#hello and welcome to the only thing I care about anymore

[fancyfeathers]

Happy thanksgiving, I hope it is going well🦃

Thank you for responding to my other ask about the flinching around the batfamily. But now another question has popped up in my head, what if Daughter reader just randomly picks one of the "siblings" to cling onto for dear life. But it backfires for the sibling because uh oh! Daughter Reader met their friend and suddenly boom she has a crush on them. Example Maybe: Tim? (I love Tim he's my favorite lol.) Daughter Reader sees his "subtleness" in obsession or whatever he likes to call it😒 Reader is chilling with Tim, then KON walks in and she never whipped her head around so fast. (Obviously Tim notices.) Now not only is Tim (or any other sibling of the batfamily you'd like to use) is dealing with a clingy reader, now they're dealing with said reader constantly asking them about their friend and occasionally stealing their phone to stare at pictures of said friend. (She's a little creepy she's been cooped up in a manor for like a decade by now give her a break she's trying her best.) OR! When the batsibling's friend comes back over reader gives them a drawing she made of them Thank you reading have a lovely Day/Night! - 🐈‍⬛Anon

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

Ooooo this is giving me ideas

I did make Daughter!Darling younger than Damian so Kon might be a bit too old for her (or young… he was created in a lab, but that’s a whole other can of worms)

But this gave me an ideas for two scenarios that stem from this idea…

Taking the crush aspect out of this cause of age differences with the idea with Kon, like Tim brings him around to the house for the first time while Daughter!Darling is home from school or one of the many outings that Dick takes her on of his choosing. Connor is definitely friendly to her, Tim has definitely mentioned his little sister to him, how amazing she is, how adorable, how perfect-

She looks terrified when Damian came around looking for her, mentioning something about notes in class…

Then the second time he comes around to visit, he catches a glimpse of Bruce locking her bedroom door with her inside… who does that?

Then when he came around to see Tim and he walked into the living room and he saw his friends taking photos of her just sitting and doing schoolwork and she clearly looks uncomfortable.

He finds some excuse to have Tim leave the room so he can ask her…

“Are you okay?”

“N-no…”

He felt horrible for her, but he did not have anymore time to ask questions before Tim returned. Kon is not capable of taking care of a child but he knows people who definitely can.

It’s when she is at school and out on the swings alone, Damian scared away her friends again today and…

“Hello, mind if I sit by you?”

There is a man with glasses and a visitor’s pass that comes to speak with her and she lets him, he introduces himself as Clark Kent and he lets her connect the dots. He lets her know that she can speak freely and he is here to help her and just everything spills out with tears. Clark would be horrified by what he hears, this little girl is in danger and no one had cared enough to help her and-

“Hang on tight.”

There is just a quick moment before he picks her up and they are in the air with him taking her somewhere he’ll know she’ll be safe for now anyway, with his family.

He’ll explain things to Lois and Jon, but he is sure they will understand… they have to…

The other way I could see this scenario going is…

With the idea of when she starts having a boyfriend who is a member of the Court of Owls (I mentioned him in these posts, link, link, link, link)

But Damian would have probably have made friends to help with his cover, and of course there is the most perfect boy in school, talented, smart, kind, head of the student council, on many sports teams. Then when Damian began attending that school after Talia left him with Bruce, he was the one who was we so adamant about making him feel welcome, but of course it was a fake friendship on both sides. The boy had no real interest in being Damian’s friend, but he also needs to keep up his appearance.

He could honestly care less about Damian until when they come into his first period class and introduce a new student, Damian’s little sister and when the teacher asks for volunteers to show her around the classroom, his hand shoots up. Damian is fine enough with his friend to help his sister, he won’t get close-

That is until the end of the day when he sees her walking down the steps of the school with that boy, laughing and chatting with each other. It is fine, he is a family with a good reputation-

Then when he is supposed to come over for a school project for Damian’s and his science class, he is talking to his sister after they are done working and are waiting for his driver.

Then there is the time when they just went on summer break and she comes into Damian’s room and asks for the address of the boy’s summer home because they promised to write to each other and she had his address on her phone but she got it taken away since she would only need it to call the family and she-

Damian wants to pull out his hair more and more every time she mentions this boy. This goes on for years and into high school and it all comes to a boiling point where Damian catches them making out in the stairwell.

Oh my god he wants to kill them, wants to rip out his heart, wants to bang his head into the concrete over and over again. He restrains himself and only threatens him with some bruising and harsh words.

But after that nothing is the same.

His sister distances herself from Damian, he cuts off his friend, but then true colors begin to show to Damian, only Damian.

Like when he opens his locker and finds it defaced, threats, insults, and strangely enough a feather, like a signature, but to whom does it belong to?

The boy puts on his perfect facade and acts like he actually cares about Damian and as it he had nothing to do with it, but his laughter when he is talking to his group of friends just seems too loud, the kisses he shares with his sister are almost smug, and the perfect smile and the praise he receives from his teachers and classmates leaves a sour taste in Damian’s mouth.

He wished he had asked his father to have his sister homeschool.

[tarotwithlucien]

𝓨ou in the eyes of your future spouse | pick a pile

Hello everybody! Welcome to my first PAP on this account – it's also the first time I've done one about "future spouse", so I hope you like it and that it resonates with you! ♡

┈─★ Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only and shouldn't be taken seriously or used as a substitute for medical and professional advice. It's also a general reading, so it may or may not resonate with you.

┈─★ How to choose: Close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the image that catches your attention the most – trust your intuition.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ masterist | tip jar ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

── .✦ PILE 1

Shufflemancy: Moonlight/Sunrise - Rope and Ladder, It's Not The Same Anymore - Red Orange County, To - The Neighbourhood, Love Songs For The Haters - FLEECE & Maintain The Madness - The Jane Austin Argument.

Without a doubt your future spouse loves you – otherwise they wouldn't even marry you lol – and they are a protective partner towards you, so in general, they see you as someone they should protect and care for. Therefore, they can act as your knight in armor when you need it, as they are always ready to protect and defend you from all those who try to hurt you.

They also view your relationship dynamics as if you are the sun and the moon – for some of you reading this pile, you are more the moon and your future spouse is the sun or vice versa. Your future spouses see you as a beautiful and attractive person – as if you were a mermaid who mesmerizes them with your enchanting beauty. And one of the physical features they love most about you in general are your eyes because, in the eyes of your future partner, they shine in a way that they have never seen before with anyone. Not only do your eyes shine, but in your future partner's vision, you light up their entire life. Before you met and were together, they saw life in a gray way due to the adversities they faced on a daily basis and, thanks to you, they felt life gain more color, they felt love and it was as if their eyes open themselves up to everything they had never experienced before in their lives.

You probably met early and one of the things they love most is being able to look at old photos you took – whether it was when you first met, when you started dating or just photos of you together in general – and admire how you used to be and they probably compare themselves to the old version of themselves in the photo and it's really funny because you could be looking at your photos together and they laughs, points to their face in the photo and says something like “wow, I was weird ” and it’s a really cute moment between you two. They feels nostalgic in these moments and really misses that time, because unfortunately it doesn't come back and all that remains are memories – and fortunately they are good.

In the eyes of your future partner, you are going through a difficult time in your life. It's not just your partner who is a nostalgic person, you are too and you probably remember the times when your life was easier and compare it to the difficult life you have now – like when you were children, for example. They also see that you are tired and stressed about the way things in your life are – for example, you may work long hours at jobs you don't like just so you can pay the bills at the end of the month, you have to put up with people you hate and it even seems like you let people step on you so that problems don't occur (you can be people-pleasers too) and your biggest victory of the day is going home and sleeping, all while repressing what you're feeling and putting on a fake smile. Your future spouse is your family and they can tell when you are feeling bad and they think that you are being too hard on yourselves and that you may not want to admit it, but you need to seek professional help. So, if this is your case, don't be afraid or ashamed to ask for help! This is destroying your mental health, pile one, please take care of yourselves!! Stop bottling up your feelings, process them, let them go, and then stand back. Do this for yourself.

Your future spouse knows you better than you know yourself – they know what to do or say to make you feel good and are careful about what not to do or say to avoid hurting you or making you feel worse. In their view, sometimes you can end up projecting your problems onto them, but they continue to love you regardless of your flaws – just be careful that this doesn't become a toxic trait that will affect your relationship. They may have met many girls/boys before meeting you, but none of these people compare to you! This whole time in their lives, they never needed anyone, they never felt the need to have someone by their side – on the contrary, they used to be the type of person who went out to a party/bar and flirted with people just to feel good/attractive. But, from the moment they met you, things changed completely and seemed to turn upside down. Just being away from you makes your future partner's heart sink. You make them feel good.

That was all, pile one! I hope you enjoyed it and that this reading resonated with you. Don't forget to take care of yourself and seek professional help if you need it, otherwise your future partner will hit you lol

── .✦ PILE 2

Shufflemancy: Room - Ethan Tasch, Ode To a Conversation Stuck In Your Throath - Del Water Gap, Epiphany - Stained, 976-Evil - Deftones & Tulsa Jesus Freak - Lana Del Rey.

In the view of your future spouses, you are a person who doesn't like to fight in your relationship and who tends to avoid conflicts so as not to cause major problems. You may even end up staying quiet instead of taking a stand on something that bothered you and your future partners also think that you can't express yourself very well through words. It's okay not to want to fight in a relationship, because who does? But, you must understand that some conflicts are necessary and need to happen, so don't run away from them, position yourself and choose your battles well – you don't need to fight over stupid things either lol.

In the eyes of your future partner, you are a disorganized person – the type who leaves their clothes scattered all over the floor or easily forgets where their left their things because everything around them is just a mess – and they think this is just a reflection of how you are feeling inside and how your mind is going. In fact, they may think that your inability to communicate effectively in the relationship is due to problems such as depression or anxiety. Regardless of what your case may be, your future partners notice this and care about you, they accept you exactly as you are and they will not leave you in this difficult time. You may be facing mental health problems, which leave you tired and without energy to do basic tasks like tidying your room and that's okay, just don't forget to take good care of yourself and, if necessary, seek professional help as it will be very beneficial for you!

For some of you reading this pile, before you finally became a couple, you and your future partner were best friends and all this time they tried to convince themselves that you were just that, but deep down they wanted to be tying you to the bed 🤭. They really wanted you and things are no different now. You also seem to be a popular couple who attract the attention of other people wherever you go, as if you were a celebrity couple or just people who are very loved by others.

In general, your future spouse is very jealous and possessive of you, so they want to be the only ones who can touch you in this way and just imagining people other than them touching your body the way they love to touch you so much chills down their spine lol. Just like in pile one, one of the physical features they love most are your eyes and they love just looking at them. One of the activities they love to do with you is traveling – in fact, any time they can spend time with you makes them happy. Your future spouse is so cute, because in the moments when they notice you are down, they do everything they can to make you laugh or just smile. In their view, in moments when you're feeling bad, you tend to walk away just to calm down - and for some reading this pile, this could apply to your future partner.

That was all, pile two! I really hope you enjoyed this reading and that it resonated with you. Just like in pile one, don't forget to take care of yourself and seek professional help if necessary 😠

── .✦ PILE 3

Shufflemancy: White Roses - Greyson Chance, Nervous Young Inhumans - Car Seat Headrest, I'll Follow You Into The Dark - Miya Folick, Uzumaki - Softcut & Dancing In The Moonlight - alt-J

Your future spouse is totally devoted and blind with love for you, pile three! In the eyes of your future partner, they can't live without you and they can't even imagine what their life would be like if they didn't have you by their side. It seems like from the first moment you met, just by looking at you, they felt attracted and didn't waste any time, they went to ask you out on a date lol. Just like the future spouses in pile two, your future partners are also jealous, the only difference is that they seem to be more jealous than the partners in the previous pile, because just seeing you going out, having fun with your friends without them around your side already makes them jealous.

The future spouses in this pile think that you still don't know all sides of them even though you are together. They may have red flags that you haven't noticed or ignore, so it's good to be careful. They may have addictions like alcohol or drugs, they may have bad habits, they may be overly possessive/jealous, controlling, aggressive or end up giving you the silent treatment or distancing you from them when you fight or there is a problem going on in your life as a couple – and maybe that's why you feel the need to walk on eggshells in your relationship to try to prevent your partner from acting that way towards you, which isn't cool. If for any reason you are uncomfortable, they disrespect your boundaries or you simply no longer want to be in the relationship, don't be afraid to walk away!

Because of what I mentioned above, your future spouses see you as someone who doesn't raise their voice in a fight, who doesn't point the finger in their face when they're wrong - they see you as someone who basically never showed their bad side to them. In their view, you understand them. Your future partners may also be individualistic and not have a black and white view of life – that is, they do not follow concepts such as “good” and “bad” and usually only do what is beneficial for them. Furthermore, they usually give back to others what they first received or what they think others deserve. But when it comes to you, it's different. It seems like they control themselves and use the power they have to give you what is good – they know they can affect your life, so they choose to affect it in a positive way. In my opinion they are weird, ngl lol.

Even though I think they're weird lmao, they would be willing to go through hell with you if necessary. They would be with you in times when no one else would be and they would be your refuge, ready to hug you and comfort you.

That was all, pile three! I really hope you enjoyed it and that the reading resonated with you. Be careful with emotional dependence, don't be afraid to set boundaries and, if necessary, let go of relationships that no longer serve you! Until the next PAP ♡

© tarotwithlucien - don't copy, redistribute or edit my content | DIVIDERS

[cloudcountry]

just realized i NEVER posted this to tumblr??? HELLO??? if it wasn't for ao3 this shit would have been lost media because i literally cannot find it in my google docs??? HELP???

ANYWAYS!! WELCOME TO WHAT THE TWST BOYS LEFT YOU WITH AFTER YOU BROKE UP

its bittersweet. you guys broke up on good terms. post-formatting auburn here and omfg what was i THINKING this shit HURTED. OW. CRITICAL HIT I NEED A HEALER. FUCK.

Riddle Rosehearts leaves you with an appreciation for learning, a strong sense of awe at the bookshelves lining the walls of NRC’s library. He leaves you with a pen, tucked at the bottom of your backpack that you forget about until a late night study session. You find it and giggle, remembering the time he gave it to you when yours ran out of ink, and you begin to take notes with the red-rose ink.

Trey Clover leaves you with a sense of nurture. You pick up cues from people that you never would have seen before and know exactly how to act, and it isn’t until you find yourself “babying” Ace that you step back and laugh. Of course Trey rubbed off on you, he always was taking care of you with nobody to help out him.

Cater Diamond leaves you with extensive knowledge of camera angles. When you’re taking pictures with your friends or just you, it's like you know exactly which filter would look best with every shot. Sometimes you’ll stumble upon a filter you only ever used on his pics, and you’re filled with a bittersweet happiness. Simple photo editing holds so many memories, and you can only hope he’s making new ones, too.

Deuce Spade leaves you with a motivation to protect yourself. When you started dating him all that time ago, he insisted on giving you some form of self defense lessons just so you could protect yourself. He made you more confident, even if he never knew it. You’ll always be thankful for the way he unknowingly made you stand up straighter, like you were proud to be yourself.

Ace Trappola leaves you with a lighter soul. He’s always been a goofy person, and you know full well that he’s never changed. He made you way more optimistic just by dealing with things the way he did, always being true to his heart no matter who he was speaking to. You always admired that about him, and it made you feel like you could be more like yourself even when he wasn’t there anymore.

Leona Kingscholar leaves you with a piece of his pride. He always told you to keep your head up especially when you’re scared half to death. You find yourself using his advice every time you face a situation you’d rather not be in, and slowly conquer everything that used to freak you out. You finally glow with the pride that you know he would have been so proud of if he was still with you, but you’re starting to think that maybe he’s proud of you anyway.

Ruggie Bucchi leaves you with a determination to constantly fight for better. You need to make the best of your circumstances, being transported to a world where you’re powerless with nothing but the shirt on your back. He’s taught you to be crafty and resourceful, and to never let yourself be taken advantage of. You can’t thank him enough...and really, you can’t anymore, but that’s okay.

Jack Howl leaves a carefully planned school year in his wake. You find yourself planning out your day, little events scribbled into your calendar and schedules created in the margins of your notebook. Jack had always reminded you of things and you wanted to let him know how much you valued his efforts to keep you on track, so you started writing down his schedules too. It isn’t until you flip back through your notebook to find older notes that you see “Track and Field Meet - 5pm” and feel a pang in your heart.

Azul Ashengrotto leaves you with a ton of home-economics knowledge. Long after you two have broken up, you still find yourself checking on your monthly expenses and tweaking your meal plans, and it isn’t until you’re laying in bed one night that you realize you wouldn’t be nearly as efficient as you are now if it wasn’t for your previous sweetheart.

Jade Leech leaves you with a fascination for the world around you. He took things that you didn’t think twice about and twisted them into beautiful sights, and you never quite looked at them the same way. It’s not a bad thing, it’s quite the opposite, actually. Your world has never been more beautiful, even if the boy that opened your eyes isn’t there to see it with you.

Floyd Leech leaves you with a restless need to do something. Sometimes, during your down time, you’ll set down your phone and start pacing around your room, wondering why your legs just can’t seem to sit still. Then something clicks—Floyd used to barge into your dorm and dance with you at random intervals, but he doesn’t do that as much anymore. Laughing to yourself, you slip on a coat and decide to take a walk—anything to get the fidgeting out of your system.

Kalim Al-Asim leaves you with a brighter smile and higher patience. You’d always had to chase after him on whatever misadventure he decided to go on that day, apologizing to Jamil with a wobbly smile on your face once the day was done. Kalim never failed to make things brighter, even your breakup. You two still hang out sometimes, but you aren’t as close as you used to be, even if the memories of your adventures remain.

Jamil Viper leaves you with some of his best recipes. It may seem silly or insignificant to anyone else, but you know exactly how much time he spent cooking and baking for Kalim and his entire dorm on a daily basis. He even found time to bring you and his club snacks occasionally. You still know how to make his favorite curry, and if a recipe calls for dates you scratch them out from the ingredients out of habit.

Vil Schoenheit leaves you feeling beautiful. He never once looked at you wrong, whether you had just woken up or had gotten into another mud fight with Grim or if you were wearing a swimsuit. There was nothing but love in his gaze and a reminder to keep your head up on his tongue, because in his eyes you were precious. Because to Vil, you were unapologetically beautiful (and you still are. You always will be.)

Rook Hunt leaves you with an eye for detail. After picking up on everything you did and telling you about every habit he examined, you became keenly aware of your habits and how to manage them. You’re far more observant when it comes to your own self care, and you know you wouldn’t be as diligent if it wasn’t for the insistence of your ex.

Epel Felmier leaves you with a love for nature. You’re hyper aware of how long it takes apple trees to grow and what you can do to help them along. You whisper to your plants now and sing little songs to them and you water them. Your friends have even started coming to you for pointers, and despite the fact that Epel isn’t your partner anymore, you refer them to him automatically.

Idia Shroud leaves you with an absurd amount of techy knowledge. With all the gadgets Ramshackle has because of him, you’re thankful he took the time to explain how they worked. The gifts he made for you almost make the fact that he had to end things with you because of his...family business and that you’ll likely never see him again easier to swallow.

Malleus Draconia leaves you with a greater love for the night sky. You had a person to share the sight of the stars with for once, someone who loved looking up at them just as much as you did. You can still feel the chill of his hand over yours as he reached for it, holding it like you were the most precious treasure of all. Now, when you look up at the stars, you feel a pain of longing in your chest. You miss him.

Lilia Vanrouge leaves you with knowledge of the worlds you’ll never see. You find yourself drawing parallels between this world, your world, and the mystical places Lilia used to talk about. Even Trein has been impressed by the knowledge you’ve displayed in his essays despite not being from this world, and you can only force a laugh.

Silver leaves you with a safety net, something you can use to calm down whenever. His childhood lullaby. He sang it for you time and time again when you were having trouble sleeping in an unfamiliar place when your anxiety got a bit too much. Whenever you have a nightmare now, you find yourself humming the old Briar Valley tune, in hopes that it will give you some comfort.

Sebek Zigvolt leaves you with a greater appreciation for reading (and a pile of bookmarks tucked in an old leather box he presented when he started “courting” you.) You still find yourself exiting Ramshackle on the weekends, and heading to that very same tree you two used to read under. There’s a part of you that wants to look for him, to check and see if he’s also heading to your tree, but you don’t.

[untoldstar]

male yandere! farmer x fem! spoiled city girl reader [Introduction]

lowkey hate this but I still love the concept.

This is based on an ask I got but since it’ll. e jumbled if I put everything in one post I’ll be posting it in parts so as much as it pains me to say this..no yandere shenanigans in this post<:33

You were spending the summer at a farm and you were absolutely dreading it.

You have been living, in your words, the high life but in your fathers words irresponsibly. Going out every night, partying, spending money on stupid things, and it seemed like you were only interested in going to college because of the parties your classmates host. Frankly, your father has had enough of it.

In the middle of his lecture, he had the bright idea to call up an old friend who owns a farm and ask him for a favor, and from the expression on his face you already knew it was something dreadful.

Turns out it was to have you work for him for the summer. To toughen you up a bit. Teach you some responsibility just so you could be a little more mature when you come back (and maybe not turn him penniless like you're about to with the way you're living).

His friend, which you learned his name was Blaze, didn't mind. In fact, he was happy to have an extra set of hands to help around.

Naturally, you threw a fit. You tried every trick in the book you even gave your best puppy eyes and promised not to spend too much money anymore, you would even stop going to so many parties!

Nonetheless..you ended up packing your bags when the day came.

You slammed the passenger door shut and made your way to the cars trunk to get your bags. You could hear both men exchange warm welcomes and rave over how long it's been.

You roll your eyes. A little more and they'll be going down memory lane over coffee.

Your father turns to you when you make it to his side, his face still pleasantly beaming. It was honestly freaking you out "Ah! honey, say hello to my friend, Blaze. He'll take good care of you here." You offer him a tight-lipped smile and shake his hand. You immediately remove yourself from the conversation as your eyes take in the scenery. A large field you can't even tell where it ends. Within it, a house is close to where you're all standing, not small, not too big while the barn is a little further away. You also see a dark blue truck parked close by. You don't see any of the animals yet. He must have animals right? You wince as you think of dealing with their waste.

And the heat. The heat. You have a small tube top and shorts on which would be lovely back in your city but here it does absolutely nothing to help with the intense heat.

Too distracted by your torment, you don't notice Blaze's eyes glancing in your direction every few seconds as he talks to your father taking in every detail of you. Smooth skin, soft hair, delicate hands that haven't worked a day in their life. He honestly doesn't think you'll last a day.

"Well! I'll be off then." You snap out of your daze "Oh. Okay then." You reply curtly. You're being petty and you don't care "Come now don't have that look on your face, lighten up will you? Don't give Blaze too much trouble" with that he makes his way to the car and you almost tear up watching him drive off.

Blaze clears his throat "Here let me help you with your stuff." He leads the way to his house and already you can tell how awkward this is going to be "I take it you're not familiar with working in a farm?" you only offer a small shake of your head "That shouldn't be a problem, you know I didn't wake up one day and decided to milk a cow. I had to learn and work every day...Not just that but everything else, of course." He clears his throat and you giggle. His shoulders relax a bit upon the sounds. You too enter his house and he sets your luggage down "Right, let me give you a tour, yeah?"

He leads you throughout the entire house, which doesn't take long considering its size, he leaves your room for last "This is where you'll be sleeping, this room doesn't have a lock yet but if you want I can install one for ya." you only nod and head inside and shut the door behind you.

What the fuck?

Blaze blinks then huffs knocking on the door "Hey uh- If you're tired from the trip we can start tomorrow at dawn" He looks down as he patiently waits for your response "Yeah that would be great!" He sighs. He doubts you had plans to start today anyway.

Blaze finally walks away from your door rubbing his neck 'Lets hope this runs by smoothly..'

Turns out, he had..a few things to worry about.

The first day was a pain, for both of you, but he'd argue it was more of a pain for him.

"You do it!"

"I'm supposed to be teaching you." he replies gruffly

"What if she bites my hand off?"

"She's a horse you're not feeding a lion- look just put the carrot closer to her mouth." he guides your hand closer and his heart skips a beat. So soft. Your hands were so soft-

He clears his throat "There, it'll just start eating it, it's fine if a little dribble gets on your hand." You grimace and he clicks his tongue "Oi, stop being a brat, a little drool is the least you should be worried about while working here." You whine "Can I just be in charge of feeding Stella here instead?" He crosses his arms "No can do sweetheart." You only pout and continue feeding the horse not noticing how the corners of Blaze's mouth lift slightly.

You kept running off from your chores to play with Clyde (his dog) and of course, he was chasing you around like a babysitter trying to get you to finish your work.

It was truly a nightmare when you had to clean after the animals. You were gagging, whining, he was honestly convinced you were going to start bawling at that point it was quite amusing.

After that, it seemed you were a bit desensitized from that experience and you were managing the rest of the chores with few complaints but for your sake, he won't mention how he heard you cussing out your father while you were cleaning the barn.

When you were finally done with everything the sun was beginning to set. You wanted more than anything to fall face-first into your bed but you stunk and you desperately needed a shower.

When you're done you open the door only to bump into Blaze "Oh, sorry.' You squeeze past him and continue your way to your room not noticing the shade of red Blaze's face turned in your wake.

His pants tighten and the scent of your shampoo and body wash wafting from the bathroom doesn't help.

Yeah..a few things he has to worry about

[froggiewrites]

Hello! I was wondering if i could request a Zoro or a Law x gn! or m!reader with angst? They are in a fight and reader kinda ignores them and hides from them and Zoro or Law realize how in love they are with the reader? Can end however you want!

Sorry I've been so slow on requests, writer's block hit me pretty hard this week! I chose Zoro with a gn!reader for this one, it just seemed to fit him pretty well (man is not good with his emotions). I hope you enjoy it!

A Bridge Too Far

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: Zoro is terrible at handling his frustrations, and you're tired of being his punching bag. He doesn't realize what he's lost until it's gone. Warnings: Angst, Zoro being a bad boyfriend, not a happy but possibly a hopeful ending? Word Count: 2.3k

Like most of your arguments with Zoro, he started it.

He always starts it, even when he doesn’t want to. When his frustrations start to bubble, he can’t help but lash out at whoever’s closest, and that’s normally you. You’re always there, waiting for him, and you never hold it against him once he calms down. Frankly, they’re less arguments and more one-sided furious rants, as you never rise to the provocation. So he doesn’t think much of it when he snaps at you again after a particularly tough battle, one that left a buzzing under his skin and a strain in his muscles that he couldn’t shake. You wouldn’t mind. You never did.

A few minutes after you follow him to the training room, sitting quietly in the corner while he readies his swords, he finally snaps. “Will you just leave me alone for once? How am I supposed to relax with you trailing after me like this?”

You don’t just sit there and take it like you always do. You don’t just get up and leave, ready to come back when he’s calmer. You stare at him a moment, not radiating fury or indignation, simply…disappointment. Weariness. “Again?”

“What?” He snaps.

“We’re doing this again? Really?” You seem completely composed and calm. It infuriates him more than snapping ever could.

“What do you mean, doing this again? You following me around like a lovesick puppy? Yeah, I guess we are.” He hits the target in front of him harder, sending splintering wood everywhere. The sound of it pierces his brain, rattling around, making him feel even worse.

You sigh, sounding horribly burdened and beaten down. “You know what? Sure. Whatever. I’ll leave you alone, Zoro, if that’s what you want. But this is the last time. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”

He grits his teeth. “Won’t put up with this? Shouldn’t that be my line?”

Your eye twitches, finally a show of emotion, a show that he’s affecting you. “I’m not your punching bag, Zoro. I’m not here for you to use to work off your adrenaline instead of learning to deal with your emotions like an adult. I’m supposed to be someone you care about.” You finally stand, gathering your things and turning to leave. You don’t look back at him as you call, “You’re going to regret this, but I won’t.”

The door slamming echoes through the room, sounding horribly…final.

He ignores it.

It takes a few hours for him to finally wind down, for the buzzing to quiet and leave nothing but a blissful silence. He doesn’t bother cleaning up the wood all over the floor, or taking a shower to rid himself off all of the sweat. He has only one thought: his bed, warm and soft and welcoming. If he’s lucky, you’ll be in it, waiting for him to hold you close and kiss your face, the closest thing he’s ever given to an apology. He eagerly makes his way to the Sunny’s sleeping quarters, opening the door slowly to the cacophony of snores coming from Luffy and Franky, accompanied by Sanji, Chopper, and Usopp’s quiet breathing. Brook is still on deck, on watch for the night, so it makes sense his bunk is empty, but Zoro notices your bed is also suspiciously clear. Even your pillow and blanket are gone, the sheets not even wrinkled, as though no one had ever slept there at all.

A small part of him tells him he should check on you, make sure you’re alright. But a much larger, louder part is crying out for rest, and he cannot help but give in, falling face first onto his mattress without even changing clothes. He’s asleep within seconds.

He’s alone when he wakes up. He doesn’t typically sleep very long, instead napping in short bursts throughout the day, but he can see the light pouring in under the door and he realizes he must have slept at least until noon. He’s shivering, still on top of his blanket. Usually when he falls asleep like this, you throw one of the extras in your locker over him, tucking him in like a child. You must not have come back in at all last night.

He ignores the uncomfortable feeling nipping at him, something he will not name. You’re fine. You’re an adult, and one night away from your bed doesn’t mean anything.

But then you aren’t at lunch.

Sanji is giving him dirty looks, and Nami is giving him the most foul side-eye he’s ever had the displeasure of receiving. The rest of the crew are trying to act normal, but Franky is suspiciously absent and Usopp is so nervous he keeps dropping everything he tries to pick up, ending in him spilling water all over himself and taking the excuse to “take a second to go change” and never come back.

He finally breaks after Sanji brings Nami another drink, takes an obvious glance at him, and they start to whisper to each other. He makes out the words idiot, asshole, and loser (the first two from Nami and the latter from Sanji), before he slams his fork down. “What? What is it?”

Nami turns to him, filled with the sort of righteous fury she only saved for those who dare hurt her friends. “God, Zoro, you don’t even know? What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You’re all acting weird as hell!”

Sanji jumps in. “Because you’re acting like a jerk and have the gall to pretend everything is normal, asshole! What the hell did you say to them yesterday?”

What he said to…oh. That feeling comes back again, and he furiously clamps down on it, replacing it with a significantly more comfortable and familiar indignance. “That’s none of your business, cook.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I think I deserve to know why I had to find them sleeping in the goddamn kitchen this morning, actually.”

In the kitchen? Of course. It’s the one place you knew he would never find you. He never went there other than mealtimes, avoiding the possibility of another stupid fight with Sanji when he wasn’t up for it. “How the hell should I know?”

