sure what you are feeling; it's almost like a weight on your chest, pressure. Maybe it is COVID; it will be better once you get home. It has to, right?

******

You didn't know Dean could fuss over you more if he tried. He insisted that he be the one to wheel you out of the hospital, only after he made sure the car was pulled up as close to the door as possible so you didn't have to walk too far. Then, when he pulled into your driveway, he insisted he carry you the short walk to the front door.

"No, Dean, I can walk. My legs aren't broken; I had COVID, that's all." you quip back as he comes over to your side of the car to pick you up.

"The doctor said you shouldn’t over-exaggerate yourself, that's all," he replies, trying again to wrap his arms around your waist and pick you up from standing against the closed car door.

You block his hands again. As much as you would like his arms around you, have him cradle you; where is this coming from? You also don't want him to hurt himself, or God forbid the neighbors see him carrying you bridle style. "Yeah, walking the three feet to my front door is not going to kill me." This comment is like a punch in the gut for Dean; it's written on his face. Shit, was my COVID scare that much of an effect on him? But why? Trying to write your wrong, you try to play it off. "Come on, man, I have been on my back for two weeks and must move a little bit." You quip back. Playfully pushing him aside and walking towards the door.

You get to the door but realize you don't have your keys, you didn't have those, or your phone when you were brought into the hospital. You wait for Dean to come up behind you. He doesn't say anything, pulling out his keys; he opens the door and lets you walk in first. You shuck off your jacket and shoes and go to the living room. Sitting on the couch, you try to hide the sigh of exhaustions that you feel from the small activities you just did; but it slips past your lips and is not lost on Dean.

"Want me to make you some tea? You hungry?" Dean asks.

"No, I want you to tell me what's happened since I was in the hospital. Did all the evil in the world decide to take a break while I was out, and that's how you got to have some time off?" you question, motioning him to sit next to you on the couch.

Dean shrugs at this, "No. I just told Sam I was taking myself off the board, is all." he says casually.

"Taking yourself off the board? Hum, I didn't know you guys could do that," you ask, Giving him an intuitive look.

Dean is giving you nothing back, shaking his head, looking around the room, and clapping his hands together. He points towards the kitchen, "I am going to make that tea for you." He walks away before you can stop him, leaving you to your thoughts. Something else is happening, and you know who to call to get the truth out.

******

Making that call seem more complicated than usual since Dean didn't leave your side for anything. Three days, three days of hovering and mothering you, and as much as you care for Dean, and possibly secretly loved him. Let's face it, those chest tightening pains at the hospital, the loss of his touch was not COVID symptoms, it was your heart telling you what you already knew. You were in love with Dean Winchester, and the fact that he dropped everything for you made your head spin and feel like the most important girl in the world. But you are a realist, and Dean Winchester is out of your league. He sees you as the little sister he got settled with, not the girl he wants to kiss and do other things with.

On top of that, you are sure his opinions of you drop a few points since you found out really quick that to pass the time while he waited for you to wake up, he decided to clean your house from top to bottom. The sheer embarrassment when you found out had you want the couch to swallow you up right there. "Excuse me, you did what?" you ask, thinking you didn't hear him right when you ask; the following day, a book you usually had on your coffee table was now on the bookshelf that it was never on.

"I did some cleaning while you were…" Dean says, not finishing that statement while he grabs the few dishes off the coffee table and heads towards the kitchen. He never finishes that statement. Whenever he says it, he never says 'when you were in the hospital' or 'when you were sick.' After three days of the hanging statement, you get frustrated over that.

But knowing he cleaned your house, how clean is clean? Did he do your laundry? Yep! Did he clean under your bed and put stuff away on your nightstand? God forbid he did a deep clean in your closet—oh, the embarrassment. "Why?" you ask, now following him, waiting for an answer that you sure won't come.

Dean has his back to you, rinsing off the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. "What? It's not a big deal. I had time, plus the nurse thought it was a good idea for you to come home to a clean hose." He says while wiping down the counter.

You try your best to breathe and calm down. Yes, all that is true, a clean house to come home too make sense. But having him go through your personal and private things, fuck, him cleaning your underwear. He will never look at you as desirable again, not like he did before. You look up from the floor to see him watching you, waiting for a reply. "thanks, I guess," you say, defeated. "I am going to go take a shower." You say, needing just a few minutes by yourself, shake off this feeling of rejection you know he doesn't realize he caused.

"You need some help?" he asks, approaching you and walking a step behind you.

You take a second, knowing again that he just wants to help, but God treats you like an old woman. Because you know that his offer of 'helping you out' in the shower does not imply sexy times; it's he saying he thinks you are weak and that you're going to get tired, fall, and hurt yourself. You get to the bathroom door. "No, I got it, thanks," you say, opening the door and shutting it before he can say anything.

*****

Dean POV

I know I am being overprotective, maybe even going overboard with not letting her do anything, and perhaps the deep clean was an overreach. But in my defense, I thought I could lose her, and if she was going to, no, when she was going to come home, I wanted it to be in a clean, COVID-free house.

I turn away from the bathroom door and walk towards the living room. I start to clean up, picking up the discarded blanket from my makeshift bed; even though she has a spare room, it's on the second floor away from her, and I want to be close in case she needs me in the night.

The rigging of my phone pulls me from my thoughts of her. Picking up, I see it's Sam. "Hey, what's up?" I ask, dropping the blanket and myself onto the couch.

"Just checking in, how's Y/N?"

"Good, still low energy, but I am just happy she’s walking and talking, even if I am annoying her."

"You, annoying her, I can't believe it," Sam says, with fake shock. "You know she can take care of herself; she has been doing that for some time now." Sam reminds me. Knowing that my hovering is coming for a place of love for Y/N, but it could be doing more damage than good.

"I know, it's just…" I pause briefly, looking back to see the closed bathroom door. "Sam, she just looked so helpless there lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to those machines…and there was nothing I could do…nothing that could save her…I just had to wait."

Sam knows that's not my strong suit, "I know, I get it, but maybe just ease off a little. I am sure it's making her feel like a burden, you doing everything for her."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I will try."

"I know I am." He clears his throat and paused briefly before asking what he knew I would not want to answer: "So when are you heading back to the bunker?"

I pause momentarily; the idea of leaving you hadn't crossed his mind. "Umm…" Hearing the door open, he looks to see you walking out of the bathroom and down the hallway to your room, wrapped in your navy-blue plaid robe, hair slightly damp from the shower. "Not sure yet, but I will keep you posted. I got to go." I say quickly, hanging up the phone. I know that she can take care of herself, but at the same time, I don't want to leave her again; what if I do and something happens, and there is no one here to save her again. Sam's right, though; I have to back off, or I am liable to smother her.

