#just been stuck on exactly what to do for the next chapter and changed my mind three times now?? its dire i just need to bite the bullet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

freedomfireflies · 8 months ago

Text

One Day*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where you still hate Harry, but turns out, you might be having his baby.

Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, spanking, brief choking, slight angst (happy ending), mentions of pregnancy and babies! *Please be so gentle with yourself and only continue if you feel comfortable! 💞*

“I’m late.”

“For what?”

You huff. “I’m late,” you repeat, gesturing frantically toward your hips. “A week late. Which I know can happen, but…not really to me, so…I’m late. And I think we’re fucked.”

Harry blinks. Looks down at your stomach. Looks up at your face. “Oh.”

“Oh?” You rear back. “That’s all you have to say for yourself is oh?”

He lifts his left shoulder in nonchalant shrug before flopping down onto your sofa. “I don’t know. What did you want me to say?”

“I…I don’t know,” you huff. “I kind of thought you’d…yell. Or freak out or something. Or ask me if I’m keeping it.”

“Do you want me to freak out?”

“Well…no. Not really.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I…I don’t know, I don’t even…I’m not even sure if I am yet or not.”

“Okay.” He nudges his glasses up before crossing his arms. “Well did you get a test?”

You glance toward the pharmacy bag still sitting on your kitchen counter. It’s been mocking you ever since you picked it up. Staring you down, sticking out its tongue. One, tiny little box that’ll determine the next chapter of your life. It’s almost infuriating.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I, um…got one on the way home from work.”

“Okay. Have you taken it yet?”

“Not…exactly.”

His brow raises. “Do you…need help or something?”

You scowl. “It’s peeing on a stick, I think I’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah, well, knowing you, you’d find a way to fuck it up.” He smirks. “Sure hope our baby gets my brains instead of yours.”

You grab the pillow beside him and give him a firm whack. “That’s not funny.”

He laughs as he winces. “Good. I wasn’t being funny.”

“Then, stop it. And stop being so calm.”

“You just said you preferred calm—”

“Well…it’s scaring me now. So what gives?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. I just don’t really feel the need to waste a reaction on something we don’t even know is happening yet. Take the test and then I’ll freak out if you’d like.”

“You say that like someone that’s had a lot of pregnancy scares.”

He snorts. “No, I say that like someone who knows freaking out won’t exactly help you right now. So just take the goddamn test, Tinkerbell. And we’ll go from there.”

Unamused, but somehow slightly comforted, you oblige and snatch the box from the table before retreating to the bathroom.

Once the timer has been set, you slowly make your way back to him.

He’s still sitting on the sofa. Calm. Unaffected. Watching you without a care in the world. Like his whole life isn’t about to change.

It drives you nuts.

“Five minutes,” you tell him.

He nods.

Warily, you sit in the chair to his left, staring holes through your shoes as your heart races inside your chest. You’re not sure how you got here. Not sure where you could possibly go. You aren’t ready for a baby. Not…yet. Especially not one with…him.

“Hey,” he calls, pulling your attention up. “S’the matter with you?”

Your eyes narrow. “What the hell do you think?”

Another casual shrug that makes your teeth grit. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy?” You lean back. “Why on Earth would I be happy about getting stuck with your DNA for the rest of my life?”

He smiles. “I don’t know. You just seem like the type of girl to want a lot of babies.”

You scoff. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not.” You don’t think.

“Really? Is that why you begged me to breed you?”

“I didn’t actually mean it. That’s just what you say in a moment like that.”

His eyebrow raises.

You hesitate. “Did…did you mean it?”

“Kind of,” he admits. “I mean, yeah, maybe I didn’t mean right this second, but…I don’t hate the idea.”

“You actually want to be a father?” You snort. “Bullshit. You hate kids. I’ve seen you.”

“I don’t hate kids, I just don’t care about them when they aren’t mine.” He throws his arm over the back of the chair and smirks. “I like my nieces, though. They’re chill.”

You blink. “You…you have nieces? Wait, you have siblings?”

“Yeah. One brother. He’s got two kids and they’re cute as shit.”

“Oh.” Your head starts to pound. “See? We can’t have a baby when I don’t even know anything about you.”

He chuckles to himself before nodding his chin at you. “All right, fine. Go ahead. Ask me whatever.”

“What?”

“Ask me what you wanna know.”

You think. “Okay. How often do you see your family?”

“Often enough. They live in California, and they work a lot. But we call every couple of weeks.”

“Oh. That’s…surprisingly nice. Uh…do you have a history of disease in your family?”

He grins. “Excuse me?”

“I need to know what I’m getting myself into.” You motion at him. “Answer.”

“This isn’t an interview—”

“Answer.”

“No,” he says. “Not that I know of anyway.”

“Great. Do you plan to be a deadbeat father?”

His eyes roll. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

“So, yes? You do? Oh, great—”

“No, because that’s not a fair fucking question—”

“It is a fair question. If I have to raise this baby alone, I want to know—”

“Of course you wouldn’t fucking be alone. Do you really think so little of me—”

“I don’t think about you at all. How am I supposed to know what you’ll do—”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he nearly snaps. He takes a breath to calm himself before adding, “Even if it wasn’t my baby, I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Your lashes flutter and you can feel your heart lodging in your throat. “Fine. Last question.”

He waits.

“Did you ever want kids…before? With…her?”

He doesn’t have to think for very long, but the mention of her makes him smile. “Nah. We talked about it, but we weren’t ready. We liked it being just us, you know? We had a bunch of shit we wanted to do. We were a long way from babies and a white picket fence.”

You try to blink back the tears swimming their way to your eye. You can still see that beautiful picture of her in his room. An entire future of love and life and adventures that he lost. Now…he’s stuck with you.

“Oh,” you murmur.

His brows furrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” You swipe your knuckle along your cheek. “So, you probably still aren’t ready.”

“I didn’t say that.”

You give him an incredulous look. “Harry, come on. You aren’t ready for a baby. I’m not ready for a baby. We…we don’t know each other, we don’t like each other…we can’t do this. You know that.”

“Do I?” He leans forward. “It’s a baby, not a bomb. I think we can handle it.”

“Well, I don’t. You don’t even like me. You can’t have a baby with me.”

“Why not? People do it all the time.”

“But not us.” You give him a firm stare. “Harry, we love our jobs. We want careers, not kids. So having a baby kind of gets in the way of that. There’s…there’s diaper changes, and teething, and potty training—”

“So?”

“So. We don’t work together well. In fact, it’s a rather well-known fact that we don’t get along. We can’t possibly raise a kid. We’d ruin it.” You study him for a beat, unnerved by the nonchalance in his tone. “Why do I get the feeling you actually want this to be real?”

Another shrug and you nearly lunge at him. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, resting his elbows on his knees while he glances at the floor. “I’m older now. Maybe it’s time to…think about settling down.”

Your face scrunches. “Ew. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

He laughs. “Look, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, but…maybe it could be a good thing.”

You stand from your chair and pace the length of your small living room. “This is crazy. This is crazy. I can’t have a baby, I’m…I’m not ready. I’m too young, I…I don’t even know what I’d do with one. Or if I even have a maternal instinct.”

“Probably not,” Harry offers, smirking when you glare. “You won’t really know until you have one.”

“Oh, great.”

“Listen, if you feel like you aren’t ready…we can find another alternative,” he says, softening his voice. “Okay? There are plenty of other options and we’ll find one you feel comfortable with.”

A tad wary of his sympathetic answer, you eye him closely. “Yeah? And what if we disagree?”

“We won’t,” he says calmly. “Your body, your decision.”

“Right,” you snort. “I’m sure.”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t be the one having to carry it.” He nods as though to reassure you. “Honestly, Tink. This would be your decision, one hundred percent. It’s not mine to make. Just to support.”

The tears rush a little faster as you sniffle and step closer. “You say that now, but what if I decide something you don’t like?”

“I will like it. I promise,” he murmurs, standing up in order to move toward you. “If you want to keep it, great. If you don’t, great.”

“I…I…” You suck in a deep breath, unable to slow the wild racing in your chest. “Fuck, I can’t…I don’t know—”

“Hey, okay, easy. Easy, Princess,” he says, quickly reaching out to take you in his arms and ease you against his chest. “Relax. Okay? Just breathe. Breathe for me.”

“I…I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can. You are.” His lips press to the top of your head while his hand runs up and down your back soothingly. “I’m right here. Do you hear me? I’m right here. You’re not alone. You won’t be alone. I promise.”

You squeeze your arms together and hold on with everything you have. Right now, he feels like your only anchor in the world. The only person strong enough to carry you both through to the other side. And for the first time since you met him…you feel glad that he’s here.

The two of you stand in the middle of the room for a long while before he finally murmurs, “I think it’s been five minutes.”

Your eyes close and you grip his shirt in your first. “I’m…I’m not ready to look.”

“Okay.” You can hear the smile in his response. “Okay, we can wait.”

So, you do as the truth starts to build in your chest. Inescapable, no matter how hard you try to swallow it down.

Finally, you can’t help but whisper, “You know what scares me the most?”

“Hm?”

“…that maybe I’m hoping it’s real.”

The apartment falls silent again. He doesn’t push you to elaborate, but you can feel his heart beating just a little faster inside his chest.

“I don’t know why,” you continue. “I don’t…I really don’t think I’m ready, but…but what if I should be? What if…what if we met and we started this because…because we were supposed to do this?”

He considers this. “Like fate.”

“Yeah.” You roll your lips into your mouth. “Because I still hate you. I do. I just…I’m starting to get this picture in my head of us. Being a family. Having a big house in a good school district. Tucking them into bed at night and reading them stories. Which is…dumb.”

“No,” he mumbles. “No, it’s not dumb. I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Because I meant what I said, I’d love to get you pregnant. You’d look really fucking hot.”

You chuckle. “Yes, so you’ve mentioned.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Uh…okay?”

He smirks. “I never had a breeding kink until I met you.”

You lean back and swat your hand across his chest. “You’re so annoying.”

“What? I’m being serious.” He grins and those dimples pop free. God, you hope your kids have his dimples—

No. Nope. You aren’t going there.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the thought. “Whatever. You’re just horny.”

“Maybe. But it’s still true.” His gentle gaze sweeps across your face. “If you wanna do this…we’ll do it. You and me. We’ll have this baby, and we’ll raise it to be really smart, and funny, and to not take shit from anybody.”

You laugh, brushing away a few more tears. “Maybe we can teach it to write code.”

“Oh, fucking obviously.”

The two of you smile before the excitement seems to fizzle and Harry’s brows pull together.

“You know I don’t actually hate you, right?” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I know that’s our thing, and I know you said it earlier, but…I don’t actually hate you. This baby wouldn’t grow up with two parents that don’t like each other.”

“Oh…I…I know.”

“Good. Because I don’t want that to be one of the reasons you think we can’t do it. I’d fucking love that baby. And I’d love you for carrying it.”

Instantly, you both seem to still. The four-letter word sounds so loud inside such a small room.

I’d love you.

He clears his throat, shifting a bit as he glances toward the kitchen. “I mean, I’d…I’d appreciate you for carrying it—”

“No, yeah, I know,” you stammer. “I know what you mean.”

“Good. Yeah.”

The two of you fall quiet again before you softly admit, “I think I’m ready to look.”

“Okay.” He squeezes your hip. “I’m right here.”

You take in a deep breath before begrudgingly pulling yourself out of his arms. You already miss his warmth and the way he felt like home and your stomach turns as you slip into the bathroom.

With trembling hands, you reach for the stick that sits on the edge of your sink. And in those three seconds, an entire lifetime flashes before your eyes.

The good, the bad, and the everything in-between. You see a house and a dog and a big backyard. You see two little kids rolling in the grass and jumping into the pool. You hear them begging for a bedtime story and crying when they scrape their knee.

You see a dozen birthdays and holidays and visits to the zoo. You see their heartbreaks and triumphs, their successes and letdowns. You see a million goodnight kisses and cuddles on the couch.

And then…you see Harry.

In every picture, every moment. Taking them to their first baseball game and picking them up from their first dance. Sneaking them into R-rated movies even after you explicitly said no and feeding them far too much candy and popcorn.

You see him teach your son how to tie a tie and dance with your daughter as she stands on his feet. You see him cooking breakfast in the kitchen, flour all over his face. You see him curled up in bed, his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair. You hear him tell you how happy he is. How glad that he found you.

It’s a beautiful life. Even if it’s not the one you imagined for yourself. And in that moment, you decide that it doesn’t matter what the test says. If that’s your future, so be it.

As long as you get to live it with him.

“So?” Harry calls from the hall.

You swallow thickly and slowly glance down.

Negative.

No baby. No pregnancy. No white-picket fence.

You stare at the test for at least a full minute. You aren’t sure how you feel. Relieved. Disappointed. Upset. Thankful. Confused.

“Tink?”

You turn around. “Uh…it’s negative,” you report, handing it to him. “False alarm. I guess I’m just late.”

He glances over the stick with a rather blank expression before looking at you. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. This is definitely the better outcome. I’m just…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was just starting to get used to the idea.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, handing it back. “I know.”

You throw the test away. “Sorry for making you come all the way over here for that.”

“Hey, whoa—” He strides into the bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I’d be here.”

“I just…I wasted your time. I should have taken it before I called you—”

“Tink,” he sighs, taking your cheeks in his hands. “Stop. You can always call me for shit like this.” He looks at you, then amends, “You can always me. For anything. You know that.”

A tear slips from your eye without warning, and you suck in a sharp breath. “I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. This is what I wanted—”

“I know,” he says gently. “I know. It’s hard.”

“Yeah.” You hiccup. “But this is good, right? This is better?”

For a moment, he says nothing. He simply stares at you with a rather sympathetic expression. Or maybe it’s forlorn. Maybe he’s disappointed. Upset that you aren’t giving him what he wants.

Then, he dips down to kiss the tip of your nose. “This is good,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “We would have figured it out. And you would have been a wonderful mom. But I know you. And I know you aren’t ready. Not yet.”

You close your eyes and melt into the feel of his palms against your skin. Into the way he reassures you and protects you all in the same breath. You never thought you’d feel so safe in the serenity of his touch, but here you are. Wishing for him to hold you forever.

“And when we are ready, we’ll do it on our terms,” he says. “Okay?”

Slowly, you nod. “This is good,” you repeat to yourself. “It is. Really. Things are going great at work, I’m finally secure financially, and even you and I are…kind of getting along.”

He smirks.

“This is good. This is better.” You repeat the mantra until you really believe it. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have been a very good pregnant woman anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’d be really cranky. Or needy. My ankles would get all swollen and I’d be hot all the time and nauseous and miserable. I’d probably try to kill you.”

“Oh, you’d definitely try to kill me. You try to kill me even when you aren’t pregnant.”

You gasp. “Rude.”

“What?” He chuckles again before his eyes slowly start to rake down your frame. “But I don’t know. I think it’ll be better than you think.”

You swat him again. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to picture it.”

“Why? I told you, you’d look fucking hot.”

“Yeah…no.”

However, he only nods, moving in to subtly brush his lips against yours. “You would. Be so fucking beautiful carrying our baby. With your tits all swollen and your belly getting bigger every day.”

Truthfully, the image almost makes you grimace, but there’s something about the way he says it. The way he talks about you so reverently. A soft, sultry murmur that goes straight to your cunt. Because you know he’s not just saying it to say it. He means it. Believes it. Would do anything for it.

He tilts your head back, thumb brushing along your jaw. “And I think you like it,” he exhales. “I think you like the idea of holding me inside you. Having a part of me. Knowing that I did it to you. No one else.”

You suck in a soft breath, knees going just a bit weak. “Harry…”

“What, baby?” His mouth ghosts along your neck. “Are you thinking about it? Thinking about how pretty your tummy would look with me inside it?”

He’s evil. Absolutely evil, and you clear your throat in a desperate attempt to regain control of yourself. “Do you…have a pregnancy kink I don’t know about?”

His lips quirk up. “Apparently.”

“Mm.” Your lashes flutter and the urge to kiss him grows stronger. “You know…some women get really horny when they’re pregnant.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah. I don’t think you could handle it.”

He scoffs. “Oh, no?”

You shake your head. “I mean, do you really think you could keep up? Going for hours and hours on end? Trying to keep me satiated with your poor, limp little dick?”

He makes another noise, and you tsk.

“I mean, you can barely satisfy me now as it is. But if I was pregnant? Pfft. Forget it.”

Instantly, he’s snatching hold of your hips and yanking you against his chest. “Don’t fucking tempt me, Princess,” he nearly growls. “I’ll bend you over right now.”

“No, I don’t think you will,” you retort. “You’ve gone soft on me. Rubbing my back, kissing my hair. You wanna take care of me and honestly? It’s a little pathetic.”

His head cocks rather deviously and your pulse begins to skip. He could split you in half if he wanted to and you both know it.

But that’s what you need right now. You don’t want to be coddled or looked after. You wanna be fucked. Tortured and teased until you’re begging for release.

You want an escape.

And in that moment, Harry decides to give you one.

He picks you up and carries you out of the bathroom while your legs quickly work to hook to his hips for stability and your arms snake around his neck.

He ignores your squeals and teasing huffs of annoyance, instead dropping you onto your mattress with a soft thud.

You glare and push up onto your elbows. “You know, you don’t have to manhandle me—”

“Shut up.”

He surges forward, lips gliding against yours as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. And kissing is easy with him. As easy breathing, like you’ve done it all your life. You know exactly what he likes, what he wants. And you give it him.

His glasses are cold against your face, keeping him from getting as close as he’d like, and after a moment, he huffs, and rips them off before tossing them aside. And even though you adore when he wears them, you happen to adore being near him even more.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging on his curls, scratching down his neck. He has the added advantage of being on top, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from turning to putty in your hands. Clay for you to mold to your liking.

No matter how dominant he tries to be, he’s simply a man that needs to be told what to do. Taken care of. Shown.

And you happen to like showing him.

You feel him tug on the hem of your shirt. “Off,” he breathes between carnal nips to your throat. “I want this off, Tink.”

Happy to oblige, you push him back so you can lift yourself up before you peel the fabric from your chest. You take your time with the bra, allowing the straps to fall down your arms oh so slowly. You don’t rush to reveal yourself to him, instead letting him anticipate you. Until his heart is racing and his eyes are darkening and he’s resisting the urge to do it himself.

But once he can finally see you, he nearly groans. “Oh, good fucking girl.”

He resumes his work. More kisses are left to the warm, tender skin, and he happily sucks bruises into each swell and curve of your breast before teasing the nipple with his tongue. His hands are greedy—ravenous. Pulling at your flesh, clawing his way along your frame.

When he reaches your thighs, you whimper. You’ve missed the way he touches you. The way he pries your legs apart and makes a home between.

In a rush, he snaps your panties off into his fist and you toss him a punishing glare.

He smiles.