“Are you still pretending you don’t know it’s your fault? They were bawling their eyes out after leaving the training room.” Nami’s even angrier than Sanji is, and Zoro genuinely thinks she might hit him. The smaller, more tender part of himself, the one he’s ignoring, wouldn’t even blame her.

But that part isn’t in charge today. “My relationship isn’t your goddamn business.”

“Relationship? You seriously think you still have one of those?”

His blood runs cold, but he forces the feeling away, standing up from the table and stalking off. “I don’t have to take this.”

Nami calls after him, “I hope they dump you!”

Sanji cries out soon after. “I hope you fall into the sea, asshole!”

Zoro could go look for you. Should, even. But he instead makes the trek to the crow’s nest, cherishing the quiet, the solitude, the safety of it.

But as he sits in what is usually his sanctuary, he begins to feel that itch beneath his skin. Quiet turns to unbearable silence, solitude turns to loneliness, safety turns to suffocation. He tries to close his eyes, to center himself, take control as he loves to do, but the moment he does he can see nothing but your face. He can almost feel your hands on his back, rubbing soothing circles while your voice gently shushes him. You were so good at that, calming him down right when he needed you. Giving him a patience he simply didn’t deserve.

A patience he had been taking for granted.

What would he do, if another man had made you cry? If someone else had raised their voice at you as he had, time and again?

Part of him tried to justify it. But I don’t mean it, some petulant part of himself cried. They know I don’t mean it.

But do you? And would it matter, anyway? He’s still shouting. You’re still taking it. How long can you perform the same song and dance before it stops being a performance?

He needs to apologize.

He just needs to find you first. You aren’t in the kitchen, though Sanji is, and he doesn’t even speak with him this time, just giving him a mean glare that would send a lesser man running. Zoro hates to admit he deserves it. You aren’t in your bed, and your things are still missing. Not in Chopper’s office. Not in the library. Not in the bathroom, though Robin is, and he has to take a moment to furiously apologize for not knocking while she laughs at him.

He can only think of a few more places to check when he remembers who was missing this morning.

Franky’s workshop is quieter than he’s ever heard it, only filled with the quiet clanking of a small hammer against an even smaller piece of metal. Franky is using his second set of hands to put together some clockwork trinket, a significantly more delicate project that he usually takes on. Zoro is confused only for a moment, then he sees you, eyes intensely watching, and he realizes what’s going on. Franky has taken you in today, chosen something simple and small to distract you, to allow you to participate in some way. He’s always been great at small comforts like this, allowing someone the peace of his presence without worrying about being a burden.

Zoro could learn a lot from him.

Franky clearly knows he’s there, shoulders tensing slightly, but he doesn’t speak, waiting for one of you to take the first step. You don’t seem to notice either, too enraptured by the small metal bird in Franky’s hands, a look of wonder on your face that makes Zoro’s heart skip despite himself.

“Hi.” He cringes the moment he speaks, the peace shattering instantly. Franky doesn’t turn to acknowledge him, but he can practically feel the wince that must be on his face from the lame opener. Your head shoots up like a frightened rabbit, every part of you tense and ready to run. You pull in on yourself, making yourself smaller, like if you’re lucky he might miss you entirely, move on to the next prey. He puts up his hands, the first and only act of surrender he has ever performed, before continuing. “Can we talk? In private?”

You look to Franky, and Zoro doesn’t know what the look you two exchange means, but it makes you get up and approach. You give him a wide berth, not even coming within a foot of him, but you nod at him briefly to indicate he should follow. However small of a gesture it is, you’ve finally acknowledged him. That’s something.

You lead him back down to the training room, still covered in splintered wood and reeking of sweat. He can’t help but notice you didn’t pick a neutral location. You lead him somewhere he feels safe.

You turn to him. “Talk.”

He hesitates a moment, trying not to trip over himself and somehow make this work, but he can see that he’s finally reached the end of your apparently not-quite-infinite patience. “I’m…sorry.” He says the words through gritted teeth, feeling as though they burn his mouth as they leave. He doesn’t like to apologize in words, but in action. In gentle hands, in small acts he could deny later. He doesn’t know why it embarrasses him, to admit he was wrong. He is pretty often. But something about it makes him feel so small, so weak. But he can be small and weak for you, right now. No matter how much it hurts.

Your eyes widen, and you take the smallest step backwards. Shocked by him admitting for once he’s at fault. “You’re…sorry?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at him, searching for some kind of trick, some hidden knife ready to plunge into your back. “For what?”

“For…for what? You know for what.” He winces at how defensive he sounds, at how you start to pull in on yourself again. “Sorry. Um. For yelling at you. For taking my anger out on you when you did nothing wrong. For how I always do that. I…I don’t know why I snap at you. And it’s wrong.”

“Yes, it is.” You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “It isn’t fair of you to keep doing this. I tried letting it slide, because I know you just don’t know how to handle your feelings, that you aren’t coming from a place of malice. But that doesn’t make it okay. And you never stopped.” You turn your back to him, approaching a nearby window, staring out at the sea.

“I’m going to stop now. I swear it.”

“I won’t be with someone who speaks to me like that. I deserve better. You know I deserve better.” You’re trying to play tough, but he can hear the shake in your voice, and he realizes that just like yesterday you’ve only turned around so he can’t see the tears on your lashes.

He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair. “You do. I swear I’ll treat you like you deserve. If I ever talk to you like that again, I’ll fall on my own sword.”

“...Swords.”

“Huh?”

“Swords. All three.”

He chuckles despite himself. “Alright. I’ll fall on all three at the same time.”

“Good. …You deserve it.”

“I know.” A silence hangs in the air. “I love you.”

You don’t answer.

You don’t hug him back, and you’re still sniffling, but you let him hold you. That has to be enough for now.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece (if you saw I forgot the taglist when I first posted this no you didn't)

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie remix: Give up and Be Free

Hello! It's been a while since my last remix. I felt spontaneously inspired to make this based on my most favourite 4dbarbie asks. This one's a bit different as this time I got help from AI so they did a lot of the legwork and I made edits as I saw fit, it definitely cut down on the amount of time it takes to make a remix! I asked them to write it in a conversational tone like a friendly guru talking to me so some of the wording has been changed (which can sometimes be helpful in understanding the message in a new way) so it's not entirely 4dbarbie's words verbatim but the message remains the same (feel free to check out the source texts if you wish!). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: This is based on 4dbarbie's guide to a new identity but you can do it with I AM in mind instead (replacing paragraph 6) for self-realization

My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red

Source texts: 1, 2, 3, 4 Recommended reading: 1, 2, 3, 4

Welcome, my friend. Let me guide you through something deeply transformative, yet so simple it might surprise you. First and foremost, you need to get to a place within where the person you’re identified with no longer bothers you. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. It’s not about force or willpower—it’s more of a surrender, or as I prefer to call it, a giving up. Yes, giving up. Because even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. Even if this feels like misery at first, accept it. Just sit with it. Only when you no longer fear things staying the same, when you cease caring, does true change begin.

You see, I didn’t fake being unaffected. I simply allowed things to happen to “me”. Painful, pleasant, it didn’t matter. I didn’t try to change anything. I let go of the exhausting loop of desire and fear, like finally putting down a heavy load. The emotions still came, but I didn’t involve myself with them. They didn’t interest me anymore, I became indifferent and neutral to whatever was happening. If I got what I wanted, fine. If I didn’t, fine again. Events passed by like clouds—leaving no imprint, no reverberation. In time, it was like they never existed at all.

And here’s the beautiful part—you’ll begin to toy with this idea: “What if none of this ever really existed in the way I thought?” It’s playful and not serious because you've stopped caring. You’ve stopped chasing “realization”, stopped chasing anything. There's no more trying, no more effort. You no longer want or need anything. And in place of needing nothing, you find something you never expected: power. Not power over things, but power in yourself, in your complete detachment from the world. When you reach this point, everything else becomes secondary.

So how do you walk this path? Start by giving up. Give up the idea that you can control anything. You can do nothing about life but cease caring and let it happen. Do not try to understand anymore; simply be. Let everything be as it is. Let life happen. After all, we all die one day, and it’ll all be over anyway. Why exhaust yourself worrying, fearing, striving or desiring? It’s like fighting an ocean tide—you’re just tiring yourself out. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Instead, step back and let the waves wash over you, let life happen as it happens. Life will flow as it will, and you no longer push or pull at it.

Expect nothing. Not from your body, not from your mind, not from the world. Let them be as they will. If life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. It’s like facing a bully—when you stop reacting, when you stop caring, they lose interest. Sure, maybe they’ll hit harder for a while, but you’ve already surrendered. What more can they do? The same goes for life—stop caring what happens and you’ll find it starts losing its power over you.

Now that you’ve freed yourself from expectations, give yourself everything. Live completely in the moment, forget about a past, don't think about a future. Be here, fully, now. All the good things you used to think about others, think about yourself. In each moment, ask yourself “What if there’s nothing outside of me? What would I think and feel right now?”. Let go of caring what life does with it, just do it. You’re not doing it for some future result; you’re doing it because it feels true to you; to be free and be exactly what you want to be in the moment. Whether tomorrow repeats itself or brings something new, so what? You no longer depend on anything external to feel fulfilled. You keep to yourself and continue thinking what you want, continue being who you want to be. If life follows along, let it. If it doesn’t, let it not. Hold steady to what feels right within you, and allow your thoughts to shape what's real to you.

Finally, remember to forget. The past? Gone. What you see before you? Just a shadow of what was. Now, here’s the key: Want nothing. Do nothing. Don’t chase, don’t seek—just let yourself be. This doesn’t mean you stop living or acting; it simply means you stop the endless striving, the relentless push to try make life bend to your will. Instead, just watch what happens. And most importantly, don’t attach any meaning to it. Be a witness, a quiet observer of the flow of life. Whatever happens, good or bad, is just passing through—you have nothing to do with it. It’s not permanent, nothing is. So why believe in it as though it were immovable? Cease caring and be free!

Let the world dance as it may, but you—remain still within. Watch as the transient nature of everything becomes clearer. You’ll see that the world outside is nothing more than a reflection of the thoughts you no longer hold, and that what you once took to be reality soon ceases to be when you take away your identification.

[splatashahowlett]

missing piece

logan (james) howlett x reader

the record player was playing One piece at a time, your favorite song, occasionally letting out a soft sound of scratching against the vinyl. the bar was crowded and everybody seemed to have a good time. the 70's may become your favorite decade. you've been alive for over a hundred years now but you liked everything about this era; the music, the clothes and the recklessness of it.

you were currently seated at the bar, drinking whatever the bartender had offered you. the guy had been hitting on you all evening, and you figured that free drinks couldn't hurt since your healing factor would keep you from getting drugged. you liked the attention anyway, your ex lover had disappeared on a random tuesday and never came back home. it had been four years since you had last seen him, you weren't mad at him anymore, but more at yourself for thinking a man could keep his promises. so some compliments were always welcomed.

you were watching people dance, the festive atmoshpere filling a void in your chest. whenever you felt alone you would go to a bar, or a pub just to feel something. in those places, time seemed to stop, you could be invisible. nobody cared about you or asked anything from you. sometimes you would dance with a random girl or guy and end up in their motel room just to sneak out the second they fell alseep. you were conscious that this lifestyle wasn't for everybody. in fact, you didn't enjoy it in the slightest. but you didn't have a choice. you didn't have any family anymore, and the only person that counted took off 4 years ago. you didn't work and your only hobby was drinking. you weren't living, but barely surviving. but with time you get used to it, right?

right as when you were about to get up to dance, someone sat next to you. too close for your liking. you turned your head and were met with a drunk looking guy, staring at you like you were some piece of meat. you gave him a look that meant "get the fuck out of here and leave me alone" but he didn't seem to want to comply.

"hello pretty girl, need some company?" he said, or at least that's what you understood. his breath hit your nose and you almost threw up; your heightened senses could really be a pain in the ass sometimes.

"go fuck yourself" you said, walking toward the back door. the guy following you.

"I think I'll need some help with that, my girl" he said, trying to catch up with you. you ignored him, or at least he thought so, and went through the back door, making sure he was still behind you. once you found yourself in a small alley, you grabbed him by the collar and pushed him brutally against the wall.

"I am not your girl" you threatened. the dickhead tried to answer but with your hands on his throat the task seemed more difficult than usual. you hated this petname, it reminded you of things you wanted to forget. you let go of him, letting him fall to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. that wasn't necessary but he deserved it.

you went back inside, planning on gathering your things and then finding a place to sleep. you folded your jacket on your arm and put your pack of cigarettes in your pocket. but as you turned toward the door, your heart stopped. a familiar face looking at you from the crowd. at first you thought you were hallucinating, the fucker was dead. you hoped he would be. it would hurt less. but when he started coming closer you scoffed.

you couldn't do it without a drink, so you sat back and asked for straight tequila. you missed this vanishing feeling the night procured you.

logan sat next to you and asked for a drink. you refused to look at him. you wanted to punch him in the face, alright maybe you were still a little mad at him. seeing him here, and so close to you made you mad. you wanted to kill and kiss him.

"I missed you" he said, looking afar. out of all the things he could have said you weren't expecting this. you scoffed and tightened your grip on your drink.

"shut your damn mouth" you gritted through your teeth, still holding onto your drink for dear life. you had imagined what it would be like to see him again and promised to yourself that you would tell him you moved on and leave him speechless. you never thought you still loved him so deeply. you hated how he made you feel, you hated feeling weak. but you loved everything else about him, and if feeling vulnerable was the price to pay to be with him then you wouldn't think twice about it.

"I didn't have a choice" he added, this made your blood boil. you knew he was telling the truth and you had already forgave him, you just needed to hear him say it. you didn't say anything, didn't ask about the reason of his departure. you kept your mouth shut, hoping he would take the hint and leave. no you didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to think that you wanted him to leave.

"I’m sorry” he muttered. this was your last straw, your glass broke between you fingers, shards of glass flying all over the counter and cutting into your hand. you jumped, startled at your own doing. logan reached for your hand immediately but you moved it away before he could even brush it.

"fuck you" was the last thing you said before running to the bathroom. your healing factor was already pushing the glass out of your flesh but it still hurt as hell.

“let me help you” you hadn’t even hear him coming in. you smiled, amused at the situation. you terribly wanted to give him your hand but your pride told you otherwise.

“why are you here?” you whispered, almost scared that if you spoke louder he would disappear.

“I told you, I miss you”.

“of course you do, that's why you came back so quickly” you said, washing the blood off your hand. “I just know you were bored to death without me" you joked, trying to ease the tension.

logan approached and slowly put his hands on your waist, your back facing him. he then delicately planted his chin on your shoulder. “I know you won’t believe me when I tell you I did this to protect you and that’s fair but I need you by my side, I need my girl” you swore you heard a sob in his voice. you looked up, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you could see logan’s head next to yours he was looking at you. this was the first time you’ve look into his eyes since he left. and they felt like home.

you turned around slowly, facing him. you hands claimed back their place on either side of his face. wiping his tears. seeing logan cry was rare, extremely rare. you felt your heart broke at the sight. he put his hands on yours and closed his eyes, enjoying how your touch felt like after so many years. nothing changed, not his love for you nor what he felt around you.

“let me take you home” he begged

“where?”

“doesn’t matter, home is whenever I’m with you”

you knew that your james was telling the truth, and you knew that you still loved each other.

"I need time, james" you answered, even if your mind was already made you had some self respect. you were about to say something else but logan beat you to it:

“I love you” he breathed.

you kissed him passionately, making up for all the lost kisses.

"I love you most"

you were still upset about what he did, but at the end of the day, you knew he did it for a good reason and that it hurt him maybe even more than it did you, and you certainly couldn’t imagine life without him.

you both cried into the kiss, silently promising to always be on each other's side.

"come on, let's get out of here"

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

hii i saw your request were open for zoro so i was wondering if you could write something with the hidden injury trope and he takes care of her when she collapse at one point tysm !! (ignore if you dont feel inspired or comfortable ofc)

( So quickly, an A/n: I decided to continue the Stay by Me storyline with this one, and the events of the show will be stretched a little bit. Spoilers!)

A lot has happened since you've been found out. You met the rest of the 'crew'. Luffy, the ever-go-lucky captain, immediately pulled you into a hug and welcomed you to his crew. Nami, the only other girl, had a slightly distrustful expression; muttering a small hello, she crossed her arms and continued to watch you as Usopp introduced himself and already began to tell his many stories.

Zoro hadn't left your side, wherever you were, he was there, watching. You would have thought it would freak you out, but if anything, you felt safe, like you didn't have to look over your shoulder anymore. Life was good. Until it wasn't.

You were attacked by a ship of Marines who was led by Luffy's grandfather, almost got lost in the fog you sought cover from, and were able to get out by your captain's nose and his love of food that you all found a restaurant ship where you would meet your future crew mate and Zoro's least favorite person. The mighty Dracule Mihawk was sent there by Luffy's grandfather, and Zoro challenged him to the death. He agreed.

Nami tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen, even to you. You tried, but when his callous hand caressed your cheek, his deep brown eyes staring into yours, and the soft tone in which he spoke, saying that he was gonna win, that he'd never leave you unprotected, you believed him.

What a fool.

Everything happens so fast. Zoro was injured in a duel with Mihawk; on the edge of death, Nami left with a pirate crew of fishmen and the map of the grand line. Zoro woke up, and you all set sail to find Nami, along with Sanji. You learned about her past and helped her defeat the dreaded Arlong. During the fight with Arlong, you become injured, and nobody knew, You had more important matters than the burning pain of shards of glass stuck in your side.

It wasn't till after the fight you passed out from the pain.

The gentle rocking of the ship was the first thing you felt as you gained consciousness. The feeling of someone's hand holding yours tightened as your eyes slowly opened. "Zoro..?" You managed to coak out, turning to look at the man in question. "Why didn't you say anything..?" Zoro said after a minute of not saying anything, his brown eyes snapping up to look at your face.

You gulped, "I didn't think it was important." Your eyes plead for him not to be mean. "Not important? Not fucking important!?" Zoro growled, standing up from the chair he sat on and letting go of your hand. "It's important to me! You're important to me.." He lowered his voice at the last part, no longer sounding angry but simply hurt. "Zoro," you grunted as he helped you sit up in bed, "I'm sorry, I should have said something. I was just worried about everyone else. I'll tell you next time. I promise." You held up your pinky and smiled at the tired chuckle that left the green-headed swordsman. Zoro locked his pinky around yours.

Using your pinky, he flong you into his body, your soft, plump stomach hitting against his abs, and his plush lips smashed against yours, stealing your breath away.

When you both parted, he whispered against your lips, "You're my woman. I'm your man. From now on." You couldn't be happier.

@xxmaddhatter39xx

[heartfullofleeches]

Kaimana [Seahorse Yan] would be happy with a child of any gender, but everything about this man screams girl-mom. All this Seahorse dreams about is a daughter or two that's the splitting image of him and/or his darling - so when responsible, easy going single parent Reader strolls onto his beach with the sweetest little girl by their side, Kai is praying to the gods above this happy family of two might welcome another member - maybe more if Reader is open to the idea of having more children.

-

"Found another one!"

A smile warm enough to melt the most frigid of hearts sprouts across your face as you extend your hand out to the tiny one eagerly waving a seashell in your face. You turn the shell over in your palm - your expression beaming with praise for another remarkable find as you gently place it amongst the growing collection of shells and small rocks given to you. So kind of the bartender to give you an empty cup to place them all in. His generosity extended well beyond that fot letting you sit here at the front when the sign hanging overhead clearly said "paying customers only".

"Might I get you a drink? We have an acceptable sale on specific cocktails this time of day."

"No thank you, I try to avoid alcohol when I'm out with her... My daughter, I mean. You mind if I sit here for a minute? The boss said she wanted to explore on her own and I can watch her safely from here."

Is it foolish to say a heart can be stolen with so few words?

Kai must be the king of all fools if that were true. There are few things more charming than those who care for their young. Those who sacrifice their own pleasure for the benefit of another. The fact he found you considerably more attractive than the average patron only worsened his fantasies. Perhaps it was the lense of your parenting skills guiding his judgement, but you were fairly easy on the eyes. The type of face he wouldn't mind waking up next to every morning for the remainder of his mortal days.

And your daughter-

How could he forget that little angel. She was shy at first, but upon seeing the two of you deep into conversation as she returned from the sand for a second time, she offered a small hello to your new friend and with your gentle assurance felt comfortable enough to offer him a shell-

If this encounter wasn't the heavens answering all his prayers he didn't know what it is.

The absence of a ring on your finger gave him hope. He hadn't seen you before - the chance of you being a tourist rather than a resident of the nearby town was high, but not a definite. Maybe you just moved in. Possibly.... following a divorce? The passing of your former lover? As tragic as either outcome could be, Kaimana itched with longing for the true answer. If your partner truly was out of the picture this was a sign. A chance for him to have the life he's always dreamt of.

"So! Will parent number two be joining you this afternoon?"

Your lips tighten as you usher your daughter off to go play. Sadness? Distain? Kaimana can't quite tell.

"We... don't really talk about them. They aren't exactly in the picture anymore...."

Jackpot.

"Oh, Dear... I am so sorry to hear that. I'm aware you said you wouldn't drink around your daughter, but if you have a babysitter perhaps I can take you someplace else for dinner a night that you are free?"

[wholoveseggs]

hello gorgeous! i got another idea! How about reader going through a divorce where the husband is really an arrogant asshole, permanently making fun of her etc. And then she meets Elijah, and they start getting close and he helps her gain her confidence back and shows her how she should be treated. And maybe a few months later, after the divorce, she meets the ex-husband somewhere again and he tries to humiliate her again but Elijah is there and he puts him in his place. Smut is very much welcomed. 🫶🏻

Change

I hate Antoinette, but they were hot together

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Your marriage causes you to feel trapped and worthless. Until you meet a handsome stranger at a café and he shows you how much more you can be.

♡♡ Thanks for the request lovely @msveronicag, I hope you enjoy it! ♡♡

5.8k words - Warnings: angsty, smutty, reader has low self-esteem, husband is verbally & financially abusive, cheating, car sex, Elijah being a bit of a rascal.

When you first got together with John, he was just so charming and you couldn't help but fall for him. It was hard to say no to him, and you were in a haze of love for a long time. He was such an extrovert, loud and funny, and you felt like you couldn't live without him.

But over the course of your marriage things started to change, his mask slipping and showing the real John underneath. At first it was just a comment here and there, you told yourself he was just having a bad day, but then it just kept getting worse.

The day you stopped loving him, was the day he had a bad day at work and decided to take it out on you. You cooked his favorite dinner, trying to make him feel better, and when he came home, he told you to order takeout instead. You were in the middle of making it, so you just told him it would be done soon, and tried to ignore him.

He took the food and threw it in the sink, and started yelling. You were so stunned, you just stood there and let him. He said the most terrible things, telling you how worthless and pathetic you were, that no one would ever want you if they knew you were like this.

A part of you started to believe him, because no matter how hard you tried to be a good wife, you just weren't. John was so kind and charming to everyone else, so it clearly had to be your fault.

You slowly stopped talking to your friends and family, you were probably annoying them anyways.

John eventually cheated on you, and then you found out he was cheating with multiple women. He would disappear for days at a time, off with someone else. You didn't even care, you didn't love him anymore.

Abuse is insidious like that, you become numb to it all, your brain normalizes it to help you cope, until you don't realize that you are being abused. Until you think it's your fault...

You woke to the sound of yelling, your usual alarm clock these days. John was a loud and obnoxious man, and he had no problem screaming at you whenever the mood struck him.

Today's argument was over you sleeping in. You wanted to stay in bed for a little longer, and John couldn't stand to wait another moment. So he went ahead and had to make his own breakfast, and then came upstairs to berate you.

"You really are a lazy slob! I bet you didn't do any of the laundry either. Get up and clean the house!"

You slowly got out of bed, lately your coping mechanism was ignoring him. If you didn't say anything perhaps he wouldn't yell at you. It wasn't a great coping mechanism, but it was the only thing keeping you sane.

"Are you fucking stupid? Answer me!" John yelled as you walked into the bathroom, closing the door in his face.

That didn't stop him, he yelled through the door, and you turned on the shower. Perhaps you would stand there for an hour, just to piss him off.

Just when you started to relax under the warm water he started banging on the door.

"You've been in there too long, wasting the water I pay for. Get out!"

You didn't have a job, because John told you he would take care of you. You were young and naive, you learned the hard way that being financially beholden to any man was a bad idea.

You finally turned off the shower and dried off. You put on a baggy shirt and sweats, and opened the door. He was gone, probably downstairs watching tv.

You got dressed and headed to your craft room, you spent a lot of time in there. You enjoyed painting intricate scenes on canvases, it was the only thing that gave you joy anymore.

When you painted, your mind would go completely blank, and you would lose yourself in the art. Sometimes you would paint for hours and not even notice.

You put on some music and started working on a landscape. You didn't realize how much time passed until the door opened.

John must of had a day off work because he was still home, he usually left by this time. He stood there and watched you for a moment.

"I'm bored and hungry. Make me lunch."

"I'm not your maid. Make it yourself," you mumbled, not taking your eyes off the canvas.

"Why the fuck do you even waste your time with that? Do you think anyone cares about your mediocre shit?" He snapped.

He's right, no one would care about your paintings, even if you shared them. You weren't that talented, it was purely a form of escape. But a small part of you dreamed of being able to sell your artwork and live off the income.

You set down your paintbrush and sighed.

"I don't do it to show off, I do it because I enjoy it. It calms my mind and makes me happy," you answered.

He laughed, a cruel and mocking sound. He had no appreciation for art or culture, he only cared about money and power. He stepped forward and ripped the canvas off the easel, and started tearing it to pieces.

"How's that for making you happy? Do you still want to paint? Be a famous artist? Real Picasso you are!" He sneered, laughing at his own joke.

You didn't want him to see you cry, so you just got up, grabbed your things and walked out of the house. You felt so weak, such a pushover, unable to defend yourself against his cruelty. A little voice in your head told you that you deserved it, no one knew you better than John, so if he said you were worthless and pathetic, then you must be.

There was a cafe near your house, you always went there when John was being too much for you to handle. It was a cute little spot that doubled as a vintage book store. Dark wooden bookshelves that went from floor to ceiling, plants in every corner and a cozy seating area with large comfortable couches and chairs. It also displayed paintings from local artists on its walls, you enjoyed the ambiance of the place, it made you feel at peace. You would buy a coffee and sit in there for hours reading.

You had seen the same man there a couple times, and his striking appearance caught your eye. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his brown eyes piercing, and his strong jawline was covered in stubble. There was something about him that drew you in, but you were far too shy to ever approach him. What would you even say to a man like that? Hey, I think you a stupidity beautiful? Is the book you're reading good? What do you do for fun? It all sounded so pathetic in your head, so you stayed away.

You noticed that he was always nice and polite to the waitresses and he tipped generously. You wondered if he was like John, that it was all just a facade and that he was secretly cruel underneath his mask of civility. But his face was always soft, his voice gentle, and the way he held the door open for other people gave you hope that he was a genuinely nice man.

You would never see him in anything other than a three piece suit, which was unusual for this neighborhood. His dark blue, or sometimes black suits, fit him so well and complemented his skin tone. He wore crisp white shirts and you could tell he was muscular underneath, not bulky, but lean.

You would sip on your coffee, reading, and stealing glances of him out of the corner of your eye. It was probably pathetic, but the way he looked and carried himself made you feel good, so you let yourself.

One day as you were reading your book, you noticed him reading the same book. Perhaps it was the extra espresso shot you added to your coffee or the fact that it was the first sunny day in weeks, but you found the courage to get up and introduce yourself.

"Hey, uh, I see you have excellent taste in books," you smiled at him, your heart fluttering when he made eye contact. You fought the urge to run away, his gaze was intense, but not harsh.

"It seems you do as well," he returned the smile, his voice was like velvet. He gestured to the seat across from him. "Please, join me."

You felt butterflies in your stomach as you sat down, trying your best to maintain eye contact and not blush.

"What made you choose this particular book?" He asked, gesturing at it.

"Honestly, the cover. The art style is really appealing," you told him, blushing a bit. The way he was looking at you made your breath catch in your throat.

"Interesting, I thought the same thing." He chuckled, closing his book and holding out his hand. "I'm Elijah, by the way."

"Y/N," you introduced yourself, taking his hand and shaking it.

"What do you think of it?" He asked, leaning back in his armchair, your gaze lingered on his arms as he crossed them.

"What?" You said, feeling your cheeks heating up. Why did you have to be so stupid all the time?

"The book, what do you think of the book?" He chuckled, tilting his head and smiling.

You talked about the book, the writing, the characters, and how you thought it was going to end. You ended up talking for hours, he was easy to talk to. You found yourself getting more and more relaxed around him.

Elijah had this aura about him, an air of confidence that was oddly comforting. He was polite and charming, with only a hint of a mysterious accent that intrigued you.

"I can't believe we've been sitting here for so long," you laughed. "I didn't mean to keep you, I'm sure you have other places to be."

"No, I have nowhere I need to be, I'm enjoying your company," he said softly. You noticed his gaze lingered on your lips.

You glanced down at your watch and saw that it was nearly 11pm. "Wow, I should go, my husband is probably wondering where I am." You got up and dug around in your purse to pay the bill.

"I would love to see you again," Elijah said as you pulled out your wallet. "Here, let me." He pulled out his own wallet and handed the waitress some cash.

A giddy, almost school girlish, smile spread across your face. "Oh, okay. Thank you, that would be great." You stuttered a bit, blushing and putting your wallet away.

"Have a lovely night," he said softly, getting up and kissing the back of your hand.

Your heart fluttered, and you couldn't wipe the silly grin off of your face as you left. You hadn't felt this feeling in so long, and the thought of seeing him again filled you with joy.

The next few weeks felt like a dream, every day you would go to the cafe and read. You would sit in Elijah's section, and after a while he would show up and sit across from you, drinking his coffee.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he said the first time. "I just enjoy your company."

"You're not interrupting," you blushed, putting your book down. "I enjoy your company as well."

As time went on, the conversations got more and more personal. He asked about your job, your life, and your husband. You didn't want to talk about John, it was hard to admit you had been in a bad marriage for so long. You told him a little, about how you both fell out of love, and were basically roommates.

Elijah would listen intently, and would always ask the right questions. He was very good at drawing information out of you. But whenever he got too close to the truth you would change the subject.

It was obvious that he was a good listener and had a kind heart. You wondered why he bothered with you, a nobody, when he was clearly such a sophisticated man. He could have anyone, and yet he was sitting with you.

One day he brought you a gift, it was a tiny ornamental bird, painted a beautiful shade of green. It was just like the one in the first book you both read, and you had told him how much you liked it. You were speechless, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you.