*****

Y/N POV (about a week later)

Something seems to have changed in Dean in the last few days. It was like the old carefree Dean was back. He hovered less, not watching my every move, and even went on a quick day trip to the bunker to pick up more books for me to read since I had read everything in my place twice, and if I was going to be stuck inside I wanted to do something productive. Granted, I had to ride shotgun on this trip, so although we got out of the house, I was still under his protective eye. But he wasn't babying me anymore; he cracked jokes, smiled, and even complained when I made him watch the same movie repeatedly.

Dean was going on a food run, and this was one outing he didn't let me go on. Too many people, could possibly get sick again, so he didn't want to risk it. But he also hated doing it, leaving you alone. "You're sure you're going to be fine," he asks again, standing in the doorway, you on the other side, trying your best not to push him out and lock the door.

"Yes, Dean, you'll be gone for an hour. I think I can survive." you quip, pushing him playfully, "Go, I promise, no running around the house with scissors or jumping on the bed. I will keep my butt on the couch until you get back."

Dean's worried face slightly softens, knowing that you will be fine, but that pit in his stomach—the thought of him walking out that door again and not having you in his sight—will never go away. "Okay, but call me if you feel off," he reminds you again.

"Yes, now go." You reply with a smile. Yes, he was getting on your nerves slightly, but you still loved the guy for it.

You watch as he pulls out of the driveway and down the road before you head inside. Walking to your room, you find your cell phone charging, and you quickly make the call you've been waiting to make since you got home.

He picked up on the second ring: "Y/N, everything alright? Dean texted me to say he was going on a food run. Do you need him? Are you not feeling well?…" Sam blurts out, a lengthy, run-on statement that has you slightly spinning.

Trying your best not to laugh at him. "Sam, calm down; I am good. I just wanted to talk to my friend. How are you?" you ask, wanting to ease into this discussion. Plus, you really did want to know how he was doing; ever since you came home, you only talked to Sam when Dean would call him and have him on speakerphone. Even then, Sam was instructed not to speak about cases he was working on. Dean had a theory that possibly COVID was stress-induced, but you know it wasn't.

"I am good, making my way back to the bunker. I have a case in Wisconsin, so I'm in your area. I was thinking of seeing you guys once it's done."

"Oh yes, please do, Sam. It's been ages since we've hung out together. I feel like a movie marathon is needed."

"Yeah, if you're up for it. Dean tells me you get tired easily. Is anything else not the same?"

"Umm…brain fog for sure; I lost all memory of the week before I went into the hospital. Some things don't taste the same. But honestly, Sam, can we not talk about me for a bit. Tell me about the case in Wisconsin; what are you hunting this time." You inquire, done talking about yourself, need a distraction, and avoid asking Sam what you want to know.

Sam, being the best friend, a girl could ask for, knew that a distraction from your symptoms was what you needed, and although it would be breaking his promise to Dean, he could hear it in your voice, the need for some kind of normalcy, at least what normal is considered for us. Giving you all the details, you can come to the same conclusion that it was a vengeful spirit and a simple salt and burn job is in order.

Once Sam is done talking about Wisconsin, a lull in the conversation forms, and you look at the clock to see Dean should be home soon. "Sam, can I ask you something?" You feel slightly nervous and try to figure out how to phrase your question.

"Of course, you can ask me anything."

Taking a breath, you wait a second before asking, "How was Dean when he found out I was sick? He said he 'took himself off the board' and has been hovering since I got home. He's gotten better, but those first few days, it was like he was a different person."

Sam can tell by the last statement that you're trying to bring some levity to an otherwise heavy question, a question that he is surprised you have to ask. taking a breath, he thinks about how to say, ‘You idiot, he loves you! and you love him!'

"I am glad to hear that he's lost up the reins a bit," giving a chuckle, "but honestly, Y/N, he was devastated. I know he's my big brother, and he tries his best to hide his emotions, but I could tell that night when he called to tell me what happened, he was scared. Scared that he was going to lose you, scared that he might have caused this to happen to you."

"How could he have caused COVID? I mean, I get he sometimes can have a big ego, but, come on, he can't cause an infection."

"No, but he thinks he has been asking too much of you, wearing you down. I can't say whether he's right or wrong. You and I know you occasionally burn the candle at both ends."

"Yeah, I am trying to get better at that. But Sam, he was treating me like I was 90 years old. He wouldn't let me do a thing around here. And did he tell you he cleaned my house—my whole house—before I got home? I mean everything."

"Oh man, I am sure you were not happy to hear about that."

"Your damn right. I wasn't."

"Look, it's not my place to say, but I will tell you this, remember that night when you and I got a little tipsy, and you might have let slip your feelings for a certain green eye hunter?"

Fuck, of course, he remembers that night; that was right after you had helped him and Dean take down a wraith, and Dean was out on a beer run. "Yeah, you asked me why I never seem to be dating anyone, and I said I can't be with the one guy I want, so why be with the wrong guy at all."

Sam waits for you to connect the dots, and although you're not sitting in front of him, Sam has a feeling you're making the connections: "Let's just say Dean has the same idea, and he has his eye on a hazel eye researcher that he thinks he can't have."

You're about to protest Sam's statement that Dean has no feelings for you other than sibling love, but before you can, you hear the front door open and Dean yelling, "Honey, I am home," sweetly.

"I've Got to go, Sam. Talk soon," you say, and hang up before he can reply.

*********

Sam's words kept rolling around in your mind all night, distracting you from Dean. During dinner, you were quiet, letting him lead the conversation and not making it known when he mentioned Sam might be stopping by in a day or two that you two had talked earlier. "Oh, okay, sounds good." you responded, still thinking, 'He has his eye on a hazel-eye researcher that he thinks he can't have.'

Dean went for girls that were the complete opposite of you, blonde, curves in all the right places without an ounce of fat to be seen, the girl that guys walk across fire for, not the girl that they run into fire to get away from. Not the girl who is socially awkward around strangers, who can put her foot in her mouth easier than anyone, and who has more of a backstory than is worth mentioning. No, Dean goes for simple, noncomplex girls, which makes sense, given his life is entirely of danger and complexity. Why go for a girl to add to it.

Dean can tell your mind is elsewhere, and he is slightly worried that you're lost in your head or that this might be another symptom. "Hey, space cadet, you with me? Because if you're not watching the movie, I will gladly turn it to something we haven't seen twice this week," he jokes, hoping to make fun of the situation.

His voice shakes you from your thoughts, and you look over at him; his eyes have just a hint of worry to them. The blanket across both of you, him in a simple white t-shirt and sleep bottoms, you in gray leggings, tank top, and open cardigan. Perfection, you and Dean cozy up on the couch, not a care in the world, him teasing you about your love of disaster movies, and you forcing him to watch the same one repeatedly, and he does; why? Because he loves you. He loves you like a sister, a friend, someone he cares for, just not someone he’s IN love with.