You rid each other of your remaining clothes in a frantic fashion until they’re nothing more than a dirty pile on the floor. Messy and familiar. Fated.

He drops down onto the bed back first, effortlessly swapping positions as you’re placed in a straddle over his waist.

“Good girl, let me see you,” he murmurs, running his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your jaw. “Go ahead.”

You reach down and take his hardening cock in your hand, running it along your cunt before teasing yourself with the tip.

“Didn’t stretch you,” he mumbles, leaving a few stray kisses to your collarbone. “S’might hurt, so—”

You push him in, simultaneously sinking down in an effort to feel a more prominent burn., and you both make a rather lewd noise as the grip on your chin tightens.

“Tink,” he hisses with a punishing look of his own. “Careful—”

You drop yourself further, muscles tensing around the thickness until your thighs begin to shake.

“Hey—” He forces your eyes on his. “Enough. Be gentle, m’not gonna hurt you—”

“I want you to,” you pant. “Please. I need it. I…fuck, Har, I need it. Please…please.”

He’s still frowning but his expression softens. “Baby…not like this. Maybe we should wait until you’re feeling better—"

“No,” you whimper. Desperate. Fraught. “Harry, please, don’t stop. Don’t make me stop—”

“Hey, easy, easy.” He pulls your forehead to his. “Breathe. It’s okay.”

You try to obey. Try to suck in a strangled gasp of air but it’s useless. He’s gonna take himself from you. He’s gonna leave, and you’ll be empty, and alone, and maybe he won’t ever touch you again—

He places his palm on your chest, right over your heart. “Breathe,” he says again. Soft. Quiet. “In then out. Good girl, just like that.”

You follow the sound of his voice. Mimic his inhales and exhales until the two of you fall into a synchronized rhythm.

“Good,” he says again, rubbing his other hand along your back. “There you go. You’re all right, I’ve got you. Yeah?”

Weakly, you nod. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just…I—”

“Shh.” He kisses your nose. “You’re okay, Tink. I know.”

A long moment passes before you finally feel in control of your own heart again and once you blink the fog from your eye, you see him. Delicate and strong at the same time.

He sweeps his thumb along your lip. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you admit. “Really, I just…I needed to feel you. And I wanted to…move on, I guess. Think about something else. Lose myself for a bit.”

He sighs but nods his understanding. “You could have told me that.”

“I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing things with you.”

“I know,” he echoes with a small grin. “But we’ll learn, yeah?”

Your gaze grows suspicious. “And why would we do that?”

“Because,” he says simply. “If we’re gonna make a bunch of hot, smart babies one day, we’re gonna have to communicate.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, that won’t be for a while.”

“Fine. Just gives us more time to practice.”

Your eyes narrow. “You really have gone soft on me, haven’t you? All because you thought I was pregnant."

He laughs, fingers slipping around the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. “I’d argue I’m actually quite hard right now.”

“Ha. Funny.”

“I can hate you and like you at the same time, right?” he teases. “Because I think that’s my sweet spot. Wanting to kill you and fuck you all at once.”

“Agreed. You’re insufferable but you’re also one of my favorite people. Which only makes you more insufferable.”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I think we earned a little civility, no?”

You nod and take his lip between your teeth. “And I think we should celebrate with an orgasm.”

He laughs again. “I suppose that’s only fair.”

You dance your kisses down his chest, enjoying the way his head drops back while he sighs at the feel of your tongue. He’s so beautiful and so good and if you’re going to lose yourself, you want to lose yourself in him.

Leaning back, brace your hands behind you on his knees, and start to bounce yourself on his cock. Over and over, faster and faster, until he’s grabbing onto your hips and giving them a firm, encouraging squeeze to help you along.

Your tits bounce right in his face, and he takes advantage of his front row seat, allowing his hands to trace and tease your nipples as you whine. He sucks them into his mouth and pulls them with his teeth. It sends chills along your spine and goosebumps along your arms and when he notices, he smirks.

Not even a minute later, he’s pulling you down so your chest meets his. His hands land on your ass with a firm grip and he drags you along his cock. Slow and sensual until your eyes flutter shut, and you disappear into the building pleasure.

You feel his kisses on your ribcage as he begins to thrust up into you. Returning to the pace you previously set until you’re both chasing that familiar high.

“There you go,” he praises through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah, just like that—”

“Harry,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his hair. “Shit, please—”

“I know.” He leaves another kiss to the inside of your arm before he smacks your left ass cheek. “I got you, Princess. S’okay. Keep going.”

You grind yourself over his lap, knees hugging his waist as you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. Needy. Anxious. You match each other’s rhythm and it’s a dance. An effortless fluidity that brings you closer than ever before.

Then, he sucks two fingers into your mouth, and moves them between your cheeks. He grazes them over your tighter hole, gently teasing them over the other entrance before dropping them down to where his cock is fucking into your cunt. He plays with you a bit, pushing you just a bit closer while you wail—depraved—and beg for more.

“My good girl,” he praises. He spanks you again. “Fuck—that’s it, baby.”

Your staccato whimpers are consistent now. One for every thrust and you can almost taste his desperation as he turns his head in order to kiss your cheek. The sound of skin against skin is crude and delicious. The way your body slides against his. Like butter on a hot day, melting together.

He goes faster, pulls you harder. Fingers digging into your skin so hard it almost hurts. But in the best possible way. In turn, you brace yourself with a palm on his throat. Squeezing it tight as you start to get closer.

“Yeah,” he groans. “Shit…harder—”

You obey, pinching the sides of his neck until his eyes roll back.

You can feel his heart racing against yours. You’re both warm. Hot. Shaking. A tangled mess of limps and depraved grinding like animals in heat.

“M’almost…m’almost there,” you whisper.

He nods, looking down your body to watch the way your ass bounces in his hands. “Go. S’okay, go. Let me feel you.”

He leaves more kisses to your side and the tender way his lips feel against your skin makes your brain go fuzzy.

You grip his throat a bit tighter and just like that…it’s over.

The two of you cum together, the room filling with moans and gasps and promises. He settles beneath you while you ride out the rest of your high but he makes sure to keep his arm around you through every second.

Once you finally catch your breath, he hums. “God-fucking-damn.”

You grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He turns to see you. “I think I’m pregnant.”

You roll your eyes with a swat to his chest but you’re laughing. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet you still like me.”

“I never said that.”

“You said I’m your favorite person.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.”

“Right.” He helps you ease him out before he’s flipping you around and moving himself between your legs.

You blink. “What the hell are you doing?”

He lifts two fingers and eases them along your swollen pussy. Collecting the white, sticky substance already leaking out before easily pushing it back in.

“Harry,” you scold. “I think we’ve had enough breeding for one day.”

He smirks. “Relax, Tink, m’not breeding you. I just…like to see it drip out.”

Your heart leaps. “…oh.”

“Yeah.” He rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh in order to watch. “S’always so fucking pretty.”

You reach down and card your fingers through his sweaty curls. Happy and content for the first time in days.

He looks up. “One day,” he promises, even though it sounds more like a question.

But somehow, in this moment, it makes everything else worth it.

You grin.

“One day.”

AAA I can’t believe we finally did it!! I’m not gonna lie them being soft with each other is gross 😭 BUT ALSO CUTE!! YAY PROGRESS!!

Thank you so much for reading and for always being so nice!! 🥹💞💞 and of course thank you for the amazing idea hehe

Also, if you see any mistakes……no you don’t 🫶

~ Full 404 Masterlist

Taglist:

@littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa

@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21

@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds

@babyyhoneyyy @swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

@hannahdressedasabanana @sykostyles @lukesaprince @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus

@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics

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fandom-oneshots-etc · 1 year ago

Note

✨ Dropping by to request literally anything sherlock x reader - would love something with awkward idiots in love ✨

🍄 Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: When Sherlock goes off on a frantic tangent, John knows exactly who to call, the idiot in love with him...

🍄 Word Count: 2084

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: N/A

🍄 Note: I hope this is what you were looking for Anon! :)

“What’s he doing this time?” you answered the phone as John’s name appeared. You had become so accustomed to the calls at all odd hours of the day, usually all pertaining to your high-functioning sociopath of a friend, Sherlock. Odd hours like the one now.

You had just sat down in your cloud chair, kindle in hand ready to read the next chapter of your gripping (b/g) when the phone had pinged, angrily vibrating against the coffee table-top. A puff of air had moved the stray hairs touching your face as you instantly recognized the personalized ring tone you had installed. You knew that John wouldn’t call you unless it was at least a code blue, blue-in-the-face blue. A colour code the two of you had created to describe the different moods of Sherlock Holmes.

“I’m so sorry-” You rolled your eyes with a little smile. “He’s just off on one. He solved the case, you know the one with the woman and the suitcases? He’s been off the walls since then. Can’t get him to settle, he’s talking about renovating the flat, knocking walls down for more ‘thinking space’. I think Mrs Hudson’s threatened to evict him already,” You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips at the thought of the sweet old woman threatening your tall friend, knowing very well that she’d mean every word. You could already picture the offended horror on Sherlock’s face at her threats.

“I’m on my way,” you reassured before hanging up the phone and pushing yourself out of the comfortable chair. Slipping your kindle into your bag, you grabbed your keys from the hook and turned off the lights. You didn’t bother changing out of your night clothes,, instead your threw a long coat over your pajamas and slipped on your trainers before heading out of the flat. You weren’t exactly keen on the idea of getting a cab this late at night, but you preferred that over walking the streets alone in the dark.

Thankfully, Baker Street was only a few roads away and the journey was nice and short with the lack of traffic at this time of night. Looking up at 221B you could see tat it was one of the only lights on in the street. You slipped the spare key out of your bag and unlocked the door to 221B.

Mrs Hudson reached the bottom of the stairs in an angry flurry huffing as she passed, a few rushed ‘oh dear’s escaping her lips as she passed you, only briefly making eye contact as she scurried back into her flat, red-faced. Taking that as your cue, you started up the stairs to the flat, fully expecting to see the flat in complete disarray, and you weren’t disappointed.

The papers from the now-closed case were still strewn across the flat, stuck to the walls, laid out on the desk, tucked under the tea cups on the small side table. The tea cups, several sat on the desk untouched and probably growing a few types of fungus that Sherlock could happily describe for you. The pillows from the sofa were thrown about the flat as Sherlock stood on the sofa, feet buried in the sofa cushions and tape measure I hand as he stretched it across the wall in front of him, a HB pencil clenched between his teeth.

“Thank God you’re here!” John poked his head out of the kitchen as if weary of the man in the living room. He gestured for you to step into the kitchen, with a final glance at the tall consulting detective, you slipped into the kitchen.

“How long has he been like this?” you asked, setting your bag down on the cluttered kitchen table. Piles and piles of old experiments were stacked tall, filling up almost the entire surface of the table and from the darkening black patch by one of the chairs you had no doubt that Sherlock had blown something up today, yet another thing to add to the list of problems for you and John.

“A couple of hours now, I stupidly thought that solving the case would change his mood, but it only seemed to make him more antsy for another one-” He sighed. “Sorry it’s so late, I know you usually sit down and read about now. I didn’t want to bother you but with Mrs Hudson threatening eviction I thought it best not to wait.” You smiled at your friend and shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s been a while since he’s been like this so it was expected sooner or later. Better sort him out before Mrs Hudson really does chuck him out.” The two of you chuckle at the thought of a homeless Sherlock, it’s not really a sight either of you can imagine fully. But you had no doubt that his homeless network would really find him the best spots in London to squat.

“You don’t mind if I take a quick walk do you? I’ve been cooped up in here for a few hours trying to sort him out, just need bit of fresh air.” You shook your head and hurried John out of the kitchen door and down the stairwell. You knew it would be easier to deal with Sherlock without John around anyway. Not that John was a problem, but with Sherlock like this and his habit of making unsavory comments without fully thinking of the consequences, it would be easier than having a row start between the two flat mates.

You paused for a moment and brushed your finger against the black mark on the table top and inspected the pad of your finger. That’ll come off with some polish, you decided. Stepping back out of the kitchen and into the living room, your eyes zeroed in on the consulting detective who had now abandoned the tape measure and was gently knocking against the wall looking for a hollow sounding area.

“No.” You spoke clearly, catching the attention of the detective who had yet to notice you. Spinning on his heels, his eyes flashed at you wide and adorable. It kind of reminded you of a child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. His mouth started to open but you shut him down quickly. “No,” You gave him a stern look. “That wall has all of the major electricity lines and one of the main water pipes. No.”

“There’s no way you could possibly know that just from looking at the wall-” Sherlock argued.

“No I couldn’t. I know because I had to get the schematics for the flat after you started shooting the walls because you were banned from in-person cases and blew the power out in this side of London,” You reminded. “An event that Mycroft still calls ‘The Great COVID Blackout’.” Sherlock’s nose scrunched at the mention of his brother. “Now, are you going to sit down or am I going to have to use that self-defense training program you insisted I go on to incapacitate you?” You could almost see the cogs turning in his head as his eyes narrowed at you, trying to deduce if you were serious or not. Your unwavering stance must have given him his answer as he slowly stepped down from the sofa and settled his feet back on the floor calmly.

“Why are you here?” You were very rarely offended by Sherlock’s blunt words, it just wasn’t worth the energy when you also knew that he rarely meant it to come across in that way. “No, don’t answer that. You’re here in your night clothes, your kindle is tucked in your bag and your hair is done up which means it’s late- John called you. Why?”

“Probably because his roommate was threatened with eviction after planning to renovate their rented flat and set the landlady off.” “Mrs Hudson wouldn’t evict me. She still owes me for getting her husband executed.”

“Favours do expire Sherlock. They have their limits.” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Really?” You nod. “Oh. Well John wouldn’t let her evict me.” “Have you been experimenting today?” You think back to the two mugs settled on the kitchen counter, one sporting a brownish green sludge at the bottom.

“Yes, why- Oh.”

“Right come on,” You clapped your hands, moving towards him and grabbing one of his hands to pull him over to his chair. You ignored the sounds of protest from Sherlock as you settled on the chair and tugged on his arm. “Sit down,” you instructed. Sherlock sighed and complied, dropping onto the floor and crossing his legs underneath him. You grabbed the TV remote and switched it on. “What should we watch? Bones or Criminal Minds?” you pondered.

“Why do we have to watch a crime show? They’re always so inaccurate-” You flick the TV onto an episode of Criminal Minds. “Look, the killer’s using tape- what about finger prints? They don’t need to study his behaviour, just find the prints-” You smiled softly, fiddling with a few strands of Sherlock’s curly hair in your lap as he rattled on about the mistakes of the Unsub and the BAU team.

It was around an hour later that John returned to the flat. Pushing open the front door of 221, he was relieved to hear nothing. The light under Mrs Hudson’s door was now off, meaning she had slipped into bed, no longer tormented by her tenant’s renovation plans. The light on the landing let off a soft glow as John started up to the flat. A heavy wave of relief swept through him as he noticed the lack of banging, drilling, sawing or any construction noises at all. You had managed to talk him out of it for now. He reached the top of the stairs and could hear the muffled sounds of the TV in the flat. Stepping into the kitchen he could see that the place was still a pig sty but at least there wasn’t any knocked down walls or partially constructed extensions. The mess could be dealt with in the morning.

As he turned the corner and peeked - still a little cautiously into the living room - a soft smile graced his face. Your back was pressed against one of the arms of Sherlock’s chair, your legs swung over the opposite side. Sherlock’s was still perched on the floor with his legs crossed, his head dropped back against your stomach, with your right hand resting on top. Your fingers rhythmically threading through his curly brown locks, soothingly. John flicked his eyes up to the TV screen to see an episode of Criminal Minds playing, Sherlock’s face scrunched in distaste as he watched the team profile the murderer. Your other hand held your kindle tightly, your fingers set comfortably around the flower pop socket on the back as you occasionally flicked the pages with your thumb.

John couldn’t help but watch in awe for a moment. No one he knew had ever been able to soothe Sherlock in the way that you could. Not him, not Mrs Hudson and certainly not his brother, not even his parents had this calming effect that you had. He wondered if Sherlock would ever confess to the effect you had on him, or explain why you had such an effect on him. John knew the reason, Mrs Hudson knew the reason… did Sherlock? Did you?

You were always just as oblivious as Sherlock. John had mentioned to you once or twice about how you effected the consulting detective, but you couldn’t see it. You wouldn’t admit to the effect you so clearly had on him nor would you confess to the butterflies that whirled in your stomach whenever you were this close to him.

You caught John’s eye and must’ve made an educated guess of what he was thinking as you rolled your eyes and shook your heads. Deciding that now was probably not the time to bring up the obvious pink elephant that shared the living room with the three of you, John mouthed a ‘thank you’ to you and you nodded, letting out a quiet yawn. He bidded a quick farewell to the pair of you before shuffling out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room. On his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but wonder how long the two of you would remain oblivious.

As he reached the top of the staircase he paused and chuckled. Lovesick idiots.

#sherlock x reader #sherlock oneshot #sherlock imagine #sherlock holmes #sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes oneshot #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock oneshot #bbc sherlock imagine #request #reqs open #requests open #anon ask

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mountttmase · 4 months ago

Text

Change Of Heart

The Beginning - Part One

Note - first of all a big sorry to Elisa 😭 you sent me this request so bloody long ago but it’s finally here! I really hope you all enjoy this and please let me know what you think 🩷 chapter two out same time next week!

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 3.5k

Warnings - series contains angst & fluff

‘Mase, you up there?’ You called, not hearing any signs of life apart from the rustling of the leaves above but as soon as you spoke you saw the light of his torch flicker on.

‘I’m here, you need a hand?’ He offered, his face coming into view above you but you shook your head. Grabbing onto the wooden ladder as you began to hoist yourself up and into his treehouse. ‘This better be good, Mount. Cause if I get stuck up here again I’ll make sure you never kick a ball for the foreseeable’

‘It is, I promise’ he chuckled, helping you in as you got to the entrance and pulling you over to get settled on the cushions in the far corner. ‘What took you so long anyway?’

‘I had to get ready, I was practically in my pj’s when you text me’

‘I forgot, you can’t leave the house without your lipstick on’ he jibed, making you roll your eyes but you knew he was right. Ever since you were little you loved wearing makeup and as soon as you discovered red lipstick you wouldn’t put anything else on your lips. Mason rarely saw you without out as you never felt complete unless you had it on but Mason never made you feel silly about it.

Mason was your bestest friend in the whole world, meeting at nursery when you were three and going through school together in all the same classes meant no matter if you didn’t like him, you were stuck with him. That and both your dad’s being good friends helped the situation and even though you’d not been as close for a while when you were around 12 because boys sucked, you’d found your way back to each other and been besties ever since.

The treehouse you were currently in was in Masons garden, a street away from our own house and you used to come up here years ago all the time to get away from the adults. However, ever since Mason was growing busy with football and you were focused on your exams so you could get into uni, it was rare you did anything like this anymore.