You decided to make him a gift, and spent all day working on it. It was a bookmark with an image of a forest painted on it. You used a mix of acrylic and watercolor, the greens and browns blending together.

John walked in on you finishing up, and sneered at your painting. "Are you trying to impress somebody with that? No one's gonna want that ugly thing." He said, scoffing.

Your heart sank and you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He was right, who would want it? It was nothing special.

You were going to give it to Elijah anyways, but you kept second guessing yourself. He wouldn't want it, it was a stupid idea.

He came into the cafe a little later that day, and greeted you with his usual warm smile. Your stomach twisted into knots, and you felt your palms starting to sweat.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound normal. "How are you today?"

"I'm well, how are you?" He replied, sitting across from you.

"I'm good, thank you," you nodded. You decided it was now or never. "So, I made this for you," you blurted out, holding out the bookmark. Your face was hot, and you wished you could hide under the table.

Elijah's face lit up, and he gave a wide crooked smile. "This is wonderful, thank you," he said.

You watched as he picked it up, admiring the artwork. He traced the pattern of trees with his finger and he seemed completely enamored with it.

"You are very talented, do you sell these?," he asked. He looked up and saw the expression on your face.

“Oh god no, I don't know about that, I mean, I just do it for fun, and..."

You were interrupted by your phone ringing, it was John.

"Sorry, one moment," you said, answering the call.

"Where the hell are you? It's past 8pm, and I'm starving, come home and cook dinner," he growled.

You felt your cheeks heat up under Elijah's gaze, shame and embarrassment washed over you.

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry, I'll be right home," you whispered, you felt so small.

"Hurry up, lazy ass," John snapped before hanging up.

You put your phone away, and forced a smile.

"I'm sorry, I have to go, I forgot my husband was cooking dinner," you lied.

Elijah nodded, his brow furrowing a bit. "Alright, have a lovely night," he said.

"You too," you mumbled as you quickly grabbed your things and left.

You cried all the way home, feeling like a such a loser, a complete failure. Why couldn't you have someone like Elijah in your life? Someone who listened, someone who cared, someone who didn't berate you every second of the day.

You wondered what Elijah thought of you, did he see you as pathetic and weak? A fool that let her husband walk all over her?

It didn't matter, he was so out of your league, you were just a stupid, fat nobody. He would never want you, no one would.

When you showed up to the cafe the next day you noticed a fancy sports car with tinted windows parked out front. It looked very out of place on your street, the only people around who had cars like that were old rich people, and the occasional drug dealer.

Before you reached the door you heard your name being called, and turned around. You saw Elijah waving at you from the driver's seat of the car.

You approached the passenger seat window, and he smiled, beckoning you to get in. You sat down and he handed you a cup of coffee, you smiled at the gesture, he knew your order.

"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.

"I want to show you something," he said, pulling on to the street.

"What is it?" You asked.

"It's a surprise," he said, smirking.

You had no idea where he was taking you, but you didn't mind. You were excited to spend some more time with him.

When he pulled up to the local community centre you were very confused. You couldn't imagine why Elijah wanted to bring you here, maybe it was part of the surprise.

You both got out of the car and entered the building. Inside there was a craft show going on, local artists had set up tables displaying their wares.

His thoughtfulness touched you deeply, he had taken the time to bring you here because he knew you loved art.

The next couple hours were spent perusing the aisles and admiring the paintings, sculptures and crafts. Elijah seemed to have an interest in all of it, asking lots of questions and complimenting the artists. He had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, it's something you admired about him.

"You could get a booth here, sell your art if you wanted," he suggested.

"Oh, I don't know about that, this is just a hobby," you said, brushing off his idea.

"Why not?" He pressed.

"I...well, no one would want my stuff, I mean, they're just little paintings," you sighed

"I would, I think you're very talented," he said softly.

Your heart swelled at his words.

"Thanks," you smiled.

After the craft show, he drove you home, you made him park at the end of the street. You knew how jealous John could get, and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you getting dropped off by a handsome stranger.

"Thank you, Elijah, this was fun," you said.

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied.

"You can't tell anyone about this, I mean, if John finds out, he'll..." You trailed off, feeling stupid.

"He will what?" Elijah's eyes were full of concern.

"Oh, he just, gets jealous easily," you said, fumbling over your words.

"Are you not allowed to have friends?" His brow furrowed, and his eyes hardened a bit.

"No, I mean, I can have friends, I'm just not, uh, supposed to have guy friends," you admitted.

"That doesn't sound like a healthy relationship," Elijah said, his voice sounding slightly deeper than usual. "How about business partners?"

"What?" You were confused.

"If I could help you with your art career, get you a booth at the craft fair, promote your work, would that be allowed?"

"Uh, I guess so," you said.

"Excellent, let's meet tomorrow, discuss what needs to be done," he smiled.

"Okay," you smiled, a warm feeling spreading through your body.

When you got home you decided not to tell John, the last thing you wanted was an argument. Maybe if you were successful and sold a lot, then he would be happy for you, but that was just wishful thinking.

You and Elijah had been meeting up once a week for two months, discussing your art, and ways to improve your sales. He was an expert at marketing, and had already gotten you some commissions.

It was nice to have something else to focus on, instead of constantly being reminded that you were a failure. And for the first time in your life you were making your own money, it felt good.

You started to feel more confident in yourself, Elijah was always saying how talented and special you were, and it was beginning to stick.

Today was the craft fair, and you were nervous, what if no one bought anything? What if they all hated it and thought it was ugly?

Elijah pulled up in his fancy car, and greeted you with his usual warm smile. You both had gotten so much closer in the last couple months, and he had become your best friend. He was the only person in your life that made you feel like you mattered.

Your feelings for him were beyond friendship, but you couldn't risk losing him. It was better to have him as a friend, than nothing at all.

The craft fair was going well, you had already sold two pieces, and were chatting with some customers.

"Oh my goodness, this is gorgeous," one of the customers, an older woman, exclaimed.

"Thank you," you beamed.

"How long have you and your husband been selling these?" She asked, gesturing to you and Elijah.

"Oh, uh, we're not married," you blushed.

"Sorry, I just assumed, your ring..." she trailed off.

You glanced down at your hand and saw your wedding band, the simple gold band John had given you so many years ago.

"I am married, just not to him, we are just business partners," you smiled awkwardly.

"Oh, my mistake," the woman said, returning your smile, her gaze lingering on Elijah.

"It's okay," you blushed, trying to busy yourself by wrapping the painting she had purchased.

"You'd make a lovely couple," the woman said, handing you her credit card.

Your face burned, and your palms began to sweat. You had tried your best to not think of him that way, it wasn't fair to him, or to John. But the thought was always in the back of your mind.

"Thank you, have a nice day," you managed, handing her the wrapped painting.

"You too dear," she said, winking.

You sold out quickly, and decided to celebrate with a drink at a nearby bar.

"I'm very proud of you," Elijah smiled. "You have a natural gift."

"Thanks," you said, feeling yourself blush.

He leaned in close and took your hand, tracing your wedding band. "This doesn't suit you," he said.

"Excuse me?" You squeaked, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering madly.

He ignored your reaction and just grinned, his fingers intertwining with yours. You stared at your hands, his thumb lightly caressing your knuckles. Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" He said, his gaze fixed on your face.

"Sure," you whispered, unable to take your eyes off of him.

"Why didn't John show up to support you?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Your heart sank. You had purposefully not told John, not wanting to hear him complain about it, or belittle you.

"Well, um, I didn't really invite him," you confessed.

"Why not?"

"Because, I knew he wouldn't care," you sighed. "And I don't want him to know I'm earning my own money,"

"Because you plan on leaving him." It wasn't a question.

"Y-yeah, eventually," you stammered.

He leaned forward and kissed the back of your hand. "Good, you deserve better," he murmured, his lips still grazing your skin.

You didn't know what to say, your head was spinning and you felt hot all over.

"You never talk about him, but I can tell you are unhappy," he said, sitting back.

"It's complicated," you whispered.

"You can talk to me," he said.

You paused for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. You had never talked to anyone about your feelings for John, it was too difficult.

"Well, we used to be happy, when we first got married, but now he's not the same," you said, trying to keep the emotion out of your voice.

"How so?"

"He's controlling and possessive, and he yells a lot. He doesn't love me anymore, and I'm not sure he ever did," you admitted, tears welling up in your eyes. "He cheats on me regularly and controls the finances. Selling my art is the first opportunity I've had to earn money of my own, and I'm terrified of what he'll do if he finds out."

You felt yourself begin to cry, and tried to wipe the tears away, ashamed that your life had turned out this way.

"You hold all of this pain inside, it's not healthy," Elijah said, his face was unreadable.

"I know," you sobbed. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying, it's so stupid."

"It's not stupid, you're not stupid," he said, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

You looked into his eyes, his face full of concern. He cared about you, and it was a relief to finally have someone to confide in. You feared that Elijah would reject you, see you as pathetic, but he didn't. He stayed by your side, listening and offering comfort.

"If you ever decide to leave him, you are more than welcome to stay with me," he said.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course, you're my friend," he smiled.

You threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. "Thank you," you mumbled.

He froze for a moment, before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. You inhaled his scent, a mixture of cologne and whiskey. He was solid and warm, and you felt safe in his embrace.

"Thank you, for everything," you repeated, beginning to pull away, but he held you in place.

You felt something stir deep inside, something primal and raw. The heat from his body, the way his strong arms felt around you, and the closeness of his face was overwhelming.

He kissed your cheek as you pulled back, and his lips lingered there for a moment. Your skin tingled where his lips had touched, and you could feel the warmth from his breath.

You sat back and looked at him, his eyes were dark and full of desire, your fingers intertwined with his. The air was thick with tension, and the electricity between the two of you was undeniable.

"I should get home," you said softly, not really wanting to leave.

"Of course," he said, his voice was deep and raspy, his grip on your hand tightening.

You paid the bill, and walked out to the parking lot. Elijah stood close beside you, and his hand brushed yours a few times as you walked to his car.  

Before you could open the passenger side door you felt his hands on your hips. He spun you around and pressed you against the car, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. You gasped as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and tasting you.

Your arms snaked around his neck, and your fingers ran through his hair. His hands slid down your hips and grabbed your ass, pulling you flush against his body.

His kiss was passionate and needy, and he moaned softly into your mouth. The sound sent a wave of heat through your body, and you felt your panties getting wet.

After a few moments, he pulled back and rested his forehead on yours, both of you panting.

"Right, okay," he said, his breathing heavy.

"Yeah," you breathed, not really sure what to say.

He pulled away and went to open the passenger door for you, but you stopped him. You felt bold and daring, and the alcohol gave you a confidence boost. You motioned to the back door, and he smirked, pushing you up against the car and kissing you again before opening the door.

You climbed in and he followed, his hands grabbing your waist as his lips found yours again. You moaned into the kiss, the heat between your legs intensifying.

The windows fogged up as you undressed, you were grateful for the tinted windows. You moved onto his lap in just your bra and panties, running your fingers through his hair. He kissed your neck and whispered your name.

"We shouldn't do this," you murmured, closing your eyes and tilting your head back.

"I know," he replied, his lips brushing against your ear.

Elijah placed feather-light kisses down your throat, his hands running up and down your back.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice thick with desire

"No," you breathed, clutching him tightly.

He reached around your waist and unclasped your bra, gently removing it and tossing it into the front seat. He ran his tongue across your breasts, circling each nipple before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands running up and down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you closer.

You blushed, your heated skin flush against his, feeling his hard cock between your legs.

"So are you," you breathed, kissing his neck and grinding against him.

Elijah groaned, his hand coming down to grip your hip and help guide your movements. You were so turned on, it had been so long since you had sex, and John was never a generous lover. You wanted Elijah so badly, you felt like you were going to combust.

His lips found yours, and you kissed him with everything you had. The heat between the two of you turning into a raging fire.

Suddenly the moment was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You both tried to ignore it, but it just rang again, and again, and again.

You broke the kiss and grabbed your phone, seeing it was your husband calling. "Fuck," you cursed, and you answered it.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?!" He demanded.

"I've been busy," you replied. Elijah began kissing your neck again, a smirk on his lips as he listened. You suppressed a moan as he began to guide your hips, helping you grind against his hard cock.

"Busy doing what?! Who are you with?!" John shouted.

"I'm just with some friends, don't worry about it," you gasped.

"You don't have any friends," he spat.

"I do," you insisted, trying not to moan as Elijah's hand dipped into your panties.

"What are their names?" John questioned angrily.

"Elijah," you moaned as his thumb brushed your clit.

"The fuck!" John yelled, going completely into a rage. The kind that always frightened you, he always had a short temper.

Elijah could see the fear on your face and took the phone from you, tucking it under his neck as he continued to pleasure you.

"John, is it?" He asked, his voice cool and calm. "This is Elijah, I'm going to need you to calm down, you are scaring your wife," he said.

"Listen, whoever the fuck you are, don't think I won't track you down and fucking kill you," John spat, his anger reaching a boiling point.

Elijah chuckled, slipping a finger inside you and making you moan, you quickly covered your mouth, but Elijah moved your hand away and gave you a wicked grin, still speaking into the phone.

"That's a little violent, don't you think?" He murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "Besides, I'd love to see you try," he smirked.

John went silent, you could hear his ragged breathing.

"Why do you pretend like you care John? She told me you fuck other people, I mean, who would blame her for finding a real man?" Elijah goaded.

You were shocked by his words, but couldn't deny how hot it was, or how aroused they were making you.

"Listen here motherfucker," John snarled, "she's mine, and I will not allow her to be touched by anyone el-"

Elijah hung up the call and discarded your phone, his eyes dark with lust as he stared at you.

"Now, where were we?" He asked, pulling you closer and kissing you deeply.

"I can't believe that just happened," you said, panting as his lips trailed down your neck.

"You don't need to worry about him anymore," he growled. "You are mine now."

You giggled, rolling your eyes at his possessiveness. But a part of you liked it, it made you feel desired, wanted.

"And I am yours," he added, his lips finding yours again, a deep and passionate kiss.

It started to rain, you could hear the droplets hitting the roof of the car. Making everything seem more intimate, as if it were just the two of you in the entire world.

You reached down and fumbled with the zipper of his pants, he lifted his hips and helped you get them down, his cock springing free. You wrapped a hand around it and began stroking him, his moans sending a thrill through your body.

"You don't ever have to go back to him," he whispered.

"I won't," you promised, your lips finding his once more.

He guided your hips, his cock teasing your entrance, and then you slowly eased down into him. He felt so good, a rush of pleasure coursed through your body. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and rocking against him.

The fire between you grew, the windows completely fogged up now. Your skin slick with sweat as you rode him slowly. Foreheads pressed together, you moved in perfect unison, a steady rhythm of passion.

You knew this would change everything, and that things were about to get very complicated. But in that moment, none of that mattered. All you cared about was being with Elijah, the only man who had ever made you feel loved and worthy.

John had taken everything from you, and had made your life miserable for the last ten years. You were trapped and made to feel it was what you deserved. But not anymore.

Elijah had shown you that you were worth more, that you deserved to be loved and cherished. He gave you the tools you needed to leave John, and the strength to do it. You would have never left him without Elijah.

And as you looked into his eyes, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you knew this was right, what love was supposed to feel like. You could see the emotions reflected in his eyes, the intensity of his feelings for you, the same intensity you felt.

You felt his muscles tense and knew he was close, his cock swelling inside you. You moved faster, chasing your own orgasm, wanting to come together. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, and when the waves of pleasure finally crashed over you, it was intense, and he came with you.

The sounds of your moans and heavy breathing filled the car, the rain pattering against the windows. You clung to each other, hearts racing, trying to catch your breath.

As the high slowly faded, you both started laughing, giddy and sated. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and he returned it, a smile playing at his mouth.

"I love you," he breathed.

"I love you too," you replied, kissing him again.

He held you tight, his lips finding yours in the darkness. You were finally free, and the world was yours for the taking.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[neowinestainedress]

hello!!!! I'm not sure if you're taking requests rn but I just wanna let this out of me or I'll go insane. I've been watching a lot of diggity haechan fancam and man really know how to hip thrust. It's just that haechan's thighs are so muscular...I-I—just wanna ride it😳😳

w!: unprotected s*x, thigh riding, light degradation, (kinda mean) dom!haechan, two *ss slap and one cl*t slap, rough s*x

a/n: someone: haechan’s thighs—  me: FINALLY SOME GOOD FUCKING FOOD. i’ve written about thigh riding with him already but will it ever be enough? no. ALSO diggity!haechan? supreme haechan, coming second to better than gold!haechan only. also, hard hours are open, and i’ll either write drabbles or blurbs depending on the inspiration (this was supposed to be a blurb and turned out longer than a drabble but yeah… yall know what happens when I write about haechan)

Imagine Haechan sitting on the couch, tired after a long day. He’s so tired he doesn’t even change into his house clothes, still wearing the white blouse and tight black pants, watching the tv because when he got home you were in the shower and he is waiting for you. 

You’re wearing his favourite nightwear when you sit next to him on the couch, kissing him and running your fingers in his hair to welcome him home, but by chance, there’s his favourite movie on tv, and he’s barely paying you attention. So in a second, you’re on top of his thigh, you’ve been thinking about this since he left earlier in the morning, drooling when he walked past you to bid you goodbye, wearing those black pants that wrap his beautiful thighs so perfectly. But now he looks even better, with his black hair crowning his face messily, the white blouse with the sleeves rolled up, showing the veins of his arm, and the first three buttons undone. Your hips start moving on their own, grinding on his thigh that flexes immediately as an innate reflex, you might do this so often that he’s not even fazed anymore. 

But this time he’s tired, even annoyed about some things that went wrong at work, and you distracting him, ignites a fire. 

“What are you doing?” Haechan groans, bouncing his leg, catching you by surprise before he calls your name sternly when you don’t reply right away. 

“What you should be doing instead,” you reply resolutely. “Didn’t even spare me a look.” 

“Oh, I did,” he coos, hand running on your nape to turn you toward him. “I know exactly what you want when you get all dolled up for me.” 

A victory smile curls your lips but it fades as soon as his attention goes back to the screen on the wall. “I fear you’ll have to work for it harder.” 

You groan annoyed, but don’t stop. You honestly don’t care much, the obsession with his thighs is crazy and unhealthy and you’d ride them forever, you’d rather feel his skin than the fabric of his pants, but this will do anyway. 

“Hyuck,” you breathe out when he starts bouncing his leg, it’s a small movement but it makes you shake every time your sensitive clit hits his leg. 

“I’m watching the movie,” he shuts you before a smug grin blooms on his face when you grunt in disappointment. That still doesn’t stop you from rolling your hips on him, and even bravely reaching down to unbuckle his pants. His eyes skim down briefly, but he lets you continue, even if he fakes nonchalance his dick is hard and begging to be freed from his tight clothes. 

“You really can’t fucking listen, uh?” He groans when you struggle pushing his pants down, harshly grabbing your chin and blocking your wrists together. 

“I just wanted to take your pants off, want to feel you,” you try to pout and pity him, it works for now but you know Haechan always has something up his sleeve, so you don’t know what awaits you after. He lets you go, getting rid of his pants only, and roughly lifting you up to put you right where you were before once he’s done. 

“Come on, get off only with that, show me how pathetic you are,” he mocks before pulling you into a messy, wet kiss, slapping your ass to silently tell you to move. Your body reacts naturally, grinding on his muscular thigh, now feeling his smooth skin and not the thick fabric of his clothes. Haechan lets out another groan when you move again, this time to push your clothes down your legs, but doesn’t say anything else, only pushes you down and guides your movements. His attention is still on the movie, but you hear his occasional shaky breaths when your thigh brushes against his throbbing cock, or when you moan louder, and you feel his hand tighten on your hip when you start whimpering his name. 

“Fuck,” you yelp when his hand hits your ass harder than last time. “What was that for?” 

“You’re slowing down,” he says, dark eyes meeting yours, and you know you’re fucked. “You started this, you will finish this. Come on, don’t stop.”

You gulp, nodding weakly before placing your hands on his shoulders. This time you’d be so close to reaching your orgasm, but right when you’re about to, the sound of the tv turns off and the lights flashing in the room stop lighting it up. You freeze on the spot when Haechan groans your name. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, seeing you turned it off by mistake with your knee. You try to act fast to grab the remote and turn it back on but the pleasure is still fogging your brain. 

“Drop it,” Haechan orders, voice low and eyes sternly looking at you. “You want my attention? You’ll have it all.” 

Your lips part but don’t let out a sound, and your eyes snap open when his hand wraps around your neck, rubbing your jaw before reaching your chin and squeezing it. “Ride my thigh and come. Don’t make me waste more time.” 

You don’t hesitate, humping him embarrassingly fast to chase the orgasm that slipped through your fingers. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, “you can’t possibly be so wet just from this,” he mocks when his free hand moves between your legs, not that he needs that to feel your cum dripping out of you, it has been sticking to his thigh since you started, he just wants to mess with you and tease your sensitive spot while watching his skin glisten with your arousal.

“It feels good,” you justify. “And your thighs — fuck, your thighs,” you mumble, head thrown back and lower lip trapped in your teeth when he slaps your clit once. “They’re pretty and thick and feel so good.” 

“Uh, really?” Haechan snickers, throwing his head back because he can’t believe you have no shame. “Maybe I’ll always make you come like this if you like it that much. My thighs only.” 

“Yeah,” you cry out, bouncing and grinding, struggling to keep a rhythm and just wishing to quickly come. “But I also — fuck — I also want you.” 

Haechan chuckles, shaking his head. “Thought my thighs were enough?” He teases, moving your head side by side in a mocking manner as he pouts close to your lips. “Need more?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you beg as one hand reaches for the back of his head and tangles in his hair. “I — I… oh, fuck,” you cry out when the orgasm washes over you before you can even say anything, hips and legs trembling as you move weakly to ride it before you collapse on him. 

You don’t have time to take your breath that you find yourself with your back on the couch seat, Haechan harshly flipping you over and trapping you underneath him. 

“Greedy, dumb baby, always playing with fire, not caring about what she gets herself into,” he mocks, pushing his sleeves up on his arm before placing you like he wants you with another rough tug. “Look at how wet you are, and all this just for my thighs?” 

You nod, wetting your lips with your tongue, as you stare into his eyes before they skim down, watching him get rid of his underwear. 

“You are a brat, and yet I always give you what you want. What am I gonna do with you?” He groans, shaking his hair out of his face as he leans down, rubbing the head of his cock on your wet pussy. 

“Fuck me?” You ask nicely, blinking your eyes innocently. 

Haechan groans. “Yeah, it’s the only way to teach a lesson, isn’t it?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, his dick is into you before you can even formulate a thought in your brain, taking your breath away from the first thrust. 

“Fuck,” you curse, hands wrapping around his arms to hold onto something. His thrusts are hard, hitting you deep with every single stroke. 

Haechan grins when your nails dig into his arms, and your head lolls back, eyes rolled in the back of your head and mouth wide. “Is it too much for you, baby? You don’t like my thighs so much anymore when they help me fuck hard into you?” 

You’d glare at him if you’d have anything coherent running in your brain, but it’s filled with nothing but lust and need. “I can take it,” you still mumble. 

“Oh, I know you can, that’s why you’re my favourite girl,” he hums, grabbing your legs and pushing them as flat as he can — and you can bend — to your chest. Your back arches in response, feeling him even deeper with each precise, hard thrust. 

When his fingers make contact with your clit, your eyes snap open, throat closing for a moment as you feel like you’re slipping farther away from reality. 

“Messy girl,” he taunts. “So wet my fingers are slipping. You planned this all day, didn’t you?” He says, breath uneven as pleasure starts overwhelming him too, your pussy gripping him tight, making it harder to move out of you, your chest heaving while your boobs look so pretty in the lace of your nightwear, and your moans filling his ear. “Couldn’t wait for me to come home to fuck you on the couch after riding my thighs like a needy, desperate thing.” 

You nod swiftly, eyes closed as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. 

“Fuck, then come with me, babe,” he says, pushing you closer with a harsh tug on your hips as his hands wrap around your waist tightly, fucking into you with force. “Gonna fill you up, fuck, just like you like.” 

Your back arches more, while your hands reach for his shoulders to pull him in a heated kiss that seals your orgasms and traps the loud whimpers and moans that are coming out of your mouths. You feel weak and dizzy as he keeps thrusting into you at a quick pace, filling the room with the lewd sounds of his cum spilling out of you, and whispering dirty words to your ear. 

“Fuck babe, you’ll be the death of me,” Haechan huffs, kissing you and caressing your forehead to wipe away the sweat before pulling out of you and pulling you into his arms, trailing kisses on your neck and shoulder. 

You chuckle, turning around to face him, tangling your legs with his. “Was this better than the movie?”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “You know you’re better than the movie, I just like teasing you.”

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

15: There She Goes

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: Charles POV, 👀🤭, +18 (will be marked), social media. Violet Sinclair cameo

a/n: HELLO LOVELY PEOPLE!!!!! I hope everyone is having an amazing summer!! Let's see how many of you remembers my other OC hehe

IMPORTANT: If someone wants to give me ideas of names you are very welcome! And ideas for a gender reveal too, I want to make it special and include your ideas!

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

f1_gossip

liked by dafneismymom, pierregasly, dafnenation and 21.478 others

f1_gossip BREAKING NEWS! This morning, an Italian gossip magazine posted pictures of a pair no one imagined could be together. And that pair is Dafne Morelli and Charles Leclerc! They were seen first in Charles' car, both of them so lovey dovey sharing a few kisses and later they were seen walking out of a medical center. 

We never guessed they could be together. What do you guys think?

view all comments

dafneismymom Omfg! There's no way they are dating! They lied to us????

dafnenation I don't think they lied… I bet Ferrari did something, you know how that team is… dafneismymom oooohh yeah, right

ferrari95 But where is she? She disappeared after the last race. She didn't even update her fandom of how she was doing??

f1_gossip the magazine said they were found somewhere in the middle of Tuscany. And that someone anonymous leaked their info

heistupid Paparazzi are so annoying! If they wanted to keep it a secret, it was for something! Why the hell didn't they expose them??

dafnenation Let's hole Dafne is alright, I'm sure she will explain soon.

The day began with a sense of calm. Waking up next to her without fear of her reaction was a relief, a feeling I hadn't experienced.. Then, I saw my kid for the first time and heard the heartbeat. The sound of the heartbeat filled the room with a resonance as profound and moving as a symphony in a grand auditorium. My baby is healthy and beautiful.

But then, those cameras. Those paparazzi.

The smile full of joy and happiness Dafne had the moment we walked out of the medical center, holding the envelope with the gender of our baby and pictures of it, was erased the moment she saw a flash and heard people calling our names. 

The joy that lit up her face vanished, replaced by a look of sheer terror. Seeing that transformation ignited a fire of anger in my veins.

I guided her quickly to the car, making sure they didn't take more pictures of us, and drive away from the village as fast as I could, not caring about speed limits 

“Are you okay?” I asked gently, barely above a whisper, looking through the rear-view mirror, making sure none of those paparazzi followed us with their cars. “Dafne”

“H-How” I heard her mumble, holding my hand tightly.

“I don't know, Daf. I really don't know” I sighed, shaking my head.

When I saw the fences of her property nearby I looked back again, sighing with relief when I didn't find a car behind us. I got out  and opened the gate, going back into the car and driving in.

“Go inside” I told her, squeezing her hand softly, and she only nodded and walked out.

I took a deep breath, pacing around and immediately feeling my phone buzzing.

Seeing Fred's name flash on my screen made me clench my jaw. I took a deep breath, steeling myself before answering.

“Fred-”

“You know where she is and yet you didn't even think about telling me?!” he screamed into the mic, making me frown and pull the phone away from my ear. 

“I can explain, Fred…”

“And you are dating her? Or what?” he groaned. “There are pictures of you two together, of you two kissing in the car. You know you can't date, there's a contract!”

“She can't drive anymore, Fred!” I exclaimed, closing my eyes immediately. “She…”

“She what, Charles” he groaned. “I know nothing about her. She didn't even call me to say she wasn't coming to the company dinner. Didn't even give me an update of her health”

“It's complicated, Fred, more than you know.” I exhaled sharply. “We'll come to Maranello tomorrow and explain everything. Just...trust me.”

“You? What do you have to do in this?” he scoffed. “This is about Dafne”

“And about me” I groaned. “We will go there tomorrow. And after the meeting you can do whatever you want with her seat. But first, listen to her”

“What are you now, her manager?” he laughed. “If I remember well, you two hated each other”

“Well, not anymore” I sighed.

“Whatever. You better have a good explanation” he said.

I ended the call and groaned, looking at how my phone was going crazy with notifications.

Not now. I can't deal with this now. I need to see her.

I walked inside of the house through the front door, finding Dafne sitting on the couch. She was looking at the pictures the doctor gave us, tracing the lines of it with her finger. I saw how she clenched her jaw a few times, how her knee was bouncing up and down, how she played with the ring on her middle finger. 

All the signs of her being anxious. Of an oncoming anxiety attack.

“Hey” I sighed, sitting next to her and placing my hand on her bouncing knee, squeezing it softly and rubbing circles on her skin. “Talk to me, come on”

“How could they find us” she murmured, her eyes still fixed on the image. “Who sent them? Who told them?”

“I don't know, Daf” I said, again. “If I knew, I would make every single person who sent them regret disturbing us”

“Why can't they leave me alone?” she mumbled. “Everyone is asking where I am. Everyone wants to know what I'm doing with my life, shaky I'm not giving signals…”

“Fred called” I said. “He…”

“Let me guess, he saw the pictures and now he's mad”

“Y-yeah” I sighed, looking down. “He saw us together. He thinks we are dating. I told him we are going tomorrow to the factory to explain everything”

I felt how her body shook with a shiver and how she took a deep breath. She can't stress right now, which is not good for the baby. If only I could take all her pain.

“And what do we tell him now?” she sighed. “Its all my fault, Charles”

“Hey, no” I frowned, placing my hand on her cheek and making her look at me. “It's not, Dafne. None of this is your fault”

“I should have told him that I couldn't race a month ago” she whispered. “The moment the doctor told me that I had to stop racing, I should have called him and told him to find another driver. Now it's too late. It's too late and I'm facing the consequences”

“You are not alone in this” I sighed, leaning closer and pressing my forehead against hers. “We are going tomorrow to the factory. We will tell him that we are going to be parents. Let him think whatever he wants, but I won't let him touch you, not even scream to you”

“Charles...” she murmured, her voice wavering with unspoken emotions."

“We will write a statement” I said, slowly. “We will tell everything. Let's be clear about our story. It's their problem if they believe us or not”

“You want to tell them everything?” she asked, with surprise in her voice.

“Everything” I nodded.