"yeah, sorry, I think I am just going to go to bed." You shake off that last statement: he's not IN love with you. God, you really know how to cut yourself deep, don't you? Getting up from the couch, you grab your water glass and head towards your room.

Dean gets up with you, "here, let me help you," he says, walking around the couch and placing a hand on your lower back.

This is the last straw, the final statement of his wanting to help you, again treating you like you're helpless. "Stop! Just stop!" you yell, feeling yourself boil with rage you knew you had been keeping at bay. You know his hovering is with the best intentions, but for you, it's blurring the lines between what you want from him and what you know he can give you. Your mind won't let it be accurate even after what Sam told you today.

Dean stops his hands from touching you, standing still like he is frozen in time. "Y/N, hey, I just want to help. You look tired, is all." His voice is soft and sweet.

He’s trying to placate you, like he would a child or grandparent, "Dean, I am fine; I can walk ten feet to my room on my own and not get lost or fall down, okay!" You lock eyes with him and see his face fall, and in that moment, you know that he's hurt; you've only ever yelled at him when you were injured and need him to find you. But that was screaming for him, not at him. You know that you should feel bad for your outburst, you do, but you know that this is not real, that this ideal version of him and you playing house can't last.

"What is wrong? Is this another symptom? Did something happen while I was out?" he asks, wanting to understand your sudden change since this morning. You start walking away from him, wanting to get into your room and away from him, knowing he will get the truth out of you. You don't want to hear his excuses or him placate you even more about why he and you will never be a thing.

You turn halfway down the hall to look back at him, standing there watching you. "No! It's not! I am a capable woman who can take care of herself. Stop treating me like I am dying, Dean! You saved me once; that should be enough for you." Turning back, you reach your door, hand on the handle to open it, when you hear Dean.

"What does that mean?" Dean questions, his footsteps pad against the hardwood floors, standing right behind you; you can feel his breath on your neck, "I know you are capable; you are the strongest woman I know." his voice low, sending shivers down your body, you feel his hand on your arm, turning you around to face him. He sees your tear-stain cheek, "Fuck, Y/N, talk to me; what is going on? Why would you say saving you once was enough?"

Your eyes, trying and failing to hold back the tears, are now on the brink of spilling out. He needs to just let you go. You lean back against the door, knowing he took that little movement as exhaustion, and you are. You are exhausted by talking about this repeatedly, tired that he just can't let you leave, won't give up, and will go back to seeing you only when he needs something. He needs to go back to his life and let you put him back into the box of things that you don't let yourself have. Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face, wiping the tears and pushing them back inside. Putting on your brave face, "You know, Sam will be here in two days. I think you should go back with him. Go back to the bunker, and 'put yourself back on the board.'"

Throwing his line back at him, telling him he needed to return to work and that you would be fine without him. Will you, though? In time, maybe? You turned the door handle and stepped into the room, never breaking your eye contact with him. He shut the door in his face and flipped the lock, not giving him a chance to speak, knowing that he would not force his way in.

To be continued

#supernatural #fanfic #fanfiction #dean winchester #writing prompt #fandom #supernatural fanfiction #dean fan fiction #dean x curvy!reader #dean x chubby reader #dean x reader angst #dean x y/n #dean winchester angst

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1016week · 11 months ago

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1016 Week 2023 - The Round-Up (Part 1)

Hi fellow Piarlies, and happy holidays!! ❤️ Whatever you're celebrating IRL, we'd like to invite one and all to come celebrate Piarles with us here on Tumblr! 💙 Today, on the 26th (AKA, the 10+16th) we are celebrating our beloved squid boys by posting the final round-up of all content created for 1016 Week 2023.

One of our favourite things about fanweeks and fandom events is how they can bring together a whole group of people to create something amazing together. And in this fanweek, we certainly did that - with Piarlies from all corners of the fandom working together, we created more than fifty new pieces of Piarles content! 😍👏❤️💙Once again, we would just like to say the BIGGEST thank-you to everyone who participated and made this possible - you guys made this event succeed beyond our wildest dreams, and we truly can't thank you all enough for it <333

Please enjoy the official masterpost of all the 1016 Week 2023! Don't forget to give our wonderful creators some love in the form of reblogs, replies, kudos, comments and bookmarks ❤️ (P.S. - this post coincides very nicely with the timing of 2023's Just Leave A Comment Fest, so if you're interested in taking part in that wonderful event, and you've been looking for somewhere to start... why not with some of our amazing fics here? 😉💙)

Below the cut is Part 1 of our official round-up: you can find Part 2 here ❤️💙

Day 1 - Monza

Monza + Montreal embroidery by @gaslybottoms [cross-stitch]

you're my guiding lightning strike by @wolfiemcwolferson [fic]

Pierre finds out the soulmate bracelet he's worn since he was 14 has been coded to the wrong person's DNA. He gets the right bracelet. (A Piarles soulmate AU)

all roads lead back to Monza ♥ by @brasiliangp [edit]

I Will Never Ask You For Anything (Except a Dream) by @espithewarlock [fic]

Monza is the one race a year where they are allowed to have each other. They do not talk about it the next day.

we've got our whole lives (no ending this in sight) by @duquesademiel and @chaesonghwas [fic]

On the night of their ninth anniversary, Charles and Pierre travel to Monza together.

sanctuary by @fenesacha [fic]

From the comfort of their shared bed, Pierre watches Charles lean over the railing of the balcony and reach out to the screaming fans below.

monza-themed web weaving by @crimsonicarus [web weaving]

holy ground by @your-littlesecret [fic]

Charles can’t really pinpoint where Monza became their place. It might have started with one or another fan post and they just took it to their hearts. Or: Even with all the changes through the years, Monza will always be their place.

Day 2 - Social Media

we were meant to be as one by @wolfiemcwolferson [fic]

Pierre & the librarian with a secret Tumblr account.

crushing down like waves on the sand by @your-littlesecret [fic]

There’s nothing that could explain the change in feelings, but if Charles thinks about it… if he really thinks about it, there’s nothing really new there.

seven rings by @duquesademiel [fic/edit]

With You Around Me It’s Just So Easy To Be In Love by @espithewarlock [fic]

Their relationship was no secret. They posted about it everywhere on social media. Nobody believed it.

Scuderia Ferrari social media admin AU by @effervescentdragon [fic]

"Mr. Gasly. You have an impressive portfolio, and your CV is one of the best I've seen. What I want to know is, what will you bring to this job? What is the thing that distinguishes you from all the other candidates for this job?"