‘Still smells the same up here’ you commented, facing him with a smile but you could tell he was eager to let you know his news. ‘Go on then, what is it?’

‘I’ve been signed’ he blerted, his wide toothy grin on full display and even though you were happy for him you had no idea what he meant.

‘Signed? What do you mean I thought you were already signed?’

‘Well yeah, but this is different. I’m going out on loan to another club and I’ll get to play properly. Like proper first team football’ he told you, his excitement infectious and you couldn’t help but smile along even though you were still a little confused.

‘Thats amazing, Mase. So you’ll play for a different club?’

‘Yeah, just for the season, and then I’ll be back in the summer’

‘But I can come and visit right?’

‘Well that’s kinda the thing’ he huffed. Scratching the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous and you were sure you weren’t about to like what he was going to say. ‘It’s not around here’

‘That’s okay, I’ve made the journey up to Chelsea all the time’ you countered. Thinking he should have known you’d drive to him to hang out no matter where in the country it was. ‘And surely you’ll have away games? I’m sure some will be near my uni, right?’

‘Not exactly, y/n. It’s in the Netherlands, I’m moving overseas for a year ’

‘What?’ You breathed. Your heart sinking immediately at the thought of him being so far away but the excited smile on his face lifted you ever so slightly.

‘Yeah, but I really think this will be good for me’ he nodded and although you didn’t want to rain on his parade, you had your concerns.

‘I don’t like the thought of you being in your own all the way over there’ you pouted but he just sent you a reassuring smile.

‘No it’s okay, mums gonna live with me for a few months till I get my bearings and I’ll be fine after that. It’ll be good for me, you know? I might actually learn to grow up’ he laughed, tapping your knee in jest as you were always the first to call out his silly behaviour but even though he was making a joke of it, you didn’t want him to change. You loved that Mason didn’t take anything too seriously and some of your happiest memories he was involved in.

‘But I like you as you are’ you whispered, watching his face soften slightly. ‘Well even so, I’m still coming to visit. It might not be as frequent as before but I’ll still be there’

‘Thank you’ he smiled, his face looking shy just before you pulled him into a hug. Wanting to let him know how proud and happy you were for him and from the way he squeezed you tightly you could tell he appreciated it. ‘I wanted to give you something’ he told you shyly, the words getting lost in your hair before you both pulled back and the serious look on this face let you know this wasn’t going to be something light.

‘Oh Mase, you’re not gonna make me cry are you?’

‘I hope not’ he laughed, pulling away and reaching into his pocket where he produced a medium sized jewellery box and you felt your bottom lip drop immediately. ‘I haven’t even opened it yet’ he giggled, bumping his shoulder into yours playfully and you didn’t want to ruin the moment so you held it together as best you could.

‘Sorry sorry, I’m fine keep going’ you laughed, your eyes darting down to the box he was starting to open and your hands covered your mouth as he opened it up fully. Not being able to contain the gasp when you finally saw what was inside as your eyes flashed from his face to inside the box repeatedly.

Inside was a tiny white enamel heart on a dainty gold chain. It was simple and understated and definitely something you’d wear so the fact he’d picked it out made you smile.

‘Oh Mase’ you breathed, your watery eyes looking up into his soft ones and the small smile on his face made your heart thump in your chest. ‘it’s lovely’

‘Turn it over’ he whispered, nodding down into the box and after a beat you carefully reached out to flip the heart over and you caught sight of the small M engraved onto the back.

‘Sorry if it’s a bit cheesy, but we won’t be able to see each other as much as I want to, and I just wanted you to have something from me’ he explained quietly and his thoughtfulness made you want to sob.

‘No, Mase. I love it, thank you so much’ you told him. Hoping you sounded as sincere as you felt but from the smile on his face relaxed you.

‘That’s okay, I’ve wanted to get you something for a while just to say thanks you know?’

‘Thanks for what, I haven’t done anything’ you laughed but he just playfully rolled his eyes and he set the box on his thigh so he could get it out.

‘You have. You’ve always been here for me like you’re the bestest friend I’ve ever had’ he explained and as much as you wanted to tell him you felt the same, you were feeling terribly shy and did what you always did in these situations and tried to cover it up with humour.

‘Don’t tell dec that’ you laughed but he just scrunched his nose up at you.

‘You know what I mean, I know you’re involved with my football stuff but I like that I can forget about all that stuff with you too. Like I’m just Mason to you and I can’t tell you how much I need someone like you in my life’

‘I thought you werent gonna make me cry’ you laughed, flinging your arms around his neck again so you could hold him. Half because you wanted to and half in hopes he’d stop talking as you were far too emotional about everything and when you pulled away he motioned for you to turn around so he could put your necklace on for you.

You moved your hair to the side, shivering slightly as you felt his lips close to your ear as he tried to manoeuvre the chain around your neck and you could tell he was struggling to clasp it as the curse words fell from his lips causing you to giggle.

‘Why do they make these things so fucking small… ah there we go’ he laughed. Hands falling to your shoulders to give them a quick squeeze before you turned around to face him. A bright smile on his face as he took you in but you found the deep blush on his cheeks adorable.

‘I love it Mason, honestly thank you so much’ you smiled, your hand fiddling with the small heart but you could see he was still a little shy about it when he just shrugged.

‘Thought you might need something to remember me by’

‘I can’t believe you’re gonna be gone for a whole year’ you sighed, settling back into the seat next to him as you both looked forward. Your thighs touching as you were now sat so close but you didn’t care. Knowing you wouldn’t be able to do this soon for a while.

‘I know, hopefully it’s worth it though. Like if I’m good enough maybe Chelsea will have me, or some other other team and I can play full time’

‘Of course you’re good enough’ you laughed, bumping his shoulder with yours and the sound of his laugh made you smile.

‘You know if I do make it, I’ll finally be able to afford to take us on that safari we’ve always talked about’ Mason laughed and even though it was still a pipe dream, the thought of the pair of you maybe getting to do something you’d always dreamed of excited you more than anything.

When you were little, you loved watching nature documentaries but your favourites were always about Africa and the rhinos. Every birthday party was safari themed and whenever Mason had a free weekend you’d go to the zoo and talk about how cool it would be to see them in the wild, Mason promising he’d take you one day when you were older. You had both saved up your pocket money for years but that had since all been spent on silly nights out and things you needed for uni and even though Mason obviously made money from football the pair of you were still young and had years to figure it all out.

‘You sure you’re gonna have time for little old me when you’re all big and famous?’ You teased.

‘Of course I will, I’ll always make time for you no matter what, you know that right?’

‘I do’ you whispered but you suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over you as his face changed into an expression you’d never seen before.

‘Listen, I need to tell you something else. I didn’t bring you here just to give you that’ he mumbled, his voice quiet as he looked almost shy and you sat quietly in hopes he’d carry on talking. ‘I want to say something, okay? I didn’t want us to leave with anything unsaid between us and i need you to just hear me out’

‘Okay’ you whispered, unsure as to what he was about to say so you got yourself settled as he took a deep breath and got ready to speak.

‘I really like you’ he admitted, eyes trained on the floor as you gave him time to carry on speaking. ‘Like, not just as a best friend…’

‘I just wanted to know if you liked me too, in that way? Cause if you did you know I’d do anything to make it work like whatever you want me to be I’ll be’ he smiled, looking up at you hopefully but you knew your expression was one of shock. ‘I really think I could make you happy, you’re my best friend y/n but I really want us to be so much more and it didn’t feel right not saying anything before I left’

What were you supposed to say to that?

Mason was your best friend, the person you told all your secrets to and the one who’s presence brought you comfort like no other and whilst you couldn’t say you'd never thought about him as more once or twice there was no way you saw it ever working out. Especially not now.

Mason was off to goodness knows where for a year at least and you were off to uni to start your new life and the thought of a boyfriend you never saw wasn’t in your plans. You were both on the cusp of a fresh start and whilst you’d always want Mason in your life you weren’t sure this would be a good decision.

You knew what you had to do, but the thought of breaking Mason's heart and possibly losing him altogether made this even more difficult. His bright eyes were trained on you and you struggled to find the right words to say.

‘Mason’ you breathed, taking his hands in yours but the hopeful look on his face crushed you. ‘Mason I’m so sorry i-‘

‘Oh’ he whispered, taking his hands away from yours before you got a chance to explain anything but the slight nod of his head made your eyes sting. Hopefully he’d understand your point of view straight away but even if he didn’t you were just hoping he’d give you a chance to explain yourself.

‘You’re my best friend, you know that right? And when we think about each other I want it to be good thoughts only. You leave soon and so do I, like I don’t want us to ruin what we have you know? We’ll never be able to see each other and there’s so much change about to happen, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to make even more changes’

He was silent, eyes sad as he took in your words and when you cautiously cupped his jaw he shut them completely so you couldn’t look at him.

‘I’m sorry Mase’

‘It’s fine’ he gulped, pulling out of your grasp and you felt your heart sink. ‘You’re probably right, we’ll both be away a lot and it’s gonna be difficult to talk and-‘

‘Wait’ You interrupted, touching his arm in hopes he’d stop talking as you could tell what he was thinking a mile off. ‘I still want you in my life, this isn’t me trying to get rid of you or anything. You’re still my best friend, Mase’

‘I know’ he gulped, trying to smile up at you but you could see it was all fake. The gravity of how much you’d hurt him now settling in and you wished you could take it all back. ‘I want the same but I might need a little time’

‘Oh Mase-‘

‘Honestly it’s fine’ he laughed, trying to deflect. ‘I just didn’t want to leave without anything unsaid’

‘I’m so sorry’ you whispered, feeling the tears you’d been holding in suddenly fall from your eyes as you quickly tried to wipe them but he’d seen them fall already. ‘Please don’t hate me’

‘It’s alright, come here’ he smiled, opening his arms for you to settle into. Your face buried in his neck and his warm skin pressed against yours bought you comfort like nothing else. ‘I could never hate you, okay? We’ll be fine, yeah? We’ve both got our own things going on like you’re gonna go to uni and you’re gonna smash it’ he told you, making you laugh through your tears and he squeezed you tighter at the sound. ‘You will, I know you will. You’re the smartest person I know’

‘And you’re gonna go out to the Netherlands and show them all how amazing you are, and you’ll come back to Chelsea and get straight into that first team and I promise you, you’ll alway have me right there cheering you on’

‘Thank you’ he whispered, his face crumpling ever so slightly so you pulled him into you so you could share a hug. The both of you sad but hopeful for the future and when he squeezed you tightly you held him back just as hard.

Not too much long after, the pair of you made your way back out of the tree house so you could get home. Reaching up to leave a soft kiss on his cheek and wiping away the lipstick stain straight after but the sad smile that you weren’t sharing something more was clear on his face and you couldn’t handle upsetting him anymore so you made a swift exit.

You had no idea what to say to him, thinking it was probably best you let him come to you and just as you were starting to lose the will to live after two days of silence, a message came through from him and you opened it up as soon as you could.

You felt your heart shatter as soon as you read his text over. He didn’t have the heart to talk to you right now and he was leaving in the morning meaning you didn’t get a chance to say a proper goodbye to him.

You felt responsible for it, shooting him down like you had but you really did think it was for the best. Long distance never seemed to work and you loved Mason as your friend. Now just wasn’t a good time for the both of you as you took your different paths in life but him disappearing like he was stung.

You wanted to let him know you’d still be there for him just like you’d said you would be, that the door would always be open for him to talk to you so you sent him a text back as soon as you could. Your heart breaking a tiny bit knowing this would be the last you’d hear from him for a little while but you were starting to realise that’s what happened when you grew up.

You felt crushed. You knew he might have been a bit upset but the fact he was denying you the chance to say goodbye properly made you feel weird. Like your tummy was sinking and even though you said it was fine you could feel your bottom lip wobbling as you tried to hold in your tears.

This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen, for it to be awkward and for you to be upset with each other but you took note of what he said and believed he would text you soon. Hoping he’d miss you as much as you knew you’d miss him.

But clearly that feeling never came for him.

One week turned into a month. That month then into two and before you knew it it was Christmas and you still hadn’t heard a peep from him.

You’d kept up with what he was doing, knowing it had been hard for him the first few months out there but things had started to pick up and you wanted to speak to him more than anything. Writing out a million texts but always deleting them as you felt stupid and couldnt handle the rejection.

Thankfully with you at uni, you missed the questions from both sets of your parents. You had moved to the north east of London and it was a good few hours to get home so you only went back on breaks and holidays but the sight of Mason's tree house always haunted you.

A part of you wanted to rewind time, to be up there with him and tell him that you’d be his and you’d find a way to make it work but deep down you knew that wasn’t what you felt for him.

Whenever you did get to see his family though, they never mentioned the fact you and Mason hadn’t spoken. Clearly he was telling them everything was fine so you did the same but turned the energy you had from missing him into working extra hard and you managed to pass your first year with a 1st and at the top of your class.

You knew he’d be home soon, but you didn’t know what that meant for the pair of you. Did he want to see you? Did you want to see him? Was there any coming back for the pair of you? You had no idea, but you knew you’d have to face him at some point you just didn’t realise how soon.

Tag list - @saltyheartnightmare @harvestmount @prideofpd @sid-vii @carlottawllms @footiehoemcfc @katharinanadiaa @whenelifallsinlove @neverinadream @cityzenchick @msnmnt @stikkibun @masonmtxo @chillymountsjess @yoursselo @maseymm

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girlgenius1111 · 1 year ago

Text

we will never go back

final chapter of the great war:)

ona x reader? alessia x reader? who knows.

"Less?" You asked, dumbfounded.

"Hi." She responded, looking so unsure, so broken that you weren't quite sure what to do. All you knew was that you couldn't stand it when Alessia looked like that, no matter what had happened. Your brain was going a mile a minute, trying to figure out why Alessia was at your front door.

"Alessia... what are you doing here?"

"I- I really need to talk to you lov- y/n." Less flinched at the slip up, hoping you'd missed it. You hadn't. You felt like you were being torn in two- the part of you that loved Alessia, that would probably always love her, wanted to hear her out. The other part, the hurt part, was screaming at you to slam the door in her face. You'd always been weak when it came to her; you should have told her to go home. That would have probably been the healthy choice.

Someone cleared their throat behind you. It sounded like Mapi, but you remembered exactly who was sitting in your living room. Ona. Until this very moment, you could have sworn you were over Alessia, truly. Now, though, you stood in the doorway, physically stuck in between two people that you were suddenly sure you loved.

You forced yourself to turn, to look into Ona's warm eyes. They were blinking at you, terrified. The second you looked at Ona, it was clear what you needed to do. There wasn't a choice. How could there be?

"Let me get my keys. We can go for a drive." You said, turning back to the blonde. Relief washed over her face, and she nodded. "Just give me a sec?"

You unlocked the car, and Less headed over to it, as you briefly shut the door, turning back to the room full of your completely stunned friends. Ona was sitting on the couch next to Alexia, who was staring at you like she might hit you. Mapi's face looked similar, and you wished that this was not happening in front of them.

You walked to Ona, briskly, leaning down and grabbing her face in between your hands. She looked startled, but you pressed your lips to hers, intending to leave her with no doubt in her mind of what you were leaving to do. You only pulled back slightly when you broke the kiss, looking intently into her eyes.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

'Okay," she responded breathlessly. Mapi wolf whistled as you walked back towards the front door, and you paused just long enough to flip her off. You weren't quite sure what to expect walking opening the door and sliding into the drivers seat. Alessia didn't look like herself, and you could see her hands shaking in her lap. Starting the car, you turned to her, giving her a reassuring smile.

"It's just me, Less. Relax." With that, you pulled back out of the parking space, driving off into the foggy night air.

-----

You decided to let Alessia talk first; there was clearly a lot on her mind. So, even as the silence killed you, you allowed it to fill the car. It was suffocating, and you only felt relief when you pulled the car into a spot by the beach, overlooking the ocean.

"I'm so, so sorry." Alessia started. Her voice was already choked up, and she wiped roughly at her eyes. "Fuck, I said I wasn't going to cry."

Wordlessly, you handed her a tissue from the center console. She tried her eyes, taking a shuddery breath, before turning back to you.

"I can't express how sorry I am for what I did. There is no excuse, y/n. I know that. I just... I think you deserve an explanation. If you want one." The blonde looked at you hopefully. You nodded for her to proceed.

"I wasn't doing well. Moving to Arsenal, to London was so much harder than I expected. It's incredible and I love the team and the girls, it was just... change. And it was really hard. I was having a really hard time. Especially coming back from losing the world cup final, I was really just a complete mess. And you were here, in Barcelona, and you seemed like you were doing well. Really well, honestly. I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I should have just talked to you, but I didn't."

Alessia took a sip of water, her hands still shaking as she held the bottle. You'd never seen her look so nervous before.

"I missed you. I missed being with you and getting to spend those months together in Australia got me so used to just having you nearby. And then you weren't, and I was so lonely. I know that I could have called you, I know. Instead, I got really drunk. And went home with this random girl. I don't know why I did it, y/n. I just- I remember feeling so empty, so completely alone. I asked her to come back with me. I think about that sentence leaving my mouth every day, and I wish I could take it back."

Alessia is crying now, tears falling freely down her face. You're crying to, but not for the reason Alessia thinks. Seeing her in such pain, even now, felt like getting stabbed.

"I woke up the next morning, and I was so completely horrified with myself. I couldn't believe what I'd done. It wasn't fair of me. You are so good, y/n, you were always so good to me. Even now, when I have no right to ask you to listen, you listen anyway, and you hand me tissues, and I just. I never deserved you. And you deserved better than what I gave you. I'll be sorry for the rest of my life."

You watched her cry into her hands for a minute, and searched within yourself for the hurt that had lodged itself directly in your heart when Alessia had told you what she'd done, all those months ago. You couldn't find it. It was gone, you realized. Replaced with the feeling of falling in love. It was like snow melting, flower buds sprouting from the ground; the emergence of spring from winter. You knew you'd survived the worst of it, and you felt peace. Hope.

"I forgive you, Alessia." You said the words quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder. Her head snapped up to stare at you, eyes red and puffy, mouth gaping open.

"What?" She asked incredulously.

"I forgive you. I know you. I know your heart. You're a good person." Alessia shook her head at this, looking miserable. "No, Less, you are a good person. One mistake doesn't change that. What you did... obviously it really hurt me. I knew that you wouldn't ever do what you did if you weren't really in a dark place. The past months I've been hurt, and angry, yes. I'm not anymore. All I feel now- I just want you to be okay."

"How can you say that I'm a good person?" Alessia asked, her voice cracking over the last word.

"Because you are. I forgive you, Alessia. You need to forgive yourself."

"I don't know if I can."