She took a deep breath and nodded slowly, leaning closer to me and wrapping her arms around mez resting her head on my shoulder. I felt her taking deep breaths, and her body started to relax after some seconds.

“We will be okay” I nodded.

She nodded and sighed, her breath hitting my neck softly while she moved closer to me.

“This is our last day in the bubble, hm?” I heard her groan, making me laugh softly.

“It is” I nodded. “But I promise you, Dafne. This is just a little obstacle. We will fix it and then we can go back to our bubble”

I felt her fingers on my nape, burying themselves on my hair, making me close my eyes and lean on her, holding her closer. I took a deep breath, breathing her scent so deeply it nearly made me taste the vanilla of her perfume. 

“What do you think everyone is saying about us?” she whispered.

“Let's not think about it” I sighed. “Give me just some minutes to calm down”

“Mhm, okay” she nodded against my chest.

I closed my eyes, resting my chin on top of her head. We were tangled into each other, hugging and holding the other like our life depended on it.

“Our baby has a beautiful heartbeat” I whispered.

“It has…” she smiled. “The most beautiful heartbeat I ever heard”

“Yeah” I nodded. “I would make a song with it. I would… God, I would write a song only for you and our kid”

“Would you?” she whispered, and somehow I heard a soft giggle.

“I will” I promised. “I will compose so many songs for you and our baby…”

“You have a beautiful heartbeat, too” she whispered, pressing her head closer to my chest.

“It beats for you” I confessed. “It always did and always will do. Only for you, there's no one else, Dafne”

She pulled away and looked up at me, with her hand pressed on my chest. Her eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that once looked at me with hate and anger, now look at me with a completely different feeling. And somehow, that made me melt.

“My heart is yours, it always has been yours, Dafne Morelli” I whispered.

“Charles…” she whispered, meaning closer to me, brushing her lips with mine.

I didn't let her say anything, pressing my lips on hers and holding her face with my hands. 

Kissing her felt intoxicating, a necessary escape. I craved the warmth of her presence, the comfort of her touch.

I felt her moving, standing up just a few seconds before she sat on my lap with her legs on each of my sides. I looked up at her, smiling while I placed my hands on her hips.

“Hi” I smiled, breathless. 

“Hi” she whispered back, placing her hands on my shoulders. 

I smile and place my hands on her belly, rubbing it softly. We are in our bubble, not wanting to know what is happening outside, ignoring our phones and focusing on what we feel right now.

“You are the most beautiful woman I ever saw in my life” I whispered, pressing delicate kisses on her lips, then her nose, then her cheek, then her jaw. “I swear, Dafne. No one compares to you”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” she breathed, her voice low and urgent, as she gently bit my bottom lip.

I chuckled, holding her close to me and slipping my hands under her jumper, pulling her closer, feeling her bump pressed against me. I pressed my lips against hers again, biting her lip softly to make her open her mouth, slipping my tongue and exploring her mouth.

I heard her moan softly and it made me go crazy. 

“Fuck” I groan, pulling away and looking at her, feeling my heart close to burst.

“W-what?” she mumbled, looking at me surprised.

“I just…” I swallowed thickly. “God, I don't want to do this in the couch”

“Oh… Oh!” she laughed, hugging me.

“Yeah” I sighed.

“Then take me to bed, Leclerc” she whispered in my ear, biting my lobe softly. “Make me yours, hm?”

“Oh fuck” I moan, holding her. 

She got up from my lap, looking down at me with a smile filled with list and desire. I followed her with my eyes, watching how she walked upstairs looking at me over her shoulder. I felt a pull, like a string tied on my heart that pulled me to her, following her close. Dafne walked to her room, leaning on the door frame and looking at me with a smile, waiting for me. I stood in front of her, placing my hand on her neck and kissing her.

I felt her hands on my hips, moving to the button of my jeans and unbuttoning it slowly, making me chuckle.

“Eager, are we?” I chuckled softly against her lips, placing my hands on her hips and walking inside her room, smiling when she started to push down my jeans.

“You have no idea” she mumbled, biting my lip. “You have way too many clothes”

“You too” I groan.

Slowly, clothes started to fall to the floor until both of us were naked in front of the other. I scanned her body with my eyes, stopping in every curve, every beauty mark. 

“You are so fucking beautiful” I whisper, taking a step closer to her. “So God damn beautiful”

She smiled, closing her eyes when I pressed my lips on her neck, wrapping my arms around her body and walking towards the bed and laying her on it.

Her skin tasted so sweet, her smell was intoxicating me, making me need more, more, more. I kissed all the way between her legs, pressing soft kisses on the valley of her chest, on her breasts, on her stomach, on her belly. 

I took a deep breath, rubbing her folds with my finger and paying attention to her reactions, diving into her core and lapping all her juices.

“Fuck, Charles…” she gasped, arching her back.

I smiled, pushing another finger until she came around them, making sure to give her all the pleasure she deserves.

“Please, I need you inside” she moaned. “Please, Charles…”

“You don't need to beg, my love” I whisper. 

She looked at me with shock in her eyes, hearing the way I called her, but her gaze softened and sat on the bed in front of me. I helped her move, holding her thighs and moaning softly when I felt her core rubbing my length, looking into her eyes.

“I think… I think I'm falling in love with you” she whispered, accommodating herself on top of me. 

“Yeah?” I smiled. 

“Mhm” she nodded, moaning softly as I entered her slowly. 

I held her, helping her move and kissing her lips slowly. Her soft moans are music for my ears, making me need more, push deeper and kiss every inch kf her body.

I felt her hard nipples pressed against my chest, and I looked at her fore a few seconds.

There was something magical about Dafne's transformation during her pregnancy. Her skin had a warm, radiant glow, and her eyes sparkled with a new emotion. Her body transformed in gentle ways. Her breasts become fuller, a visible sign of the life growing inside her. Her belly rounded gracefully, a perfect curve that I couldn't help but reach out and touch. 

I leaned on her, looking into her eyes as I kissed her left breast, cupping the other one with my hand. Something inside me was asking me to bite, to suck, to mark. And with my eyes I asked her if I could listen to my needs.

And the moment she nodded, opening her mouth to leave a moan as I rocked my lips to hit a deeper part inside of her, I let my tongue lick the skin of her breast, rubbing the nipple with it and closing my lips around it.

I heard her gasp the moment she came around me, squeezing me in a way that helped me reach the climax too, closing my eyes as I liked away from her breast and kissed her lips.

“I love you” I moaned, repeating those three words again and again until we both came down from our high. “I love you, I love you”

She looked at me, panting softly, and smiled before kissing my lips deeply.

“I'm yours” she whispered. “Yours, only yours. My heart is yours, too”

And with those words, I felt at home. She's my person. She's my home.

 I had to hold her hand to make sure she didn't bite her nails. I had to put her favorite music on the car to keep her calm. 

And I made love to her before leaving home, hoping it would ease her nerves.

“What if he gets furious?” she whispered, her voice trembling with anxiety, repeating the question for the third time since we left home.

“Then he can go to hell” I sighed. 

“He's still your boss!” she gasped. “You can't just…”

“Dafne” I sighed, squeezing her knee softly. “It's okay. We can do this”

Oh, boy. This was going to be the hardest meeting of my life with Fred. I have to explain how everything fell apart and how I fell in love with her.

“But he’ll be so disappointed, Charles,” she sighed, her voice heavy with regret. “He trusted me, and I should have been more professional, called him earlier and told him the truth

“Hey, stop blaming yourself” I said, holding her hand tighter. “You wanted privacy, you were in shock with the news. You had every right to take a break”

“But not like this. I wasn't acting as a professional at all” she groaned. 

I sighed and shook my head, taking a deep breath when I saw Maranello nearby. If the rumors were right, Fred showed Lewis Hamilton a contract to take Dafne's seat. Let's hope he's not around, because it would be bad for Dafne.

“Let's go” I sighed, parking the car and getting out of it with her.

I didn't hesitate in holding her hand, having a tight grip and walking inside of the factory, knowing that everyone would be looking at us. Luckily, Dafne was wearing a baggy jumper, making her bump not be too obvious for those who ignore her pregnancy.

“Charles, Dafne” 

We both flinched when we heard him behind us, clearing his throat and walking closer to us. She wanted to let go of my hand, but I gave her a subtle squeeze to let her know that I won't stop taking her hand even if our boss, my boss, was in front of us.

“Good to see you, Dafne” he said, with clear irony in his voice. “I think we have a lot of things to talk about, aren't we?”

“Y-yeah” she nodded, tensing.

I squeezed her hand again, looking at her. She smiled weakly and sighed, looking at Fred. He started walking towards his office and we followed him close behind him. I could feel how nervous she was, how she clenched her jaw and licked her lip as a nervous tic. 

“Sit, please” Fred said, gesturing to the chairs that were placed in front of his office.

The small room seemed to close in around me as I glanced at the photos on the walls, each one a painful reminder of what she’s about to lose.It was like he did it on purpose, putting a picture of the day she won her first race, the same one she had in her private room in the hospitality. And next to that picture, the one where I won with Ferrari for the first time.

What a dirty move.

“Well, you are free to start talking” he said, motioning us. 

“I…” she started talking, biting her lip. “I'm sorry. I did everything wrong. And please, don't blame Charles, it wasn't his fault…”

“Dafne” I frowned. 

“The day I had the crash and was sent to the hospital, I received the news that I am pregnant” she mumbled, looking down at her lap, not daring to see Fred.

“With my baby” I said, looking at Fred, somehow challenging. He knows I would do anything for my family.

“How far are you” he wanted to know, and she flinched, closing her eyes.

“Seventeen weeks” she mumbled. “Nearly five months”

“Five months…” he sighed, staying quiet for a few seconds that felt like hours. “And you two have been together since then?”

“Yes” I said quickly, watching Dafne look at me, frowning. “Not exactly that time, but… after the lawsuit thing passed, we talked about our things…”

He looked at us, scanning us with his eyes. Clearly, not believing what I said.

“You know you have to renounce your seat” Fred sighed. “Right?”

“Yeah” she nodded, and I could hear her voice breaking. “I… We came here because we wanted to make things clear”

“We planned to announce her retirement and issue a statement, hoping to control the narrative before rumors could spiral out of control.” I sighed, holding Dafne's hand and looking at her. “Today the paparazzi invaded our privacy. We didn't tell anyone where we were staying, only her family knew where we were. Someone leaked the info and gave it to them”

“Yeah, I saw the pictures” he sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “Look… This is a big mess. But I guess you are still in time to announce your retirement. I don't know if you saw the rumors but Lewis is going to take your seat”

I felt her body tense. From her hand to her feet. When she heard it, she swallowed thickly and took a deep trembling breath. 

“Right” she nodded. “So he can bring back the glory of Ferrari? He is going to retire soon, Fred. I don't think that's a good idea”

“If you two didn't share a bed none of this would be happening” he frowned. 

“What we do in our private life is none of your business” she snapped. “It was an accident, yes. But I don't regret it. And never in a million years I would have thought of getting rid of my baby just to stay here”

“I wasn't saying that, Dafne” Fred frowned.

“But I bet you were thinking it” she groaned. “That's why they say this is a sport for men, hm? Less hormones and problems. We are too weak for this”

I felt her anger coming out of the deepest part of her soul, and I had to stop her before she regrets anything. Because I know she would regret it.

“Dafne…” I sighed, squeezing her hand and shaking my head softly. 

“You are free from this team, then” Fred said. “We will announce your retirement after you give that statement you want to post”

She got up slowly, looking at Fred and clenching her jaw. I got up with a jump, looking at her with worry in my eyes.

“You were like a father figure for me in this team, Fred” she mumbled. “But the moment you showed me your back after the Monza incident, I felt betrayed”

I stepped towards her, gently taking her hand in mine, our fingers intertwining as a silent promise that we'd face whatever came next together.

“I hope next season goes like you want it to go” she mumbled. “With a champion on your team. And I'm not talking about Lewis. Soon you'll regret making that move”

I looked at her, feeling so many things. I was proud of her, because she stood up against Fred alone, like she always did whenever something bad happened, even if she hates confronting problems. But at the same time I felt so sad, because I knew she was facing how her dream slipped through her fingers, giving up on it because of a mistake we made, no matter if we now accept it and love it.

“And I hope this new step in your life goes smoothly” he sighed, smiling weakly. “Congratulations, if I can say it”

“Thank you” she nodded, placing her hand on her belly.

I saw Fred smiling weakly, looking at her belly. I wonder if he regrets things he said or did. I wonder if he, somehow, feels bad for not reaching for her during all this time assuming she was only running away. I wonder if he's happy for us.

“I always thought you two would make a beautiful couple” he sighed. “It was too sad watching you fight, you two were clearly so oblivious. But really I'm glad you two are together”

We nodded, looking at him for one last time before walking out of the office.

I felt her tension, her anger, her stress. I tried to calm her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, but she stayed quiet until we got in the car.

“What the hell was that?” she groaned. “Lewis? Really? Oh my God, he really made a greedy move!”

I took a deep breath and sighed. I knew about that. If course I did. I caught him making a phone call with him, talking about replacing Dafne.

“I gave everything to this team, and that's how they thank me?” she scoffed. “They didn't reach for me! He could have called me, I had my phone!”

“He never did?” I frowned. 

“No” she groaned.

“Fuck…” I sighed. “He told me he did. That he tried to call you and you never answered”

“Well, that was a cheap lie, then” she laughed bitterly. 

“You… Do you want to say everything?” I sighed, holding her hand. “You want to tell them about Ferrari?”

She took a deep breath and bit her lip, looking out of the car at the red factory, her eyes fixed on the horse of the logo.

Her dream, the red team was always her dream. I remember how she always dressed in red when we were kids. How everything she had when she was little was red: her notebooks, her backpack, her water bottle. She always painted her nails with red nail polish, and always wore red lipstick. 

“Everyone will hate me, right?” she mumbled. “The team, they would feel so betrayed if I do that…”

I took a deep breath and nodded. I know she won't do something that would give her problems.

“I don't want them to hate me” she whispered. “I don't want them to hate me, to talk bad about me when I go to support you on the races…”

“Y-you would come to my races?” I said, surprised. 

“Of course, Charles” she smiled sweetly, holding my hand. 

I smile weakly and bring her hand to my lips, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles while looking into her eyes.

"I'll make you proud," I whispered, my voice thick with determination. "For you and our baby. I promise, I'll make every moment count."

“I know” she smiled. “You are my champion, you'll fight for me, I know it”

I smile softly and place my hand on her neck, leaning closer to her and kissing her lips softly, just how lovers do.

dafnemorelli

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 1.579.575 others

dafnemorelli Once upon a time, two kids met in Greece. They didn't know it yet, but they were meant to be together, no matter how many times they started a war. They enjoyed each other's company and fell in love, slowly. How innocent.

Years went by and those kids turned into adults. Adults make mistakes and focus on what matters for themselves, sometimes forget the inner child that only wants to have fun and love their loved ones with pure innocence. 

Charles and I were each other's first love. None of you know our true story, but we are here to share it.

We met in Greece when we were kids, and I found something that at that age I thought was love. He understood me and I understood him. But because kids are stubborn, something happened and we broke our friendship, turning it into a childish rivalry.

Now, as adults, we made so many mistakes, started so many fights. And we are tired of it. We got tired of it. So we took the bandage out of our eyes and found again those kids that loved to be together. 

Charles and I want to apologize for everything we did. All the fights that caused problems for the team and for the Tifosi. We want to apologize because we are learning to love each other again.

I want to announce that Charles and I are going to be parents. Our baby and I are healthy, I found out I was pregnant the same day I had the crash in Abu Dhabi. 

And with this pregnancy comes sad news, too.

I want to announce my retirement from Formula 1. I want to focus on this new journey, starting a family with my childhood lover.

I'll see you soon, I promise.

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc Can't wait to start this new journey with you❤️ 

maxverstappen1 really happy for you two

pierregasly I'll be the favorite uncle

oscarpiastri Why are you so sure?  pierregasly Because I'm cool landonorris Everyone knows that the cool uncles will be me and Violet violetsinclair Baby Morelli-Leclerc will be loved, for sure

charles_leclerc 

liked by dafnemorelli, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1.572.371 others

charles_leclerc Dear six year old me:

We have her back. We fought so many times with her, but we never gave up. We might make a lot of mistakes, but like people always say: love always wins.

We are now going to have a kid together, just how you dreamed when you first saw her. I still remember those thoughts you had when you saw her with her little sister. 

Dear Dafne, I really can't wait to see our baby. I really can't wait to show how grateful I am. I can't wait to be next to you in this new journey.

comments on this post have been limited

maxverstappen1 Max is a good name, isn't it? And if it's a girl it can me Maxine (internet says it means greatest)

alex_albon  Alex is a good name too, you can use it with a girl and a boy  violetsinclair stop being ridiculous, there are better names landonorris Thank you babe, I know Lando is a good name violetsinclair what? No? I was talking about fictional names… -dafnemorelli violetsinclair Manon or Dorian sounds good? violetsinclair oh pls yes.

carlossainz55 Can't wait to meet baby Morelli-Leclerc

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@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @caterinemirandax_ @mid5nights @harrysdimple05

[ham-st4r]

𝑼𝒏𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 - 𝑳. 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈

❦PAIRING: heeseung + female reader!❦

❦WARNINGS: mentions of intimacy, angst, taboo relationship, small age gap, child abuse, cheating, (not reader) mentions of illegal racing & weed smoking, kissing, alcohol, selling drugs, divorce, violence, blood, injuries, cursing, crying (not as intense as it sounds but I did want to make sure I added all the warnings)

❦GENRE: step-mom reader, stepson heeseung, dysfunctional family, slow burn.

❦SUMMARY: in which you move in with your husband after your wedding, everything is perfect except for one thing, no matter what, you can't seem to get close to his son. Even after a year of knowing each other, you hadn't even spoken ten words until his 21st birthday rolled around, and funny enough he was the surprising you.

❦NUMBER OF WORDS: 14,364k

Find your way around!

Hello, this is my longest fic so far, so I hope it's okay. Please leave feedback and reblog! thanks so much, happy reading.

It had already been two months since you moved in with your husband, and things couldn't have been better. He gave you a key to the house and even bought a car for you as a welcoming gift which you thought was over the top, but he assured you that it was more than okay and that you deserved it, which made you fall for him even more if that was possible.

In the beginning, your parents weren't too fond of you marrying an older man when you were still in your late 20's it took a while to convince them, but he really made you happy, and when you introduced him to your parents over dinner, and they saw how radiant you were when you were with him they gave you their blessing, and you couldn't have been happier.

There was just one tiny little problem.

More like a big problem.

No matter what you did, his son heeseung wouldn't even spare you a glance, not when you first met, not at the wedding, and not since the day you moved in, absolutely nothing.

You knew it was probably hard for him to go through all this, especially as a twenty-year-old getting used to having a mom or (stepmom) all over again, but you've been in his life for about a year now, and he still hasn't warmed up to you yet.

"I don't think he likes me," you sighed as you cuddled up next to your husband on the couch in the living room.

He wrapped his arms around you to comfort you. "Don't worry, honey. I'm sure he'll come around soon. He's just adjusting to the new house and everything," he reassures you.

"I hope so." You said with a sad smile.

That conversation happened last month, and he still hasn't made any effort to communicate with you.

You've tried various things to get his attention, like taking him shopping or making his favorite foods. Nothing worked, but his twenty-first birthday was right around the corner, and you were going to try to use the special day as a way to get closer and bond with him.

You noted that he enjoyed listening to music like a lot, so you had bought him the airpod max hoping he enjoyed them.

You could only hope he didn't think you were trying to buy his affection cause you really weren't. You just wanted to get to know your son.

And speaking of your son, he didn't tell you where he was off to when he left earlier this morning, and when you asked him, he just slammed the door in your face without saying goodbye, which wasn’t surprising to you anymore.

You initially called your husband, but he didn't pick up the phone, which also wasn’t surprising anymore. You figured he was just working overtime like he often does.

But luckily for you, he had given you heeseung's phone number in case of emergencies, and to you, this was an emergency he left in the morning, and it was now midnight with no word from him, so naturally, you were worried about him.

Thankfully your worried heart was put to ease when he answered on the first ring, and you breathed a sigh of relief. "What?" His tone was cold and harsh, just like it had always been, but right now, you didn't care. You were just happy he answered.

"Are you okay? Where are you? What time are you coming home?" You said in a worrisome tone.

You could hear him sigh on the other end. "I'll be back soon" you could barely hear him from all the loud noise in the background.

"Okay, I'll heat up dinner for you when you arrive. Drive saf-" your shoulders slumped down in defeat when he abruptly ended the call.

Another hour had passed, and you began to worry again, but the keys jingling outside the door made you jump to your feet excitedly. At least one of your boys was finally home.

"Hey!" You greeted. "I'll go get you something to eat. I'm sure you're starving" Heeseung didn't even pay you any attention. Instead, he took his shoes off at the door and made his way upstairs to his room.

You could only watch him with a frown on your face once he was out of sight. You could have sworn you smelled the scent of weed coming off him, and you furrowed your brows. You didn't know he smoked, which made you wonder if your husband knew you made a mental note to ask him when he came home from work later on.

Which was apparently not going to be tonight, it was already two in the morning, and you fought to keep your eyes open so you could greet him when he came back, but as the clock struck 2:02 am, you found yourself shuffling off to your shared bedroom drifting off to sleep just minutes later.

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, and you assumed you had overslept and hubby was already at work. However, when you turned to face the clock, it was ten in the morning. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, double-checking the time, and your eyes were correct. Maybe he worked all night or had to take the early shift. You'd just have to call him and figure it out later.

You got up and stretched for a while before going to the bathroom to wash up a bit.

Once you finished and went downstairs, you were pleasantly surprised to see heeseung dining at the table. "Morning," you greeted him with your croaky morning voice and a gentle smile as you made yourself a cup of coffee.

He didn't say anything, but that was to be expected. He never talked to you during breakfast. Since you moved in, you never had dinner as a family. It has always just been you and your husband occasionally while heeseung stayed in his room doing god knows what or you and heeseung sitting in absolute silence.

Once your coffee was ready, you joined him and quietly sipped your hot beverage. "I was really worried about you last night," you confess. You didn't want him to get up and leave when you tried to talk to him, but you wanted to express that you cared, and if that made him upset, you were willing to take that chance.

He looked at you briefly and took a spoonful of his cereal.

You took that as a sign to continue. "You don't have to tell me anything, but please just be home sooner than midnight," you spoke softly, just barely above a whisper, so you wouldn't scare him away.

He only gave you a small nod, but that was enough for a smile to spread across your face since he had finally acknowledged your presence.

You and him continued to have breakfast in comfortable silence until the front door opened and startled you slightly. "I'm home~" your husband sang as he stepped inside and took off his shoes.

You got up from your chair and ran over to him excitedly, wrapping your arms around his back and giving him a peck on the lips. "I missed you," you pouted, and he poked your cheek with a smile on his face.

"I missed you more" you grabbed his warm hand and led him to the kitchen table.

"We were just having breakfast. Would you like me to cook you something?" Before he could respond, heeseung had stood up and washed his unfinished cereal down the drain, and took off to his room.

You looked at your husband with sad eyes and sat on one of the kitchen chairs. "Why the sad face honey?" he stroked your cheek with his thumb lightly, and you leaned into his warm touch. "Hey, look at me" he tilted your head up slightly, staring at your beautiful eyes. "You had breakfast together again. That's a win, right?"

You’ve been having breakfast with heeseung since you moved in, and nothing has changed. It didn’t help you get closer with him, but you tried to stay positive, and you supposed your husband was right.

"Right" you got up from your seat and kissed his cheek. "I'll make some pancakes. How does that sound?"

"That sounds lovely." He agreed and gave you that beautiful smile of his.

"I don't want to kill the mood," you mumbled as you cut into your fresh plate of pancakes. "But last night when heeseung came home, he reeked of weed" you bit your bottom lip nervously as you awaited his reaction.

He just chuckled in response. "Honey, he's been like that for years. Don't worry about it." He dismissed.

"Has he been coming home past midnight for years too?" You hadn't noticed this behavior until last night. Usually, you were in bed by ten, but since you stayed up late waiting for your husband to come home, you were up late enough to encounter this apparent habit of heeseungs.

He dropped his fork and grabbed your hand. "Yes, ever since the divorce," he sighed. "He's just been very troubled. I've tried to talk to him about it, but he shuts me out all the time."

You wonder how bad the divorce must’ve been for heeseung to act this way. Your husband always said it was the past and that he didn’t want to talk about it, and you respected those boundaries, but you were still curious.

"Maybe I should talk to him," you suggested. After all, maybe it was the lack of a mother in his life that made him act this way. Maybe you could be there for him in a way his father couldn't.

He let go of your hand and clenched his jaw. "I told you I've already tried."

"But maybe I could try a different approach" you were adamant about the idea cause if heeseung was struggling. Naturally, you wanted to help him.

"Fine," he threw up his hands. "You'll just be wasting your time" your brows creased in confusion at his response. He had never acted this way before when you and him talked about heeseung's behavior, but before you thought too deeply about it, you assumed he was just tired and let the conversation go for now.

He abruptly stood up from the table and went to the bedroom, leaving you alone with three plates of unfinished food.

Heeseung had just come downstairs, and he looked like he was going out. Judging by the clothes he had on, he glanced at you, and you tried to hide your hurt expression by giving him a weak smile.

He eyed the table noticing there was a plate in front of his chair where he usually sat, and it was untouched.

He checked the time, and he supposed he could spare a minute or two. He rejoined you at the table, devouring your pancakes like it was his last meal on earth.

You smiled slightly as you watched him eat in silence. "Aren't you going to eat?" He mumbles after taking a sip of water.

You nearly jumped in surprise when he spoke to you, but you quickly composed yourself. "Yes," you whispered and resumed eating your pancakes, and even though they were cold, you ate every last bite with a smile, cherishing this rare moment with him.

Once he finished, he took his dishes to the sink and washed them along with the bowl he had left from earlier.

“Bye, heeseung” you gave him a tiny wave from the kitchen that he didn’t bother to return.

He put his shoes on at the door, and without another word, he was gone.

But at least there was progress, or so you thought.

You're sure that someone would have probably thought you were crazy with just how many decorations you had bought for your son's birthday, but hey, it was your first time celebrating the special day with him, and well, you wanted it to be special.

Unfortunately, earlier in the morning, when you were getting ready to go shopping, your husband informed you he wouldn't be home which totally ruined your whole entire mood. It seemed like everything went against you when it came to getting together as an actual family. If heeseung wasn't abruptly walking out of the room every time his dad entered, then his dad would be leaving for work nothing seemed to be working out for you.

"Can't you just call in? just this one time?" You all but begged him to stay home for Heeseung's birthday.

"No, I can't," he said flatly as he put on his dress coat. "He'll be fine. I always miss his birthday, whether it’s a business trip or for work, and besides, he's got you now" he turned around and flashed you a quick smile.

"Yeah," you mutter sadly while he kisses your cheek and waves goodbye to you.

You sighed at the earlier memory, but you weren't going to let it get your spirits down, especially when heeseung’s room was now decorated from head to toe. You smiled to yourself at the finished product taking a picture and sending it to your husband since he couldn't be there.

Now all that was left to do was wait for the birthday boy.

Heeseung trudged up the stone path to his house, sighing loudly when he saw the empty parking lot, which was a sign that his dad wasn't home.

"Seven years in a row," he mumbled sadly as tears welled in his eyes. He's not sure why he even still cared if his dad celebrated his birthday with him or not.

You'd think after seven years of hating his dad, he'd be over it by now, but he wasn't.

He remembers all those years ago when his mother did her best to make him feel loved going as far as inviting all his friends over to celebrate his birthday, but no matter how many people showed up, nothing could replace the absence of his father, not even the outrageous amount of gifts he received could replace that relationship he so desperately wanted with his dad.

Heeseung doesn't even know when it all started. All he knew was one day, he was a small child enjoying picnics at the park every Sunday after church, and the next moment he was a young teen, and his mom had turned into an alcoholic once she found out her husband was cheating on her, and just like that, everything fell to pieces and the perfect family was ruined all because of his piece of shit father.

Unfortunately, since heeseung was so young back then, he didn't have a choice in who he wanted to take custody of him after the divorce, and sadly there was no chance of him living with his mom. She didn't have enough money and a stable home for him to even stay in, so naturally, he was stuck with his father for the time being.

But now that he's a full-grown adult, he could make his own decisions about where he wanted to live, but stupidly enough, he was waiting and hoping that his father would change and that he would somehow care about him the way he used to but after two years of hoping heeseung had given up and decided to take his life into his own hands.

Which was probably not the best choice, but he needed money to move sooner than later, and a nine-to-five just wasn't going to cut it, especially cause he was secretly helping his mom get by cause, of course, his mother’s well being was no concern of his fathers, So naturally heeseung had resorted to the quickest way to make loads of money by selling drugs, betting, and racing illegally. It wasn't safe, but it was a safe bet to get him where he needed to be, and that was out from under the roof of his heartless father.

Especially right now, he's never wanted to leave so bad the fact that his dad had the fucking audacity to remarry was baffling to heeseung. He had the perfect wife, and he fucked it up for some random woman that he'd never see again, and that angered heeseung to the point that he couldn't even fathom he couldn't believe that his precious mother was brought down and reduced to absolutely nothing at the hands of his own father the thought made him feel sick.

And now that his father was doing the same thing with you made him feel even more sick. He never saw you as his mother. That’s for sure no one could ever replace her, not in a million years, but he could tell you were a good girl, and you were trying, which he appreciated. Even though he didn't show it, and even so, you still did your best and put up with his attitude to bring the family together, and you just had this glow that could change the whole atmosphere from dull and uninteresting to happy and cheerful, something his father didn't deserve he doesn't deserve your kindness because even after he fucked up with his first wife he didn't learn from his mistakes cause he was still going out behind your back every single night.

Heeseung wanted to tell you so badly about his dad’s unholy doings, but he didn't know if that was his secret to tell, so he stayed quiet. But right now, he didn't really care about respecting his father's privacy anymore cause not only was he cheating on his own son's birthday, but he was also out cheating behind your back, just like the old days.

You didn't deserve such treatment in heeseung's eyes. You deserved a real man, someone who could appreciate you for all your efforts and hard work, someone who could be there for you instead of leaving you home alone for ten hours a day, someone who could love you the right way.

God.

Heeseung feels so terrible for even thinking about you like that, but fuck, it was impossible for him not to. You were the perfect wife. Quite literally, everything about you was ideal for him.

He could see himself in his father's position so easily coming home from work to be greeted by you with warm hugs and kisses and a hot meal waiting for him on the table.

Except with him, it would be so different. He would answer all your calls, he would never come home late without telling you first, he'd give you massages when you were tired, and he would appreciate you for every little thing that you do.