Piarles + social media AUs by @brasiliangp [edit]

plug me in by @fenesacha [fic]

After a long race, Pierre logs into Twitch and clicks on Charles' stream.

you and me would be (a big conversation) by @chaesonghwas [fic/edit]

When the media pairs up Pierre with Esteban of all people, Charles steps in to help. It doesn't quite go as planned.

social media-themed web weaving by @crimsonicarus [web weaving]

Day 3 - Blasphemy

maybe i don't want heaven by @chaesonghwas, @duquesademiel and @wolfiemcwolferson [fic + playlist]

Pierre kneels thrice: once in front of God and twice in front of Charles.

pulvis et umbra sumus by @your-littlesecret [fic + moodboard]

Great disrespect shown to something Holy. The action or offence of speaking sacrilegiously about sacred things; profane talk. And what could be a greater disrespect than Pierre and his demonic blood, loving Charles, an angel in essence?

Take Me by the Hand Before I Come Undone by @espithewarlock [fic]

Pierre believed in what he could see, hear, feel, experience with his own senses. He worshiped exclusively at the altar of Charles Leclerc.

piarles + take me to church by @singsweetmelodies [edit]

a well loved bicycle by @fenesacha [fic]

Pierre turns around one last time before he begins to pedal away. There is a boy standing at the fence, slightly shorter than him and Esteban. His fringe, light-brown and soft, is being blown into his eyes, but he doesn’t flinch, even as the freezing rain starts to fall. Pierre never saw or heard him approach.

blasphemy-themed web weaving by @crimsonicarus [web weaving]

blasphemy embroidery by @gaslybottoms [embroidery]

Day 4 - Free Day

crochet calamars by @gaslybottoms [crochet]

I hunger for you only by @wolfiemcwolferson [fic]

Charles has a request.

i wanna be a good boy, i wanna be your sex toy by @your-littlesecret [fic]

“I think we should make a bet.” Pierre hums, looking into his eyes. “Not a bet. A reward. Whoever has the first win this year-” Charles smiles deviously, like he’s just thought of the perfect reward. “Whoever wins first gets a ‘free use’ day of the other.” Pierre frowns, “A- free use day?” “Yes. A day where you can do whatever you want with me. Or me with you. Whatever.”

Coloring Outside the Lines by @espithewarlock [fic]

One male profile did catch his eye, a deceptively simple CharlesL16 username hiding exactly what he was looking for. Half the photos were perfectly innocent. Curled up on the couch in a comfortable sweater, sweaty and flexing at the gym, angled shots of him playing the piano, and more that made him look domestic and cozy. There was always a twist, though, and Pierre was instantly hooked. He found himself creating an account and subscribing almost unconsciously.

(i watched it) begin again by @chaesonghwas [fic]

When Juliette is 6 years old, they decide on taking her to Monza. She loves it.

ringing, it's too early by @duquesademiel [fic]

Pierre can't sleep. Charles can't wake up. They might fight about it, but in the end, they love each other more.

how d'ya like them apples by @fenesacha [fic]

Wearing one of these hands on each of your hands at all times, communicate to your teammate the names of these films. You may not raise your voice. You have five minutes. Your time starts when Jenson blows his whistle.

piarles + longing by @crimsonicarus [web weaving]

Our Love Is Not Illusion Based by @espithewarlock [fic]

Having magic wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Most of the adults would happily admit that having a Witch in the village was a good thing. Charles thought that Pierre's magic was a great thing.

❤️💙

#1016 week 2023 #1016week #event masterpost #1016 week 2023 final round-up #❤️💙

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palimpsessed · 1 year ago

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I have finally finished the draft for chapters 2 and 3 of Strictly Professional. (Also, have you seen the ART?!?!) Every day for at least the past week I’ve been like “okay, you’ll finish it today” hahaha. Remember when I said it was going to be a 4K one shot? hahahaha! And then chapter 1 was 18k? hahahahahahahahah I’m totally fine. I swear I know how words work.

Anywho. Being a very slow reader, I gave myself the evening off and hope to get through editing tomorrow.

In the meantime, I had some banger lines that I simply couldn’t use. So I’ve decided a dead darlings could be fun? And I will also give you an excerpt that’s staying in. (Spice ahead—be ye warned!)

For “plot” context, Simon and Baz are at a conference where they are sharing a bed. Baz is Simon’s supervisor. They are both very horny and very stupid. ☺️

Six Dead Darlings Sunday:

“As your immediate supervisor, I must inform you that, where seduction is concerned, you fail to meet expectations and I will be making note of that demerit in your performance evaluation.”

It’s an odd sensation—as though he’s giving me his laughter to hold. (I want to. I want to keep it with me.)

I don’t think I’m ever getting my hand back. Which is just as well. It’s far better off in Salisbury’s custody than it is in my own. It will have a much happier life being able to touch him.

“I don’t see any point in not being honest. What do I have to hide, anyway? Your cock is touching my cock. That’s pretty honest, isn’t it?”

“That would be devastating to my ego considering how much effort I’ve put into being unreadable.”

“I’d be a lot more comfortable if I’d gotten you naked first.”

Many Sentences Staying In Sunday:

I squeeze his arse as he plumbs the depths of my mouth with his tongue. I meet it with my own, opening wider, surging up—anything to be closer to him.

He pushes his arse back into my hands.

I can feel his muscles flex and shift under my fingers and i knead deeper.

He lets out a broken moan, tearing his mouth away, severing our kiss.

“Too much,” he gasps. The words fall hot on my face—a puff of humid air shared between us. “Need you now.”

Yes, I’m doing that thing where I check in on tumblr to see what I’ve missed, post a snippet, tag everyone, and run away again. Once this fic is done, I look forward to getting caught up on reading and reblogging all of your posts this week. ❤️

@blackberrysummerblog @larkral @artsyunderstudy @confused-bi-queer @nightimedreamersworld @fatalfangirl @j-nipper-95 @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @aristocratic-otter @ivelovedhimthroughworse @alexalexinii @carryon-agatha @ionlydrinkhotwater @shrekgogurt @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @shemakesmeforget @seafoampuddings @ileadacharmedlife @moodandmist @hushed-chorus @thewholelemon @raenestee

#six sentence sunday #dead darlings #strictly professional

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royallyprincesslilly · 2 years ago

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Title: If This Is Love, You Need To Mean It {3}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Heavy Angst, Plot Heavy, LOTS OF WORDS, Heartbreak, Cursing,

Words: 6.3k

Summary: The fallout of Lewis’ actions is real, as is the freeze-out. You’re fuming but brokenhearted. Not only do you feel like a fool, but you also feel used. Was any of it real? Making sense of this mess is the first thing you have to do.

Note: Part 3 is here! The plot thickens, as does the tension and angst. LOL. Part 4 is coming because it was too long.

Note II: Italicized text is a flashback/memory or someone’s words all from some time in the past.