"Look what you did today. You came here, flew to Barcelona on your one weekend off, to apologize to me. That is something that a bad person wouldn't bother with. The feeling of guilt inside of you, Less, that's what makes you good. And I'm sure it's suffocating. You don't need to hold it over yourself anymore. I'm okay, Less. You don't need to feel guilty anymore."

At this, Alessia broke completely, caving in on herself as sobs racked her body. You leaned across the center console, pulling her into you as best you could. She cried for a while, letting out sounds that sounded like she was breaking. You knew this was healing, though. Sometimes, you need to fall apart all the way, or you'll never get put back together correctly.

After a couple minutes, she pulled away, wiping at her face once again. Her touch was more gentle, though. You hoped it was an unconscious sign that she was forgiving herself. The blonde turned to look at you. Her blue eyes were watery, her blonde hair slighly mussed from where it had been pressed against your sweatshirt. She looked beautiful, something you knew objectively.

Looking into her eyes, you didn't feel anything romantic for her. The urge to kiss her, to wipe her tears gently off her face, to cradle her in your arms, wasn't there. You loved her, but not in the way you had before. You wanted Alessia to heal, to stay your friend. At that moment, though, all you wanted to was to go home to Ona. Your Ona.

"Do you think, if I hadn't done what I did, we could have lasted?"

"No." You said gently, despite the harshness of your answer. "I don't think we were meant to be, Less. We weren't working before you slept with her." You noticed the way she slumped at that, just a little, and you knew that her motivations for coming to Spain weren't completely innocent.

"You're going to find someone who makes you feel like you're on fire, Alessia. Like your whole being is just completely filled with love for them. You'll know when you do. And you'll deserve all of the love they'll give you."

"You sound like you know what you're talking about." She commented, smiling softly at you in the way she always did when she joked. It was a relief, to see her look happy.

"I do." You told her, a matching grin tugging at your lips.

"Ona?" She asked, taking you by surprise.

"How did you know?" You questioned, eyebrows raising comically high on your forehead.

"They streamed your match on the plane and I watched you turn into the Hulk when that girl touched her. I didn't know if you were together, but I figured you would be, at some point." Alessia admitted.

"I'm sorry, Less. I know that isn't what you wanted to hear."

Alessia shook her head. "No, you're right. We weren't working. We wouldn't have worked. It was comfortable, and safe, but it wouldn't have worked. I had to try, though."

Alessia paused, eyes searching yours. "Ona is good for you. A good match. She's always kind. She'll remind you to be kind to yourself. You forget, sometimes."

"Thank you, Lessi."

You exchanged smiles, then, the first that were completely unweighted, completely genuine. You were glad Alessia had come, that you could have this conversation with her. Your body longed for Ona, though, your arms desperate to wrap her in a hug, squash any lingering anxiety she was feeling.

-----

You pulled back into your driveway, alone. You'd dropped Alessia at Keira and Lucy's instructing her to rest there, before flying back to London. You knew they'd take good care of her, and you had other priorities. You noticed as you walked into the house, that Alexia's car was gone, which was odd.

You continued on, slipping in through the door, sliding your shoes off, and turning to the living room. Only Ingrid and Mapi sat in there; Mapi with an expression of extreme guilt on her face. Ona was gone, as was Alexia.

"Where is she?" You asked frantically, eyes searching the room like you were going to find your girlfriend hidden behind a couch cushion.

"She left. A little after you did. I don't really know, she just asked Alexia to take her home, and we tried to talk to her, but she just kept saying she wanted to go home."

"Why, why didn't you stop her?"

"We tried, but..."

"But what, León?" You shouted. Ingrid looked between the two of you nervously, but stayed silent.

"I- I asked Ona if she thought you were going to get back together with Alessia. I guess, after you kissed her, she wasn't nervous, but then I asked, and she realized it could have been a goodbye kiss or something, and she just freaked out."

You stood frozen, body trembling with anger. Mapi stood, moving closer to you. "Amiga, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to-" she began.

You lurched forward, hands connected with her chest as you shoved her backwards. She simply let you, not raising a single hand in her own defense. Ingrid stood from the couch, moving to get in between the two of you, but Mapi shook her head at her girlfriend.

"Mapi what the fuck? Why would you say that to her?" You were yelling now, right in your teammate's face. She looked distraught; you knew how much she cared for you, and for Ona. She was probably just trying to prepare her, be a good friend. You didn't care about any of that now. You shoved her once more, ignoring Ingrid's hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you away from her girlfriend.

You whipped around, charging towards the door, but Ingrid was faster, ripping your keys out of your hand. You rounded on her, but her calm expression made you pause.

"Breathe. I'll drive you. You're in no state to get behind the wheel. Come on." Ingrid said reasonably. You looked down at your trembling hands, feeling the unsteadiness in your legs, and realized she was right. You agreed, and Ingrid led you out the door towards her car. After a minute, you heard the front door shut, and saw Mapi standing awkwardly on the porch. You felt a pang of guilt for how you'd acted.

"Get in." You called, as you threw yourself into the passenger seat. Mapi practically bounded towards the car, eyes wide as she slid into the backseat.

"Amiga,"

"We'll talk about it later." Mapi fell silent, as did you. The car remained uneasily quiet as you drove to Ona's place. You called her, more than once, and got no answer. You were flying out of the car the minute Ingrid pulled up, racing towards your girlfriend's door. You probably should have knocked, but you couldn't stand another minute without Ona knowing, being completely sure, that you loved her. You wanted her.

You threw open the door, and marched inside. Alexia and Ona were frozen on the couch. Ona was practically collapsed into Alexia's arms, tears streaming down her face, as Alexia looked helplessly at you. if you had to take a wild guess, it would be that Alexia was trying to convince Ona that you weren't going to break up with her and take Alessia back, and that it wasn't working very well.

"Oni," you said softly, feeling an indescribable pain ripple through you at the sigh of tears on her face. You closed the gap between the two of you, taking Ale's spot on the couch. She moved towards the door, stopping when she was next to Mapi and Ingrid, who were watching on. You wanted to tell them to fuck off, and go somewhere else, but your attention was completely focused on Ona's agonized face in front of yours.

"Oni, baby," you whispered, tilting her chin up, and forcing her to make eye contact with you. You couldn't help but lean in, lightly kissing her cheek. She pushed you away, though, moving far away from you on the couch.

"No, stop. Stop kissing me when you are going to break up with me," she cried.

"I am not breaking up with you, Ona. Not today, not ever. Come here, please." You begged. Tentatively, Ona moved back over, until she was just close enough for you to grip her hand in yours. "Oni, I love you. I spoke with Alessia for closure, for both of us. I was not ever, ever going to get back together with her. I love Alessia, as a friend. What I feel for her, what I felt for her, does not compare to what I feel for you. Ona, you are it for me. It's been a few months, and I know that already. You are the only one I want."

Ona blinked at you, bottom lip trembling. "You are not getting back together with her?" She asked, almost in disbelief.

"No."

"You- you are not.. going to..." Ona stumbled over her words, her deep voice so unsure, so vulnerable.

"The only place I'm going, Ona, is wherever you go. I love you." You figured if you said it enough times, it would have to sink in. Evidently, you were right, because Ona surged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around you as she cried into your neck. "I've got you, my love. I'm yours." You whispered.

"Te amo más que a nada," the brunette responded, words a warm exhale on your neck. They were just for you, not for the girls watching from the doorway, where Ingrid was discreetly trying to wipe a tear away. Your skin was wet with her tears, and she clung to you so tightly it almost hurt. You didn't care. If this was what she needed, you'd stay here forever.

-----

It was hours later, both of you curled up in Ona's bed, when you asked Ona something that had been on your mind.

"Why did you think I would get back with her?" You asked, the words mumbled into her hair.

"When I saw you guys together in Manchester, you seemed so happy. I just thought you would want that again, if you could have it."

"I am one hundred times happier now than I was then, Oni. I've never been as happy as I am when I'm with you."

"That is what Alexia said. And Ingrid. And Mapi, but she was following up on her question of whether I thought you were going to take Alessia back, so I did not really believe her." Ona laughed.

You chuckled. "I almost hit her when she told me what she said."

Ona turned her head on your chest to look up at you. "Two in one day? What stopped you?"

"I knew she was just trying to look out for you." You replied, not meeting Ona's eyes.

"I mean, she was. But I do not believe you. You were scared of Ingrid, yes?"

You threw your head back on the pillow sighing loudly. "Fine! She was mad at Mapi too, but she never would have let me punching her girlfriend go unpunished." You both laughed. Ingrid could be stern, and scary, but the thought of her retaliating was comical.

Your phone rang, then, and you picked it up, seeing Alexia's name and contact picture on your screen. You rolled your eyes. "They're obsessed with us. Cannot leave us along."

"Always have to be in our business, hearing our sickening love confessions," Ona agreed, smirking at you.

You picked up anyway. "Hola, Ale."

"Have you seen twitter?" She asked.

"No. Do you even have twitter, Capi?"

"No, Olga does. You fighting with that girl who fouled Ona is everywhere. You two are the new rumor. It's everywhere, I don't know how you missed it."

"We've been busy." Ona called, and you stifled a laugh as Alexia made retching noise over the phone.

"No! Por favor, no. You are my children, seeing you kiss is bad enough, I do not need to hear this." Alexia complained.

You and Ona cracked up. "Thanks for calling and telling us, Ale."

"Of course. I'll see you guys tomorrow for recovery."

"We'll try to make it, we might still be busy." You teased, seeing Ona blush next to you.

"NO! Basta! I do not want to hear this. You will be at recovery on time, and if I see one mark on either of you, I will throw up."

You laughed your way through goodbyes, before hanging up and opening twitter. Your timeline was covered in different videos and angles of you losing it on the girl that had tackled Ona. People had, clearly, figured out what was going on.

"I feel bad for the Luna stans." You said.

"I feel bad for the ones that think I am in a throuple with Keira and Lucy." Ona replied.

You pulled Ona back on top to straddle you, pressing your lips to hers in a sweet kiss. "Everyone knows now. Any regrets?"

"None. You look hot with a black eye, anyway. You should get them more often."

"Keep calling me hot, and I'll punch myself in the face every morning." Ona dropped her head on your chest, laughing into your skin.

"I love you." She said, leaning up to press her forehead to yours. The mood wasn't joking anymore, it was suddenly intimate, emotional.

"I love you too. Más que nada." You whispered against her lips.

"Más que nada." Ona agreed.

More than anything; anything and anyone that could get in the way. You loved Ona more than all of it.

-----

fin :)

hope the ending was what everyone was hoping for!

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #ona batlle x reader #barcelona femeni x reader

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supernovafics · 5 months ago

Text

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k words

warnings: explicit language, overall a very sweet and wholesome chapter 🫶🏾 (before things go slightly 📉 in the next one)

summary: you spend valentine’s day (well, night) with steve

CHAPTER TEN | ❝𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖❞

Spring Semester 2016

“You should still come. I want you to.” How genuine Eddie’s words sounded almost made you want to say yes, but you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“No, I’d rather not be a third wheel with you and Chrissy for a week,” You said, keeping your voice playful even though your words were a thousand percent serious. You shifted a bit on your bed, crossing your legs under yourself.

“That’s not gonna happen,” He responded and that was when you looked up from the book you had in your hand and over to where Eddie was sitting at your small desk— you’d been stuck reading and rereading the same page since he showed up to your dorm room five minutes ago.

You knew that the plans for spring break had changed long before Eddie even realized that they did. There was no way that you’d be spending the week with him in his hometown— he had Chrissy now. What did surprise you was that he still wanted you to come, which was a nice thought but a horrible idea. And you couldn’t tell him exactly why you felt that way.

Yes, your feelings for him were buried, but that didn’t mean that you wanted to have a front-row seat to his and Chrissy’s relationship for a week— the PDA, the cute stuff, everything. You’d immediately end up as a third wheel, and you didn’t believe Eddie’s words of “that not happening.”

“It’s inevitable,” You told him, and before he could potentially protest your words, you shifted the subject just slightly. “And besides, my roommate is already gone, so I’ll get to have the room to myself this entire week and that will be nice.”

Eddie considered your words for a second. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Very.”

He was quiet for another moment and you wondered if he was going to ask you again if you were sure or if he was going to say something else to try and convince you to come, but instead, he said, “Okay, but call any night you hate the quiet and just want to talk about nothing.”

Hearing him say that made you smile. “Got it. Thanks.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Spring Semester 2018

For the first time probably ever, it was quiet in your apartment.

Everyone had gone to some romcom movie marathon thing at the close by movie theater; it started at seven and was going until midnight. You, of course, wanted to go too, but you instead told everyone that you had something planned with Steve for the night. Since it was Valentine’s Day, you figured that it would’ve probably seemed weird if you and him didn’t have “something planned.”

Your actual plans for the night were still uncertain to you. You contemplated staying in your room or heading to the library to study so that you could just get out of the apartment for the time being.

You were still in the middle of deciding what to do when your phone started ringing on your desk. The only name you expected to see was Steve’s, and you were right.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He started. “Are you home right now?”

“Yeah,” You answered as you sat at the foot of your bed. “Oh, shit, is this the part where you murder me?”

Steve laughed a bit. “If the answer was yes, I wouldn’t tell you that.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a murdering right now. I’m really bored.”

“Great, I’ll be there in ten minutes,” He responded and then added, “Not to murder you, by the way. I just need to give you something.”

“And by something, you mean a knife to my heart. What a great Valentine’s day present.”

Steve laughed again. “You’re being weirder than usual.”

There was something about how amused he sounded that made you smile. “Thanks. See you in ten.”

He was knocking on your door fifteen minutes later, and you still hadn’t come to a decision about what you wanted to do for the rest of the night.

“Hi, your elevator really sucks.”

You almost laughed at that since you knew exactly how shitty the elevator in the building could be. “Yeah, you got lucky when you were here for game night.”

It was then that you noticed everything in his hands; the flowers and red gift bag that you could only assume had your favorite candy in it.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” You told him as you opened the door further so that he could come in.

“Of course, I had to. I already told you that I like being a good fake boyfriend,” He joked, smiling at you.

“In that case, thank you,” You said as he handed everything over to you; and you couldn’t help but take note of how nice the daisies were. “And I don’t really care about being a good fake girlfriend, but I actually did get you something too.”

You started heading toward your room and gestured for him to follow you.

You placed the flowers and gift bag on your desk and then grabbed the small stuffed brown bear that was wearing a red bowtie and handed it over to Steve.

“Wow, great minds,” He said, and before you could ask him what he meant, he continued. “Look in the bag.”

You nodded as you looked in the red gift bag, seeing the sour gummy worms, which you expected, and then also a stuffed bear. It was brown too but it was holding a red heart in its hands. You smiled at it and then at Steve as you pulled it out.“Thank you, but Bowie’s better.”

“Bowie?”

“The name of your bear,” You said, gesturing to what he was still holding in his hand. “Because of the bow tie. Bowie.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one who gets to name it?”

“No,” You said simply.

“Okay, then,” Steve nodded, an amused smile on his face.

Things became quiet for a second, comfortably so, until he was speaking again. “I’m just realizing that it’s actually quiet here for once. Where’s everyone?”

“They went to this romcom movie marathon thing at the movie theater,” You answered as you put the bear back in the bag and pulled out the gummy worms. “I told them that I had plans with you since it would’ve been weird if I didn’t.”

“Makes sense,” Steve nodded. “What are your actual plans for the night?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe watch a movie here or go to the library to do some work. Or maybe try to be a normal person and attempt to get a decent number of hours of sleep for once.”

“We should do something.”

Just for a second, you considered saying no to his suggestion because maybe he was just saying it to be nice and he didn’t really mean it. The equivalence of someone asking “How are you?” and always answering them with “Good,” even if that wasn’t true, because it was just easier and they probably didn’t even mean the question in the first place.

But, you and Steve were passed that kind of thing. If he asked you how you were doing, you knew that you’d be honest with him, and you believed that that feeling was mutual. You also believed that he wouldn’t say something to you if he didn’t mean it.

And that realization was what made you ultimately nod at his words. “Okay. What do you wanna do?”

He smiled then. “I already have an idea, but I think it should be a surprise.”

You gave him a look. “I can’t tell if I should be scared of that smile or not.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna murder you.”

“I think that’s exactly what a murderer would say,” You told him, but still changed into something that would be better for the cool mid-February weather and followed him out of your apartment and to the shitty elevators and then to his car.

The streets he drove down were familiar until they weren’t, and it became hard to tell where you two were going, but you kind of liked that; the not knowing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“What makes this even more embarrassing right now is that I know that you’re trying to let me win.”

“I’m not,” Steve responded as he shot another basket and missed again. “I just haven’t played in a long time so I’m a little rusty.”

You shook your head. “You’re a bad liar.”

It was a twenty minute drive to the arcade that you and Steve ended up at. You had never heard of Mac’s, but Steve claimed that it was great, and after just the first half an hour of being there you could admit that he was right. You wondered how often he’d bring girls here; this place was a solid date idea, so you imagined that it had to be a “go-to.” But you didn’t ask that— you didn't ask why he wanted to bring you here or why it had been the first place that had come to his mind. Instead, you continued playing games with him, deciding not to wonder about anything else.

Playing against each other in basketball was your suggestion even though you knew that you’d probably lose since only one of you was good at the actual game. But, there were eighteen seconds left and Steve was only up by two points in what was probably the lowest-scoring game of arcade basketball ever— ten points for you to his twelve.

You gave him a playful smile. “You’re allowed to bruise my ego a bit since I demolished you twice in skee-ball.”

“You only won by a hundred points the first time and fifty points the second, so I wouldn’t necessarily call those the “greatest wins of all time.””

“Shut up, they were fantastic wins,” You responded as you watched the timers above your and his baskets go down to eight seconds.

You shot again and missed and expected that to be it; you didn’t want to shoot more and just embarrass yourself further. But, when the timer hit five seconds, Steve almost too easily shot two of his balls into your basket, which made you two end the game tied.

You looked at him. “I can’t believe you just gave me pity points.”

“No, I just missed my basket really badly and accidentally made it in yours,” Steve said and you laughed as you shook your head and then grabbed the five tickets that came out of your machine and his for playing the game.

You stuffed them into your jacket pocket along with all of the others that you and he had gotten over the past hour and then looked up at him. “Now, I’m starting to question my tiebreaker air hockey win.”

Steve smiled at you. “No, that was real. You’re actually good at that.”

“I feel kind of offended that you said “actually good,” but thank you anyway, I guess,” You laughed again as you pulled the final two tokens out of the back pocket of your jeans. “Should we use these last ones on the rigged claw machine?”

Steve nodded. “Great idea.”

You two had tried it earlier— it was actually the first thing that you and he did when you got to the arcade, as per Steve’s suggestion. When you went, you actually managed to grab something but it slipped out of the dumb claw at the last second, and the same thing happened to Steve. The odds now didn’t feel better at all, but you figured it was the easiest way to use the last tokens you two had.