Cause that's what you deserved, not a pathetic excuse for a man like his father.

As he got closer and closer to the door typing in the security code, he hadn't realized it yet, but his tears had subsided, and maybe that's all it took was for his dad to miss his birthday one last time cause as he took his shoes off at the front door he didn't have that heavy feeling in his gut anymore if anything it felt like a weight had been lifted and he could finally let go.

This felt like the last time his dad had to prove himself, and when heeseung came home to an empty parking lot, he accepted the fact that his father would never care about him the same way again, and as much as that hurt him in the beginning, it also felt like a relief cause now he didn't have to hang onto any false hope how could he when his own father gave him absolutely nothing to hang onto.

He was finally free, and he accepted his fucked up reality for what it was, something he wished he would have done years ago.

But, at least he can say he tried cause he really fucking did, no matter how painful it had been.

The house was oddly quiet normally. You would have been running down the stairs to greet him, but you were nowhere in sight, which made him frown.

He'd never ever ever ever admit to you that he liked it when you greeted him, that he liked it when you cooked his favorite dishes and liked how you worried about him and his safety when he was out late.

Cause god knows he loves all those things about you. Sometimes he'd leave the house just to hear you say bye, and he knows that sounds pathetic, but it's true.

He hated that he couldn't reciprocate your cheerful attitude. He wanted to so bad, and he almost slipped up so many times, but he was afraid that once that happened, there would be no going back. He was already basically in love with you at this point, and if he had to engage with you every day in a friendly manner, he'd be a goner, so instead, he gave you the cold shoulder and acted harshly towards you and it hurt him to know that he was hurting you, but if he ever acted on his desires for you he knows he'd ruin the family just like his father did, and he never wanted to be like his father ever.

He quietly made his way to the kitchen keeping his noise to a minimum, assuming you must have been tired and had gone to sleep early.

He decided to eat one of the apples you had bought from the market the other day. You had been talking about how good they were, and he remembered the sad look on your face when his stupid ugly, nasty father rejected them, saying. "I OnLy eaT oRgaNic fRuiT."

Oh, how heeseung wished he could have stuffed all those apples down his dad's throat at that very moment.

As heeseung bit into the apple, a smile unknowingly spread across his face. You were right. They were delicious, or maybe it was just cause you bought them, who really knows, but he enjoyed every last bite of it before throwing the core into the trash barrel and jogging upstairs to wash up for bed, not knowing that he was about to nearly have a heart attack after he opened his door.

"Surprise!" You popped out from hiding behind his door and held a cake with two big candles reading twenty-one on it. "Happy birthday, heeseung!" You smiled brightly.

His eyes went as wide as saucers as they scanned all the decorations. There were white, green, and purple balloons decorating his ceiling, and on the cake was his favorite cartoon character, buzz light year.

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't treat you harshly anymore, not after something like this. How could he?

This was far more than anything he could ever ask for, and he couldn't help but tear up. How did you know he loved Toy Story? His dad didn't even know that, not that that's saying much, but still, he couldn't believe that someone actually paid enough attention to him to even notice.

His silence was making you nervous, but before you could start overthinking, he quickly blew out the candles and set the cake on his nightstand, pulling you into one of the tightest hugs you've ever felt.

"Thank you, y/n, thank you so much," he cried on your shoulder, and you were shocked. You were not expecting this type of reaction from him, but you thoroughly enjoyed it and quickly hugged him back.

"You're welcome, birthday boy" you ruffled his hair, and it was difficult for you not to cry as well. Your son was finally hugging you for the first time since you met.

You rubbed his back gently as his cries started to die down a bit, and he pulled away from the hug, looking at you with teary eyes. It took everything in him not to kiss you right now, and he's thankful that you broke eye contact with him first. Otherwise, he probably would have done something really stupid. "Come on, let's open your presents" you wiped the tears off his cheeks, and he smiled before closing his door and joining you on his bed. "Okay, first one," you handed him the box excitedly. It was a Ferrari Lego set wrapped in Toy Story themed paper.

He didn't want to ruin your beautiful wrapping, but he couldn't contain his excitement as he ripped the paper off, gasping when he saw what was in his hands. "You didn't have to. How did you know?" You giggled at his reaction and nudged his shoulder playfully.

"Mothers know these kinds of things" he froze when you said that, being reminded of what this actually was a mother and son celebrating a birthday. He realized he was painting a different picture of what was actually happening inside his head, a more romantic one, so he calmed down his excitement while silently reminding himself that you only thought of him as your stepson, nothing more, nothing less. "Besides, your whole room is full of legos" you pointed to his shelf with all his little figurines, and he smiled at that, happy that at least someone paid attention to him.

"Thank you!" you felt saddened that he still hadn't called you mom yet, but your husband was right. It's the small wins that count. Heeseung would come around soon enough, you thought, especially after tonight.

"Okay, next!" You handed him another big box, and you couldn't wait for his reaction to this one.

"What did you get me?" He asked with a teasing smile. Honestly, being like this in front of you was easy for him. He felt light whenever you were around. Everything was just so carefree and comfortable. That's one of the many things he loved about you. Even if you two never spoke properly before, this felt natural, and he knew it did for you, too. He knows all the effort you put in to get closer to him, so he knew this meant a lot to you too, and he was grateful cause that let him know you cared and you didn't just give up on him like his parents did no matter how many times he treated you rough you were always patient with him which made him wonder how his worthless dad was lucky enough to get a girl as perfect as you.

"Open it and see" your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but you were just so happy that he was finally opening up to you and letting you in. It made you feel so much joy that he trusted you to show you his real emotions. This moment meant the world to you, and you'd definitely never forget it.

"No way!" He stared at you in shock. "You're freaking crazy," he said, getting choked up as he examined the headphones.

You're not sure if he was crying cause of the present or the fact that he was finally celebrating this day with someone after so long, but it didn't matter to you as long as he was happy. "Do you like it?" You side-hug him and lean on his shoulder.

"Of course, y/n," he sniffles. "I love it" you leaned up, watching the smile that never left his face until he turned to look you dead in the eyes. "I love you" he used the opportunity to slip those words in just to let you know he knew you'd think of it in a mother-son way, but he didn't care as long as he got to tell you before he left.

Those words nearly brought tears to your eyes. That was even better than him calling you mom. You smiled brightly. You were so happy, and you couldn’t wait to tell your husband the news.

"I love you too" you quickly pecked his cheek as you stood up from his bed to grab the cake. "How about some cake?" He looked at you and nodded. "Come on," you said in a whisper and gestured downstairs.

"Can we eat it here?" He asks sheepishly, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was turning five and not twenty-one from his childish request, but who were you to say no to eating cake in bed?

He sat back on his bed and tucked his feet under him while the bed dipped down next to him from your weight. He swiped his finger along the cake, gathering some frosting and licking it off his finger. "Good?" You ask, laughing at the way he decided to eat it without a fork.

"Yeah," he mutters shyly as you do the same, tasting the sweet frosting and humming at its delicious taste nodding in agreement with him.

You both ate the chocolate cake until there was barely anything left, and he sat it back down on his nightstand before he joined you on the bed again.

"You don't know how much this means to me," he whispered and trailed off while playing with his fingers nervously.

He looked like he wanted to say more, so you waited patiently for him to continue like you always had.

"This was the best birthday ever," he breathed out and looked at you with an unreadable expression.

"I'm so happy to hear that" you smiled genuinely at him and gently patted his shoulder.

Before you could even register what was happening, he was leaning in and kissing you.

It was if time had stopped.

You were paralyzed when you felt his lips on yours. You couldn't react from your state of shock as your eyes widened. He continued kissing you, tilting his head slightly and brushing his lips over yours.

When he placed his hand on your knee, you finally were able to react to the situation, and you pushed him back roughly by his shoulders. "What the hell are you doing?" You wiped his saliva off your mouth and stood up, distancing yourself away from him as you caught your breath.

He immediately hung his head low, knowing that he had messed up big time. You could hear him sniffling lightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered as his voice cracked. "Y/n, I didn't mean to." He looked at you with tears now trickling down his face. "I-I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry" he got off his bed and reached for you, but you backed away from him further, and his heart ached when he saw the pure look of utter disgust on your face.

Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your chest from how fast it was beating. You had no idea what to even think. Your mind was blank as you rushed out of his bedroom and into yours, locking the door behind you just in case he tried to follow you.

You curled up in bed and let the silence take over, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened.

As you were lost in thought, you heard a few soft knocks on the door, and you jumped slightly. "Y/n, please don't be mad at me," he pleaded softly, and you could hear the hurt in his tone. "Please…” he whispered shakily, and you heard a soft thud on the door when he rested his forehead against it.

For the next three minutes or so, you could hear him quietly sobbing outside your door, and you were torn on what to do. Your stepson had just kissed you out of the clear blue.

You didn't know if you should talk to him about it or not. Maybe he had been smoking and just made a mistake, but you can’t remember smelling any smoke.

You ruffled your hair in frustration and did the first thing that came to your mind.

You tried phoning your husband. Maybe he could give you some answers.

You just sighed when you heard the dial tone.

Of course, he didn't answer like usual it annoyed you that he could never answer his phone because of work. You knew he was more than likely in a meeting, and he couldn't be disturbed, but every time you needed him, he was never there. You knew that’s what you were getting into when you married such a busy man, but that didn’t make it any less upsetting.

You tossed your phone to the side and sighed loudly. You could still hear heeseung’s faint sniffles from behind the door.

"I know there’s no excuse for what I did, but for what it's worth, you made this birthday the best one yet" he dragged his index finger down the length of the door. "G-goodnight, y/n" he walked back to his room and lied on his bed, feeling absolutely terrible about himself. Not only did he kiss you without permission, but he also kissed a married woman. "What was I thinking?" He mumbled quietly into his pillow.

He knew exactly what he was thinking, and he let his emotions get the best of him, but it was so hard to control it when you looked at him so fondly. How could he not get emotional when you had set up all those things just for his birthday? How could he not get emotional when you remembered the things that he liked?

It's been almost a decade since he felt those types of emotions, and he wasn't ready to feel those things again, especially not with you, especially when he couldn't control his feelings for you.

All those thoughts, feelings, and emotions came over him so fast that he didn’t have time to second guess his actions, but as soon as his lips were no longer on yours, he realized that he had made an irreversible mistake.

The last thing he saw before he cried himself to sleep was his leftover cake on the nightstand.

You woke up in the morning, and unfortunately, the first thought that came to mind was last night. You frustratedly massage at your temples, trying to rub out the headache while looking at the alarm clock that read 8:27am.

You turned to your husband and wrapped your arms around him, hoping to seek some comfort from him after what happened last night, but he rolled on his side after mumbling something about it being too hot as he scooted away from you.

That was another thing that has been troubling you lately. Maybe you were blowing things out of proportion from all the stress you had been carrying with you recently, but he seemed so standoffish lately he'd barely kiss you unless it was before he left to work, and god forbid you mentioned your worries about heeseung to him, he'd just blow you off, and tell you that heeseung was an adult that could do what he wanted.

But the worse part was you couldn't remember the last time he took you on a date or the last time he made love to you, and getting married only seemed to create distance between you both, and you hated it. You felt so alone being cooped up in the house all day. Sure, you'd go shopping sometimes, but that only took your mind off of things for a little while.

And heeseung never talked to you, so that made you feel even more alone, and after last night everything kind of just hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt more isolated than you ever have, and you had no one to talk to. You moved far from your parents, and the time zones were completely different. You hadn't contacted your friends in years, and now it was just you all alone by yourself to figure out what you should do after your stepson thought it would be okay to kiss you, and your husband was practically ignoring your needs as his wife.

This whole time you've been so worried about getting the mother approval stamp from heeseung that you barely even had time to focus on your life with your husband, and now that you realized that, it felt awful. 

"What do I do?" You whisper as tears well in your eyes, sobbing quietly so you wouldn’t wake your sleeping husband.

For the whole day, heeseung didn't even think about leaving his room. He just couldn't face you after what he did last night.

Remembering the look on your face was enough to have him curled up in bed until midnight.

Once he saw all the lights were shut off, that's when he decided to leave. He made his way to the door, and he almost shirked when he saw you lying on the sofa all by yourself.

He tiptoed to the door, praying you wouldn't wake up, and to his luck, you didn't. He hastily put his shoes on and haphazardly wore his jacket and went to his secret racing spot.

You stirred in your sleep. Once you heard the door shut, you must have passed out while watching tv again. "Babe?" You called out, but you got no answer. You turned the tv off and went to your bedroom to see your husband fast asleep. "He didn't wake me up?" You mumbled you were once again waiting for him to come home from work, but you fell asleep, and he didn't even think to wake you up before going to bed.

Which reminds you, if he wasn't the one leaving, then that must have meant it was heeseung, and it was past midnight since your talk with him over breakfast. He seemed to understand your concern for him being out so late and made it a point to come home no later than ten.

So why was he leaving past midnight again?

You wanted to call him and tell him to bring his butt home, but after last night you're not sure where he stood with you or where you stood with him, to be honest.

Heeseung didn't want to leave past midnight and make you worry, but after what happened the night of his birthday, he figured you didn't care about him coming or going cause he made you mad, and he hated knowing that he ruined the little relationship you had both formed just as quickly as it happened.

But if he looked on the bright side, at least now, you probably hated him and wouldn't try to get close to him anymore, so that was a good thing. Maybe that would help him suppress his feelings for you, and besides, he'd be leaving soon anyway, so how you felt about him didn't really matter.

He was going to use the money he made from his nightly races and drug deals to move out. He now had more than enough to afford his own place and live alone comfortably.

Of course, his dad wanted him out a lot sooner and would be more than happy to buy heeseung his own house to get him out of his hair, but heeseung didn't want anything to do with his father once he was gone. 

Everything that happened in this house he wanted to be a thing of the past, even if that included you.

Sure, it was a cop-out move to just avoid what happened that night, but in his mind, there wasn't a need to address that situation again. He fucked up, and that was the end of it.

That wasn't the only reason he wanted to move though his dad played the bigger role in that, and now after that incident with you, it was fuel for him to leave even sooner than he had originally planned.

He closed his eyes as a few tears rolled down his cheek, and the crowd roared his name as he revved his engine.

And as soon as the two black and white checkered flags were raised, he pressed his foot on the gas, going full speed ahead, pushing all his worries down just like his gas peddle, even though he knew they would all surface again and haunt him once he reached the finish line.

Of course, you couldn't get any sleep cause heeseung was still out, and it was now three in the morning, not to say you would have been able to get any sleep with your husband snoring loudly next to you anyways.

You quietly got out of bed and put your robe on. You walked downstairs and poured yourself a glass of wine, sitting on the sofa, waiting for heeseung to come home.

It wasn't long before the door was creaking open, and you heard the familiar jingle of heeseung’s keys.

He turned around and twisted the knob so he could shut the door silently.

You cleared your throat, and he nearly jumped out of his shoes as he slowly turned around with a grimace on his face. "Mind telling me what you've been up to?" You traced the rim of your now empty glass as you crossed your leg over the other.

"S-s-sorry, I won't do it a-again," he mumbled as he hung his head low and kicked his shoes off at the door.

"What exactly is it that you won’t be doing again?" You asked and slowly held the cup to your lips, taking a small sip of the alcoholic drink.

He gulped nervously from your stern tone. "Just hanging out late with some friends," he lied. He didn't have any friends, not since his parents divorced.

You hum and nod your head. "Do these friends happen to smoke?" You questioned.

How the hell did you know that? "Yes," there was no point in lying. He wouldn't want to make you more upset.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. "What did I tell you about being out past midnight?"

"I know, and I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I didn't think you'd care" he bit his lip nervously.

"Why wouldn't I care? You're my son," his expression hardened at your words.

"Please stop saying that," he whispered shakily.

"What's wrong? I know I'm not your biological mother, but I'm trying here" you pushed down the lump in your throat and ignored the ache in your heart as he said those words to you.

"You just don't get it, do you? That's just the thing, you're not my mom, and I'll never see you as my mom" he clenched his jaw in annoyance.

Now you couldn't even pretend that didn't hurt like hell that's all you ever wanted was for him to call you mom but the way those words fell from his mouth so carelessly broke your heart. "W-what did you say?" Your voice now matched him with a shakiness that made him instantly regret what he said.

He came closer to you, wrapping your frail body in his arms. The smell of smoke invaded your senses as you inhaled sharply. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant," he whispered as your shoulders shook in his hold. "You know what, screw it" he pulled back and stared into your eyes intensely. "I'll never see you as my mom because," he took a deep breath before continuing. "Because I like you" his bottom lip quivered, and you could feel his body shaking slightly. "I know it's wrong, and I swear I tried not to, b-but I just couldn't help it, and on my birthday, I just couldn't control how I felt. It's the first time someone has shown me any type of affection in years, and I-"

You cut him off. This was nonsense. He was speaking. There's no way that's how he truly felt. "You never even talked to me before then" you pulled away from the hug and waited for him to explain.

"I know," he whined out. "But that's why I didn't want to get close to you 'cause this whole time I've had…" he trailed off, but you got the point. "And on my birthday, you just" he looked down at his feet, embarrassed and ashamed to even be telling you this. "You made me feel special, and I haven't felt that in a long time." He whispered.

You looked at him with a million questions swirling around in your mind, but you asked the burning one. "What about your father? He's great to you. Surely he makes you feel special" you tried to make sense of what heeseung was saying, but you couldn't wrap your head around it, and getting angry wouldn’t help, so you spoke calmly while hoping to get some answers.

He just scoffed at your words and shoved his hands into his pockets. "He didn't even wish me a happy birthday." He poked his inner cheek with his tongue.

A look of shock overtook your features. Of course, you knew your husband wasn't going to be there on his son's special day, but not buying him a gift and not sending him a text was outrageous. "Maybe he was just too busy," you reasoned. There's no way he would not have sent his own son a happy birthday text unless he was busy.

"For the last seven years? I don't think anyone is that busy" he rolled his eyes. "It's obvious what's important to him, and I'm not."

"Don't talk about your father that way. He's a great man and a great husband, and you're just being ungrateful right now. He's working himself to death to take care of us both," heeseung just gave you a sad smile.

If you had any idea.

"If you say so," he wasn't going to argue with you about this. He was afraid he would slip up and spill his dad's secrets, and that would make everything so much worse than it already was.

"Just go to your room, and you're not going out tomorrow." You concluded that was all that needed to be discussed right now.

Without another word, he quietly went to his room and left you stressed out on the couch with so many unanswered questions.

"Honey will you call that deadbeat son of ours from his room," your husband joked as he sat at the table.

You just chuckled at his statement, knowing he meant no harm, and went to get heeseung from his room.

You knocked a few times and waited for him to answer. He cracked the door open just a sliver, and you saw his eyes widen slightly. "Yes?" He whispered.

You hated how he almost seemed scared of you after everything, but right now, there was nothing that you could think of to fix this situation between you and him, so you’d just have to be awkward around each other for the time being.

"Dinners ready, and your father wants you to sit with us," you informed him in a soft tone hoping that would help unnerve him, but it didn't seem to work.

"Ok," he said quietly and opened the door, fully exiting his room and coming downstairs with you.

"There he is! Finally decided to crawl out of that den of yours," heeseung sighed while sitting at the table. He knew this was going to be absolute torture. He was only doing it cause he knew you wanted to. "So your mother told me you've been smoking, is that true?"

You gasped in shock. This was not how you wanted him to bring this up. Tonight was just supposed to be a simple, peaceful dinner, nothing more, nothing less.

You shook your head and signaled for your husband to stop, and heeseung looked at you with a tinge of hurt on his face. Not believing the fact that you had told his secret.

Apparently, your husband didn't get the memo. "So are you going to answer, or do I have to beat it out of ya" his father joked, but neither you nor heeseung was laughing.

You smiled awkwardly and took a sip of your lemonade, staying quiet.

"What does it matter?" Heeseung responded harshly.

"To be honest, I don't care what you do, but your mother here is worried about you," he said while cutting into his steak.

"Babe," you scolded him for his choice of words. You knew he was just frustrated and didn't mean them, but you still acknowledged how inappropriate that was to say. "Sorry he's been drinking," you murmured to heeseung, but he knew even if his dad wasn't drinking, he would still say those hurtful words to him without thinking twice about it.

"There's nothing to worry about" heeseung dismissed the topic from going any further.

"See honey? I told you it's fine" you just sat there uncomfortably for the rest of the dinner. Maybe it was just you, but he didn't seem to care about his own son's reckless behavior, and it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. "What I am worried about, though, is when you're going to get a girlfriend. I mean, you're a grown man, and you haven't dated anyone." He chuckled.

Heeseung glanced at you feeling embarrassment course throughout his veins.

You were surprised to hear that. Heeseung was a good guy. From what you know, he was intelligent and interested In making music, plus he had handsome features, so you were bewildered at the new information.

"Isn't that something, dear? He's twenty-one and doesn't have a girlfriend."

"Well, that's his choice, babe. Maybe he just hasn't found the right one," you try to ease the tension of the conversation, hoping heeseung would loosen up a bit, but he didn't.

The conversation started out in the wrong direction, to begin with, but now it was completely lost.

"I suppose, but he hasn't even had sex yet" this was the first time you had ever heard your husband talk in such a manner, and it was revolting, to say the least, especially at the dinner table.

Has he always been like this? You wondered.

"Dad, we can have this conversation another time," heeseung gritted through his teeth. He knew his dad was trying to get under his skin, not to say he cared, but heeseung just didn't want you thinking differently of him for being a virgin. He didn't want to think he was any less of a man.

Of course, his dad wasn't going to listen to that, not when there was a perfectly good opportunity to humiliate his son. "Hell, he hasn't even had his first kiss yet," he chuckled, and heeseung's mouth parted as he stared at his dad in shock, unable to comprehend why he'd want to put him to shame like that in front of you.

Heeseung looked at you scanning your face for your reaction, and you could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes before he got up from the table and ran off to his room.

"Why would you say that?" You asked, knowing that you weren't the only one that could obviously see that heeseung was upset when he left.

"Say what? It's harmless fun. He'll get over it" he took a drink of his beer before shrugging his shoulders.

"That didn't look harmless to me, and it wasn't funny," you said sternly while throwing your napkin on the table.

You may not have been on good terms with heeseung, but he didn't deserve to have his love life aired out for your husband's drunken amusement.

You could only imagine how embarrassed heeseung felt.

You stood up from the table and headed to your room as well. You couldn’t believe he had to ruin the evening. "Honey, wait, I'm sorry," you heard him drunkenly apologizing, but you continued on to your room, too stressed and tired to put up with him or anything else right now.

After you finished washing up, you went to check on heeseung. As hard as it was going to be to speak to him, you just wanted to make sure he was okay after what happened.

You knocked on his door, hoping he hadn't already gone to sleep. You waited a few seconds after knocking, and you didn't get an answer.

Maybe he was listening to music, you thought and cracked the door slightly. He was lying in his bed listening to music, just like you had originally thought, and he was wearing the headphones you bought him for his birthday. You smiled at the heartwarming sight before opening the door further and revealing yourself.

His head shot up to the door when he noticed the light from the hallway shining into his dimly lit room. When he saw it was you, he quickly took off his headphones and straightened out his blankets, running his fingers through his hair, trying to tidy up a bit.

"Can I come in?" He just looked at you and nodded his head. You shut the door behind you and sat on his bed, pushing away the thoughts of the last time you were in his room on his bed. "Sorry about him," you apologized on your husband's behalf.

"It's not your fault" he scooted away from you and hugged his knees to his chest. "It wouldn't be the first time he's done that" the words accidentally slipped from his mouth, and he panicked.

"What do you mean?" You ask him, puzzled.

Heeseung was quick to come up with an excuse. You didn't know much about his relationship with his father. From the outside looking in, they seemed like they got along pretty well, and heeseung knew what he said just now would make you ask questions, and those questions he didn't want to answer cause ultimately they would reveal what his dad was doing to you this whole entire time.

"Uhh, you know, just the teasing and all" he smiled uncomfortably and hoped you'd buy that lame excuse, and it seemed like you did when you nodded your head in understanding.

"Just so you know, it's nothing to be ashamed of" you were going to reach your hand out and comfort him, but you decided it'd be best if you didn't.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said lowly, and you sighed in defeat as you sat up and walked out of his room. If he didn't want to talk about it, you weren't going to force him to. You assumed he needed space, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

You went back to your shared bedroom to find your husband already lying in bed waiting for you. "Honey, I'm sorry," he apologized again while you got into bed next to him. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. He's probably upset with me," he mumbled in the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you.

You cuddle up closer to him, and he presses soft kisses all over your neck, tickling you. "Babe!" You shouted when he started tickling your sides playfully.

"What?" He answers back as if he's unaware of what he was doing to you.

You giggled and squirmed, trying to get out of his hold.

"I gotcha now," he teased and continued tickling you while laughing at the noises you were making.

Heeseung could hear you both talking and laughing. He hated how his room was right next to your guy’s, and he could hear literally everything.

He turned up his music to full blast, drowning out everything. The last thing he wanted was to hear you being intimate with his father.

His father didn't deserve to see your body, heeseung thought. You should have been in his bed making love to him. He was confident his father couldn't please you the way he could. Hell, it wouldn't even be a comparison.

If heeseung had a chance with you, he'd give you anything you wanted. He'd take his precious time with your delicate body, trace his fingers over every dip and curve of your beautiful figure whisper praises in your ear about how good you make him feel. He'd stare directly into your eyes and tell you how much he loves you and how precious you are to him as he slowly strokes inside you while you moan his name and clasp your hands tighter with his.

You should be in his room right now with him.

Little did heeseung know you were unfortunately not getting intimate with his father cause after the little tickling session, he passed out from all the alcohol he drank earlier in the evening, leaving you to fall asleep unsatisfied for the countless night in a row.

A few weeks had passed now, and things were starting to get better with your husband. He was taking you out more and spending more time with you, which was great, and it kept your mind clear.

Unfortunately, things were the same with heeseung, and even still, you had no clue what to do. You wanted to tell your husband, but you had no idea what kind of mess that would have caused, so you ignored it entirely, and heeseung went back to his old ways of giving you the cold shoulder, which you were happy about cause that made you feel better about not addressing the situation somehow you twisted it that if he wasn't talking to you you weren't going to talk to him and you convinced yourself this was his fault for shutting you out.

Besides, he hasn't made a move on you since, so there wasn't anything to talk about, right?

Right.

Finally, you got your much-needed break from everything that has happened this past month, and you couldn't have asked for anything better than to be where you are right now, hugged up to your husband on the couch, watching movies as he stroked your hair.

Your guy’s movie marathon was interrupted by heeseung making a surprise visit to the living room. He scoffed and made his way to the couch, handing his father his key to the house before retreating back to his room.

You eyed the little transaction, and you furrowed your brows, looking at the house key that sat on the entertainment stand in the living room. 

"Babe, what was that about?" You wondered why heeseung was giving up his house key.

"Oh, he didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" You say, growing more confused by the second.

"He's moving out next week," he told you as if it was just something as small as a story from one of his co-workers or something.

You sat up abruptly. "What?! No, he didn't tell me" you knew things weren’t going great with you and heeseung right now, but you didn't expect him to keep something this important from you. "Why didn't you tell me?" Now that was the strange part he didn't know about yours and heeseung's falling out, so why would he assume heeseung would tell you when he didn't even speak to you?

"Cause it's not a big deal" he shrugged and tried to hug you, but you backed away.

"It is a big deal. You know how hard I've been trying to get close to him, and you didn't even think to tell me he would be moving?" You raised your voice slightly.

"What does it matter?"

You couldn't sit still any longer. You got up from the sofa and went to heeseung's room. Maybe he could give you a better explanation than the bullshit your husband just gave you. "Why didn't you tell me you’re leaving?" Your tone was still harsh, but it wasn't aimed toward heeseung.

"Didn't think you'd care" he disregarded the way you just stormed into his room without knocking.

"Why would you think that?" Your expression softened, as well as your tone.

"We haven't talked in weeks, so what's the point? For all practical purposes, I'm not even here," he angrily shoved his belongings into his suitcase.

You knew it was your fault why he felt like that, and it made you feel terrible. You could no longer deny the fact that your and Heeseung's relationship diminished because you were not handling what happened like an adult. "I'm sorry. It's all my fault."

Fuck fuck fuck.

He wanted to punch and kick himself for thinking you looked cute apologizing right now. That's not what this is about, heeseung focus. He took a deep breath and put on his hard exterior once again. "I forgive you," he said with no emotion at all.

He couldn’t understand why you’d take all the blame, though, cause he definitely had a part to play.

You watched him packing, and you still felt guilty for everything, even if he had forgiven you. "So that's just it then?" You asked sadly, you knew at this point having a mother-and-son relationship was out of the picture, but you’d still miss him when he was gone.

He sighed and zipped up his bag, opening a smaller one for his toiletries. "What do you want from me, hmm? I already told you this," he pointed back and forth between the two of you. "Is never going to happen. I can't give you what you want, and you can't give me what I want."

"Heeseung, I don't know what to say. I want to tell you I'm sorry, but I'm not. I'm a happily married woman, and you have to understand that," you tried to explain to him in a way he'd understand without hurting his feelings.

"Exactly, and I can accept that, so why can't you accept the fact that this picture-perfect family idea of yours is never going to work? I'm moving out, and now you can live the rest of your life happily with that-" he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from talking and saying something he shouldn't.

"Honey?" You heard your husband calling you from downstairs, and heeseung sighed. You wanted to finish listening to what he was saying, but you opted to leave his room and go to your husband.

"Fuck” heeseung said under his breath when you walked out.

He wanted to let you know what was happening, but he was scared. He didn't want to hurt your feelings, or worse, what if you didn't believe him?

He shook his head and finished packing. It wasn't his mess to sort out. He tried to convince himself.

Everyone glossed over what happened over the next week, and so did you heeseung was leaving today, and there wasn't anything you could do or say to stop him.

It was in the evening, and you were supposed to be going out to dinner with your husband, but he wasn't answering your calls. He said he'd be ready by six, yet it was eight, and he didn't even bother to call you to inform you what was taking him so long, and you started to get worried. 

Tears unknowingly pricked your eyes and cascaded down your face. Everything had gotten to you, and you couldn't contain your emotions anymore and finally let out all your frustrations.

You sobbed into the palms of your hands while sitting at the kitchen table. Everything seemed to be going wrong the past month, and you had no idea how to fix it heeseung was basically done with you, and your husband didn't even seem to notice how stressed you were lately. You were hoping to talk to him over dinner, and now that fell through, so here you sat sobbing like an overgrown baby waiting for your beloved husband to come home.

To make matters even worse, when you looked up, you met eyes with heeseung, and he was just staring at you.

You must have missed him coming down the stairs while you were crying hysterically.