As always, thank you all so much for reading. I truly appreciate it!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

Previous: If This Is Love, I Don’t Want It {1} | If This Is Love, You Need To Prove It {2} |

~~~~~~~~

-Lewis-

“Y/N.”

You didn’t respond. Hell for the last fifteen minutes, you’d been unresponsive and the longer you remained this way the more he panicked.

“Y/N?”

He gently shook you not wanting to be too rough. He was already in such deep shit that he didn’t want to make things worse. He always felt like he was one step away from just catastrophic failure. He had failed, he thought.

“Y/N.”

“Should we call 911?”

“No. The paps will be here in seconds. I don’t think she’d want even more stories about her out there,” Daniel replied ending Miles’ panic.

“Fam, just—let me—shit.”

He gripped his head and tried to think. Daniel was right. After the last week and change the stories running wild about your hospitalization had only increased and the longer you went without making a statement it only made them more brazen to make things up. He cringed feeling renewed guilt over the situation. It was his fault. It was all his fault. To think he’d only wanted to defuse a situation and keep you safe this entire time, but he hadn’t kept you safe.

“Lew,” Anthony began placing his hand on his shoulder.

“What do we do?”

He began to dig in his pocket ready to call your father. He’d have a lot to explain as to why you were there let alone passed out, but he didn’t see any other way. In the back of his mind he himself thought about the reason why you were there.

“Why was she here? How?”

“She was hiding behind the bar when you told us to hide,” Miles said.

“Hiding?”

“Yeah, with bags. Maybe she came to clear her stuff out.”

His chest tightened at the thought of that. Had you been there to get your stuff making this breakup final? He didn’t like that one bit. He didn’t want this break up; he never did. Renewed hatred for Aleeza sparked within him but part of him felt like he too held blame.

“She’s not waking up. What if she needs a hospital?”

Andrew sounded panicked now. Normally he and Daniel were the calmer ones. Their panic made him panic more. Maybe you were still suffering from whatever had landed you in the hospital. He pulled his phone then to dial your father, but a soft moan filled the room. All four of them hovered closer watching you closely. Again you moaned, then groaned as you shifted on the leather couch.

“Oh thank god,” Miles said dropping into one of the other couches.

“Angel Eyes?”

Your eyes opened and slowly focused. He couldn’t read you at all but after several moments your brows knitted together and you sprang up.

“Oh my god,” you groaned gripping your head.

“Are you all right, Y/N?”

“Should we call 911?”

Daniel and Andrew’s questions blended together.

“No,” you croaked out as your hands framed your face.

“Are you sure? You passed out just now. You were out for almost 30 minutes,” Miles inquired.

“And you were just in the hospital,” he said.

You looked at him then and if looks could kill, he would have been ten times over. Flinching, he looked away from you.

“I’m fine,” you snapped, swinging your legs over to rest on the floor.

“Can you guys give me some space—please?”

Getting the hint, they backed up. Daniel and Andrew joined Miles on the couch while he took a few steps back never taking his eyes off of you. He watched as you rubbed your temples with circular motions. It was an action you did often usually when you were trying to stave off a headache or trying to relieve stress or when you were trying to make sense of something.

“What the fuck is going on?”

It was an expected question at an unexpected time. Glancing at his boys, they exchanged looks of various levels of panic and confusion. When no one spoke you looked at them expectantly. You didn’t look at him, he noted.

“Hello?”

“We don’t fucking know. She shows up here and he tells us to hide then we see you hiding already and then we hear the biggest villain masterplan I’ve ever heard,” Miles recounted.

“What are you doing here?”

It shouldn’t have been his question but he wanted to hear the words from your mouth. You glanced at him but dropped your eyes after a few short seconds. You bit your bottom lip and then shook your head.

“That’s not important. I’m asking the questions. Why was Aleeza here waltzing in here like it’s not her first time and what the fuck were you talking about because—what the fuck!?”

“Fellas,” he began, ready to ask them to leave. “Maybe y’all can give us--.”

“No. They’re staying. Now explain.”

Your eyes were cold, and it broke his heart. You’d never looked at him like this before until that day in Monaco. The day he’d set all this in motion. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck and then began pacing. If you’d been behind the bar from the beginning then you’d heard everything. There was no point in trying to keep the details from you now. still, he hesitated not wanting to put you in any more danger or hurt you more.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, angel eyes.”

“Don’t call me that! And you don’t want me to get hurt!? That’s fucking rich, you’ve already fucking hurt me!”

You bolted to your feet, and he felt the heat of the flames of your anger. As if something inside him snapped he darted up seconds after you shouted.

“Do you think you’re the only fucking person hurting right now, Y/N?!”

He knew he probably shouldn’t have said it because you had every right to be furious with him right now, but he couldn’t stop the words. He was hurt too. You had no idea what it took of him and from him to put on that fiasco and live with the fallout. You had no idea what he’d been through, you had no idea how he felt during all this. Was it fair for him to be this angry at you, no, but in truth, he wasn’t angry at you at all. He was angry with himself, angry with the entire situation.

You stepped closer to him and threw up your middle finger at him, “Oh fuck you, Lewis! Don’t you fucking dare throw that at me. This was you! This was your doing!”

“Ehm,” Daniel cautiously began stepping forward and wedging himself between the both of you.

“Let’s all calm down.”

You spun around sharply then paced back and forth. He was very familiar with your anger, but this was different. He hadn’t ever seen you this angry before.

Daniel sighed, “Man, I think you should just tell her everything.”

“I second that,” Andrew added.

“Me too, cause I’m lost as fuck,” Miles finished.

He sighed then gripped his head. The slight force of his squeeze helped alleviate some of the pounding in his head but not much. Now that it had come to this, he had no choice so he conceded. Dropping down to the couch, he rested his elbows on his knees and then took a deep breath.

“Aleeza’s been blackmailing me for weeks.”

“Why?”

He dropped his head backward then steepled his fingers under his chin. “She found out we were together and has been using that to--.”

“From the beginning Lewis,” you hissed.

If he were a weaker man he would have flinched from the pure rage and venom in your tone.

“About a month ago Aleeza came over here with an envelope filled with pictures of you and me.”

“What pictures?”

He walked across the floor then into his office and unlocked the safe to pull out the dark yellow envelope then walked back out to you. He placed it on the table and waited for you to take it. You stared at it like it was an untrustworthy foe that could strike at any moment. He could guess what you were thinking. Rather than talking more, he waited for you to take up the envelope. A full minute passed before you did. Once you’d dipped your hand inside and came away with the stack of pictures, he watched your face closely.

He knew the photos well. They were of you coming over, leaving days later, you guys making out in the car, jogging together, a few of you having sex that he still didn’t know how she’d gotten. It still made his skin crawl from the level of the breach to his privacy he’d been victim to. However it wasn’t only his privacy, it was yours too.

“Shit,” you whispered.

He knew it was the picture of you on your knees in front of him with his dick in your mouth.

“How did she get these?”

“I don’t know,” he replied somberly. He knew what you felt. Violated.

After a few moments of silence, you slipped the pictures back into the envelope and then looked at him.

“Then?”