“Are we trying for the stuffed green frog again?” Steve asked when you handed the tokens over to him and he put them in the machine, starting the sixty-second timer for the game.

You shook your head, eyes on the random toys that were in the machine. “I think we should play it safe and do that red ball in the middle. It’ll probably be easier to get.”

“Okay,” He said, and started moving the claw and then lowered it in what looked like the right spot, but the hand couldn't get a good grip on the ball so it immediately slipped out of its loose grasp.

You sighed. “So rigged. And a very sad way to end our arcade run. But, at least, we’ll be able to get something good with our tickets.”

Steve shook his head. “The only bad part about this place is that the prizes are kinda shitty.”

“So we won’t be able to get something equivalent to the green frog?”

“Probably not,” He answered and you sighed overdramatically again. “And we should stay away from the candy too. I’m pretty sure it’s been sitting behind the counter since this place opened.”

You two headed over to the lackluster “prize counter” and ended up with two palm tree keychains because that was somehow the only thing that your and Steve’s collective ninety-eight tickets could get.

“You wanna go to the pizza place down the street?” He asked as you two stepped out of the arcade and onto the sidewalk. He gestured his head in the direction of the pizza place and you noticed the red and white checkered awning and glowing sign at the end of the block. “They’re pretty good.”

“Okay,” You nodded, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jacket when a gust of wind hit you both. “But, I’m buying since you got everything here.”

“I can’t let that happen,” Steve responded, but you simply shook your head at him.

“Stop being so chivalrous and let me do something nice for you for once.”

He laughed at how serious you sounded. “Okay, fine.”

You two kept walking, and then you were thinking of something and saying it before you could really consider your words. “It honestly sucks that you don’t want anything serious with anyone because you really would be a good boyfriend.” You weren’t sure why you were telling him that right then, but it was the truth. You looked over at him for a quick second. “Y’know, you never explained why you don’t do relationships.”

You remembered that during the night of the power outage, you were going to ask him pretty much that exact thing. When he mentioned his camp girlfriend and their three-week-long relationship, you wanted to know what happened to him wanting things like that— crushes, relationships, actual feelings for someone— but you felt like you couldn’t ask that then. However, for some reason, in this moment, bringing up that subject didn’t feel like it would be too much anymore— it no longer felt too deep or too real. It surprisingly felt normal.

Maybe that said a lot about this friendship you two had developed— which still hadn’t been outwardly stated was an actual friendship, but it so obviously felt like one.

“I don’t know,” You noticed him shrug. “I just don’t want to, I guess.”

“Did you get your heart broken and still haven’t fully recovered from it?”

Steve got quiet then instead of laughing at your joking question, which made you realize that you were actually right.

“Wait, shit, really?” You stopped walking for a second and looked at him. He gave you a quick nod and you immediately felt terrible. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was years ago at this point— it happened Senior year of high school— and it also doesn’t really matter,” Steve shrugged. “And I am over it, actually, I just don’t want something like that to happen again, so…” He shrugged for a third time, which didn’t do much to convince you that it “didn’t really matter.”

“I guess that makes sense, but that’s kinda sad, I think?” You two had started walking again and you took the briefest look over at him as you spoke. “Letting one person change the way you feel about love and relationships and stuff. That sucks.”

“When you put it in simple terms like that it does sound sad, but I don’t know, I don’t really feel that way,” Steve said, and his words surprisingly sounded honest. “And I won’t be against it forever— you already know that my parents would kill me. But for right now, it’s just easier. A lot easier.”

You found yourself agreeing with him. Your life would probably be a thousand times easier if you viewed things like he did.

“Okay, yeah, I get that,” You ultimately nodded. You two made it to the pizza place and he opened the door for you and you smiled at him in thanks. “It still doesn’t change the fact that some lucky girl out there is sadly missing out on the Steve Harrington boyfriend experience, though.”

“Eddie’s missing out too,” He said and then playfully smiled at you. “Even though I know you’ll never get me curtains, you’re still a good fake girlfriend.”

You laughed as you both stepped into place behind the other people in line. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I finally think that this whole fake dating thing will actually end up working.”

“You didn’t think it was gonna work before?”

“I mean, before I thought maybe it could, but now I feel more sure about it,” You answered, and it kind of surprised you how okay it felt saying those words and admitting that to Steve.

There was still the smallest part of you that felt like maybe you were wrong about this— like you’d been with other things regarding you and Eddie a bunch of times before. However, it was also easier to shut that side of your mind down and go with the side of you that both wanted this to happen and felt like it genuinely could.

And you knew that all of this had to do with Steve. You didn’t think you’d feel this certain about things if it wasn’t for him. He was that someone to tell you that the situation wasn’t helpless and you weren’t overthinking things, and you believed him.

“You’re right,” You told him when you two were sitting in one of the booths, but you were referring to the slice of pizza in your hand. “This is really good.”

“Told you,” Steve said and then smiled. “And if we ever come back here, I’m buying.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “I guess I’ll allow that.”

“Good,” He responded, and then it was quiet for a moment until it seemed as if he realized something. “Oh, and it’s Hartford, by the way.”

“What?”

“The name of the bear I got for you,” Steve explained. “Since you named the one you got for me, I get to name the one I got you.”

“Okay. Hartford,” You nodded and gave him a small smile. “I like that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington series #eddie munson series #stranger things series #stranger things fluff

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goddessinnerglow · 2 months ago

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Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 5

Setting SMART Goals That Actually Stick

Yesterday we dug deep into our core values, and today we're going to channel that into something practical and exciting, setting goals that actually work. But not just any goals. We're talking about goals that make you jump out of bed in the morning, that align with who you really are.

You know that feeling when you set a New Year's resolution and by January 15th it's already forgotten? Yeah, we've all been there. But here's the thing, it's not your fault. The problem isn't your willpower; it's probably how the goal was set in the first place.

Let me share something that changed everything for me. A while back, I had this vague goal of "getting healthier." Sounds familiar? Weeks went by, and I felt stuck because what does "healthier" even mean? But when I changed it to "I will walk for 20 minutes every morning while listening to my favorite podcast," something clicked. Suddenly, it was clear, doable, and actually fun!

That's the magic of SMART goals: Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound. But don't let these fancy words scare you. Think of them as your goal's best friends, making sure it succeeds.

Let's transform your dreams into reality together. Take out your journal (I know you have it nearby after yesterday!) and think about something you really want to achieve. Got it? Now, let's make it SMART:

Instead of "I want to read more," try "I will read one chapter of a book every night before bed for the next month." Instead of "I need to save money," try "I will save $100 each month by bringing lunch to work three times a week." Instead of "I should exercise more," try "I will do a 15-minute workout video every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning."

See how these feel more real, more doable? They give you a clear path to follow.

Here's your chance to create your own. Pick one thing you want to achieve. Now, let's break it down:

Make it Specific: What exactly do you want to do?

Make it Measurable: How will you track your progress?

Make it Achievable: Can you realistically do this?

Make it Relevant: Does this align with your values?

Make it Time-bound: When will you achieve this by?

Write down your SMART goal. Put it somewhere you'll see it every day: your mirror, your phone wallpaper, your coffee mug. Make it impossible to ignore.

But here's the secret, the part most people skip. Break that goal down into tiny, daily actions. I mean really tiny. Want to write a book? Start with writing just 100 words a day. Want to run a marathon? Begin with walking around your block.

And most importantly, celebrate these small wins! Did you write those 100 words? Do a little dance! Did you walk around the block? Text a friend and brag about it! These celebrations tell your brain, "Hey, this feels good, let's do it again!"

Keep in mind, this isn't about being perfect. It's about progress. Some days won't go as planned, and that's okay. The goal isn't your boss, it's your friend, helping you become who you want to be.

See you tomorrow for Day 6 of our journey to become our best selves before 2025!

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

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cheeby · 2 months ago

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The weight of what comes next

read chapter 1 here

content: a multi-part isekai story. reader is aware of the plot, and every minor character is aged up. Jujutsu high is now the University of Jujutsu.

18+, eventual smut

Chapter 2-

“You’re coming with me.” He states plainly, leaving no room for argument.

“With you? What? No!” You blurt. You know exactly where he plans to take you, Jujutsu High. You’re too old to be stuck in high school again, and the thought of learning alongside a bunch of 15 year olds? Mortifying! Plus, you didn't actually intend to get involved with the plot of Jujutsu Kaisen. You’ve seen the show. You don’t want to die! You were sort of just banking on the hope that you’d stay out of trouble until you somehow… made your way back into your own world?

But Nanami’s tone is unyielding, and you know that this gorgeous hunk of a man always gets his way. Wait, gorgeous hunk of a man? Who thinks like that? Stop being so weird! Focus! “Like I said earlier, it’s not safe for you here.” Nanami says, his voice softening, but still remaining quite firm. “If you come with me, I can ensure you’ll be protected against those curses you’ve been seeing. If not, out here, its a free-for-all. If someone worse than me comes along, I can’t guarantee they won’t drag you along with them regardless.”

You hesitate. There’s not much you can do, admittedly. What other choice do you really have? You know you’d be earning some sort of money, working on missions at Jujutsu High, but seriously... you’re too old for high school again. Those were easily the worst years of your life, and you don’t want to relive even a moment of it, whether or not you'd be studying with the plebs from your old high school. But, you also know you can't let much on about knowing about Jujutsu High... You sigh, resigning yourself to fate.

“Okay, fine..” You mutter, casting your gaze away from Nanami, staring at the ground like a scolded child. Nanami nods curtly, before taking a step back and making a call to someone, ordering a car to your location. After hanging up, he turns to you. “What’s your name?” He asks. Oh, right. You haven't even introduced yourself! “Oh! My name is (Y/N) (L/N)!” You say quickly, feeling a blush creeping up to your ears. He nods, studying you. “Well then, (L/N), thank you for trusting me. A car will be here shortly, to take you somewhere where you'll be kept safe.” He says. “I'm Nanami Kento, a grade 1 sorcerer.” He says, a hint of pride in his voice with the last part.

“Oh, uh, you don’t have to call me (L/N),” you try explaining, waving your hands. You’re not originally from Japan, and in your home country its uncommon to be called by your last name, so you’re not used to it. “You can just call me (Y/N)!” You insist.

He raises a brow. “Not from Japan, huh?” He quietly remarks, before nodding. “Alright, (Y/N) then.” Before either of you can say much more, a sleek black sedan pulls into the street you’re waiting on. You squint. Is that.. Ijichi? It is! Wow, he looks exactly like he does in the anime! Whereas Nanami looks impossibly better in real life, Ijichi… well he’s just Ijichi. Nanami opens the back door for you. You slide in, and he closes the door before returning to the front of the car to sit in the passenger seat. The drive to Jujutsu High is fairly quiet, save for Nanami and Ijichi talking amongst themselves occasionally. They don’t even try to hide the fact they’re talking about you. Meanwhile, you’re glued to the window, drinking in the sights of Tokyo in front of you. You’ve never been before, being a broke university student, but you’ve always wanted to. Everything seems sleek and modern, and even though you live in a major city for university, Tokyo just seems even bigger, and more shiny. You watch as the scenery changes from high glass clad skyscrapers to dense viridian forestry. Eventually, you pull into what you think is the grounds of Jujutsu High. There are large ancient looking temple buildings surrounding you, and your excitement turns into awe. The architecture is totally neat!

The car pulls stops in front of a sprawling, temple-like building. Nanami gets out first, and opens your door, ever the gentleman. “Well, (Y/N), welcome to the University of Jujutsu.” He says, gesturing ahead. University of Jujutsu? Huh? You were 100% sure in the anime it was a high school… unless this building is something else? No, it couldn’t possibly be, it looked exactly like what Jujutsu High did in the anime… this stuff was really messing with your head now. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you get out of the car and look ahead at the building in front of you.

You feel a sudden gust of wind, and standing before you now is a familiar white haired man with a blindfold on. His smile feels almost too wide to be genuine.

“Woah, Nanami, you’re right— She is totally weird!” The white haired man exclaims. But you can barely register what he’s saying. GOJO?! The Satoru Gojo is standing in front of you, in the flesh? All 6’3 of him? There’s no way! “Go- I mean, its nice to meet you!” You blabber, catching yourself before you say his name. This seems to be a theme, you think. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), but please just call me (Y/N)!” You say, reaching a hand out stupidly.

He makes a point of tilting his head down—to look?— at your hand, before taking it in his own and shaking it. “Satoru Gojo. But you already seem to know that, hm?” His grin is positively Cheshire-like. Your eyes widen. “Y-yes! Nanami mentioned you in the car..” You lie hastily. You weren’t actually sure if Nanami had said anything about Gojo, you were too busy staring at his chiselled face to pay attention, but he probably did… right? Nanami grunts in affirmation, confirming your statement. Phew! That was close.

Gojo hums in reply, not totally convinced, but choosing to let it slide. “Sooo, a little birdie told me you’ve been causing quite the stir.” What? Quite the stir? Not really, you think. It was really just one cursed spirit lunging at you.. but whatever. You stay silent, letting him continue.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Nanami interjects. “But I began tailing her after running into her for the first time. Then, a cursed spirit attacked her, but she dodged with.. inhumane speed. She claims not to know about cursed energy, but no ordinary human moves like that. And surely, you can see that energy radiating off of her?”

Gojo tilts his head, playful smile faltering and being replaced by a more serious expression. It suits him, you think, in your fangirl daze.

“Nanami, come with me. You,” He says, then turning to face you. "Ijichi will take you inside.”

Before you can protest, Ijichi steps out of the car, gesturing politely at you to follow him. You glance back at Gojo and Nanami as they walk off, feeling like you’re about to be thrust into something far bigger than you ever wanted to be a part of.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Gojo leads Nanami into an empty room and closes the door behind them. Turning to Nanami, he speaks in a low voice. “No, I can’t.. see her energy.” He admits, quietly.

Nanami’s face pales. “What? That can't be possible.” Gojo nods, frowning. “No, seriously. I can absolutely feel her energy, its thick, and foggy, almost. But I can't see it. She looks as if she’s got absolutely no cursed energy whatsoever. I can’t make sense of it.”

“Is it possible she’s concealing it?” Nanami asks.

“Maybe.” Gojo replies, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “And if that’s the case, she’s incredibly powerful, and knows a lot more than what she’s letting on. We couldn’t afford to let her slip through our fingers. Buuut…” He trails off, his lips curling into a small smirk. “She doesn’t strike me as cunning enough for that. At least, not yet. Still, no way of knowing for sure.”

Nanami sighs, crossing his arms. “She seems about Fushiguro’s age. Should we enrol her?”

Gojo tilts his head, considering.

“It’s risky. If she does turn out to be dangerous, Megumi could be in some serious danger. Not that he can't handle himself, but the boy is an idiot sometimes.” Gojo chuckles. “But, it seems like the best idea. We can't just babysit her all the time, and at least if she’s in the school, Yaga will also be able to keep an eye on her.” “And the higher-ups?” Nanami asks, his tone cautious. “Absolutely not.” Gojo’s grin returns. “They’ll lose their minds if they become aware of her. Her energy isn’t like anything I’ve ever felt, and that’s bound to scare those old fucks.” He snickers. Nanami nods, reluctantly agreeing. “We’ll pitch it to Yaga, then. He’d obviously want some sort of interview with her though, which is tricky. So far, I think she’s just got… good reflexes?”

“Hm…” Gojo hums thoughtfully. “Well, her energy signature speaks for itself. I’m sure Yaga will get it, when he sees it for himself.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Meanwhile, Ijichi leads you to a large room with plush sofas. You take a seat, unsure if you should say anything to him. You decide not to, in the end. Ijichi similarly doesn’t say anything to you, and the silence stretches uncomfortably. You feel too awkward to pull out your phone—it seems rude— so you’re left with nothing but your thoughts and boredom.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Nanami and Gojo return. Gojo claps his hands together, with that signature grin back on his face. “Good news, kid!” He exclaims, grinning like a kid. “You’re being admitted to our university!”

“What?” You sputter, at a loss for words. You didnt want to stay here! Sure, you enjoyed jujutsu kaisen as an anime, all the guys were hot, and the plot was cool and every fight scene was totally badass. But you knew you weren’t cut out for this. Being a sorcerer? You get winded walking up one flight of stairs!

“It’s the best possible outcome.” Nanami says, in that resolute tone of his. “You’ll attend an interview shortly, but we’ve already sorted it all out, you’ll be enrolled for certain here. There’s currently.. only one other first year student, but we anticipate more students that will join as the year goes on.” He says. Your eyes widen. Is he talking about.. Megumi? Wait, so does this mean that he’s your age here? Before you can ask anything, Gojo grabs your arm and whisks you away. You manage to wave goodbye at Ijichi and Nanami. Gojo leads you through a maze of corridors before stopping in front of two large ornate doors.

“The interview room. Or, technically, just principal Yaga’s office.” He grins at you. “Just remember kid, be yourself!” and with that, he pushes open the doors and ushers you inside. You blink, adjusting to the darkness in here. You see Yaga, sitting at the far end of the room, surrounded by his puppets. He doesn’t even look up, just continuing on his current project, making a cute pink bunny.

“You’re right, Gojo. Her cursed energy is something completely else.” Yaga says, his voice gruff. Finally, he looks up to meet your gaze. “Principal Yaga,” He introduces himself. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

You open and close your mouth, stupidly. It figures that he would already know your name, if Gojo’s mentioned you. “You’ve had no prior training as a sorcerer?” He asks.

You shake your head quickly. “No, sir.” “How long have you been able to see curses?” He presses.

“Uh… only recently, honestly.” You decide to tell the truth. You had literally started seeing them today, but saying that feels like a bad idea, so you leave it vague.

Yaga nods thoughtfully. “Usually, there is an initiation battle for new students, but as far as I’m aware, you don’t know how to properly activate your cursed technique or manipulate your cursed energy, correct?” He asks.

“Yes, sir, I think so.” you reply nervously.

Yaga studies you for a moment, then nods.

“No matter, we’ll help you. Welcome to the University of Jujutsu. You’ll be starting lessons on Monday. You will stay in the dormitories, and Gojo will brief you on the rest of the things you’ll need to know.”

“Thank you, Principal Yaga!” You manage.

Yaga dismisses you with a wave, and you exit the room with Gojo, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet. He looks deep in thought. “Well,” he finally mutters. “that was the quickest and most underwhelming interview ever.”

He shakes his head. "I'll show you to your room. There's currently only one other first-year student, like Nanami said earlier. Your room will be next to his."

As Gojo leads you through the corridors once more, you hear the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway you’re in. Gojo glances over his shoulder, a grin forming on his face. “Oh, speak of the devil. Here’s that fellow first-year buddy,” Gojo chuckles. “Megumi! C’mon over!”