You quickly grabbed a napkin and dried your tears. Obviously, it was too late to hide them, but you still tried.

Heeseung dropped his moving boxes at the door and made his way over to the kitchen. He didn't hesitate for a moment to lean down and wrap his arms securely around your shaking shoulders. "Shhh, it’s okay" he kissed the crown of your head and rested his cheek there while fluttering his eyes shut.

You didn’t have it in you to tell him off for his overly affectionate gesture, so you let him comfort you instead.

You grabbed his hand and held it tightly. You didn't have to tell him why you were crying. He saw his mother in the same position you were in right now, all beautiful and dressed up, ready for the big date that never came.

"I'm going to tell you something that I know I shouldn't, but you deserve to know," he whispered and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. "My father is cheating on you" heeseung's heart rate increased as he finally spilled his father's filthy secret to you.

"What?!" You pushed his arms off you, and he stumbled back slightly while you stood up from your seat. "Why would you say that? He would never" you defend your husband. Little did you know he would, and he was at this very moment.

Heeseung hung his head low. "That's the same thing I thought when my mother told me," his voice cracked. "I know it's hard to accept it. I've been there before, but it's true."

"No," You felt more fresh tears welling in your eyes. "Take that back right now. How could you ever speak about him that way" this was absolutely preposterous, you thought.

"Because it's true, I wanted to tell you for so long, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings, okay?" He stepped closer to you, and you let him engulf you in a hug, but you didn't hug him back.

"How do you know?" You asked, nibbling on your lip. You wanted to fight back, but something about the look on heeseung's face made you feel like he was telling you the truth, and it made you feel sick.

"Call him and ask him where he is," he responds quietly. You broke away from the hug.

"No, I get it now. You're just trying to break us up 'cause you can't stand the fact that I don't want to be with you" that had to be it cause the man you married would never cheat on you, and you knew he loved you, too much to do that to you.

"What?!" Heeseung said, shocked that you would not only accuse him of lying but the fact that you would think that lowly of him. "I would never lie to you, y/n that's not the type of guy I am, and what would I gain from lying to you? I know you'd take his word over mine any day, and besides, I'm leaving today, so even if I was trying to turn you against my father, that'd be pretty stupid given the fact that once I walk out of that door in the next fifteen minutes, you'll probably never see me again."

That was true, but maybe heeseung didn't want you for himself. Maybe he just wanted to ruin your life cause you didn't accept his advances.

He could see the apprehension on your face, and he took the opportunity to further prove his point. "He said he would be home today at six, right?" You just nodded your head. "And he also said he was going to go to work, right?" You nodded once more, feeling a heavy weight settle in your gut. "So if I call his work right now, he should be there, right?" You knew where this was going, and you didn’t like it one bit. You were going to leave and go to your bedroom, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and stopped you from moving.

He let go of you and pulled out his phone, and dialed his dad's work number, putting it on speaker as the phone rang three times before someone picked up. "Hi, could you give me Mr lee's extension? I'm his son, and he's not answering his phone right, and I'm worried" you listen, as whoever was taking the phone call informed heeseung that Mr lee had not been at work today and that he was always off on Sunday. "Oh, okay, thank you. Bye," you stared at heeseung with tears in your eyes.

But you were still in denial. "He's probably just off doing some work elsewhere," you smiled and convinced yourself.

Heeseung couldn't believe how much you were defending his father, but he understood he was the same way when he found out from his mother, but he was going to prove to you that it was true one way or the other. "Y/n, I need you to listen closely to me. I'm doing this for you, okay? I love you, and I don't ever want to see you hurt. I don't want to sit back and watch the next most important woman in my life get reduced to nothing at the hands of my father, not again" it was hard for him to contain his emotions. Talking about this topic was something he thought he had gotten over, but it felt like the wound had never healed, even though he thought it did years ago.

You stood in silence, wrapping your arms around yourself, preparing for what he was about to say. If you were being honest, you had your doubts about your husband a few times, like when he smelled like women's perfume, and he told you he worked around females, so that's why he smelled that way at the time that sounded true, so you went along with it the other time you saw a red stain on his shirt that looked a lot like lipstick, but you thought you were reaching and didn't bring it up to him but now as heeseung was giving you all this information you weren't so sure so instead of telling heeseung off for saying such foul things about his own father you stayed and listened cause deep down you were afraid you had been right all along.

"Remember all the times I always left the table when he came home? It's cause we don't get along. He made it seem that way, so you wouldn't think any less of him, but he knows deep down I hate his guts, and he hates mine. You remember all the times he came home from work late? He was out at the club. Remember all the times he didn't answer his phone or come till the next day? He was off with somebody else while you were waiting at home for him like a good wife" before you could shut him down, he pulled up a picture of your husbands' car in the parking lot of a club, and that's when it felt like your world had come crashing down you had a feeling but you being you just thought you were overthinking all the time, and you stupidly gave your husband the benefit of the doubt when evidently he didn't deserve it.

You were sad, hurt, and upset. "Why would you do that?" You said to heeseung while crying. He just looked at you, mirroring your hurt expression cause this was just as hard for him to relive all over again as it was for you finding out. "You're lying!" You screamed at the top of your lungs. "You're lying!" You pushed his him. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" you hit his chest, punctuating your hurtful words each time your hand came in contact with his body. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he let you weakly pound his chest. Eventually, he grabbed your wrist and stopped you pulling you into a hug instead. "You're lying," you choked out through sobs as you let him engulf you in a hug. This time, you hugged him back in your weak and vulnerable state.

You couldn't believe everything was a lie right from the beginning. You don't blame heeseung for not telling you sooner. You blame yourself for being so stupid and naive to believe such ridiculous lies. You hated yourself for having blind faith in your husband, and you hated your heart for loving him so foolishly that even when things seemed different, you just brushed it off.

Heeseung rubbed your back soothingly to comfort you. "Remember all the times I came down for dinner when he was gone? I did it so you wouldn't feel alone. Remember all those times I came back early? I did it so you wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. Remember all those times when I was here for you, and he wasn't?" You could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest while he poured his feelings out to you. "If I was in his place, I'd never come home late. If I was in his place, I'd never look at another girl, and if I was in his place, I'd treat you right" he held onto you tighter, giving his words more significance.

He leaned back to look you in the eyes, trailing his hands over your hip bones. "If I was in his place, I'd never make you cry" he scanned your face, and his heart broke for you. You looked lifeless and completely broken as he wiped away your stray tears. It was like he was looking in a mirror at his fourteen-year-old self when his mother told him the same news, except when he found out he had no one to confide in cause his mom practically abandoned him for alcohol and left him in the hands of his abusive father, but he wasn’t going to let you go through the same thing that he did he was going to be that person that was there for you when no one else was he was going to be that person his mother couldn't be for him.

Heeseung thought it was now or never and closed the gap between you two before he could think twice. Besides, no matter the outcome of his actions, he'd be gone tomorrow, but he was here today, he was in this moment, and he was going to make every second of it count.

You responded to the kiss, and in your weakened state, all you wanted was his comfort. It was something you needed more than anything in the world, especially right now.

It felt so right.

No matter how hard you tried to be his mother, you never quite made the cut, and deep down, you knew it was because you never really saw him as your son. You were just too wrapped up in trying to be the perfect wife for your husband that you lost sight of everything, and right now, after everything heeseung had told you, kissing him didn't feel wrong cause you didn't feel like you were kissing your stepson no, you felt like you were kissing a man that loved you and a man that actually cared for you and your well being.

He hummed into the kiss pulling you closer by your waist as he kissed you passionately, slowly, lovingly this was the first time you had ever felt this way from a kiss. You never felt the butterflies in your stomach that you were feeling right now when you kissed anyone else. With heeseung, you could actually feel the love he had for you.

He leaned back and fluttered his eyes open, slowly placing one last loving peck on your lips.

He's been waiting for the moment for far too long. It was definitely worth the wait. He'd live his hellish life all over again just for it to lead to this very moment with just you and him and no other distractions in between.

Your lips were just as soft as he imagined, your kiss was just as electrifying as he daydreamed, and your embrace was everything he ever prayed for. "Come with me," he says out of nowhere. "Get a divorce and leave him live with me. I promise I can take care of you, trust me" he rested his forehead against yours. Everything was happening so fast, and you could barely breathe, but one thing you knew for sure was right now, heeseung had told you the truth you had been searching for, and his embrace made you feel safe. He proved you could trust him, but you don't know if you were ready to move on so quickly you didn't want your emotions getting in the way of making such a big decision, and heeseung seemed to have read your mind.

"We can take this as slow as you want" he gripped your shoulders, leaning down a bit to hold eye contact with you. "Look at me, okay? All I'm asking is for you to come with me, if, a month down the road, you decide you don't want to try with me. I’ll completely understand, but right now, I just can't stand to see you hurt. I can't let that happen to someone I love not again," he meant every word wholeheartedly. He couldn't be there for his mother, but he could be there for you.

You nibbled on your lip in thought you had no money outside of your husband's income, and you couldn't afford to move right now. "Heeseung, I can't." You whisper.

"Why?" He breathed out and placed his hands on your cheeks. “Hmm?”

"I can't afford to move, and I can't go back to my parent's house," you told him your concerns for the first time in months. You felt comfortable speaking your mind out in the open.

"You know how I always go out at night?" You nodded your head as he stroked your cheek softly with his thumb. "I hate for you to find out like this, but I was doing illegal things to make money, and let's just say I could buy you a house twice this size. We could fly to your parent's house and be there in the morning. Whatever you want, I can give to you." He looked at you intensely to prove to you that he was dead serious.

You could feel a headache coming on. This was all too much for you to handle alone, but Heeseung wasn't going to let you handle this alone, not this time. "I couldn't ask that of you."

"I want to give you a life that you deserve, let me" the look in his eyes was indescribable, but if you had to put it in words, it was love mixed with hate, sadness mixed with anger, but behind everything, it was hopeful and sincere. "Let me be the man in your life that my father couldn't be" you didn't need to hear anything more you gave him a quick kiss sealing off his promise and wrapping your arms around him tightly.

"Thank you," you mumbled into the crook of his neck wetting his shirt with your warm tears, but he didn't mind one bit as he reciprocated the hug.

"Anything for you. I got you" he disconnected from the hug and smiled, wiping your tears. "Let's get you all packed, yeah?" He wasn't trying to pressure you, but the sooner you both could leave, the better.

"Wait" you put your hand on his chest, stopping him from going anywhere.

"What's wrong?" He asked softly and rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb.

"I'm scared," you muttered.

"It's okay. I’m here now, and I won’t ever let him hurt you again" he led you upstairs, and you grabbed only your necessities. You didn't want anything that reminded you of your soon to be ex-husband.

Heeseung gave you a reassuring smile to ease your worries as you dropped your bags off at the door.

You both sat in the living room, waiting for him to come home. "It's okay," heeseung whispered and grabbed your hand. "I'll be here every step of the way. You have nothing to worry about" he kissed your hand but quickly distanced himself from you when he heard the front door crack open.

"Hey, isn't this a surprise you guys are actually getting along for once," he said, and it was now clear as day how condescending his tone was, and it only occurred to you now that that's how he always talked to you when it came to you trying to get close with heeseung you can't believe you didn't notice it sooner.

You can't believe he didn't even mention the date you two were supposed to go on. Then again, if heeseung never showed you what your husband was up to, you probably would have summed it up to him just being tired from “work” like you always foolishly had.

"Can we talk?" You ignored his slight jab and walked over to the kitchen heeseung parted his mouth to say something, but you smiled at him, letting him know you were okay.

"Sure" he took off his shoes and followed you to the kitchen smirking at heeseung while doing so.

"Look, I don't want your explanation. All I want is a divorce" you slid the diamond band off your finger and set it on the counter.

"What?" Your ex-husband chuckled incredulously.

"I know exactly what you've been doing behind my back, and I don't want to be with a person like you. I can't live the rest of my life with a liar," your whole body shook with nerves and fear.

"What are you talking about? I haven't been doing anythi-"

"Don't! Just stop!" you yelled at him for the first time ever. "Save it for someone else" you tried to walk past him, but he grabbed you by your wrist heeseung was watching the whole time from the living room, and as soon as his father laid a finger on you, he was quick to stand up and make his way over to you.

"Don't you dare touch her again" you looked up and saw that heeseung had gotten in between you and was shielding you from his dad.

"Oh, so he speaks," his dad chuckled. "Stay out of this boy. It has nothing to do with you" he pointed his finger in heeseung's face.

"It has everything to do with me," heeseung gritted through his teeth. "You heard her what she said. Now leave her alone."

"Watch your tone with me, boy" he balled his fists and got ready to throw a punch at heeseung, and you screamed in fear, but luckily heeseung was quick enough to dodge out of the way.

"Stay back," heeseung said to you before turning back to his father. "Do not make me do this" he stood up to his father, looking down on him from the height difference heeseung had definitely outgrown his father. He was no longer the helpless teen boy that couldn’t defend himself all those years ago. He had grown into a man that was able to stand up for himself and protect the people he loves.

His father didn't listen, and this time, it was heeseung who was raising his fist and landing a powerful punch to his dad's jaw, knocking him straight to the ground.

Heeseung immediately jumped on top of him, pinning him to the ground while beating his face to a pulp with every punch. He could hear his mother's cries, and with every punch, he saw your sad face, and he went into a fit of complete rage, landing every blow, each hit more powerful, Than the last, as he screamed. "No more!" Over and over again. “I’m not letting you hurt me or the people I love anymore!”

You stood there in shock, whimpering with your hands covering your mouth as tears ran down your face. "Heeseung, that's enough" you went closer to him, and he pushed you back slightly and continued to punch his father's face in, pretty soon. It would be unrecognizable. "Heeseung, please stop" when he heard your broken voice, he immediately snapped out of it and turned around to see you crying. He quickly let go of his father's collar and stood up, wrapping you in his arms protectively.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. You could feel him shaking with pure rage, and it scared you, but you knew he'd never do anything to hurt you. "I'm sorry, love.” He spoke gently and stroked your head. “I just don't want him to hurt anyone anymore." He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"It's all okay now," you comforted him and rubbed his back gently.

He sighed and rested his chin on the crown of your head. "It's okay," he reiterated, swaying your body back and forth in his hold" "ready to go home?"

"But your hand" you held his bloody hands, examining the broken skin on his knuckles, and he winced slightly.

"I'm okay for now. Let's just get out of here" he kissed your forehead softly.

You looked at the floor where the man you once called your husband was laid out unconscious, and as you looked at his bloody tattered face, you felt no remorse, not after he tried to not only hurt you but heeseung as well after you found out everything about him you couldn’t feel one ounce of sadness for him.

Heeseung followed your line of vision, and he felt nothing but resentment toward the man he once called his father. "He can take care of himself" heeseung spat on his unmoving body and hooked his arm around your shoulder, and headed to the door. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?" Heeseung said with worry.

"No," you whispered and shook your head softly while clutching onto his arm.

“Good” he whispered and kissed your cheek, a faint smile graced heeseung's features, and his eyes lit up as a warm feeling spread throughout his chest. He couldn't put into words how happy he was that you felt comfortable and safe with him.

You grabbed your suitcases and walked out the door hand in hand with heeseung. Once the car was fully loaded with your belongings, he opened the door and helped you inside, buckling your seatbelt and placing one last loving kiss on your temple as you smiled softly at him.

After he got in the driver seat and buckled himself in, he held your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles on your palm, and you're not sure what the future held for you and heeseung, but for right now, you were going to go wherever he takes you.

Cause, after all, it was heeseung that helped you break your unholy ties.

FIN.

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate each and every one of you who made it to the end.

[lovelybucky1]

Crane Motel

Kinktober Day 12- Somnophilia

warnings: DARK FIC, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT: AFAB!reader, Psycho AU, non-con, somnophilia, struggle fuck, groping, incel!jonathan, oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ Minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

The sky is pitch black and the heavy rain makes it difficult to see even ten feet in front of your car. You can't continue driving in these conditions, so you take the nearest exit in hopes of finding a place to spend the night or at least a place to pull over.

You drove about five minutes into the town off the highway until you came across a building. Crane Motel the neon sign read. Vacancies. It doesn’t have to be nice, it just has to be dry.

You pull into the lot, gravel crunching under your tires. It’s hard to see the parking spots, but no one else is here and you doubt they’ll come at this hour. You collect your items and make a dash for the porch of the office, locking your car with the remote once you’re away from the rain.

You open the door to the office and you’re met with the warm light from a lamp and an empty desk.

“Hello?” you say. No answer. “Hello?” Still no answer. You notice a bell on the desk so you try your luck and hit the bell. The metallic ring fills the office and from the closed door behind the desk, you hear a thump.

The door swings open and a young man in a light blue button down shirt that hangs off him and khakis appears.

“Hi,” he smiles. “Welcome to the Crane Motel.”

“Hello,” you smile politely. “I’d like a room please.”

“Of course,” he says, taking out the guest book and opening it to today’s date. As he flips through the pages you take note that most of them are blank, and the ones that are written on only have one or two names. “We don’t get many visitors up here,” he says with a small chuckle.

“Well, I’m only here for the night. The weather’s too bad out there to keep driving.”

The man nods in understanding. “I’m Jonathan, by the way,” he says, extending his hand to you.

You shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jonathan.”

“Likewise. I run this motel. My mother owns it, but she’s too sick to take care of things around here so I’m in charge of it.”

You nod along as you sign your name in the guest book. “Is it just the two of you?”

“Has been all my life. My dad died before I was born so it’s just been her and I.”

You find it a bit odd that he’s sharing so much of his life with a stranger, but you figure he doesn’t have anyone to talk to up here.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“Don’t be. Can’t lose what you’ve never had,” he says with a smile.

Jonathan tilts his head to look down at the guest book and reads off your name. “That’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“How are you gonna be paying?” he asks.

“Cash,” you say, taking out your wallet.

He furrows his brows. “Cash? You’re not on the run, are you?” You look up at him with a confused expression, but when his face splits into a smile you catch on that he’s joking. “I’m kidding. People usually use cash if they’re on the run or having an affair, but you’re here alone, right?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Alright, no reason to be suspicious of you then. That’ll be $30.”

“Only 30?”

“We’re not in demand enough to charge anymore that,” he chuckles. “Besides, you seem nice and you’re just looking for a place to stay.”

“Well, thank you, Jonathan.”

He takes your cash and counts it out, confirming you gave him the right amount. He then unlocks the cash drawer and puts the bills in their appropriate slots.

“Alright, I’m gonna put you in Cabin 1. It’s closest to the office in case you need anything tonight,” he says as he takes the key labeled 1 off of the hook screwed into the wall.

He hands you the key but before you could turn to leave, he catches your elbow.

“I was making dinner for my mother and I but I accidentally made too much. Would you like to join us?” he offers.

“Oh, thank you for the offer but I’m super exhausted from driving all this way. I’m just going to head to bed,” you say.

“Okay,” he says, letting you go of your arm. “You never said where you’re from.”

“Um, about a two hours south from here.”

Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing all the way up here?”

You sigh quietly, growing tired of his questions. “I’m going on a trip with some friends.”

“Sounds fun,” he says.

You nod with a close lipped smile. “Well, have a good night.”

“You too,” he says.

You turn and exit the office, shutting the door behind you. You run to your car and grab your bags as quickly as you can to avoid getting soaked, then take cover again under the roof. You walk across the wooden porch to the door labeled 1 that is connected to the office. You unlock the door and walk into the room, taking in the surroundings.

The room is small but it has a bed and a bathroom, so it will suffice. You drop your bags at the end of the bed and open your suitcase, digging through it for pajamas and toiletries.

You change into your t-shirt and shorts, then disappear into the bathroom to wash up. Unbeknownst to you, the kind man you met at the desk is not what he seems.

He put you in the first cabin not so it would be easier to attend to your needs, but because behind a picture frame in the office is a hole that he can look through to see the bed.

Jonathan was infatuated with you the moment he laid eyes on you. He doesn't interact with many people other than his mother, especially not someone so beautiful and interesting as you. He knew he couldn't let this opportunity slip away. He had to have you before you left in the morning.

He waited for you to return from the bathroom and when he heard a thumb through the thin walls, he peered back through the hole. Seeing you undress was exhilarating. Your body is gorgeous, exactly what he likes. It's almost like the universe sent you to him for a reason.

As kind as you are, Jonathan knows you would never agree to a night with him if he were to ask. That's why he's going to wait until you're asleep to make a move.

Apparently you're less exhausted than you let on, because instead of going right to sleep like you said you would, you stay up for another hour watching TV.

Once you finally turned off the TV and lights, Jonathan waited fifteen minutes for you to fall asleep before sneaking into your room. He unlocks the door quietly and turns the handle before opening it so the knob doesn't click.

He's used to seeing in the dark, so he has no trouble making his way over to the bed. The faint light from the neon sign outside illuminates your face, making you look angelic.

Jonathan gently untucks the covers from your arm and pulls them down, revealing your body. He sighs in delight as he trails his fingertips gently down your arm, relishing in the feeling of your soft skin.

Luckily you're laying on your back so he has easy access to everything he wants to see. He pushes your shirt up over your breasts, revealing even more soft skin and peaked nipples that catch the light from the window. Jonathan brushes the pad of his thumb over them gently, curious as to what they feel like.

Getting braver, he palms your breasts and squeezes them. He's seen plenty of breasts before online, but he's never even been this close to a pair in real life. He is mesmerized by how the flesh jiggles.

He has been hard in his slacks sine you first came to the desk, but now that he is touching you, he is growing increasingly needy. He undoes the fly of his pants and lets his cock hang out from the zipper. Even having it out in your presence made him ache with pleasure.

Jonathan then turned his attention to your bottoms. He slips his fingers under the waist band and gently pushes them down as best he can. They get caught under your as, but he can pull them down enough to get a glimpse of your pussy.

His hands shake as he gently caresses your mound, surprised that you're even softer here. He lets his finger dip between your folds, feeling your wetness. Jonathan then pulls his hand back and holds it up to his face to take a deep breath of your scent. It's delicious, and he can't help but taste it off his finger.

He reaches under your shorts again, exploring your pussy and teasing your entrance while his other hand jerks his cock. He gets a bit too carried away, because his unpracticed hands must have poked you the wrong way and you stir.

Jonathan yanks his hand back and waits to see if you'll wake up. You remain asleep, but you roll onto your side, turning your back to him. He is a bit disappointed at first, but then he gets another idea. He pulls your shorts the rest of the way down and lets them bunch at your knees.

He gently spreads your ass cheeks to look at your holes. He has to stifle a groan when he sees the glistening of your pussy. Jonathan leans down to lick you from behind. At this angle, only the tip of his tongue makes contact with your folds, but it's enough to get a taste right from the source.

He moves his tongue back and forth as much as he can, imagining that he's doing this for your pleasure and not his own perverted desires. Between his legs, his cock his painfully hard and leaking onto the shitty carpet.

Feeling bold since he's done all of this to you and you haven't woken up yet, he decides to go a little further. He eases you onto your stomach and gently lifts your legs so he can slot himself between them. He slowly eases onto the mattress and spreads your folds so he can find your entrance.

He lines his cock up and begins to push in. It's a little difficult when the only experience he's ever had has been with his hand. He manages to get the tip in when he feels your body jolt. You make something of a whine and Jonathan's heart begins racing.

You try to adjust your position, still mostly asleep, but when you find yourself being restrained, you start to thrash. You kick your legs and claw at the sheets, all while yelling out.

"Get the fuck off me!" you cry, shaking your body like you're a mechanical bull trying to throw him off.

Jonathan doesn't want to stop. He's made it this far already. He presses down on your shoulder blades to keep you from squirming and your arms are pinned under your chest so you can't try to hit him.

You're still screaming, but now it's broken up by heavy sobs and pleas. You can scream as loud as you want but the only person around to hear you is the one making you scream.

Jonathan continues to push his cock into you, though he faces more resistance now that you're awake. You're so much tighter when you're scared, he notes.

"Don't hurt me, please. I-I have a family, please stop," you beg.

Jonathan frowns. "I'm not hurting you," he says.

How could he be hurting you? Sex feels good, and women love to have sex. That's what he's seen in all those videos. They love it so much they'll even beg for it.

Jonathan ruts into you and after a while, you lose the will to scream for help. All you can do is lay there and sob while he violates you. Jonathan, however, is enjoying himself very much. The tight, wet heat of your pussy around him is like nothing else he's ever experienced. It's addictive, and though he feels himself getting close, he doesn't want this to end.

Jonathan tries to stave off his orgasm but he's too worked up. He bucks his hips quickly, jackhammering you until he cums. He's fucking you like a fleshlight, using you as a place to stick his dick weather you're willing or not.

He buries himself deep inside you when he cums, emptying his overfilled balls into you. Jonathan is moaning and whimpering above you, completely overwhelmed by pleasure. He lays himself over your back and tucks his chin over your shoulder.

His face is far too close to yours and you scream again, hoping it will make him leave you alone. With a satisfied sigh, he pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. He bends down to look at his cum leaking out of your pussy, just like he sees in all the videos he watches.

He grabs your covers and pulls them back up over you, tucking you in. You lay facing away from him, body shaking with silent sobs.

"I'll see you in the morning for breakfast," Jonathan says before exiting your room and heading back to the office.

Tonight he'll sleep on the sofa in the parlor in case you need anything. And he'll wake up extra early to watch you get dressed in the morning.

[headkiss]

do you think i have forgotten?

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you loved steve harrington years ago, and he loved you. now, coming back to hawkins, you find that things may not be so different.

word count: 14.1k

warnings: fluff, smut, a little angst, exes to lovers, very much idiots in love!

a/n: here it is!!! i hope u guys like it!!! it took a while but hopefully it was worth it <3

༄

A ‘welcome home’ banner hangs lopsided on the wall.

The party is smaller than the ones you’d become accustomed to at school. That didn’t matter. What did was that your favorite people were around for this one.

It was meant to be a surprise, but Nancy gave you a heads up. She knows you hate surprises, you just don’t have the heart to tell Robin, who absolutely loves surprise parties. Planning them, to be exact. So, you acted shocked, put on your biggest smile.

It was worth it for the beaming grin on your friend’s face, the tight hug as a hello.

You didn’t realize how much you missed home until now. Until you came back.

Small talk isn’t so tiring when it’s with people you really care about. Eddie and Jonathan, Nancy and Robin, even the kids are there to give you the warmest welcome you could ever have. Hugs from some of them, teasing from all of them.

It’s perfect, but there’s an obvious absence. One you’ve tried and tried not to think about. But here, in this room, with these people, you can tell that without him, there’s a space waiting to be filled.

That space has been left open in your life for years. A gaping hole. Then, when the night’s half over and you’re convinced you won’t see him, you hear one word that has memories rushing back to you. Like a flood.

“Ace.”

There’s only one person in the entire world who calls you that. Steve Harrington.

The nickname isn’t the only thing that gives him away. His voice is engraved in your head, the tone, the way it hits your ears. It’s been years since you last heard it, and still, it feels so, so familiar.

You met in high school. Gym class, actually, and you’d been deemed Ace ever since. By him.

It started with friendship, reluctant at first and then impossibly close. It grew into the kind of undeniable thing that pushed you together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. In love.

He was really, really good to you. So good that you didn’t care about who his friends were or what his reputation was. You didn’t care when things changed and he went from King Steve to the best babysitter around. Over a year, you were together.

Then, he was gone.

When you told him you’d be going away for school, he was supportive, happy for you, even. Then, the day before you were set to move he sat you down and broke your heart. I can't be with you anymore, he said.

Not I don’t want to, or I won’t. Can’t. Like he had no other choice.

To this day, you’re not sure why he did it. You called over and over for weeks when you first got to school. He never picked up. You were only able to check on him through your mutual friends. Robin, Nancy, Eddie, all of them.

One day, he was the greatest thing in your life, the next, he’d completely disappeared from it. Like a ghost.

You pushed yourself through school, tried to let go of him. It got easier, but the pinch in your chest when you thought about him never quite went away. You tried being with other guys again, but nothing stuck. It felt like you were cheating, like you could never fully commit to someone else. Your mind, body, and soul still belonged to him.

It got easier eventually. You can’t remember when it did, but over time, thinking of Steve became less like a stab to the chest, and more of a pinch.

When you spoke to your friends, they’d mention him briefly. In passing, like they didn’t want to hurt you with something as simple as a name. You knew he was working at Family Video with Robin, you knew his parents were around even less than they used to be, and you knew he went on dates. Often.

Steve spent every year of you being away trying to convince himself that he did the right thing.

He missed you constantly, but he felt like he’d be holding you back if he stayed with you. A distraction from your college experience, a boyfriend who couldn’t even make it to college himself. Not enough for you.

Now, seeing you at the welcome home party Robin put together, he feels like the biggest idiot in the world. Universe, even. Because how could he have let go of someone that lights up the room like a ray of fucking sunshine.

It’s pathetic that all he could say to you after all the years was his nickname for you.

You turn around after hearing it, the sight of Steve a punch in the gut. He’s just as pretty, if not more, and though he mostly looks the same, he’s grown in ways you weren’t there to see. He’s almost a stranger now.

“Steve,” you manage. “You’re here.”

“Hi.”

It took a lot of convincing from the gang for him to come. Not because he didn’t want to (he wanted to see you more than anything), but because he didn’t want to do anything to make you upset.

Your haircut is different than before, and you hold yourself in a new way, too. But, as soon as he finds your eyes he feels like he’s in high school again, laying in his bed facing you or laughing at the back of the movie theater.

He thinks of the last time he saw you, the tears leaving trails down your cheeks, the way you didn’t let yourself sob until he walked out. His stomach is in knots.

“Hi,” you hold yourself back from reaching out and poking him to make sure he’s real. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Well, surprise,” he sings the second word and throws up some awkward jazz hands. A glimpse of the dork you remember.

Surprise indeed.

“I can leave,” he offers in your silence. He even turns to do so before you stop him.

“No! No, it’s just- it’s been a while.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. It’s too late for that, and as much as you want to know what happened, why he ended things and just… vanished, you aren’t so stuck on that anymore. Four years is a long time.

You aren’t mad about it, it just never fully left your head.

“How was school?” He asks. Safe, easy.

“Well, I graduated. So, that’s something.”

A wink of a smile has the corners of his mouth twitching up. You’re different, but you’re also the same girl he knew. It’s nice to see again, to have hope that he didn’t destroy you.

“I knew you would,” he scratches the back of his neck. He’s not used to feeling so awkward around you. “You can write your own essays, after all.”

That one makes you huff a laugh, makes you think back to late nights spent helping him fix up his writing. Red pen doodles and way too many distractions.

“One of my many talents,” you say.

There’s another pause, a stillness that feels so wrong for the both of you. He put the distance there, and he hates himself for it. “I’ll be seeing you around then?”