Your eyes were cold once again, he couldn’t decipher anything inside them, and it hurt more than knowing he’d fucked up. You were so, so far from him. He couldn’t reach out to you, but you were right across the room, close enough to touch. Only he didn’t dare try to.

“She said she’d show them to your father, so he knew that I breached my contract in a way that warranted immediate dismissal. She knew the specific details of my contract, she knew shit she wasn’t supposed to, shit only Toto and your dad should know. She said she would blow up my entire life and move on to Wednesday like Tuesday was nothing. I asked her why and what she wanted, and she said she wanted me to end things with you.”

“And you agreed,” you spat at him as if the words tasted like chewing tobacco.

“What! No! I told her no that there was no chance in hell. I told her I’d take my chances with your father and my contract. I told her I wouldn’t. I even went as far as to call your father then and there, but she snatched my phone away. I must have pissed her off with that because she saw she couldn’t control me, and I was ready to drop napalm on my life and career for you.”

He chanced a glance at you hoping his words were making it through the hard shell of your anger, but you gave nothing away. You still looked at him like he was a stranger you didn’t trust. Again he sighed, then shook his head.

“So her threat turned lethal. She said she would see to it that you had another accident that was worse than the one outside the gala that night. It didn’t make any sense to me how she worded it, but I didn’t put it together then. I didn’t think it was possible, that someone would be able to do something like that, especially to her husband's daughter. I just—I didn’t think. I did see that she was serious though and I didn’t want to risk you.”

“Why didn’t you tell my dad?”

“With what proof, angel eyes?”

“Stop!”

Clenching his jaw, he took a few calming breaths, “I had no proof. It was my word against hers. What reason would your father have to believe me? I couldn’t take the chance of that setting her off and her actually doing something.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to protect you. I wanted to keep this as far from you as possible. I thought fine I’ll just end things in a way that I knew we’d find our way back to each other, a way that I knew wouldn’t mean anything because of what we felt for each other.”

Your eyes softened then but within seconds they hardened again. Had he really lost you?

“I thought I could handle it,” he said, his voice low.

You scoffed. “And handle it you did. Con-fucking-gratulations!”

“Y/N,” Miles cautiously said as if he was trying to cut through the aggression you were charging the air with.

You sat, crossed your legs and arms then glared at him.

“And then?”

He hated this part. “She said she wanted it done in a way that—that--.”

“Spit it the fuck out you’ve already done the deed, own it.”

“That’s not really fair,” Andrew piped up.

Your glare slid to him. “You can get the fuck out if you want Andrew.”

He lowered his eyes but didn’t speak again. You then brought your razor blade glare back to him.

“She wanted it done in a way that what?”

“That broke your heart, a way that you wouldn’t recover from.”

“Wow. I guess all those actors in Hollywood don’t have shit on you. Lewis Hamilton for best actor, best screenplay, and best heartbreaker,” you said in a condescending voice as you clapped loudly.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whose idea was it?”

Shifting his eyes to the ceiling, he tried to buy himself some time, however, your disgusted laugh filled the room. It went from disgusted to hysterical, almost like the Joker’s unhinged one. When he looked at you he could see your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Tell me? Who came up with the plan?”

This was harder than actually following through with the plan. Sitting across from you seeing the pain in your eyes, hearing the betrayal in your voice he wanted to do anything to take it away.

“Y/N,” he began on a whisper.

“Tell me!”

“Mine. I knew there was no way you’d believe anything less, no way you’d accept it, no way it would feel real unless it was this.”

“And how did you know that?”

Your eyes remained on his and you waited.

“Because of how you felt for me.”

It was then your tears fell and those droplets felt like ice shards embedding themselves in his chest. Daniel held out a box of tissues for you, but you ignored them and opted for the backs of your hands.

“Eh-em, so you planned that day in Monaco, planned it to perfection and had her there watching?”

“It was her idea. She wanted to see it to be sure it happened.”

You nodded.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It was hands down the second hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I could barely get through it, could barely breathe saying the words to you. I—I didn’t fuck them though. I couldn’t do that to you—I wouldn’t.”

You looked dazed now and everything in him screamed to go to you. He stood and took a step to you.

“Don’t you fucking dare come near me!”

Just like that, he stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t your words, but the hatred in your eyes.

“And tonight she came to collect the rest.”

You snorted then wiped your cheeks again. “All of this for your overly used dick. All of this to be one of the many in a long, long line.”

“Okay look that’s not fair,” Andrew said standing.

“It’s all right,” he said trying to stave Andrew off.

“No, it’s not. Look, Y/N, I get this is a lot and fucked up on so many levels and you’re hurt—a lot--.”

“Hurt.”

You giggled. “Hurt?” More giggles came until they turned unhinged again. “Hurt? Stubbing your bare toe is hurt. Hearing someone you trusted telling the secrets you trusted them with hurts. Hearing the person you’d been spending the last 18 months with didn’t feel inclined to share something important with you hurts. Hearing that the man you’ve spent the last 18 months with may not be who you thought hurts. This? What he did, doesn’t hurt. It destroys. I am fucking destroyed. I’m gutted! You gutted me, Lewis!”

“He didn’t have a--,” Andrew began but he cut him off.

“No, she’s right Andrew. I fucked up. I’m to blame, no matter why I did what I did or my intentions, I fucked up. My actions—I’m sorry angel eyes.”

~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

You sprang up again and began pacing. It was then you flipped your switch. It was one of the many skills you’d developed being the daughter of Jordan Y-L-N. One of the skills you’d been trained in to prep you for living life in the public eye and being a constant target for any and everything. It was a skill you’d perfected when your mother passed. Each and every time you did it, you found it easier to separate yourself from your current reality to focus and dull every useless emotion.

All the pain, hurt, sadness, anger, and feelings regarding what Lewis had done were blocked off as you sequestered yourself far away from them. You knew you couldn’t handle them now, there was no scenario you made it through this without sealing yourself off. There was a bigger problem. Aleeza.

“She knew my mother and had a rivalry with her. A rivalry she lost. She made a plan to ruin my life using you to do it, the only person who probably had to power to do it. She watched me crumble, laughed at me in the hospital, then tried to convince my father I was at fault the whole time it was her doing. She was behind the accident at the gala. She wanted to kill me so she could be the sole inheritor of daddy’s estate when he died. Now she wants to fuck Lewis as a married woman and she’s sure he’ll give in because he’d lose his career if he didn’t, making him have lost me and his career—everything.”

Wow, you thought to yourself. This truly was insane. She was insane. You turned to the four faces on the other side of the room but blocked Lewis out completely.

“She tried to kill me.”

“That’s fucked up,” Miles said standing again.

“She almost succeeded,” you muttered.

“Well, we all heard her. She won’t get away with it,” Daniel said.

“Damn right she won’t,” Andrew said holding up his phone.

He pressed a few buttons and then placed his phone on the table. After a few seconds, Aleeza’s voice came on. Your eyes widened.

“Andrew, you--.”

“Recorded everything from when Lewis said hide. It was weird she was here. Something felt off.”

He took his phone up and stopped the recording. “I can text it to you.”