¤━━━¤°¤━━━¤°¤━━━¤°¤━━━¤

Thank you for reading! i'll be updating every wednesday. this chapter was a lil slow paced i admit, but only to add in a solid structure so the future chapters make more sense. see you next week!

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crowsofdarkness · 17 days ago

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Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Four

*gif not mine. credit to owner*

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

The loud hiss of the coffee machine as it brewed a new pot was muffled, almost background noise, as I stood in the break room with a far off look in my eyes. My mind was filled with thoughts, impure thoughts, of the man that had been held up in his office all morning.

His large hands roaming over every inch of my skin. His lips left their mark in the crevice of my neck. I couldn’t stop the way I shivered as I thought of our naked, hot bodies, wrapped tangled together in the sheets, our moans echoing throughout the room.

“God, Y/N. He’s married,” I grumbled to myself, coming back to reality.

With a soft sigh, I poured the fresh coffee into my cup and took my time in getting back to my desk. There was a long list of things I needed to get done today at work but with the very intense thoughts of Bucky, it was becoming difficult to finish that list.

The last few days had been confusing, Bucky being hot one moment then cold the next. It was soft brushes of his hand against mine or his hand on my lower back as he talked to me about something with work. It never bothered me, loving the way it felt. But I’m then reminded of Natasha by her randomly showing up at the office or calling Bucky. I felt instant regret for being so close to him that I had to force myself to step away from him.

Bucky would change when Natasha showed up, becoming cold and not bothering to look my way. I could never blame him or get upset with him because she was his wife. I refused to be stuck in the middle between their marriage, knowing that it was so wrong. But being with Bucky felt so right that I craved it.

“Fresh pot?”

I looked away from my computer and noticed Bucky leaning against the frame of his office door. Even with his tired eyes, I marveled at how blue they were, especially with the bright blue shirt he was wearing.

“I can bring you a cup if you’d like,” I said.

He nodded. “That would be great. Thanks Y/N.”

We shared a smile and I scurried back into the break room to pour him a cup of coffee.

I gave a soft knock on his opened door and he stood with a bright smile again, taking the extended coffee with a nod of thanks.

“Long morning?”

Bucky hummed after taking a sip. “I’ve been on the phone all morning trying to deal with one of my men dealing on a forbidden corner.”

“Oh,” I slowly nodded. “What happened?”

His brow perked. “Are you sure you want to know about what exactly I do here?”

I shrugged. “I mean, I had a feeling of what you did when I first took the job and I’m still here.”

Bucky let out a deep breath of hesitation, unsure if it was a good idea to divulge his business with me.

“Sam said he saw Peter dealing his drugs in Barton’s neighborhood,” Bucky informed me.

“Peter Parker?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Hasn’t he been a problem for you for quite awhile?”

It was true. There had been a few times that I was ordered to have Peter come into the office to meet with Bucky. Every meeting always ended the same; Peter apologizing and saying it wouldn’t happen again.

Until it did.

Bucky pinched his eyes shut with his vibranium fingers. “I don’t know what else to do with him.”

“I thought Clint Barton doesn’t like outsiders in his neighborhood.”

He looked at me with slight shock and I merely shrugged. “I know some things about the other gangs in New York.”

“So you know that if an outsider is caught in his neighborhood that they typically don’t make it out alive,” Bucky said.

My eyes doubled in size. “Did he kill Parker? He’s just a kid.”

“No,” he shook his head. “It took a lot of convincing on my end but Barton let Parker go with a warning only. Which saves my ass.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Parker brings in good money, he knows the perfect clientele for his drugs.”

A thought quickly slammed into me.

“Is working for you considered illegal? With everything you do,” my fingers fidgeted with nerves.

Bucky’s blue eyes softened while he stood from his desk and walked over towards me, barely leaving distance between us.

“No. If anyone asks, you have no clue what goes on in this office.”

I could only nod, his words doing nothing to calm my shaking hands.

“Hey,” Bucky’s vibranium finger lifted my chin so our eyes locked. “Please know that I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The intensity of his eyes caused my skin to prick with desire and I felt something pool in between my legs when his eyes glazed over my lips, Bucky’s tongue rolling slowly over his bottom lip; wetting them in preparation.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I shook my head, voice coming out hoarse and quiet.

“Like what?” Bucky’s voice matched my own and I bit back a moan at how inviting his lips looked.

I looked from his lips to his eyes. “Like you want to devour me.”

He shrugged while leaning in closer, his warm breath fanning over my lips. “Maybe I do?”

I swallowed thickly and threw any morals out the window before I stood on the tips of my toes to close the distance, ready to finally feel his lips over mine. My heart pounded in my ears when I noticed that Bucky was also leaning into the kiss.

“Boss! We’ve got a problem!”

Bucky and I stepped away from each other, me sitting on the chair in his office while he stood in place. Thankfully, there wasn’t any evidence of what almost happened.

Besides my beating heart.

Peter Parker came hustling into the office, a bewildered look in his eyes. His chest rose and fell as he did his best to catch his breath. He looked between the two of us and tossed a thumb over his shoulder.

“I can come back.”

Bucky held up a hand. “No, it’s fine. I wanted to speak with you anyway. Y/N, we’ll finish this later?”

In a trance, I simply nodded with anticipation on what exactly we were going to finish later; the talk or the almost kiss.

With a quick squeeze to Peter’s shoulder, I wished him good luck for this meeting and let the door quickly shut behind me.

“I completely understand Mr. Barton. I assure you that Mr. Barnes is taking care of Peter Parker right now.” I nodded into the phone.

“He better be because if I catch this kid on my streets one more time, you will find him with an arrow in his neck.”

My stomach dropped, the image flashing in my mind. “It won’t happen again. That I promise you.”

“Good, I’m holding you to that Ms. Y/L/N.”

The dial tone echoed loudly in my ears as I let out a deep breath, trying to regain my composure after that phone call.

As soon as I sat in my chair, the phone rang and I spent the last twenty minutes trying to calm Clint Barton down. He was still fuming at what Peter had done and I was starting to think that our words meant nothing to him, he wanted to see change. I jotted down a few ideas that Bucky could possibly bring up in the next monthly meeting.

“Have I mentioned how much seeing your face brightens my mornings?”

I looked up and smiled at the blonde. “Once or twice.”

Steve’s smile matched mine. “Well it’s true.”

I leaned back into my chair and allowed Steve to sit on the edge of my desk in front of me.

“Where have you been all morning?” I asked.

“I had to take care of a few things,” Steve said.

I tsked. “All that time and your hair still looks like shit.”

Steve scoffed while ruffling my own hair, which earned protests from me and I playfully smacked his thigh, my fingers lingering there for a moment even as the door opened behind me, Peter walking out with his head hanging low.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

Bucky appeared behind him and gave him a hard pat to the back. “It is now. Right, Parker?”

I didn’t miss the way that he burned a hole into Steve and I as my hand slowly pulled away from Steve’s thigh.

Peter nodded. “Yep. See you guys later.”

We all waved goodbye to him and I gave my attention back to Bucky. “Clint called again.”

Bucky groaned. “I’ll give him another call.”

“I handled it. I think.” My brows furrowed.

“You handled it?” Steve now spoke.

The two men shared a look of disbelief.

“It was pretty easy actually,” I shrugged as if it was nothing. “All he wanted was ten minutes of the next meeting to promote his new arrows that he’s been trying to sell.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and I was prepared to get reemed for promising something that I shouldn’t have.

Steve stood to his feet and walked over to Bucky, leaving his hand on his shoulder. “I told you she was a good one.”

Bucky hummed loudly in agreement. “Hiring you has been one of the best decisions I’ve made in a long time.”

Him and Steve entered into the office, the door being left open, and as they quietly conversed amongst themselves, I allowed myself to gaze away from my work every once in a while. Bucky and my gazes would lock and I had to force myself to look away after a few beats.

I tried to busy myself with my work but couldn’t ignore the burning gaze in the back of my head, knowing that Bucky was watching me intently. Especially when Steve walked out of the office and ruffled my hair once again.

“Rogers, I swear to god!” I playfully seethed.

He held up his hands. “You know where to find me if you decide to retaliate.”

With a wink, Steve disappeared into his own office.

“Y/N, can you look at this for me?”

I peered over my shoulder and gave Bucky a slight nod as he leaned down next to me, placing a piece of paper on my desk. I did my best to not pay attention to how close his face was next to mine as I looked at what he handed me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It’s the itinerary for the next meeting. There’s a lot to talk about so I want to make sure I have everything on there. If I miss anything, feel free to add it,” Bucky smiled.

My fingers worked through the couple pages and I nodded. “I’ll give it a look over right now.”

We found ourselves in our previous position, picking up where we left off before Peter walked in. Only this time, my brain screamed at me how wrong this was. It wasn’t fair to Natasha that Bucky and I continued this dance with each other, flirting and being so close.

When the magnetic pull between us caused Bucky to lean down closer to me, I laid a soft hand on his chest to stop him.

“Natasha,” was all I said.

Something flashed over Bucky’s eyes but it was gone as soon as it appeared and he was straight up on his feet once again. Gone was his soft demeanor that I found him having around me and he simply motioned towards the papers in front of me.

“This will probably take you all night so I’ll leave you to get to it.”

The door to his office slamming shut drowned out Bucky’s name falling from my lips.

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan

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papasbaseball · 2 months ago

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The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 3

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,306 of 7,390

Start | Prev | Next

AO3 Link

Being dealt with consists of yanking me from my bed, having my nightstand ransacked, and being plucked like a chicken down at the most expensive salon in Oz. After thorough torment and torture via wax strips, I get tossed into a room that I have never seen before but was on the same level as the Wizard's apartments. The better to keep an eye on me, I think.

The room is small but fit for perhaps a noblewoman staying a night or two at the palace: plenty fanciful with sage-papered walls but bare enough to discourage overstaying one's welcome. It consists of a small fireplace, a grand wardrobe that almost reaches the ceiling, a brass bed that is twice the width of my old one, and a vanity with a little note on top. I ignore the note, heading for the wardrobe. It's well past noon, and I'm sure there are still chores to be done. As much fun as this little excursion has been, I would like to eat dinner tonight.

The wardrobe pours out a scent of fresh citrus and I have to turn my head as my eyes and lips pucker. As the burst of cleanliness subsides, I go through the wardrobe. There is an embroidered green floor-length dress, some clothes that are suited for summers that are too hot, and some risque lingerie that makes me slam the doors closed with a wooden clatter. This room was meant for a noble lady, but I didn't think that they would have stuck me into one that was already occupied. Obviously, there has been a mistake.

When they had stuffed me in here, they hadn't given me any instructions and refused to answer any of my questions. The only answer I was able to get out of them was “I am not able to share that with you”. I open the door to see if I can find some help and am met with two palace guards who bark some threats that cause me to stumble back into the room. I shut the door again. There's a thick metallic slotting, and when I go to try the handle, it doesn't budge, instead rattling in futility.

My lip curls and I bear my teeth. I have to fight the urge to slam my balled-up fists on the door and scream obscenities, but I know they'd probably just come in and hit me over the head with the end of one of their swords or do something worse to get me to shut up. The Royal Palace guards were not exactly known for their kindness and compassion. I add “intelligence” to their not-list for refusing to even listen to the fact that I am occupying someone else's room.

Making a closer assessment of the space, I look for any potential doors that might have been missed. There is a bathroom door with a peacock carved into it, but nothing else of note. The only other exit is a window. I approach the paned glass, flipping the latch, and am met with a dizzying drop. From up here, the stretched-out cotton balls that make up the clouds wrap around the jeweled spirals of the royal palace like heavenly moss.

"It's a long way down."

I yelp, my palms slipping from the window sill. The fear cuts up through me with the air as I fall, standing all of my hairs straight up. I'm jerked back and I tumble to the floor, scrambling back to the wardrobe as I try to catch my breath. The Wizard is there, standing in front of the window with a barely concealed smile on his face and a glint of amusement in his eyes. I want to scream as anger rips through me. It's not right to feel that way towards our Wonderful ruler, but I can't see what he finds funny about the fact that I almost just died. All I'm able to get out is a strangled cry that sounds nowhere near close to "thank you".

"Were you trying to get some fresh air?" he says, offering me a hand.

I try to still my face as I put my trembling hand in his. "I'm... I'm in the wrong room," I say.

"You were almost on the ground," he says, pulling me to my feet. I find myself way too close to him, too aware of the way the cotton of his shirt is rising and falling with each breath. My brush with death is causing me to lose my head because – even though I know he is all-powerful and a blessing to us all – I feel like the person standing before me is a normal man with a beating heart just like the rest of us lowly citizens of Oz.

I clear my throat, trying to get my voice back to normal. "I was trying to find a way out."

The Wizard laughs at this, deeply and heartily. Despite my trembling, I can't help but let out my own breathy laugh too. It was rather silly to think about escaping out of a window that was closer to the sun than the ground. My hands and arms are slowly getting some of their warmth back in them, only moments ago having felt so numb. I can't help but feel thankful that I can share this laugh with him, and that I am still alive.

Whether from the adrenaline or all of the laughing, my stomach grumbles, reminding me of the pressing issue that is earning my dinner. I'm breathless, but I tell him that I'm in the wrong room, again.

"What?" he says. "Is there something wrong with your room? I had it redecorated." He goes to the wardrobe, smoothing a hand over the glossy oak finish of the doors. "Used to be all cobwebs and dust in here." He swipes at the air as if to bring down one of these supposed cobwebs.

"Your Wonderfulness," I start, "There are some lady's clothes in here. I am sorry to say that I went through them, but I-"

"Did you think that you would find something good to steal?" he says.

My cheeks heat red at the reminder of yesterday. I throw open the wardrobe doors to show him the clothes that someone had obviously left here during their last summer. "See for yourself," I huff.

Those amber eyes lock onto mine, a warning about my tone, but they quickly land on the dresses as he swipes the hangers along the rod. "I don't see anything out of place."

"These are not my clothes," I protest. "How am I supposed to go about cleaning?"

His "Ah" is almost inaudible as he fishes all the way back into the wardrobe and pulls out the sea-green gossamer dress. It looks ridiculous, with great puffs of tulle across the breast and shoulders, the skirt clearly meant for summertime the way I can see through it. I snatch it from him and shove it back into the closet.

"That is someone else's!" I say, feeling guilty that we are still going through the poor woman's clothes.

"No," he says, "that is the price for stealing."

I scrunch my brow together, utterly confused. I did not steal any of the garments. I even showed them to him! They were all here, 100 percent accounted for, and they could be shipped back home to whatever unfortunate countess had left them here and was probably not missing them. And what did I care what they cost?

The recognition on my face as the wheels turn in my head turns his benevolent features into a hellish delight, a grin that seems too sharp, the way he stands a little too comfortably. He takes the dress back out and puts the hanger into my hand. "I almost thought I was going to have to beat some sense into you," he says.

There is a knock at the door. I shove the see-through dress back into the closet just in time for the guards to open the door. It’s Emily on the other side of the threshold.

"Ah, yes!" he says. "Come, come in!" He pushes past me to usher in the unsure girl. I can see that there are charcoal stains on her apron from today's work, her palms ruddy and cracked with a dried trickle of blood creeping up her wrist. My stomach twists in a knot, wondering if I might be able to take the window exit after all. Here I was complaining about everything, but hadn't I been excused from the hard work of washing the floor and changing sheets? Hadn't I been getting primped and preened like a fanciful cockatoo in the finest salon in Oz? Emily seems to have the same idea, her mouth set in a hard line that tells me she is not happy about having to pick up my slack.

"I got you your little friend to help out," he beams, pushing her forward. "Not with your work, of course, but for dressing." He goes back to the closet and pulls out the offensive dress for what seems like the billionth time today. When he's not looking, I think, I'm going to burn it. He hands the wisp of a garment to Emily.

"Our friend here is confused," he tells Emily, "she had a little run-in with the window. Just make sure that she gets dressed. When you're done, set some wood on the hearth for a fire for later."

Emily's face scrunched up at the last part, "Your Wonderfulness, I'm afraid I can’t do that. Receiving has put a limit on firewood for the whole palace. They said something about a shortage? I'm not sure."

His eyes narrow and he knits his brow. He says, "Just get her dressed and bring her to my room when you're done." He leaves the room, checking his pocket watch as he steps out the door.

When the door shuts, any politeness Emily might have had leaves her features. She tosses the dress onto the bed, looking for a zipper. "So how'd you do it?" she bites.

"What?" I ask.

"Did you sleep with him?"

The suggestion knocks the wind out of me and I can't help but scoff for breath.

"Is he any good in bed?" she asks.

"That is our Wizard you are talking about!" I protest in a whisper, afraid that he will hear us if I speak any louder. "I did not sleep with him. I was at the market with you and then-" I stop myself, not wanting to admit that I got arrested for stealing. That would surely go over well with her that somehow I got all of this for trying to shoplift. "and then I ended up here, okay? I don't know."

Emily finds the zipper and slides it down, taking the dress off the hanger. She comes over to me and sneers. "Come on, off with it. Or are you too lazy to undress yourself too?"

I hesitate, but the need to prove that I'm not some layabout wins over any shame I might have at her seeing me naked; we had shared a bed after all and she had seen me dress in the common room before. I pull off the simple but warm shift they had given me at the salon, and she slips the dress over my head. I have to stop myself from running my hands over the airy ruffles and puffs that cover my chest and shoulders. The fabric was softer than any of the sheets I'd ever put on the Wizard's bed, and so light that I wondered if it was woven from the room’s old cobwebs.

"I saw you getting hauled off yesterday. When I came back you were in bed. What happened?" Emily asks again.

"I can't say," I lie. "They told me it was a secret." No, that's not true either. But I can hear his wails so far removed from this little and polite room. The wails of the boy that Emily had pranked and bullied and set up and framed because he was good at his job. I don't know why she did it. We all got paid the same, but if I had to guess, I'd say that she was afraid that he was going to make her look bad. "I don't want to be here," I add as an afterthought.

"Yeah, right," she says, zipping the dress up. I yelp as the zipper pinches a bit of skin on my side. If my arms weren't turning into gooseflesh from the cold, they were now.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" I almost genuinely want to know. Maybe she had some ideas that could get me out of this dress and room, and back into the comfort of my own clothes and our shared bed.

"Try throwing yourself out the window again," she says, hanging the hanger back up. "At least you won't have to worry about anything after you go splat. Try to aim for the officer's balcony. I don't want to be called to scrape up your puffy remains." She flicks a puff on my shoulder to emphasize her point.

I slam the door to the wardrobe and she locks eyes with me. She walks to the door in silence, never breaking eye contact, and quickly knocks on it. "You're not the first dummy to try and sleep her way to head maid," she says. The door opens. "Come on, let's go. I need to take you to his room." I follow after her, the gown doing nothing to protect me from the cold hallways of the palace. "Plus, that dress is offensive to the eyes. I don’t want to look at it any longer than I have to."