“Yeah, Steve. I’m home.”

Yes, he thinks. You are home. Hawkins was missing something without you in it. Or maybe that was just him. Missing something without you.

Just as you’re pulled away into a conversation with Robin and Max, Steve grasps your wrist gently. Your skin burns with the familiarity of his touch. Aches with the memory.

“It’s good to see you, Ace.”

Then, in a blink, he lets you go.

When you turn away, Eddie comes up beside Steve, claps a hand on his back. “Nice, man. Not weird at all.”

“Shut it, Munson.”

Steve has a hard time keeping his eyes off of you. He searches for you when he hears you laugh, can feel his pulse jump when you throw your head back the way you always have. He lets his eyes linger when he knows he shouldn’t.

You catch him once. You can feel his stare on you like a breeze, tickling the back of your neck. When you turn towards him your eyes lock, just for a moment.

-

Hawkins is mostly the same. The stores on Main Street still have worn awnings, letters faded and colors dimmed. The arcade sign still flickers, Enzo’s is still the best restaurant. The movies where Steve used to take you on dates, his house with his BMW in the driveway.

It’s hard to be back and not let Steve bleed into everything.

At school, it was easy not to think about him. You’d bury yourself in studying and projects. Here, he’s everywhere you look. The town is painted with memories of you and him. He’s written all over the place.

You thought you were over what happened, that you could come home and not let it phase you. You had no idea it’d be like this.

Despite it all, you’re glad to be home. You like waking up to the peacefulness of light wind and leaves rustling. It’s a lot nicer than a dorm building full of students and the constant noise of the city.

You’re tremendously happy to be so close to your friends again, too. There’s no more worrying about whether or not you’ll see them anytime soon, no more sporadic phone calls that just make you miss them more.

But still, there’s that empty space. Steve-shaped.

The next time you see him you’d decided to visit Robin at work. It took you about a week of being home to get yourself to go into Family Video, knowing Steve works there. You have to get used to him again.

Sure enough, when you walked in, there he stood. Green vest and all.

When the bell above the door jingles to signal your entrance, Steve turns to look at you. He sets down the box of stock he’d been holding, and your eyes follow the way his arms flex before you can tell them not to.

“Ace, hi.”

“Hey,” you send a short wave his way, rocking on your feet. “I’m just meeting Robin for lunch.”

He probably knows that, but you say it anyway, trying to fill the void of silence that hums between you.

“Yeah. She’s in the back already,” he says. “I can show you.”

“Sure, thanks.”

He almost places a hand at the small of your back to guide you, just like he used to. It’d be so natural, so simple. Instead, he clenches his fist by his side and shuffles in front of you, nodding his head for you to

follow.

“So, um,” he stops in front of the door to the back, turning to face you. “We still do movie nights. All of

us, like we used to. You should come.”

“Are you sure?”

Movie nights are always at Steve’s, and you don’t want to be there if it’ll cause any problems, as much as you’ve missed the sense of tradition. Routine.

“There’s an open spot on the couch for you anyway. Always has been.”

When you were away, you worried your friends would replace you. Forget about you, even. That clearly wasn’t the case.

“I’d love to go. If you’re sure it’s okay.”

“As long as you still don’t mind Eddie talking through the important parts.”

You shake your head, a small, close-mouthed smile on your face.

“Wouldn’t be a movie night without it.”

The bell above the door rings again, and Steve turns to see the customer. “I should get back.”

You nod. You watch him go, watch him greet the woman who walked in with his classic smile.

You just have to get used to him again, that’s all.

-

Walking the steps up to the Harrington’s front door is something you’ve done time and time again. So, it shouldn’t feel so odd, really.

It used to be an almost daily occurrence. Now, it takes you some mental preparation before you can bring yourself to knock on the door. This time, it isn’t Steve who answers, it’s Robin. You’re grateful for it, because stepping into his house again is already a bunch to take in.

“You came!” She says, grinning.

“Of course I did. I missed movie nights a bunch.”

You really, really did.

While you had a couple of friends in Indianapolis, the connections were shallow. Especially compared to what you have here. There, they were friendships formed from convenience. Roommates or project partners. It was a lot lonelier than you let on.

“We missed you, too.” Robin walks you into the living room, where cheers of your name ensue.

“Look who it is,” Eddie speaks from where he sits on the ground in front of the TV, setting things up.

There’s a shift from the loud, giddy greetings when Steve walks into the room, bowl of popcorn in hand. It’s like everyone’s waiting for one of you to burst.

“Hey. You made it,” Steve says. No bursting, just some sort of tension that hasn’t gone away since you saw him at your party.

“Yeah. Thanks again for inviting me.”

“Surprised one of them didn’t beat me to it,” he nods at your friends that are scattered across the couches. Your friends whose eyes are ping-ponging between you both.

It’s almost like you can feel everyone take a breath of relief when you plant yourself by the armrest of the sofa. When you shoot Steve a small, barely-there smile. A peace offering.

Halfway through the movie—broken up by constant Eddie commentary, and various ways of someone telling him to stuff it—Steve notices the way you’re curled up, cardigan pulled tight over your body.

He reaches across Robin to hand you a blanket wordlessly. She nudges his shoulder when you aren’t looking, gives him a look that tells him she knows something, even if he doesn’t.

He’s always been attentive, but you’re surprised when the soft fabric is passed over. You wonder if he realizes it’s the blanket you’d always reach for when you were over. If he realizes he handed you the one you’d cuddled him under countless times.

He doesn’t, you’re sure. Why on earth would he remember those things? Or even care?

After that night, the group slowly becomes whole again. The others stop planning separate things with you or Steve. It’s like they waited for you to get acclimated to being around each other again, tested the waters.

It’s as sweet as it is sad. You never wanted to mess anything up, make anything harder.

Though you see Steve a lot more often, your interactions with him remain short and distant. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to feeling so far away from him.

While you were away, over time, the memories became less vivid, as did the pictures that still sit in your bedroom at home. Sun damaged and faded. Your feelings, though, they never really dimmed, only pushed to the back of your mind and shoved into a box labeled Steve.

That box has been bursting at the seams.

Still, you try to keep it shut, to push it all aside and be friends with him again. Or, friendly, at the very least.

Steve keeps a framed picture of you in a drawer in his bedside table. Maybe that’s weird. It used to sit atop of the table, but he moved it when it got too hard to look at your face without thinking of how it looked when you cried.

Having you around again is hard, but it’s more so a relief. He’s missed you so, so much, and even though things aren’t the same and they might never be again, he’ll take you in his life any way he can have you. And this is a start.

The hardest part, he thinks, is burying all the things he never got to say. I’m sorry, I just wanted what was best for you, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s no use now, he knows that, so he swallows the words down. They make his stomach ache.

He needs to distract himself from it all, because it’s too much. Seeing your face almost every day again, not being able to reach out and hold it like he used to.

It’s way too much.

-

You got a job at Enzo’s to keep yourself busy.

While you’d love to stay buried in your bed all day, or walk around aimlessly until you end up at Lover’s Lake, sitting by the water and listening to it move, your parents decided it’d be better for you to do something valuable with your time.

Besides, waitressing isn’t so bad. You mostly work nights, allowing you the sleep-ins you love so much, there’s not so much pressure when you already know most of the people you serve, and the tips are always nice.

It’s mostly a breeze—besides a spill incident—until Steve shows up there on a date. Seated in your section.

Your coworker had warned you, “new table for you. Looks like a date.” And there he was. His hair done like always (does he still use Farrah Fawcett spray?) and his dress shirt a little wrinkled.

When it’s time to head over, you shut your eyes and take a grounding breath, slap on your customer service smile. You introduce yourself like you always do, the ‘I’ll be your waitress for this evening’ spiel.

Steve looks up from the menu as soon as he hears your voice. He’s stunned, eyes wide and mouth ever-so-slightly agape while he looks at you. He tries to recover quickly. If he’d known you were working tonight he never would have brought his date here, never would have subjected you to that on purpose. He feels like shit.

“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” You say. Waitress persona engaged, praying your face doesn’t look forced.

She orders first. Her voice is sweet, and she’s pretty. Why'd she have to be so pretty?

“Just water for me. Thanks, Ace,” Steve says, letting the nickname slip. It’s like he can’t hold it in around you.

“‘Course.” You turn quickly to get their drinks.

“Ace?” Steve’s date, Becky, asks.

“We’re friends. From school. Just a nickname.”

He simplifies it. There’s no point in telling the whole story. It’s over—he’s had to remind himself of that constantly—and it’s his fault. Not the type of thing he needs to share on a first date, that’s for sure.

“Oh, okay. So, what are you getting?” Somehow, she accepts the answer easily.

You shouldn’t feel so shaken by this. Really, you shouldn’t. You were with Steve ages ago, and it’s been over. You don’t have any sort of claim over him anymore. None.

So why is your stomach twisting every time you catch him smiling at something she says?

All you know is that it won’t do you any good to think about that too much. You busy yourself with getting their drinks instead. You approach the table carefully, not wanting to spill anything.

“For you,” you set her drink down. She thanks you. She’s nice, too. “And, water for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You guys ready to order, or do you need a couple more minutes?”

It’s like you’re on autopilot, repeating the same phrases you do to every single table, hoping that it comes out sounding natural.

“I think we’re good,” Steve says, gesturing for his date to go first.

He almost feels like he should apologize to you. Then again, maybe he’s reading into things too far. As much as he feels like he can tell when you’re uncomfortable, when your smile is forced, he has no idea if your habits are the same as they used to be.

You’re cautious not to let your hands touch when you collect the menu from Steve.

The rest of their dinner is much the same, and you’re grateful any time you can distract yourself with a different table. Your actions are stiff, your words practically robotic.

Still, before he leaves, Steve leaves you a tip and a scrawled note on a crumpled receipt: ‘Thank you. Sorry for the ambush. -Steve.’

You still have notes from him, in that same, charmingly messy handwriting, buried in a shoebox in your closet. Notes you didn’t have time to get rid of in your rush to move. Notes you should probably get rid of.

Not only did he leave you a note, he was outside waiting for you when your shift was over.

He wasn’t going to wait. He was going to leave it at the note and hope that you weren’t bothered as much as he thought you might be. Maybe it was stupid to think you’d be affected by him being with someone else in front of you after all this time, but he couldn’t ignore the instinct he got when he saw the look on your face. The guilt he felt.

He catches you as you walk out the door, startling you a bit, “Ace, wait up.”

“God, you scared me. What are you doing here?”

“Sorry,” he says, falling into step beside you as you walk to your car. He’d parked two spots over. “Actually, I just wanted to say that. Sorry, I mean.”

“You already said that,” he tilts his head, a question. “On your note.”

“I didn’t want you to think I did that on purpose. I didn’t know you worked at Enzo’s until tonight, actually.”

“I haven’t been for long,” you amend. “I’m not upset with you, Steve.”

The words hold a lot more meaning than you expected. You really aren’t upset with him, not over tonight, and not over what happened years ago. You’re more upset with yourself for letting it get to you even now.

“Good. That’s- I never wanted to hurt you.”

His words are heavy, too. You’re too tired to hold the weight.

“What about your date?” You stop next to your car. He stops, too.

“I drove her home already. Came back after.”

Really, he was halfway home after dropping off Becky, but he couldn’t shake his worry that he’d caused even more strain on your relationship. He turned around without a second thought.

“She seems nice,” you say.

“Yeah,” he looks around the parking lot, stares at the streetlight for a second. “So, we’re okay?”

“We’re okay,” you confirm.

You can’t help but hope that saying it out loud will make things feel better with him. That maybe, you could be some sort of friends again.

He nods, “okay. Sorry again,” he searches for his keys in his pocket, “have a good night, Ace.”

He walks the short distance to his car while you fumble to unlock yours. Climbing in and shutting the door, you let your head fall against the steering wheel, forehead pressed to it.

What a night.

-

Steve’s seen Becky a few times since the date at Enzo’s.

She is nice, and he does like her, but he hasn’t been able to let her kiss him anywhere other than the cheek. So far, she hasn’t said anything, but he knows that he won’t be able to dodge her without question for much longer.

When you were gone, though it took time, he was able to be with other people. It never lasted long, and he rarely went through with things without thinking of you at least once. He can’t even give someone a peck on the mouth.

It’s like as soon as he thinks he can lean in and do it, his mind is all Ace Ace Ace, and he finds he can’t.

He’s trying his best to ignore it, to hope that in getting used to you being back, he’ll get used to not being with you, too. So far, it hasn’t been working very well. He dreams more often than not, and even in sleep, he can’t seem to escape your face.

Instead of digging into whatever mess he’s sure that’ll cause, he’s been seeing Becky.

It’s unfair, he knows it is. To her and to you, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He isn’t thinking straight because you’ve rushed back into his life so quickly he can’t catch up. He’s trying to bury the feelings he has for you by focusing on someone else.

Though, maybe focusing isn’t the right word, because his mind still wanders to you. A bunch.

He’s confused and he’s scared and he misses you. He doesn’t know what to make of everything that’s pushing to the surface once again now that you’re home, and he doesn’t want to because he’s afraid of what it’s sure to become. What might’ve never even left.

He misses you but he can’t do anything about that. So, Becky it is.

-

The breeze tickles your cheeks as you make your way through the trailer park in search of any of your friends.

Somehow, Eddie and his band managed to make their own gig out by the picnic tables, and, of course, he’d invited the group to come watch. When you first became friends with Eddie, he was reluctant to let you all in on his music. Now, though, he lets everyone know there’s a spot for them saved at every performance.

You follow the noise, finding where a small crowd of people has formed by the tables that have been pushed together to serve as a stage. Probably an unsafe one, at that, but it’s Eddie. He cheers when he spots you from where he stands on the middle table.

“She’s here!”

“Can't miss the first show I’m back for, can I?”

“The rockstar would not have that,” Robin says, giving you a quick side hug.

“Thank you for calling me a rockstar,” Eddie replies.

You say your hellos to the others, Nancy, sitting on the bench attached to the table Eddie’s stood on, Jonathan, fiddling with his camera.

“Is Steve not coming?” You ask. Hopefully in a casual way.

“No, he is,” Nancy says.

“Likes to be fashionably late,” is what Robin has to say.

You nod, turning your attention to Eddie, “so, how many of these songs are new?”

“To these fools, none,” he points lazily around the group. “To you, all of them.” He smiles, and it makes you smile, too. You’ve missed being able to support him in person.

“Can’t wait to hear them, then.”

“Dingus!” Robin yells happily.

You know she’s talking about Steve. You turn around to find him. Probably too quickly.

“Hey guys,” he waves. It’s then you notice that he’s not alone. His date that he took to Enzo’s is with him. She waves, too, her arm curled around Steve’s. “This is Becky.”

She’s met with polite greetings. Your mouth, for some reason, stays shut.

Robin comes to stand beside you. She looks at your expression, the shock that you shake your head to clear, the tiniest bit of hurt that lingers in your eyes. You look at her, and she raises her eyebrows at you, are you okay? It’s silent, but you know it’s what she’s asking.

Isn’t that a question. You don’t know why your stomach sinks when you see her with him. Again. Well, maybe you do know, you just don’t want to accept it. The feelings you’d had for Steve were meant to be long, long gone.

Only, since being home, you’ve realized they aren’t.

Even though things with Steve have been far from the same as before, even as when you were friends, he’s still Steve. He’s the kind boy you knew, only older. He still cares about the kids the way an older sibling would, he still puts his friends before anything, and he’s still the greatest person you know.

You simply shrug at Robin.

Then, Becky’s in front of you, “we already met, right?”

“Yeah, um, hi.”

“Hi. It’s nice to at least have a familiar face here.”

God, you want to dislike her so bad, but you really can’t. She’s kind, and she’s clearly making an effort to make a good impression. It’s annoying.

Steve knows he probably shouldn’t have brought her with him, but she’s been asking to meet his friends so frequently and he figured that Eddie’s gig would be as good a time as ever. At least here, there’s a crowd to hide in.

He really does like Becky, just not in the way he’s supposed to. He thinks he might’ve spent all of those feelings on you, and there’s no way he’s getting them back.

Eddie jumps down from the table and pulls Steve aside, “what are you doing?”

“Dunno what you mean.” He does, actually. Only, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Come on, man. You can't tell me you don’t see the way she looks at you,” Eddie’s not talking about Becky. He’s talking about you.

“She doesn’t look at me. Not like that.”

“Sometimes you really are an idiot, you know? She looks at you like you put the fucking moon in the sky, all melty and shit.”

“She used to look at me like that. I fucked it up. That’s gone, okay?”

“Is it gone for you?” Eddie says.

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve says. When he looks at you, however, it feels like it matters. A lot.

“Just saying. Think you might’ve brought the wrong lady.”

Steve already feels bad about what he’s trying to do with Becky. Seeing her to distract himself from you. He hates that even his friends are seeing through it. Is it really that obvious?

Eddie turns away to finish setting up with the band. Steve sees Becky talking to you of all people and he almost smacks himself right there. He’s so, so stupid. He walks over, into the mess he’s created.

“Hey, Ace,” he nods at you quickly, then turns to Becky. “Why don’t we go find a spot to sit?”

“We aren’t watching here?”

Steve looks between you and her quickly. Really, he’s just trying to save you from having to talk to her. He can still tell when you’re itching to get out of a conversation.

“Think the speakers might be too loud for you, babe.”

You miss whatever reply she gives him, stuck on his use of the word babe. The last time you heard it come from his mouth, he was saying it to you. It stings even though it shouldn’t.

It’s over. It’s been over. So why is it so hard to forget about it?

-

You never really got used to seeing Steve with Becky.

He didn’t bring her around often—maybe for your sake—but when he did, you’d find yourself keeping your distance. At least one person between you and them, like a buffer.

It felt like the progress you’d made with Steve, with not feeling so far away around him, was disappearing every time you saw her standing with him. You hated it, how you let things affect you.

A couple of weeks went on that way. Then, you got a phone call.

You’d been sitting on your bed, back against the headboard, doing absolutely nothing. The shrill ringing came from your bedside table, and you leaned over to pick it up mindlessly.

“Hello?”

“Ace.”

It’s Steve. He hasn’t called you since you’ve been back. His utterance of your nickname sounds like a breath of relief.

“Steve? What’s going on?”

“Can I come see you?”

“What?” You’re convinced you misheard him, or that something’s wrong. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, promise,” he pauses. “Well, I broke up with Becky. But I’m good, okay?”

He broke up with Becky? He broke up with Becky and decided to call you. You’re not quite sure what to do with that.

“You- did something happen?”

“No, no. Just- I’ll explain everything. Let me see you.”

It's hard to say no to him, and you can’t help but be worried. You say yes, a quiet word whispered into the phone.

“Thank you,” he says. “See you soon, Ace.”

“Bye.”

You barely get the word out before the sound of his phone being hung up echoes in your ear. It’s only then, in the silence of your room, that you notice your heart pounding, a heavy thump in your chest.

Steve knows it’s selfish to want to see you now, after he’s just broken up with someone. It’s the first actual breakup he’s had since being with you, and yet, he’s not even upset. He just wants to see you.

Sure, he liked Becky, but she could never really erase his thoughts of you. He felt awful about staying with her for the reasons he did. So, he broke it off.

Now, he's knocking on your window.

The tapping wouldn’t be so noticeable if you hadn’t been waiting for it. He never did like using the front door.

You open the window for him, move backwards a couple of steps to give him enough room to stumble inside, hair a little messy, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, devastatingly pretty.

It brings you back to high school. Steve, sneaking through your window at night just to fall asleep with you, his arms a safety net, his steady breathing a lullaby. Steve, peering at you through the glass with that grin of his. Steve.

“You know you can use the door, right?” You say.

“Not my style,” he takes a second to look at you. “Hi, Ace.”

You shift on your feet.

“Hi.”

“I know this is…” He trails off. There’s not really a single word for it. “Thanks for letting me come.”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You mean it. Even after everything, he’s Steve over it all. Your Steve, who was the greatest friend you ever had and, somehow, an even better boyfriend. He’s never been horrible to you; not even close.

Sure, he broke your heart and fell away from your life right after that, but you know him. You know there’s something he hasn’t told you about that, and if letting him in through your window again is a step closer to hearing it, you’re willing to take it.

“Even after what I did?”

“I don’t think you could ever really lose me, Steve.”

That hits him in the gut, a painful twist. Because he thought he did. Yes, he broke up with you (he regretted it very quickly), but he’d fought the urge to pick up the phone and call you at school more times than he can count.

“You’re a good person, Ace.”

He’s tiptoeing around whatever he wants to say to you. You talk softly, “why’d you want to see me?”

“I just needed to make sure you knew something.”

“What is it?”

“Just- I never kissed Becky. I haven’t kissed anybody since we, um, broke up.”

It’s the first time either of you have said it so plainly. There’s a wince on his face when he does. Small, but you catch it all the same.

“Robin said you were dating people, though.”

“Yeah, but I never kissed them. Ever. I couldn't.”

He slept with people—which was still hard—but to him, nothing feels as intimate as a kiss. He could never bring himself to cross that line with someone else. Not after how you would kiss him. The way everything else would melt away.

“I need you to know that. And I broke up with Becky because I couldn’t be with her without thinking of-” he stops, shakes his head, like he can’t get the words out. His eyes are holding onto yours when he says, “-someone else.”

“You climbed through my window just to tell me that?”

“I guess I did.”

He hadn’t thought about what comes next, what to do or say. Hell, he could barely even say what he meant in the first place. He wanted to say he’d been thinking of you, but the word got stuck in his throat. He hopes you can still read him enough to know what he meant.

“So, you were with Becky… why, exactly?”

“I thought- I don’t know. I thought I’d be able to push, um, someone else out of my mind if I was with her. I wasn’t, obviously.”

You’re practically speechless. Never would you have imagined that Steve was still thinking of you in any way, let alone so much so that he couldn’t fully give himself to anyone else.

Then again, you were never able to do that, either.

“I don’t know what to say,” you shrug, shoulder to your cheek.

“You don’t have to say anything, really,” he says, though there’s a sadness in his eyes that makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. You hate to be the one putting it there. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Steve. We aren’t together, I know that.”

He hasn’t been able to forget about that for a day. It’s like his life without you in it was a permanent winter. The snow never melting, the cold sinking into his bones. He hadn’t even realized it until you came back.

The wind picked up, frostbite ate away at him. Then, just like that, the sun was shining again. He hopes the snow will thaw soon.

He feels like an idiot right now. An idiot who can't spit out the right words and who can't leave you alone even when he knows he should.

“I should go.”

“Steve-”

“No, I’ll go. I’m sorry for dropping all of that on you.”

He’s turning his back to you, opening the window, worrying you all over again.

“You can stay.” Please, stay.

“I’m really sorry, Ace.”

Sorry for letting you go, sorry for disappearing, sorry for being a coward, sorry for fucking things up even now.

By the time you gather your wits enough to walk to the window, he’s crossing your lawn quickly. You watch him go until his figure fades into the night, the wind a low whisper in the air.

-

You do a lot of thinking that night, replaying the conversation over and over in your head. After what might be twenty minutes or two hours, you find you aren’t upset with Steve in the slightest. If anything, you’re worried.

And maybe, selfishly, a little hopeful, too.

It’s not even the breakup itself. It’s the way he spoke, the way his eyes lingered and his frustration seemed to soften just a little when he looked at you. It’s the way he had to make sure you knew he hasn’t kissed anyone since you, that he called and came over just to tell you that.

Maybe you should be angry, but all you feel when you think about Steve is something you’d convinced yourself was long gone. A feeling with wings, fluttering.

You decide that you need to talk to him again.

That decision has you walking through the door of Family Video early the next day, when you’re sure it won’t be busy. You had to double check with Robin that Steve was the one opening (you could practically see her knowing smirk through the phone), and sure enough, he stands behind the counter.

The bell above the door jingles, cutting through the silence of the store. Steve glances up to find you, rubbing his tired eyes to make sure you’re really there.

“Am I dreaming?” He says.

Steve was convinced you’d never want to see his face again after the shit he pulled last night. After dumping information on you that you hadn’t asked for, then leaving as soon as he got scared.

“If you are, so am I.”

“Robin’s not here.”

“I know. I wanted to talk to you, if that’s okay?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to after…” he trails off, like he’s embarrassed to have to bring it up.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I feel like I should be asking you.”

“Steve.”

His name still sounds the best in your voice, he thinks.

“I’m okay, promise. Last night, I guess I just- I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. While I was gone.” Every single day since I left, I missed you.

You’ve both felt it for a long time, but now’s the first time someone’s been brave enough to say it. The words settle in the air for a moment, hanging between you.

“I’m sorry, Ace. For everything.”

You want to fall into his arms as easily as you used to, to squeeze him and tell him it’s okay, it can be okay, if you try hard enough. The counter standing between you stops you from it, maybe for the better.

“Do you think- do you think maybe we can be friends again?”

I don’t know if I can just be your friend, he thinks. Not after knowing what it’s like to kiss you and wake up beside you, to touch you and love you. If it’s the only way to keep you around, though, he’ll give it all he has.

“I’d like that.”

Your smile is almost shy, but it’s there.

“We used to be better at this. Talking, I mean,” you say, trying to be light.

“We’ll get better again.”

It’s quiet again, save for the murmur of whatever movie Steve chose for the morning playing on the TV.

“I hope you know I haven’t been, like, holding a grudge, or anything. I forgave you a long time ago.”

You had to, even when it still hurt, even when you still wonder why things changed so quickly. He’s a human as much as you are, and letting things fester for years wouldn't do either of you any good.

Still, like any wound, it still bleeds from time to time.

“Doesn’t change that I’m sorry, Ace.”

You shy away from the sincerity in his stare, from the brown in his eyes that could so easily draw you back into him completely.

He bends to catch your eye, though, making sure you know he means it.

-

Letting yourself get close to Steve again is easy, it’s the friendship that’s hard.

He’s a good friend, you see it in his interactions with everyone around you. He’s a good friend and still, you can’t stop thinking about the kind of boyfriend he is. Caring and loving, full of touches to give, a hand on you whenever it could be. You miss the warmth of that hand.

You keep that to yourself , though, because things are better. So much better.

You and Steve don’t avoid each other anymore, the smiles aren’t so forced or small, the words not so careful. The only subject you stay away from is the breakup, and even then, you don’t think about it so much now that he’s around again. You think about everything before that. The good and the in love, sticky and sweet.

Tonight, he’s convinced you to come along and chauffeur the kids to the arcade. In turn, you’ve convinced him to go inside with you.

The various neon lights bathe your skin, blues and oranges, pinks and greens. You can't help but think they glow a little nicer on Steve’s face.

“What’s the first game gonna be?” You turn to look at him over your shoulder as you walk between the rows of games.

“Your choice, Ace. This was your idea.”

“Fine by me,” you shrug a shoulder, grinning.

Falling into conversation with Steve proves to still feel natural. You’ve gotten the chance to spend time with him more since you talked that morning at Family Video, and it’s paid off. Light teasing and check-ins are what they used to be before.

The part that still makes your heart beat faster, almost like it’s trying to find his, is what hangs in the silence. There's knowledge there; the silence used to be comfortable, and now, it’s full of questions and tension. What’s too much? What crosses the line of friendship you’ve had to draw?

If you’re being honest, being Steve’s friend almost makes you miss him more. You had to do it this way, though, if only to protect yourself from losing him ever again.

You’ve been pushing away any thoughts of Steve as a boyfriend as far away as you can.

“Okay,” you stop in front of Pac-Man.

“A classic,” he nods, putting change into the slot. “Ladies first.”

“Scared, Harrington?”

“Of you?” He shakes his head. “Never.”

Of what he feels for you, maybe.

You play well, and Steve watches your hands move as you do. He watches your eyes as they flit about the screen, your tongue poking between your lips in concentration. Watches, still, when you throw your head back and groan when you lose.

“My turn,” he says, bumping you over with his hips.

Despite his confidence, Steve loses really, really fast.

“It’s broken,” he declares.

“It’s not,” you say. “Try again.”

“You just like to see me lose.”

You wiggle your way in front of him so that his arms cage you in, one on either side of you, leaning on the game. “I’ll show you.”

He hopes he isn’t breathing as hard as he thinks he is. He can feel the ghost of your back against his chest, so, so close. He slips another coin into the slot and lets you guide his hands to the controls.

His hands are just as warm as you remember. Solid and softer than they look. You refrain from interlocking your fingers with his and focus on guiding him through the game. It’d be so easy to hold his hand, though. Muscle memory.

This time around, even when the screen tells him ‘game over,’ Steve feels like he’s won something at the slightest bit of contact you’d initiated.

Dustin finds the two of you, still playing Pac-Man, and taps his wrist. Duty calls.

After dropping the kids off, the car much quieter, you let yourself look at Steve as he drives. His side profile, the slope of his nose and line of his jaw, the way he squints at road signs.

“You should be wearing your glasses,” you say. You’re not even sure if he still has them.

“You know I hate those things.”

It’s true, you do know that. He barely even wore them around you when you’d been dating. They made him shy, even though you told him he looks pretty either way, any way.

You find that you still know a lot of things.

You still know him. You know that he owns a pair of reading glasses. You know that he scratches the back of his neck when he’s nervous. You know that he knuckles at his eyes when he doesn’t get enough sleep. You know that he sunburns easiest on his nose, cheeks, and shoulders. You know him. All the small things, some he may not even know himself.

You might’ve missed some stuff, but really, you still know him. You still love him, too.

That realization hits you, a gust of wind strong enough to knock you off-balance if you weren’t sitting. You’ve been trying and trying to keep it all away. Yet, here you are, looking at the strand of hair that falls over Steve's forehead, realizing you love him all over again in the passenger seat of his BMW.

Maybe you never really stopped.

“Ace, did you hear me?”

“Hm?” You blink and suddenly he’s looking at you, too. And the car’s not moving. When did that happen?

“You zoned out on me, I think,” he runs a hand through his hair, pushing that strand you'd been focused on back into place. “We’re here.”

Your house, he means.

“Sorry. Thank you for driving,” you say, reaching for the handle and popping the door open. You bonk your head in your haste to get out.

“Shit! You okay?” He says, his hand reaching for you even though you’re too far to touch.

“Yup! Never better.”

Terrified by the four letter word that hasn’t left your head since it came back in, you can’t help but try to get away from Steve, from the boy who’s drawn the feeling from you in the first place without even trying. You hurry to the door with a rushed ‘bye!’

Steve stares at your front door even after you’ve closed it, eyebrows scrunched and mouth in a confused pout. He wonders what you were thinking about as he tried to grab your attention the whole way home.

-

Steve’s made a habit of visiting you at work.

If you’re working during the day, he’ll drive over on his lunch breaks and be sure to be seated in your section. If you’re working evenings, he’ll make some excuse about not wanting to cook dinner and still, he requests your section.