A wicked plan unfurled in your head, a plan that she deserved. She thought your mother was her rival. Your mother had never mentioned her, never dwelled on her a day in her happy life with you and your father. She was a speck of nothing in our lives. If only you’d been such a speck for hers.

“She wanted to destroy me. This bitch is going to finally understand the definition of destroy,” you said.

“What’s the plan?”

You looked over Miles, Andrew, and Daniel. They looked ready and eager to be a part of this like they planned on being involved no matter what.

“Look, y’all don’t have to be part of this any longer,” you began.

“Fuck that,” Daniel said.

“She came after the fam, and she tried to kill you,” Miles declared.

“She’s the one at fault for all of this. The way she hurt you—you didn’t deserve that. We’re in,” Andrew finished.

You clenched your jaw trying to fight off the barrier that was trying to drop so you were overwhelmed with everything again. You couldn’t afford that right now. If it did you’d be crippled with the pain, you’d be down for the count and right now you had a bitch to pay back.

“Andrew text me and email me that recording.”

“Got it.”

“What do you need from us?”

“I need the footage from the gala and the accident, I need to get the plates and anything I can so I can trace it. I can’t use my family’s investigator because there’s a chance it could get back to her.”

“I’m on that,” Miles said. “I know a cop who knows a detective.”

“Thank you, Miles.”

He nodded and took a few steps away pulling out his phone.

“I can use my company to dig into her some more,” Daniel offered.

His tech, cyber security, protection, and information agency would be good to handle that.

“Thank you Daniel.”

He reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. Again the barrier threatened to drop. You yanked your hand away and gave him a tight smile. Nodding, he quietly told you he understood. He stepped away and you watched as these three guys who didn’t owe you anything went above and beyond to help you. Three guys who owed all their loyalties to someone else were showing they were also loyal to you.

Emotion bubbled within you making you turn your back.

“Y/N,” Lewis began softly.

You froze, back tensing and heart pounding. You were not strong enough to do this right now. The only thing fueling you right now was the need for vengeance.

“What can I do? I want to—I need to help.”

You fought the sneer, but you couldn’t fight the words. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough? Just bask in the glory of my virginity.”

He sucked in a sharp breath and without needing to look at him you knew you wounded him. The part of you behind that barrier cared, the you with that switch flipped couldn’t. You stepped away and grabbed the bags you’d packed earlier then walked out the door without giving him a backward glance.

On the drive home, you took the long way passing it a few times driving clear to the countryside. Movement helped you think, movement helped you suppress the thing inside of you that was simmering. Every moment of inactivity made it reach a bubbling boil and you did not want to find out what would happen when it bubbled over. You knew yourself well enough that you knew it would be catastrophic.

So that was how you’d driven your tank empty three times and didn’t arrive back home until one in the morning. You couldn’t even stop to eat though you felt the hunger pains. Instead, you used the pains to fuel a workout. What was supposed to be maybe a thirty- or forty-minute run on the treadmill turned into a marathon sport event. Forty minutes at the punching bag, Thirty on the cycle machine, thirty on the rowing machine, twenty pumping weights, then an hour and a half on the treadmill.

By the time you made it to the shower, you were dead on your feet. Matter of fact so dead you dropped into your bed still wet and instantly fell asleep. The thing with the switch was, when you were awake it was easy to maintain, however, when asleep it was a bitch and a half. The nightmares were the worst because they never ended. They turned into terrors where you jumped up time after time after time only to realize that you’d done so in a dream and were still asleep and unable to actually wake yourself. Sleep paralysis. It was something you hadn’t experienced in years, and it was something you wouldn’t wish on anyone, except Aleeza.

So as you were paralyzed in this dream and unable to wake, you remained trapped in the nightmare of the day you’d walked in on Lewis. It played over and over and over. You would think the more times it played the more desensitized you were to it but no, it only intensified the pain you felt. No matter how you tried to run away from the scene or hide, it never worked. You were forced to live it again and again.

“Come out of it, angel eyes. Come on.”

You gasped loudly then sprang up panting for oxygen against the awful cotton mouth you were experiencing.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Lewis said.

You looked around the room, realizing you were awake. The sky was black, and the city lights twinkled around your condo.

“Y/N.”

You snapped your head to him, and everything flooded you again. Before you could stop yourself you wailed out as your body shook uncontrollably.

“I know you don’t want me to touch you, but I have to.”

Lewis wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tightly to his body. He’d seen you like this before. You’d gone through this after the accident and during those long weeks he didn’t let you out of his sight, you slept beside him, so he was near when you had an episode. He even got trained in how to take care of you during one.

The soothing circles he rubbed into your back barely registered, but the effect was nearly instantaneous. So very slowly the shaking lessened, and your breathing evened but the tears continued.

“Tighter,” you whimpered hating that you needed his help.

How twisted was it that the person you triggered this sleep paralysis was the person you needed to help soothe them? Lewis’ arms tightened around you feeling more like being Shibari bound than hugged.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you angel eyes.”

You wept louder though you were biting your tongue trying to hold it back.

“I’m sorry, I swear I am. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you in any way. It breaks me, straight kills me to know this is my fault.”

With every word, his hold on you remained tight. With every word, his warmth seeped into your pores and rushed off the cold chill that had taken over your body. Slowly your body relaxed, releasing you for the after-terror. Your body wanted to stay wrapped in his arms so badly. It wanted to forget everything that had transpired but your brain didn’t know how, your heart refused to.

“Get off of me,” you said on a shaky breath.

Lewis sighed before he complied. When he had you realized then you were naked. Snatching the comforter away, you wrapped yourself in it and dashed to the other side of your bedroom.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Daniel, Miles, and Andrew have tried to get in contact with you for almost two days, but you haven’t been answering.”

You spun around to face him. “Two days? I’ve been here for--.”

You turned back around and tried not to panic. You’d been in a sleep paralysis episode for nearly two days. Fuck you said to yourself.

“When did your sleep paralysis come back?”

“None of your business.”

“Y/N. Come on I just want to help. Please let me.”

Spinning around to glance at him you lashed out, “I don’t want your help Lewis! I can barely fucking look at you!”

To prove your point, you turned away from him again, your mouth turned up in disgust. A few tense moments passed in silence where you fought the dizziness overtaking you until you lost your balance and went tumbling to the floor. Before you hit the hard marble surface, Lewis’ arms cocooned you in safety lowering you gently to the floor.

Three of his heads danced around the air making it confusing for you to figure out which was the real him and which were the illusions. Lewis sighed then spoke again.

“You may not want it, but you need it. When was the last time you took your medication?”

You tried to figure that out for yourself but after several long seconds with no answer Lewis sighed again, this one disappointed. “How about eaten? When did you last eat?”

You knew this answer, “Two days ago.”