#wicked fanfiction #wicked 2024 #the wizard x reader #the wizard fanfiction #wicked 2024 fanfic #jeff goldblum

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zee-has-commitment-issues · 1 month ago

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Hello! 96 is a good one, I think. WYD Now? by Sadie Jean. She's a long one, I apologize.

When Simon was 18, he and Wilhelm broke up for university. Staying together didn’t make sense — they were going to opposite sides of the country, and Wilhelm was starting his military service. It wasn’t going to work anymore. It was mutual, and it hurt, but it was okay.

At 19, he began singing in his University’s choir. That’s how he’d gotten there in the first place, even if he wasn’t studying music anymore. He’d considered it briefly, but decided not to. It didn’t bring him the same joy it used to. Every time he tried to compose, the notes inevitably turned into songs about Wilhelm, to songs about them, to melodies wrapped in memories. He did his best not to think about how Wilhelm probably still thought he was majoring in music, about how they’d stopped keeping each other updated.

At 21, he thought he saw Wilhelm’s familiar face in the crowd at one of his performances. He had a slight moment of panic that was overshadowed by an immense sense of hope, and then the moment was gone. Wilhelm was a million miles away, living a life Simon knew nothing about, and if there was even a chance he was here, he’d be standing in the front row cheering Simon on the loudest. He always had, even when they weren’t together.

When Simon was done with that show, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something fundamentally missing about his life. And he couldn’t figure out why.

Sure, he’d had that schoolboy fantasy life and all the romcom moments that came with it, but it was simply that: a fantasy. He never expected any of it to be real. There were talks about future apartments and the colors of their wedding and what they would name their children, but none of it had ever been real. They were just the musings of two young people who hadn’t yet learned the weight of time and distance.

But Simon still wore that stupid t-shirt to bed, with that stubborn stain from that ridiculous party. That stupid t-shirt that still made Simon think of Wille every time he wore it, because it had been Wille’s to begin with.

So, after debating about it for months, at 22, Simon decided to call Wilhelm again. They were both done with university now, stepping into the next chapters of their lives, and he figured it was time. At 22, he met Wilhelm at a coffee shop to catch up, not knowing what he was getting into.

And then there was Wilhelm. He looked older, more confident, maybe, as though time had chiseled away at the boy Simon once knew. But then Wilhelm smiled, and Simon saw it — saw him. Because no matter how much time had passed or how much they’d changed, Wilhelm was still just Wille.

“So... what are you doing now?” Simon had asked him. He didn’t know what he was looking for, really. He already knew Wilhelm had stepped down from the line of succession, knew he’d pursued literature and had probably stuck with it. “Are... are you seeing anyone?”

Oh, god. Where had that question even come from? Why should he even care?

Wilhelm laughed, soft and warm, a sound so achingly familiar it took Simon’s breath away. It was exactly as he remembered — gentle, beautiful, perfect. “Simme,” Wilhelm said, his voice carrying the kind of certainty that left no room for doubt, “we both know there was never anyone else for me.”

oops. that was a lot of words.

send me a number from my spotify wrapped and I'll write something

#wrapped drabble #really *really* not a drabble. I cannot write anything short. I can't do it. I tried.#wilmon #young royals

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livin4woso · 9 months ago

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Breaking the media

Chapter 6- You're okay now

The days after had been hard yet you had managed to keep yourself under control and almost push the incident in the past. Alexia had advised you took the next few days of however you didn't want to miss training before the first game you weren't promised to play but there was a good chance you were making it to the bench. Like normal training was enjoyable but this time it was different all the girls had to do a weekly check with the physio just to make sure nothing was wrong and everyone was up to standard for the match. You had thought nothing of it as you had made your way into the room and were greeted by the physio "hola y/n" he said as you sat on to the medical bed. You had been here quite a few times so you knew what the protocol was just testing muscle tightness and how well your joints were working.

The first half was going smoothly until he placed his hand on your upper thigh just where the man had a week prior. The memory flashback in your mind as you became panicked and you curled up in ball hiding your face from him hyperventilating. The physio was frozen in what to do he couldn't just leave you but he couldn't console you either so he did the next best thing and went to where the girls were sat waiting for thier appointment "guys i have a slight issue, i was just doing movement checks and when i put my hand on y/ns leg shes gone... i guess panicked im not sure" he said staring at the girls almost blankly. Alexia had heard this and she bolted straight to the room where she found you a curled up ball sobbing. Yet you almost look terrified the air wasn't coming in or out it was stuck making your panic worse than before "hey pequeña, im here its okay can i hold you" she asked walking towards you. Then no response came you were so trapped in your mind it was hard to snap you out of it. Alexia had no clue what to do so she did what she thought best call for ingrid she had her fair share of panic attacks and was sure she knew what to do.

Ingrid had recived the text from alexia and she swiftly moved herself from the arm chair she was sat on to the the physio room. She opened the door and it was exactly what she feared it was the feeling where nothing is going in or out and everything is overstimulating from the feeling of your clothes to just the loose hairs whisping off your neck. She sprung herself into action she knew how to deal with panic attacks but ones caused by something so triggering and from recently she didn't know much about. "Y/n can you look at me" she said while crouching at your level still there was no response it was like you were in your own world one surrounded with thoughts of him and the way his words spat at you the way he stared as though you were an object. She waited a couple seconds and began to repeat her question but still no response came from you only the sound of your laboured breathing. Ingrid was almost lost for anything to do she was completely out of luck and she felt a dash of worry for you as your condition didnt change, therefore it lead to doing the only thing she knew what to do. 'Y/n im going to touch your hand okay" she said reaching her hand out slowly towards you and she placed it on your shaking hands you look down and instead of the expecting reaction of you holding it and breaking out of your thoughts your mind was so clouded with him the thought of someone touching you was almost as bad. "GET AWAY FROM ME....PLEASE" you yelled standing up from the floor and the two girls swiftly followed you to thier feet.

There it was you looked into alexias eyes and the fear in her eyes almost crushed you and you just collapsed into her arms realising what you had done and it wasnt him it was your friend, your teamate who you'd just shouted at. You clung to her as though she was your life line "im sorry im so sorry i wont do it again" you repeated into her shoulder through sobs. Alexia just rubs her hands on your back and through your hair as her and ingrid glance at eachother of almost panic and a sense of relief. You finally calm down and let go of alexia the corner of her jumper drenched in your tears yet she makes no remarks you walk over to ingrid and hig her tightly "im so sorry for shouting at you i didnt mean it i promise" you say burried into her shoulder "its okay love i know you didn't" she says back to you. "However I think you should go home and get some rest" she added pulling out of the hug to see your tear stained face the tear tracks still prominent on your cheeks.

Alexia had excused herself for a minute to compose herself she was so built up with worry over you and the fact you hadn't said anything the past week had really bothered her but you were young and probably trying to put on a brave face for her. "Come on pequeña lets get you some sleep" she said putting her head round the corner of the door. You had made it back home when you had sat on the couch. "Ale can we watch a movie" you asked her "sure whatever you want" she replied joining you on the couch. You played your favourite movie and you didnt mean to but it just sort of happened as the movie progressed, slowly you made your way to alexias side and leant into her "is this okay?" You said in an almost whisper tone "of course pequeña" she said wrapping her arms around you and running her finger nails through your hair. You slowly adjusted into her side and the longer it went you fell asleep on alexias shoulder it felt like home and for alexia it felt like peace knowing you were safe and in arms reach.

#alexia x reader #barca femeni #woso #woso x reader #wsl #mapi leon #woso imagines

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call-me-strega · 3 months ago

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How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps: ch.4/5 of p.2

First, prev, next, lore, ao3,

I've already said it but thank you for all your wonderful comments and for engaging with my story. It really motivated me to finish up this chapter. I hope you all enjoy and Happy (early) Halloween! As a bonus I'm also releasing some memes for this chapter here.

This chapter a heat wave overtakes Gotham and causes some trouble, but at least Jason gets a title upgrade.

~~~

"Uggh! How is summer in Gotham so miserable that I'm still sweating buckets in the rec center? It has AC?!" John complained, setting down the box he was holding. He stopped, pulling a hair tie from his wrist and tying his hair up in a circle man-bun. "I swear I can feel my hair sweating!"

"Hah! Sucks to suck whiteboy! Maybe if you chopped off that mop, you'd be less sweaty!" Irene taunted, hoisting a box onto her shoulder.

"Well, we can't all just decide to shave it off the second we get bored of our braids, now can we Irene!" Johnny fought back, lifting his box with new vigor. "Some of us had to work for this kinda hair growth!"

"Like I said, 'sucks to suck'! Get good whiteboy!"

She stuck out her tongue as she trotted past him.

Jason sighed as he dragged two of his own boxes out of the truck and followed behind.

"Would you two quit yer yapping? Yer hot cause we've been moving in and out, carrying boxes in the middle of a recorded breaking heatwave during a Gotham summer. And, might I add, that I'd like to finish moving this shipment in on schedule, ya know before my skin melts off? So that I can actually enjoy the industrial-strength air conditioner we installed in this place? Plus, you know Fern won't be happy if they find out that all the equipment for the new kitchens and cooking classes didn't get set up 'cause you two were too busy trying to goad each other into a rumble."

The pair stiffened.

Fern was 152 pounds of rage, spite, and mischief, condensed into a 5'2" package, decorated with kitties, glitter, and spikes.

Neither of them wanted to see Fern mad.

They promptly stopped their bickering and rushed toward the kitchens, mumbling complaints under their breaths.

"Who even says rumble anymore," John muttered. "S.E. Hinton much."

Jason rolled his eyes, gently bumping the door with his hip to keep it open. He walked over to the table where they had piled the rest of the boxes, setting them down with a soft grunt. He pulled up the bottom of his shirt, using it to wipe his brow as the three of them took a brief pause in the kitchens to catch their breath.

That's when a ringtone went off.

"Huh? Whose phone was that?" Irene questioned glancing between Jason and John. "Did one of you change your ringtones?"

Jason knew exactly who it was.

He flushed slightly as he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, hoping in vain that neither would notice his embarrassment. Irene sidled up to him with a smirk.

"Who's that? Your hot neighbor-dad crush?" she teased with a cheshire grin. "Did you set a special ringtone for him lover-boy!?"

Jason defensively tried to hide his phone.

"Maybe? And what if I did!? Now back off and let me pick up!"

He shoved the smug girl off him as he picked up the phone.

"Hey neighbor," Jason gave his customary greeting, fully expecting Danny to give it back. Instead, he was met with panicked breaths and an anxious little girl's voice.

"Mr. Jason? That's you, right?"

Jason's hackles instantly rose.

"Yes, it's me, Ellie, it's Mr. Jason. Is something wrong sweetie? Where's your dad? Why do you have his phone?"

"You like to help us right? Daddy said you told him we could come to you for help. You'll help, right?"

"Yes, Ellie I did say that. I promise I'll help, but you need to tell me where your dad is, okay? Can you take a deep breath for me sweetheart? What's going on munchkin?"

John and Irene exchanged nervous glances, responding to the way Jason tensed up. They watched on apprehensively, the mood quickly growing somber. This wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last, that one of them picked up a call and had to ask questions like these.

"Huuup-haaah, - um well, Daddy took me to the park, the one with the purple swings, because I really wanted to play today, and Sasha said they were doing soccer today and I really wanted to go. And, and I made Daddy run around with me even though he was getting tired. And then Daddy said he was getting too hot, so he was gonna rest, b-but he fell before he got to the bench and he- he's not getting up."

The young girl explained, fighting back tears.

"Hey- hey, Ellie, Ellie! I want you to listen to me, okay? First things first, I'm proud of you for reaching out to me when you knew you needed help, okay. That's a very responsible and big girl move. Next, I need you to understand that this isn't your fault, okay? Sometimes the hot weather can make people sick just like cold weather can."

"Mmm-hmm," she sniffled.

"Great. Next, I need you to find an adult at the park you can trust. Is your friend Sasha's mom nearby?"

"Yes."

"Good. Here's what you're gonna do: When I'm done talking, you're gonna go up to Sasha's mom and tell her your dad needs help. Tell her that she needs to call the VPA, okay? The V-P-A. Try to cool your dad off, maybe get him some water. If he can't drink it's fine to pour it on him since it'll still help cool off. I'm going to come get you so I can help. Stay with your dad and Sasha's mom until I get there, alright?"

"Alright, Mr. Jason."

"Good girl, can you repeat back to me what I said?"

"I need to go to Sasha's mom and tell her Daddy needs help. I need to tell her to call the VeePeeAay. I should try to cool Daddy off and stay with Sasha's mom till you come to help us."

"That's right. Good job, Elle! You're such a big, strong girl! I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Jason. Please hurry."

"I will sweetie. Promise."

Jason hung up the call.

"I'm sorry guys, but I gotta ditch. It's an emergency. Neighbor's daughter called saying he passed out after playing with her at the park. It's probably heat exhaustion. Hopefully, the Volunteer Paramedics Association will have sent someone by the time I get there."

He promptly had a pair of car keys shoved into his chest. He made eye contact with John to see him giving him a serious look.

"Take my car, Jay. From the sounds of it, it'll probably serve you better than your bike. Don't worry about returning it. I know you'll have Hood get it back to me when you can."

Jason gave him a look of appreciation. "Thanks, Johnny," he said, turning to leave. He looked back at Irene, who nodded at him in determination.

"Get outta here! We'll cover for ya. We can handle the rest of the delivery ourselves. Now go help your lover boy, lover-boy!"

He nodded in thanks before rushing out the door. He hopped in turning the AC on full blast and taking off.

Jason tore through traffic as fast as he could, breaking several minor traffic laws along the way. He hastily parked and rushed through the park looking for the Nightingales.

She said the park with purple swings. Ellie was playing soccer, so they'll be near the field.��

He scanned the area as he approached. Suddenly he felt like his blood froze as he locked onto a small crowd formed near a tree. He assessed the crowd: a few parents, a couple of kids, two people in paramedic uniforms, and them.

Jason marched over, pushing through the crowd with one single-minded purpose echoing in his head: Help them.

He could see that the paramedics had laid Danny down and elevated his feet on a balled-up picnic blanket. His face was sweaty and red, his eyes barely open as one of the paramedics helped a pleading Ellie coax him into taking a few sips from a bottle of water. Another used a small hand fan borrowed from a parent in the crowd to cool him.

He pushed forward, reaching out a hand to call to Ellie, only to be stopped by a hand hastily pressing against his chest. A small portion of him grew enraged as he turned to see who stopped him.

'Who dares stop us from getting to our people!'

A tall, lean woman in a t-shirt and athletic pants. Judging by the age lines on her face she was likely in her late-30s, maybe early-40s. Her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail and her face was just as severe, promising pain if she deemed it necessary. She spoke first.

"I don't know who you are, but you can't go over there. Don't get in the way."

"Tch! Let me through. I'm here for them." he growled out.

The woman tensed.

"Look I don't know what you want from them, but that man is in no position to give you whatever you're after." Her face grew more dangerous. "And don't even think about getting near the girl."

That's when Jason belatedly realized he had had his mission face on the entire time. This woman mistook him for some sort of collector or enforcer. She was trying to protect them. He felt himself warm up to her a bit, releasing some of the tension from his body. He had to explain to her why he was actually here.

"Look ma'am it's not like tha-"

"YOU'RE HERE!" a small voice interrupted.

Ellie promptly attached herself to Jason's leg. Jason bent down wrapping his arms around her. He stroked her hair, trying to reassure her.

"I promised I would be, didn't I?"

"Ahem," the woman glanced between him and Ellie with a slightly reproachful glint in her eyes. She addressed Ellie first.

"Ellie dear, do you know this man?" 'And are you safe with him?' her eyes asked. Ellie nodded in response.

"This is Uncle Jason. He lives in the same building as us, near me and Dad. He came to help us b'cause I asked him too. He's the one who told me to ask you for help."

Jason expertly masked any surprise he felt over the new title Ellie had given him, which implied a level of trust and familiarity he wasn't 100% convinced he'd earned just yet. He simply nodded in agreement, waiting for the woman to confirm his theories on her identity.

"I am Katrina Malone; my daughter Sasha is friends with Ellie. We all live in the same building apparently. You can call me Trina." She addressed him this time, holding out her hand. Jason shook it, nodding at her once.

"Jason. Ellie called me in a panic, and I got over here as fast as I could." He returned. She simply nodded in acknowledgment.

That's when one of the paramedics approached them. Jason recognized them as one of the kids that apprenticed with Dr. Thompkins, Emilio something-or-other.

"Ah, Jason! I'd say it's nice to see you but, well..." He glanced back at Danny. "If I overheard correctly, you're here for the patient?"

"Yes, I am."

"Ah-well, it's a pretty bad case of heat exhaustion. My guess is that he hasn't been sleeping right or enough. We've cooled him about as much as we can, but it would be ideal if we could get him indoors, preferably somewhere with air conditioning. That is assuming you don't want to take him to the hospital."

Jason nodded along. "I brought a car with me. I can take them home; we live next door to each other, and I definitely have AC. I can accommodate them just fine."

"Great. We've already administered some first aid, but keep in mind for once you get back that he should be kept in a cool environment. Try to elevate his feet if you can and have him drink something with electrolytes. Handle him gently when helping him move. He didn't hurt anything much when he fainted, but his head and side may be a bit tender."

Jason stood up and walked over to Danny, Ellie trailing behind him. His face was considerably less red, but he was still barely conscious. Danny cracked his eyes open and looked up at him with through his eyelashes. He managed to mutter out a weak "Hey" before trailing off, unable to remain fully cognizant.

"Easy does it, your highness," Jason whispered as he went to pick up Danny.

He slid an arm under his knees, the other supporting his back and hefted him up off the ground, holding him close to his chest. He dismissed the paramedics and said a quick goodbye to Trina before turning to Ellie.

"Come on princess, let's get you dad home."

He led her to the car, carefully buckling into the two most precious pieces of cargo Jason had ever transported. And then they were off.

Jason gently placed Danny down on his bed, taking great care to make sure he was comfortable. Ellie, in an attempt to be helpful, shoved a cushion under her dad's feet. Jason couldn't help but give her a slight smile at the cute gesture. He reached over and gently ruffled her hair, before moving around the room.

First, he double checked that his AC was working, even setting it to a lower than he normally used. Then, he dragged out some folding chairs he kept in his closet for the sake of convenience. One for him and one for Ellie. He set them up next to the bed and gestured to Ellie to go ahead and sit. Finally, he went to his kitchen.

'He needs something simple and easy to eat that will help rehydrate and cool him off ', he thought.

Jason ended up going with some simple orange slices with a sprinkle of sea salt and the light blue Gatorade (he refused to call it "frost glacier freeze". It was light blue, goddammit!). He set them on a tray with some pretzels, hummus, and carrots that he cut up into little sticks for Ellie.

He walked back into the bedroom, placing the tray on the side table.

"Come on munchkin, you've had a lot of excitement huh? Come have a snack. I'll watch your dad."

She looked up hesitantly, glancing between Jason and her dad.

"He'll be alright sweetheart. He just needs some rest."

Eventually, Jason managed to coax her into eating while he attempted to get Danny to drink some of the Gatorade. Danny managed to pull himself into consciousness long enough to drink a fourth of the bottle and stomach a few orange slices. Before he went out again, he managed enough energy to reassure Ellie he'd be better after a nap, and lock eyes with Jason briefly saying "thanks" and then he was out again.

Ellie finished her snack and hopped up onto the bed, laying down next to her dad. She left some space between them but reached out to hold his hand as he slept. She looked at him from her place on the bed and murmured a small voice, "Thank you 'ncle Jas'n."

Jason felt his heart clench. He wanted to ask her why she had called him that. To ask if she really trusted him that much. Could he really say he deserved the opportunity to become such an important figure in her life?

"You're welcome sweetheart," he whispered back instead, letting her rest with her dad.

Jason decided to step out of the room at that point. He went to sit in the living room for a bit to try to get his thoughts in order. He updates John and Irene on the situation, thanking John again for the use of his car, then heads to the kitchen to whip up a quick lunch. Something the Nightingales could eat when they woke up. He ended up making some fruit salad, ham and cheese roll-ups, and using some left-over grilled chicken to make chicken pesto sandwiches with tomato and mozzarella. The rhythmic motions of his knife calmed him as he mulled over the day's events.

'Her actions were calculated. She wanted to express her trust in me so that her friend's mom would ease up and let me help,' he analyzed. 'But... but there was no hesitation or unease. She knew what she was doing and did it anyway. I- I want to make the most of her actions. I'll prove I deserve the trust she placed in me. '

Once he was finished, Jason carefully stored the food in his fridge before going to check on the father-daughter duo.

Jason cracked the door open, peaking in at the pair sleeping soundly on his bed. He walked over to one of the chairs he'd set up earlier, quiet as an assassin. He sat as softly as he could and observed the pair.

Danny's complexion had greatly improved, beginning to return to his normal color. His chest slowly moved up and down and his calm face was at peace. Likewise, once Ellie had fallen asleep her worry melted off her face, leaving a calm expression so different from her usual boundless energy. She looked so much like her father it was almost uncanny.

Sitting there looking at the two, absolutely relaxed and trusting nothing would happen as they lay in his bed, Jason came to a realization. One he honestly should have expected sooner or later what with his Big Realization, last week. He closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

'I want to protect them.' he thought. 'When Ellie called me, I was so scared something was wrong. But the two of them are safe with me. In my apartment. In my bed. I don't want to lose this trust. I don't want to lose them.

Jason woke up with a crick in his neck.

He groaned, straightening himself out and cursing himself for falling asleep sitting. Couldn't he have at least fallen asleep on the couch? He stands up from the chair, stretching out his back. 'It's nearly 5', he thinks as he checks the time. They've all been asleep for around 3 hours. 'Oh well, at least I'll be rested for patrol later’ he thinks, heading to the kitchen to go eat something, never mind the fact that it won't be dark for a few more hours.

He pulls out the lunch he made earlier, serving himself a portion. It's closer to dinner now but he'd be damned if he let food go to waste. As he was eating, he heard the sound of light groans and shifting coming from his room. Abandoning his plate Jason gets up and goes to check on the Nightingales.

He opens the door to see the pair sitting up in his bed, both rubbing the tiredness out of their eyes in the same way.

Like father, like daughter, huh?

"Feeling better your highness?" He says leaning up against the wall.

In unison, the two stare at him with wide, innocent eyes before smiling those smiles that never fail to make Jason's heart melt.

"I'm feeling much better. Thank you so much for taking care of us Jason. I'm sorry to have worried you," Danny began, a finger coming up to scratch his cheek as if trying to dust his embarrassed blush away like a few stray crumbs. "I've had some health issues in the past which make me more susceptible to the heat. I really should have planned better, even if it did get hotter than I thought it would. I must have given you and Ellie a big scare, huh?"

He turned to his daughter pulling her into his chest. She hugged him back for a few seconds before abruptly pulling away. Danny stared at her in shock only to find her pouting. Ellie scrambled off the bed and made her way to Jason. She indicated for him to pick her up. He obliged. Once she was in his arms, she reached up awkwardly hugging his face to show her dad and gave him an ultimatum.

"You scared us both, daddy! If you don't take care of yourself and scare us again like that, then me'n Uncle Jason will just move in together until you learn to take care of yourself! So, if you don't wanna be lonely, you better not scare us again!"

'What is she saying!?’ Jason sweat-dropped, nervously staring at Danny's shocked expression.

"Is that right, Uncle Jason?" Danny asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Fuck what am I supposed to do now!?'

"Uuuh- uh, yeah! Me and munchkin here will just stay together if you don't take care of yourself!" He wondered what the hell he was thinking as he doubled down on her words.

"So, please," he continued genuinely pleading, "We care about you, try to take better care of yourself."

Or at least let me help.

Danny gave a bemused chuckle, getting off the bed. He sauntered over to Ellie and Jason, wrapping his arms around both of them. His face slid into the gap between Jason and Ellie's, fitting in easily as a puzzle piece. Jason couldn't see his face anymore, but he could practically feel the affection rolling of the man in waves. Danny squeezed them tight before speaking.

"Alright. I promise to take better care of myself. I don't want to worry either of you."

"Pinky promise daddy?"

Danny pulled back and extended his pinkie out to his daughter.

"Pinky promise, Ell."

His pinkie was larger than hers, wrapping her own finger like a hug. Keeping their hands in place, Ellie turned her unwavering gaze to Jason.

"You too, Uncle Jason."

Jason agreed, giving her a slight smile.

"Alright, me too."

Jason brought up the hand that wasn't supporting Ellie's weight and wrapped his own finger around Danny and Ellie's. His finger was bigger, thicker, rougher, and covered them nearly perfectly. He almost felt like he was acting as a protective barrier, which he felt wasn't an unappealing thing to be.

Eventually, they all had to let go. Jason, remembering that they hadn't eaten properly, led them to the kitchen. The three managed to easily fall into a comforting and familiar atmosphere.

Once the Nightingales finished eating with Jason they returned to their own apartment. They stood in Jason's doorway stretching out their goodbyes.

"I really can't thank you enough for all your help, Jason. Is there anything I can do to pay you back for this? I'm just so thankful for all your help."

"Hey now, I already told you there's no need. Really, I was happy to help."

"Oh, but I insist."

"Look, it really wasn't that big a deal but if you really insist, I'll accept some more of that fudge you gave me," Jason joked.

"Deal. I'll make a special batch just for you," Danny replied with a light blush dusting his nose.

He leaned over, giving Jason a brief hug.

"Good night, Jason."

"Good night, Danny."

"Me too!"

Both of them looked down at Ellie before glancing at each other. In unison, they bent down and took her in their arms.

"Good night, Ellie," Jason spoke softly. Her small hand tightened its grip.

"Good night, Uncle Jason."

With that, Danny and Ellie went back to their apartment. Jason closed his door, sitting on the floor with his back against it, his head cradled in his hands, and pondered these newfound desires swirling in his chest.

'What do I do now?'