He‘s been coming so often that the hostesses don’t even wait for him to ask, they just nod and seat him at one of your tables.

You’ve had a lot of time to let your rediscovered love for Steve simmer, but it’s always there, making you smile like an idiot when you see him, making you stop yourself from reaching for his hand whenever it’s close enough.

It was naive of you to think you could limit yourself to friendly feelings for him. You know that now.

Walking out of the back, you find him sitting at what has become his usual table. A small round one, usually for two. The chair across from him empty. You like that better than when Becky was the one sitting in it.

“I’m starting to think you have no kitchen at all,” you say, standing behind the empty seat, leaning a hand on top of it.

“You caught me.”

“Seriously, you know you don’t have to come here to see me.”

“I want to come here to see you.”

Really, at this point, Steve thinks he’d be happy to visit you anywhere. Because of that, he’s definitely spending way too much money at Enzo’s.

“Okay then,” you tuck your hair behind your ear, then grab your notepad to write down his order. “What’ll it be this time?”

As much as Steve wishes you could sit down with him, he knows you have a job to do, so he gives you his order and takes any minute of conversation you can give him.

He watches you tend to the other tables you have, your smile and the way you talk, your mannerisms and the pattern of your steps. Often, he wonders if he’d still be sitting here, watching you with something in his eyes that can only be described as longing, if he never broke up with you that day. He likes to think he would be, only he’d be allowed to kiss you goodbye the way he so often wants to.

Maybe it’s wishful thinking to believe he could get to do that again, one day.

Since he felt your hands over his those weeks ago at the arcade, he’s decided he’ll do whatever it takes to win you back. He’ll wait as long as he needs to, and do his best to prove that he won’t hurt you again.

Steve’s never stopped loving you, not for a second, and seeing your face again only reminded him of that. Being your friend again only amplified it.

Even worse, all of your friends are well aware of this. They never let him hear the end of it.

“Here you go,” you say, putting his food in front of him.

He shoots you a quick smile, “thank you.”

“‘Course. And don’t bother paying this time, it’s on me.”

“Don’t do that, I’m paying.”

“I already did it, okay? Just shut up and let me.”

When you walk away, he shakes his head and smiles at your retreating figure. Classic Ace, he thinks, so insistent on doing nice things. Yeah, he’ll wait years if he has to.

You chat with him when you can, telling him about a customer who’d yelled at you earlier in your shift over something so small, you can’t even remember why they were angry in the first place. He laughed through your story and offered to find the person and beat them up for you.

You reminded him that he usually loses fights.

A stern talking to, then, he’d said.

You giggled. Laughs like that came easy with Steve.

You were busy when he left, but when you went over to clean his table you’d found enough money left behind to pay for his food and give you a tip. You rolled your eyes at that. That’s Steve, always being the one to take care of everyone else. He can’t even let you pay for one damm meal.

He’d also left a note scrawled on a Family Video sticky note.

Thanks for letting me bug you again. Hope you’re not sick of me! -Steve x (and keep your money, please).

You folded it into a neat square and put it in your back pocket. This was a habit of his, too; leaving notes behind after he’d leave. So far, you’ve kept them all, in that same shoebox in your closet from high school.

You’re absolutely hopeless.

-

Steve didn’t have an excuse to call you, he just really wanted to see you. Or, hear your voice, at least.

“Hello?” You picked up after a couple rings.

“Ace. You busy today?”

“Mmm apart from laying down all day, no.”

“You wanna come lay down all day here?”

If he couldn’t hear you then, you would drop your face into your pillow and squeal. Instead, you press your free hand to your cheek and try to suppress your stupid grin.

“I guess I can shuffle some things around.”

“You’re awful,” he says. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yep.”

A click and it’s quiet again.

It’s not even half an hour later that you’re knocking on the Harrington’s door. Steve opens up quickly (he’d been standing near the door waiting for you) and moves aside to let you in.

Steve scans your outfit as you walk ahead of him. You’re clad in slouchy sweats. He thinks you look beautiful. He thinks it all of the time, but there’s something about you being comfortable enough with him not to dress up that warms him from the inside out.

It reminds him of how you used to walk around his house, whenever his parents weren’t there, in your underwear and his softest t-shirt.

Baby steps, he thinks.

“Are you hungry?” He asks as you plop down onto his couch.

“I'm okay. A little tired.”

“I did ruin your plans of laying around, didn't I?”

“Ruin’s not the right word,” you say. You’d much rather be in his company than buried in your bed, anyway.

He sits next to you after turning on the TV, letting whatever’s playing stay on. There’s a respectable distance between you, your thighs close, but not touching.

“Are you happy you came back here?” Steve turns his head toward you. Here, as in Hawkins. Here, as in with him.

Your head pivots toward him, cheek on your shoulder. Your eyes find his. “Yes. Really happy.”

“Me too.”

There are a million things you could say, but then, in that moment, it feels like you don’t have to. Something silent is being shared. You look back at the TV and sink into the cushions.

As time goes on, your eyes grow heavier, blinking slowly trying to stay awake. Steve notices when your head falls forward a little and you force it back up.

“You’re tired.”

“Worked the closing shift last night.”

“You can lay down. I meant it when I said you

could do that here.”

“I’ll fall asleep.”

“That’s kinda the point.”

You frown at him. “But then you’ll be all alone.”

“Just lay down, Ace.”

You roll your eyes but do it anyway. You’d actually been ready to nap when Steve called, but figured sleep could wait.

He tries not to overthink it when he gently places a hand on the side of your head, urging you to use his lap as your pillow. You go easily and blame it on your sleepy mind.

Instinctively, once you’re settled with your cheek on his thigh, Steve pets your hair from your face. He pulls his hand back, afraid of overstepping, but you miss his touch.

“No, don’t. Feels nice.”

“Okay,” he almost whispers.

Steve’s hand goes back to your hair, pushing it from your face, letting his fingers get tangled in it before pulling them back and doing it again. You fall asleep quickly, surrounded by Steve’s scent.

You nap for about forty minutes. Steve’s hand doesn’t stop at all, afraid that you’d wake up. He hasn’t paid much attention to the TV. Instead, he’s been tracing the details of your face over and over with his eyes.

Your eyelashes kissing the skin of your under eyes, the slope of your nose, the way your lips are slightly parted and pouting. He’s known it for years now, but you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

All soft and, by his standard, absolutely perfect.

Self-indulgently, he lets his hand wander from your hair, the back of his index finger tracing a delicate line from your forehead, down your nose, and across your cheek. You stir and he feels guilty.

“Did I wake you?”

You blink your eyes open and squint, turning so you lay on your back rather than your side, looking up at him. “Nuh-uh,” you say, even though he did.

If you were woken up like that every day, well, you’d become a morning person.

“Liar.”

“Am not.” He shakes his head, you yawn. “How long did I sleep?”

“Not long. You feel better?”

“Much,” you nod, even though there’s a kink in your neck from the way you had it perched on his lap. You don’t care, it was the best sleep you’d had for a while.

You sit up and stretch until something cracks.

“Thanks for being my pillow.”

“Steve Harrington, human pillow, at your service.”

You push his shoulder lightly, “dork.”

You both laugh lightly. The sound fades when you realize how close your faces are. You reach up and brush the skin under his eye with your thumb.

“Eyelash,” you explain.

“Make a wish.”

When you were young, you wished on every birthday cake candle, every shooting star, that you’d find your person. Then, in your time with Steve, you wished to keep it. Now, as you blow the lash off your finger, you wish to have it back.

“Done.”

“What’d you wish for?”

“If it ever comes true, I’ll tell you.”

He nods, the tips of your noses brush. You can't stop your eyes from flicking to his mouth with him this close, you can feel his breaths, warm puffs of air against your skin.

Steve’s hand creeps up to cradle the back of your neck so gently you could cry. He uses it to guide you forward until your forehead is pushed against his.

“Steve.”

The whisper of his name is what snaps the rubber band. Steve tips your head up and kisses you.

It’s everything you remembered, and everything you’d forgotten, too. His lips are still soft, they still fit with yours the way puzzle pieces click together. Over time, you forgot how his feelings poured out of him when he’d kiss you. Now, he’s shy with it, slow-moving.

He pulls away, just for a second, to look at you, to check that you’re okay. You chase his mouth and he’s a goner, diving back in and inhaling deep at the feeling.

You can feel yourself melting into him, getting lost in the press of his lips against yours.

It hits you that Steve hasn’t kissed anyone since he was with you. That it’s been years since he’s last done this. I haven’t kissed anybody since we, um, broke up.

This is a big thing. Kissing Steve again is a big and scary thing. His free hand laying itself on your thigh jolts you out of it. You pull away, breathing heavy.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, pulling his hands away. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s just- I shouldn’t have done that.”

You’re supposed to be pushing your feelings aside. You’re supposed to be friends, that’s it. You’re not supposed to let it get to this point again, because you know how it feels when it ends. That can’t happen again.

“No, Ace. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t be sorry, okay?” You stand up, almost dizzy. “I’m just gonna go, I think.”

“Hey, come on. Stay. It won’t happen again.”

“I just need to, um, clear my head.”

You hurry to the door, trying to slip your shoes on as fast as possible. Steve catches your wrist loosely as you reach for the door.

“You can talk to me. You don’t have to leave.”

“I need to think, Steve,” you open the door. This time, he lets you. Before you close it you turn to him, “I’m not mad, I promise.”

All he can do is nod slowly and stare at the door long after you’ve closed it.

-

You meant it: you’re not mad. Well, not at Steve. You’re mad at yourself, really, for letting yourself fall for him again, for making yourself remember exactly how it feels to kiss him.

You’re not mad at Steve and yet, you haven’t been alone with him since that day. It’s for your own good, you hope. You don’t want to let yourself be with him again because you know what it feels like to lose him. It hurts and it sucks and you’d rather love him quietly than feel that ever again.

It’s game night at the Wheeler’s now, and so far, you’ve lost pretty much every game. You find it doesn’t bother you all that much when you’re around such good people.

As Nancy shuffles Uno cards, you stand, “skip me this round. I gotta pee.”

“Thank you for announcing that,” Dustin says.

“You’re welcome, Dusty,” you ruffle his hair on your way to the bathroom.

Once you’re washing your hands, you inspect yourself in the mirror. Your hair’s frizzier than you’d like and your mascara’s smudged under your eyes. You use your pinky, wet with tap water, to wipe it away.

You unlock and open the door and find Steve leaning against the wall in the hallway. Not expecting anyone to be there, you jump.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, laughing lightly.

“Why’re you standing there?”

“Waiting for the bathroom.”

You don’t point out that there are more than one bathrooms in the Wheeler’s house. Instead, you move out of the doorway and let him go in. Only, he doesn’t move.

“Okay, I lied,” he confesses. “I was waiting for you.”

“Oh. Well, here I am.”

“Yeah,” he looks you over, like he can’t help it. “Will you come home with me? So we can talk about…”

As much as you wish you could just forget about that kiss, you can’t. It hasn’t left your mind for more than five minutes at a time. Often, you find yourself pressing your fingers to your mouth, searching for the ghost of his. Besides, how can you say no to Steve saying the words ‘will you come home with me’?

“Okay,” you say quietly, then, more sure, “okay, sure.”

You walked there, and though you’d usually much prefer the comfort of the BMW, you can’t help but worry about what he wants to say the rest of the night.

Once you’ve said your goodbyes and walk towards Steve’s car, you can almost feel Robin’s knowing smile as she watches you climb into the passenger seat.

The drive feels like a dream in the sense that you blinked and it ended. You suppose time can fly when you’re lost in thought, in what-ifs.

You only realize you’ve made it to Steve’s house when you hear the click of the gearshift and the quiet of the engine shutting off that follows. You follow him inside, watching the way he fiddles with his keys, his hand flicking on the lights inside.

He leads you to his bedroom. He knows he could’ve stopped in the kitchen or the living room, but he’s most comfortable in the only room that feels completely his in the house. He needs to be comfortable for this.

You sit on the edge of his bed, and he leans on the dresser across from you.

There’s an anticipation almost humming in the air. Who will speak first, what will they say.

“So-”

“Listen-”

You speak at the same time.

“You first,” Steve offers.

“I’m sorry for running out like that. I was just overwhelmed, I guess. Had to think.”

“Don’t be sorry, please. I feel like I should be apologizing to you.”

For so much more than just that kiss. Then again, he’s not really sorry for kissing you, he’s only sorry for possibly hurting you with it.

“We were doing so good.” He furrows his brows at you in question. “At just being friends.”

“I don’t think I could ever look at you as just a friend, Ace. Not after knowing what it’s like to have you.”

You want to tell him you feel the same, you want to tell him so bad. The words are stuck in your throat. You’re so afraid, so nervous, for what could happen if you try this again.

“Do you regret kissing me?” You ask instead.

“I know I should, but I can’t regret anything with you.”

“I don’t regret it, either.”

The room seems to shrink, the air thicken. Steve’s hands clench on the edge of the dresser, holding himself back, almost.

You don’t think you want him to hold back. You want to slap yourself for it, but you’ve missed the way his kiss melted you every day since you felt it. Maybe, if you can’t tell him, you can show him how you feel.

“Kiss me again,” you say.

“What?”

He must have heard you wrong. Only, when you repeat yourself, he knows he didn’t.

“You’re sure?” He checks.

All you can do is nod, almost eagerly. He pushes off from the dresser and stands in front of you. Your knees brush against the fabric of his jeans as he moves closer. His hands gently cup your face, tilt it up so you’re looking at him.

His eyes flick between yours, and when you nudge your cheek into his hand, like an encouragement, he bends down to place his lips over yours.

It starts gently, like the last one. Steve’s lips glide over yours slowly, making sure you don’t want to pull away. It feels like high school and sneaking through windows, like popcorn kisses at the movies and the feeling of Skull Rock behind your back. It feels like the past and yet, there’s an emotion there that wasn’t before.

Longing, knowing what it feels like to lose this.

It’s gentle until your hands snake their way under Steve’s shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin, the sunshine pouring out of him. That’s when his hold on your face becomes a bit more firm, one of his thumbs pushing on your chin to get you to open it for him.

That’s when the dam seems to break.

Steve kisses you deeper and deeper, pushing himself closer and closer until you’re being laid down on the bed. He pulls away from you, his lips kiss-swollen and pink, to give you space to push yourself up to his pillows.

He tugs his shirt off before climbing over you, his hands digging into the mattress on either side of your head, his brown eyes darkened.

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yes,” you nod, “I missed you.”

You wind your arms around his neck and pull him back to you, his mouth finding yours easily. It’s been a long time since you’ve done this with Steve, but the rhythm of it all comes easily. It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve spent so long learning what they like.

He kisses you enough to feel dazed, your head a jumble of SteveSteveSteve and your hips canting towards his unconsciously. He’d been holding his weight off of you before that, but feeling you brush against him had him pushing his hips against yours, pinning you to the bed.

You broke the kiss only to catch your breath, and Steve took the time to push wet kisses down your jawline, to your neck, breathing heavy in between them.

Selfishly, possessively, he tugs the neckline of your shirt down and sucks a hickey into your collarbone, licking over it when he’s done. Your hands have buried themselves in his hair at some point, and you feel his groan against your skin when you tug.

He moves down still, pushing your shirt up to bunch underneath your bra and peck his way across your stomach.

“Steve,” you almost whine.

He peeks up at you, “yeah, baby?”

Baby. He hasn’t called you that in years. The sound of the pet name in his voice is enough to have the dampness in your panties grow.

“You’re teasing me.”

“You used to like that,” he pouts.

“It’s been too long. Please.”

He’s trying to act composed on the outside when really, the word ‘please’ leaving your mouth is enough to have him push his crotch into the mattress.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says. His hand pauses on the waistband of your pants, “can I?”

“Yes.”

He unbuttons them and tugs down the zipper, sits up on his knees to pull them down and off your legs, your socks and underwear follow.

Steve can’t believe this is happening, he can’t believe you’re there, on his bed, looking so pretty for him. He resists the urge to pinch himself.

You grow shy under his stare, his eyes focused where you’re embarrassingly wet all because of him. You try to shut your legs, but he stops you with a hand on your knee, “you’re beautiful, Ace. You don’t need to hide. It’s just me.”

You’re not sure how to tell him the reason you care so much is because it’s him of all people. Steve who you’ve known for so long, Steve who you used to have, like this. Steve, who you love.

He lays down between your legs, his arms wrapping around your thighs, thumbs running back and forth soothingly across your skin. He kisses up your thighs and pauses when his breath hits your cunt. He glances up at you for permission.

You nod, a hand finding one of his on your leg and weaving your fingers together.

You try to keep your head up to be able to see him, but as soon as he runs his tongue up your slit it falls back into the pillow, a gasp escaping you. You squeeze his hand in yours.

Steve works you quickly, so much so that it’s clear he hasn’t forgotten a single thing about you.

His tongue runs over you again and again, your slick surely all over his mouth. When it hits the bead of your clit, your free hand is in his hair again. He grunts into you at the pull, and you can’t help but moan at the feeling of it all.

When your hand squeezes his even tighter, Steve moves his free hand to your entrance, his mouth hit around your clit. He works a finger in, then a second. He curves them and searches until he finds the spot that makes you whimper out a noise he wants to hear again.

“Steve,” his name a breathy moan.

“Go on, baby. I can feel it. You wanna come?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“I've got you.”

He works his fingers quicker, puts his mouth back on you and flicks his tongue and just like that you’re being pushed over the edge, your eyes squeezing shut and your hands holding him even tighter.

He watches as you come down, his cheek against your thigh, “so pretty.”

You manage a lazy smile, taking your hand out of his hair, “sorry. Did that hurt?”

“I liked it. You know that.”

He moves back up until his face is above yours, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on him.

Your hands trail down his back, his muscles shifting as he holds himself up. They land on the waistband of his jeans, tracing it around to his stomach, letting your fingers go further, feeling the skin just above his underwear.

You pull back from his mouth to glance down to where your fingers run back and forth over his skin, pausing to undo the button of his jeans.

“Who’s teasing now?” He says, voice low in your ear.

A shrug is your reply, followed by his zipper being pulled down slowly. His head bends to watch your hands work his pants and boxers down enough to free him, his cock hard and pink at the tip, pretty as ever.

You wrap a hand around him, “better?”

“Much.”

You work him slowly, like you’re trying to remember the feeling of him, your hand pausing at the tip to let your thumb run over it.

Steve tried to remember the way your hand felt against him when he was desperate and alone. Now, having you again, he knows his imagination could never do you justice. You’re soft in a way he never could be.

When you squeeze him a bit tighter, moving a bit quicker, he drops his head onto your shoulder, groaning.

“Ace.”

“Uh-huh?”

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna come,” he picks his head up, sets his eyes on yours, “I don’t wanna come like this.”

“Feels nice in my hand, though.”

“I can make it feel a whole lot better, if you’ll let me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want you, Ace.”

“I want you, too.”

He pecks your lips quickly before standing to take his pants off fully. You take your shirt and bra off at the same time. It makes you nervous to be naked in front of him again, and the way he looks at you doesn’t help. It’s a searing gaze, almost burning your skin.

“Look at you,” he whispers, almost like he was saying it to himself.

He climbs over you once more when you make hands at him. His skin is warm, mirroring the way you feel all over. Steve tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, trails his hand down your neck, to your chest. He cups you in his palm, squeezing lightly then letting a thumb run over your nipple.

You bite back a whimper.

His mouth gives the tit that isn’t in his hand attention, pecking and sucking and licking.

“Steve,” you push your hips up.

“Sorry, baby. Missed these girls, too.”

You roll your eyes.

He kisses your cheek and takes the hand off your chest to hold himself, running his head up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. When he pauses at your entrance, he looks at you.

“You’re still okay? Still want this?”

You nod, hands running in circles on the back of his shoulders, “yes. I’m ready.”

He’s big, and the stretch of him pushing into you is sharper now that you’re not used to it. He soothes you with sweet words and soft kisses to your neck.

Halfway, he checks in, “good?”

You wrap your legs around his thighs and pull him in the rest of the way, whining when his pelvis is against yours.

“Fuck,” he says into the skin of your neck, just below your ear. “You’re heaven, Ace.”

“Move, Steve,” your hands tighten on his shoulders. “Please.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, pulling back slowly only to push in again. You can feel everything, you think. Maybe because it’s been so long or because sex with someone you love is better than any other sex. Maybe it’s just Steve.

He’s all over you. His hair tickling your chin, his mouth open against your neck, breaths hot against your skin. He’s in your mind and in your heart and in you, deeper than anyone else. You feel so full. Of him, of emotion, of memories of nights you used to have just like this one.

Full of him in every way.

“God, you’re perfect,” he says. “There’s nobody like you. No one, Ace.”

“I-” love you, you almost say. “Steve.”

The pitch of your voice tells him to go faster, and he lifts his head to see your face. Mouth agape, soft moans and breaths spilling out, eyebrows scrunched, eyes falling shut when he finds your spot.

“Open your eyes,” he says, softly. “Come on, baby.”

You do, blinking them open and looking up at him. His hair is a mess around his head, sweaty strands falling over his forehead, his cheeks are flushed pink and you’re sure they’d be warm to the touch.

He drops his forehead against yours, your sounds and breaths mingling between your mouths, your noses nudging against each other with every push of his hips.

Your arms go around his neck, one hand tangling itself in the hair at the nape of his neck. You’re getting closer and closer and by the way his movements grow just a bit faster, a bit sloppier, he is, too.

“Ace. Baby, you’re there, yeah? I can feel you squeezing me,” his lips brush yours as he speaks.

“So close, Steve.”

He’s holding himself up on one elbow, trailing his free hand down to rub circles over your clit. “Come on.”

You finish with a cry of his name, your eyes squeezing shut. It’s overwhelming, the feelings that blind you. The pleasure and the affection, the heat and the love you really don’t think you could imagine. So much so that tears slip from the corners of your eyes.

He’s not far behind, “shit. Where do you want me?”

In your haze, you can barely manage a reply, “tummy.”

He pulls out and jerks himself until you can feel him coming on your skin. He moans and it’s a beautiful sound. You run your hands over his skin through it all, grounding him and yourself.

Your foreheads are still together, slick with sweat.

“Fuck,” he pecks you once, twice, three times. “You okay?”

“Really good.”

“Will you stay?”

You hadn’t even thought of leaving. You wouldn’t dream of it. Not now, at least, in your post-orgasm daze where fears and worries don’t reach you.

“Mhm,” you hum your agreement.

Steve’s grin splits his cheeks, wide and toothy and infectious enough to make you smile, too.

“I’ll be right back,” he rolls away from you, standing beside the bed. Before walking away, he bends to peck you again. He heads to the bathroom after that.

You note the freckles that dot his back and shoulders as he goes. A constellation you never forgot; burned in your memory. One you used to play connect the dots with in the mornings.

He comes back with a wet cloth, wiping his come from your stomach and then cleaning you up as gently as possible, giving a soft apology when you whimper in sensitivity.

He tosses the cloth aside when he’s done and searches his drawers for a clean pair of boxers. He tugs them on then finds a baggy sleep shirt for you. You watch him the whole time, the way he moves and the way the streetlights seeping in through the window light his skin.

Coming back to you, he tells you to sit up and puts the shirt over your head. He didn’t even have to ask, he knows what you like to sleep in. When you look at the shirt he picked, you find it’s one that used to be your favorite.

You bring the fabric to your nose and hide your grin in it.

Steve pulls the blankets over you, then himself when he lays down beside you. He doesn’t even hesitate before tugging you closer with an arm around your waist.

“I really missed you, Ace.”

“Missed you, Steve,” you reply sleepily.

He kisses your forehead.

You fall asleep easily, Steve’s fingers running back and forth over your skin, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

-

Steve wakes up before you do.

You’ve both moved in your sleep. Now, you lay on your stomach, face turned towards him and cheek squished into the pillow. He lays on his side, propped up by his elbow, looking at you.

He looks at you, asleep and pretty, and wonders how he could ever give you up.

His free hand tucks your hair behind your ear, away from your face, brushes his knuckles across your cheeks as lightly as possible. He moves to your arm and traces the words ‘I love you’ into your skin.

He draws the words over and over, only pulling his hand away when you rouse.

You breathe in deep before opening your eyes, moving your head on the pillow to look over at Steve properly. His eyes are already set on you, puffy with sleep and full of something you’re not sure you’re ready to face.

“Hi,” his voice is different in the morning, lower.

“Hi.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” you stretch your legs and turn onto your side. “You?”

“Better than I have in a while, actually.”

You can tell that there’s something he wants to say, that he’s thinking of the words. It makes you nervous, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. Maybe he regrets it. Almost worse, maybe he doesn’t.

“Can I say something?”

“Steve-”

“No, let me say it. If you hate it, we can forget about it, okay?”

His eyes are soft, pleading. You can tell that whatever it is, it really matters to him and there’s no way you can ignore that.

“Okay.”

“I still love you.”

His words hang in the air, your chests both rise and fall a bit quicker, hearts beating faster in tandem.

You’ve been dreaming of him saying it to you, and yet, hearing it out loud, you can’t help but be terrified. You love him, you know you do, and it scares you. It’ll hurt worse the second time around if you lose him.

“I still love you,” he continues in your silence. “I miss you so much, Ace. I want to do it again. I want to be with you and do it right.”

“I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You didn’t. You won’t. I’ve thought of you every day since you left,” his hand finds yours atop the sheets, fingers linking. “I didn’t want to break up with you, and I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Why did you?”

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second. Squeezes your hand, too.

“I thought I was doing the right thing. You were going off to school and I’d be here and I didn’t want to hold you back. I wanted you to go and to do it fully.”

Your heart pinches in your chest. Steve really believed he’d been doing you a favor by letting you go.

“It hurt for a long time, Steve. I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you again, Ace,” he swipes away the tear that falls from your cheek. “Just answer one thing for me?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you love me?”

It’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“Of course I love you, Steve. I would’ve stayed if you asked me to.”

“That’s why I did it,” his thumb runs over your cheek gently. “I couldn't let you give it all up for me. But you’re back now, and I love you and you love me. Let me try again.”

You want to say yes. So badly, you want to be with him. So why can't you just say it? It’s like glue’s been dropped down your throat, sticking all the right words in it so that nothing useful comes out. You try anyway.

“I’m just scared.”

You shut your eyes.

“Will you look at me?” You do, and right then it’s hard to feel scared anymore. He’s looking at you like he’s never been more sure of anything. “You’re my forever. I know you are. Let me show you.”

You focus on his hand in yours, his touch on your face. You focus on the fact that this is Steve. Steve who you love, who you know you want to be with past all the fear and worry.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Okay? Like, you’ll be my girl again?”

“Yes, yeah.”

His grin spreads wide enough to have his eyes crinkling at the corners. He rushes forward to kiss you, three quick pecks broken by your smiles.

“Can I tell you something?” You ask him, suddenly brave, like his kiss fixed everything.

“Anything.”

“I wished for you. On that eyelash. The day we kissed.”

He kisses you again for that.

༄

thank u for reading! if you enjoyed it please consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought it would mean a bunch <3

[l-in-the-light]

Trafalgar Law - Bad Manners edition

I got inspired by the reblog I got and I thought: damn, this would be fun to write, so let's go!

We all know our Surgeon of Death isn't exactly known for having good manners and is often called rude. So let's count his crimes against the etiquette, just for fun! And at the end of it I will leave you all a surprise.

List of Trafalgar Law's feats in rudeness (feel free to provide more evidence!)

Two middle fingers (one for Kid and one for Doflamingo, people he hates)

No greetings (hi, hello, bye, take care, good luck, welcome back, they're all nonexistent in his vocabulary)

Blatant and obnoxious lies (we will never forget the "this is my vacation house now")

Telling people to shut up (justice for Chopper!)

Never saying "please" and "thank you" (at least not on screen, with one notable exception)

Ordering people around (with exception of alliances)

Not introducing his crew properly

Using blatantly censorable speech (so far only Doflamingo deserved that)

Throwing empty threats of death

Calling certain people idiots

Other sins of uncertain nature:

using "ya" to adress people instead of usual "san", "kun" etc. (can be seen as rude, but at the same time just as quirky)

cheeky smirks

complaining (lots and lots of complaining), scolding and shouting

throwing bowl at the ground that one time (which I still think is his trauma response, he never throws anything besides that one time)

Things he could be doing but for some reason never does, despite people lowkey expecting him to:

being arrogant

speaking to people like they're stupid or patronizing over them

never apologizing (he actually always apologizes and takes responsibility for actions of other people he works with. He apologized to Sanji when his plan went astray and he endangered the crew in Dressrosa, he apologized to Kin for Luffy and Zoro doing the Okobore town shanenigans in Wano as well)

killing people (never happened on-screen. The closest to that was Vergo, but that was indirect and Law left him with a snail, so he could actually get help if he wanted to)

swearing (it is a shonen manga after all lol)

not listening or talking over someone (come on, he even let Luffy steal the bribe call he made to Doflamingo!)

refusing help when asked for it directly (doing support in battle also counts. he suggested leaving the kids behind in Punk Hazard, but it was a suggestion. In the end he still couldn't refuse)

butting into other crew's personal matters (he always asks Luffy first so he can communicate about staff to his own crew)

laughing at people (or laughing in general)

expecting to receive gratefulness (with the exception of Bellamy, but that's because the other blames him for saving his life. Other than that he never even waits long enough to hear a thanks)

We all know he wasn't always like this. He was a very polite child adressing his parents with "otousama" and "okaasama". The only time he said "please" on screen was when he asked Vergo to help Cora-san. I think you can imagine why that was the last time he ever said the word. Not only it was extremely difficult for him to utter that word after Flevance, his request was also met with the most bitter conclusion. I think he lost faith and trust in asking people for help (as well as lost faith in many, many things).

Being accused of "bad manners" and using "-san" honorific brings back bad memories for Law.

Now Law's reaction to Kid doesn't seem that out of place anymore. Is it enough to justify it? Probably not, but it's nice to know everything has a reason.

And now the promised surprise:

Despite everything, Law still remembers his proper table manners and takes off his hat at mealtime. You have all those bad-mannered boys here and Law, the good boy, remembering it's rude to eat with a hat on. Or maybe it's even a sign of trust and respect, two things he reserves for people who have actually earned it.

Take that! *throws the finger Phoenix Wright style*

My conclusion: Trafalgar Law's rudeness, not counting very colorful speech that one time and two middle fingers, and some empty threats, isn't really that outstanding in general. I think most of his bad manners are shared with Strawhats (for example, many of them don't use proper greetings, regularly shout at each other to shut up and call each other idiots). Actually, compared to most of the guys in Strawhats, Law comes off as not really that oustanding or even pretty decently mannered which is kinda funny lol.