The three heads drifted into one and you saw the look of horror on Lewis’ face. “Please tell me you haven’t been in sleep paralysis for two days.”

You didn’t bother lying, you felt too weak.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

With that, Lewis hoisted you into his arms and stood bringing you back to your bed. He tucked a few pillows behind your head.

“I don’t need you Lewis. Just go.”

“I’m not leaving you like this. I’ll get your meds and make you some food then after you eat and take your meds only then will I leave.”

You kissed your teeth annoyed with this chivalrous show he was putting on. At this point, you didn’t know what was the real him and what was a fabricated illusion made up by you or forced onto you him. Without waiting for you to object, Lewis walked over to the mini fridge you kept in the bedroom and took out a bottle of water.

“Here, hydrate. Two days of no water, your body needs it.”

You glared at him but snatched the bottle from him and took a few gulps. He remained there clearly unsatisfied with the small gulps you’d taken. You took a few more and only stopped when you drank half the bottle.

“Wait here,” Lewis instructed before he walked out of your bedroom.

You were so annoyed right now it was crazy. He had no right to be here, no right to want to take care of you, no right to even try to pretend like nothing had happened and he hadn’t completely gutted you in two flawless moves. That barrier you’d forced up was slowly cracking and you were more than terrified of when it crumbled altogether. Taking some calming breaths, you tried to focus on what needed to be done and the fact that you needed to be in the right state of mind to pull it off.

Before you realized it, Lewis walked back into your bedroom with a trey. The scent of tomato soup filled the room and your stomach rumbled.

“Garlic and basil tomato soup with a grilled cheese, a cup of chamomile tea, a little cantaloupe, honeydew, and strawberry salad. I was going to add a salad but maybe keeping it lite is best.”

He placed the trey at the foot of the bed and then bent to grab the portable table you kept under your bed. After unfolding it he put it over your lap then the tray on the table. It boiled your blood knowing that he still knew where everything was and was moving around like he owned the place like he was still welcomed.

When he came back and put your medicine beside the bowl of tomato soup you snapped again.

“You can go now. Don’t you have a deadline looming in a matter of hours? You should go prepare for your pussy appointment.”

Lewis sucked in a sharp breath, but he didn’t move. “You really think I’d sleep with her? You really think that’s who I am?”

You snorted, “I don’t know who you are,” you spat.

“Bullshit. You know exactly who I am. You’ve seen who I am over the last 18 months. You know everything about me. You know you are the most important person to me next to my family. You know you mean everything to me.”

Lewis reached for your hand, but you yanked it back before he could touch you. A defeated look crossed his face and a small part of you felt guilty for it. A very small part, but no matter how small, that part was wreaking havoc and prompting the fall of your barrier at a breakneck speed.

He pulled over a chair and then sat. “What can I do? Tell me what I need to do to make this right.”

“Nothing. There is nothing you can do. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know if I can ever believe anything out of your mouth again. I don’t know if I can ever trust you or rely on you. I just--.”

Shaking your head you took a deep breath and began eating.

“Please, angel eyes.”

You sighed. closed your eyes and squeezed the spoon. “Please stop calling me that.”

“No. You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do? You think I don’t know that you’re trying to push me away and compartmentalize the shit out of this situation so you can numb yourself toward me? I’m not stupid, Y/N.”

“You should have told me!”

You loud shout went everywhere. Lewis didn’t speak for a while but when he did his voice was low.

“I see that now. I swear Y/N, I was trying to protect you. I was trying to--.”

“Do what you always do, try to control everything and handle it all by yourself.”

He sighed then dropped his head. “I’m sorry.”

“What does sorry do now? The damage is done. Like I have never allowed any man in and here I let you in and you shattered me, ruined me, broke me. You did to me what I didn’t think any man had to power to do because I never allowed it, but I see now though it’s too late. I’d given you something no one had ever gotten.”

He looked guilty now. “Your virginity. I didn’t know before; I didn’t know fully until you said the words. I suspected but—.”

“You took more than that Lewis. You took all of me—everything.”

“Please, Y/N, let’s start over, let’s try again.”

“I don’t have anything else to give.”

“Then let me do the giving. Let me give everything to you. Let me love you because I do. I love you.”

You stared at him with your head cocked to the side. They were words you wanted to hear a month or two ago. They were words you were so sure he wanted to say one of the last times you’d had sex. They were words you swore he’d said in so many different ways but now he was saying the actual words.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything, I love you so fucking much I can’t breathe, so much I can’t do anything without thinking of you, thinking of keeping you safe, happy, and carefree. I love you so much that I can’t do anything without you in my life. I love you. Y/N. I love you.”

He clasped your hand between his large ones, and you sat there searching his eyes. Could you believe these words? Were they also lies to get you to forgive him? Could this be real? Uncertainty swarmed within you making it impossible to decipher what was real or fake.

“I don’t know what’s real and what’s fake,” you whispered.

He held your hand tighter. “This is real, I’m real, how I feel about you is real. The last 18 months were real, the depth of how sorry I am is real. Me being willing to end my career for you is real. Loving you more than my love of the sport—that’s real. Believe me.”

You pulled your hands free from his then averted your eyes to the food before you. After you focused for a few moments you went back to eating as if he’d said nothing. Your mother taught you that love was an action, not a word, and if the action was authentic the words wouldn’t be needed and if the love was genuine then it would be forever something you could bet on without hesitation. You didn’t know if you could bet on his “love.”

After about thirty minutes, you’d finished most of the food and taken the medication. You then looked at Lewis ready to tell him to leave. He held his hand up.

“You don’t have to say it. I’ll go.”

He stood, dug in his pocket, and held out a zip drive. “Daniel and Miles came through. They said if you need anything else call them.”

You took the zip drive and nodded. “Thank you.”

He nodded then somberly walked to the door. You watched him move. Before, he always had a pep in his step no matter what he was going through, now he looked just as broken as you felt. Fighting the urge to feel sympathy for him, you closed your eyes.

“Angel eyes.”

Your belly quivered at the sound of his nickname for you. It always quivered no matter if you were alone or in the middle of a crowd. You heard the name and your body reacted. He knew it very well and it was knowledge he capitalized on. It was a nickname he refused to give up on. You met his eyes cautiously.

“I could never and would never sleep with anyone but you. No matter what, from this day on there will be no one else. Just you. Even if you decide that you want nothing else to do with me, I will love you from afar, but it will still forever and always till my last breath, just be you.”

That was a bold ass declaration you thought. It came with a shit ton of implications and a shit ton of silent promises. The look on his face said he knew each and every single one of those implications and promises. Your body began to shake all over again only this wasn’t the aftereffects of the paralysis. This was the weight of his words seeping into your very being and attacking the barrier. You opened your mouth to speak but in a matter of seconds he was gone, and you were left with too much to think about.

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

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