~~~

Okay y'all that's all for this chapter. I hope it was enjoyable. Let me know if you think the flow and pacing is going well. As always, I'm open to constructive criticism. Also, I'm thinking about adding an extra to the series where I go over my visions for some of the side character OCs so if you are interested in more info on them or to see anyone in particular, let me know.

#long post #hbsd #HBSD #How to Become a Step-Dad #How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps #ao3 #ao3 link #dead on main #danny fenton x jason todd #de aged ellie #congrats on arriving to the sicfic portion of the story!#Danny passed out from heat exhaustion partially due to his ice core #finally putting my first aid certification to use lol #those are all (mostly) accurate steps to deal with heat exhaustion #some big steps were taken here

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year ago

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His mind was such a mess, Eddie barely knew what he was thinking anymore. But he did know to be annoyed as fuck when his phone rang. He had kept the ringer on high, despite the fact that the only calls he got were from his inner circle asking what the hell was going on. He managed to ignore most of those. But on the off chance it was Chrissy stuck on her layover he didn’t want to miss it.

He didn’t bother checking who it was when he answered. He knew it wouldn’t be Steve.

“Hello?” Eddie mumbled into the receiver, “Chris?”

“That better mean Chrissy,” Someone huffed, “If you’re seeing someone else already I think that gives me a legal right to kill you.”

Eddie jolted up at the sound of Steve’s voice, “S-Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” He sighed on the other end, sounding way too casual for someone who just turned Eddie’s world upside down, “So how has Europe been? Or was it California?”

Eddie cringed, at a loss for what to say. It wasn’t helping that his heart was nearly pounding out of his chest, “Oh. I-I didn’t- I mean- I’m sorry.”

Steve snorted on the other end, “Yeah, you are. No social media my ass.”

“It’s - I don’t usually use it that much?” Eddie stammered out, “It’s uh, mostly managed by a team but I have the password and - and this is not helping me at all. Is it?”

“No,” Steve agreed, “No, it’s not.”

“Steve I- I know I can’t say anything to fix this. But I-I didn’t want things to turn out like this. I get it, I’m an asshole but you weren’t a joke Steve. I’m the joke. I’m the idiot-you- I mean- I,” he was rambling, badly. Trying and failing to get everything out.

He had been too lost in the sauce of his own pity party to ever think about this point. Now he was blowing it.

Or so he thought.

Steve sighed again, “Okay, that’s enough of that. Come open the door. I’m outside.”

It took a second for that to compute, “Huh?”

“I’m outside of your door,” Steve said again, “Are you going to let me in or not?”

Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Eddie rushed to stand, almost instantly eating it when the blood didn’t catch up to his brain. He might have neglected a few bodily needs during the past few days. It just wasn’t enough to stop him from rushing to the door, knocking into every other thing on the way.

But what was a broken lamp and a few bruises compared to true love?

He wretched the door open, his phone still stupidly at his ear.

There Steve was, waiting for him. Eddie’s mind had decided to keep the idiot routine going because all he could really do was stare at him, at a total loss for what to do next.

Steve frowned at him, “Jesus, Eddie. You look… not good.”

“I know,” Eddie agreed, running a hand through his greasy hair. He hadn’t exactly been checking any mirrors but he could do the math. No showers, barely any sleep, constant crying. Now that he thought about it he’s pretty sure he hadn’t even changed since their fight. It was bad. Only made worse by the fact Steve was here to see it.

Steve was still frowning as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him to lean on.

They stared at each other while Eddie’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest. Is this what a heart attack fet like?

“I don’t really know what to do now,” Steve admitted after another beat of silence, “I kind of thought I would but… I don’t.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie tried, taking a cautious step forward. But Steve put a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

He took a deep breathe, “Eddie, what I’m about to say isn’t to hurt you, okay? I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

Eddie swallowed, his throat dry and his voice quiet when he answered, “Okay.”

“I think you should go take a shower,” Steve said gently, “Then we can talk.”

from the next chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #preview #i'm close y'all #I'm writing two different fic chapters at the same time like a dipshit #but i'm close with both of them #damn your love damn your lies

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glaciertea · 7 months ago

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Masterlist here

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.24<< >>Ch.26

Notes: He wants to make this right for the both of you.

CW: Smut, passionate make-up sex, PinV, cunnilingus, unprotected sex

Art was done by @//cucduaohara on Twitter

Chapter 25: I Just Can't Say I Don't Love You, 'Cause I Love You

Word count: 10.4K

He was doing this. After all this time, after all the bullshit he threw at you, he was going to do this.

He made sure to shower heavily. To wash away all the grime and filth that was caked on. Even though he knew he couldn't technically get rid of all of his doings, he could start fresh somewhere. Harmonic vocals from Selena weaved their way into the bathroom to help him even more. This was one of the first gifts you ever gave—the day you gave him that chance to blossom and unbound those chains of trepidation, anger, and so much more.

Putting on jeans, a plain shirt, and a light jacket, he inspected himself in the mirror and brushed his hair back before backing away from it.

He checked the time and date and realized it was your off day. It was late in the evening, but not too late, so there was still a chance you were up and moving around.

Opening up the door, he made sure the coast was clear and made his way towards the back entrance, when a voice stopped him in his tracks. Quite annoyed, he flicked his head back when his eyes widened at the acquainted figure in front.

“Still sneaking around like a teen, huh?” Jess's arms were folded as she sized up her now-ex-boss.

Miguel was ready to make a snappy remark when he held his tongue. There was tautness; oxygen wasn't reaching Miguel, as he didn't know what to exactly say besides his crude comment. Well, that was a lie; he had plenty to tell her; he just didn't know where to precisely start.

So he made do with the best thing he considered to be the right step.

“I'm sorry, Jess... I'm really sorry.”

“Oh, I know. Shocked to hear it come out so easily from you.” Her snide voice wasn't even holding back, and her icy stare wanted to wipe away, but she felt no point.

Neither one spoke a single phrase, not a single word. No sounds, besides breathing and the occasional spider-people shouting or swinging by. Miguel, filled with distraught, fights for the next string of ways to verbally express himself and what he's done when Jess decides to open her mouth.

“You know, Miguel, I do see good in you. I really do, but sometimes I see something more that isn't good.” She uncrossed her arms and placed them on her hips. “I won't go too much into it, as it seems you have somewhere to be. Common courtesy.”

He bowed his head for her to continue.

“You need help. You need to be the one to get it, because, my lord, you put us through hell and back.”

“I know, and I know sorry isn't much, but I want it to be a step on the right path.”

“Hm, you're certainly right about that.” She clicked her tongue, but held back and heard him out.

“And I'm not asking for this huge redemption—”

“Don't worry, there isn't going to be a giant pity part-”

“Jess…”

There was a strain in his throat, so she pursed her lips and stuck her mocking thoughts to the side.

“I just… I want to try and reverse all the damage I caused to you all. I want to reconnect and change for a future that I seemingly am allowed to have.” He stared down at his talons, jutting in and out, before closing his claws into tight fists. “I need to fix all of this.”

Jess did feel the authentication behind what he was saying and rubbed her temples. “You can't reverse all damages. It's like trying to replicate a destroyed house that's been lived in for years. You can't make it look like a one-on-one scale of the original, but you can strive to try and rebuild as much as possible. Salvage it and give more to it than what was there before.”

Miguel creased his eyebrows together, trying to understand, when Jess shook her head.

“Don't try to think too hard about it. I'm willing to rebuild, but I know there's going to be things that are different.” A smirk appeared. “I don't fully accept your apology; I'm more of an ‘action speaks louder than words’ type of woman, and I'm sure you can attest to that.”

A smirk was on his face as well. “You're going to be a great leader.”

“Oh, I know. You didn't have to remind me.” Both of their smiles grew. “Thanks.”

“Of course… And by the way, congratulations on your new son. How did the pregnancy go? How are you doing?”

She could feel her face lift even more. “It went well, thank you. Nothing that a spider can't handle.”

“Physically, yeah, but mentally?” He pointed to his head before awkwardly lowering it back down.

Her eyes squinted, but her smile never faltered. “Where are you headed?” Even though she had a sneaky suspicion about who he may be trying to see.

“I'm going to go and fix—uh, make amends—yeah. I'm going to try and make amends with someone who really needs it. I'm not saying that you all don't deserve it. I mean, you know—”

“No, I get it. She definitely needs it.” Jess held her hand up and grinned. “I wish you two nothing but the best. Good luck. You're going to need all of it.”

“Thank you, Jessica.” Miguel gave a mock salute, and she gladly returned it.

She felt much better, a warm sense as she watched her former boss go down that hall into a new light that he's finally able to see.

“About time.” She snickered and headed back when she heard her name being called.

Miguel placed his sunglasses on and stared up at the skies. Still bright, but it's wanting to turn in for the day. Strolling down the surprisingly simmered-down streets of Nueva, he began to ponder what to precisely say to you when he got to your place.

Does he go for a methodical structure, or does he completely wing it? Things such as this should come from the heart, and that's all he wants to give, but he also doesn't want to hurt you anymore and screw you both over.

His mind wouldn't stop. He needed this to be perfect—as perfect as it could possibly get.

The heart versus the mind. Or would they both come into play? He weighed the options when he came to a halt.

There was no time for a pit stop, but he was transfixed by the scene. The grounds that brought all of this into light.

He strayed over to the park, nearly wandering in before reeling himself back and tapping his forehead. “Ahí no es donde vas. Don't get distracted.”

Meandering down the sidewalk, he rehearsed everything that he was going to start with. An apology—an authentic one. He shook his head. Would that seem too forced? It wouldn't come off as indecent; he thought that it shouldn't. Would gifts be appropriate, or would you have considered that too much of a gimmick and insincere?

His brain began to diverge into many branches. Was he looking too hard into this? How can Peter and others do this with ease? Is there something that he's doing wrong? His feet unknowingly picked up the pace as he descended into this rabbit hole of doubts.

He knows he has to do it; he needs to do it. Then why is he so scared to go forth?

He froze.

He turned to his left and saw deflated or popped balloons laying on the ground, the strings tied to a stair metal handrail.

Miguel craned his neck up when the recognizable was staring right back down at him. It's been too long since he's been, but he oddly felt right at home. Staggering in and up to the elevator, he pressed the button and watched as the yellow flash trickled to each number.

5… 4… 3…

There was a tug on his lips as he recalled the time he took you on that date to the lounge. The heightened anticipation when you both stumbled in, attacking each other in a sensual manner.

Or when you did your best to keep him steady the first night you both met.

Blinking himself out of a daze when the elevator doors began to close, he hastily stuck his arm out and strolled in, pushing the button to your floor and leaning his back against the wall.

His heart was pumping, his nerves were skyrocketing, and he was ready to see you again. Ready to face the challenges ahead, ready to go through it all with you. The sounds indicating that the elevator stopped were the point of no turning back, and he will happily continue to move forward.

He made his way to your place. Flowers would've been appropriate, but there was no time to hesitate when that wooden barrier was in front of him. Swallowing a giant air bubble, he brought his fist up to it and carefully knocked on it. Standing to his full height, he moved his hands behind his back and tapped his foot for a bit.

A minute passed, and there was still no answer. You were probably using the bathroom, so he once again rapped against the door and patiently waited for a response.

Another minute went by, and there was not a single sound.

Nearly breaking out into a cold sweat, Miguel settled his ear on the door and attentively listened out for any noises of danger, your footsteps, anything. You could have peeked into the peephole and saw what it was, and now you're pretending that you aren't home. He would accept that if that were the case. But from what his hearing was picking up, or wasn't, it didn't seem like that was a plausible choice.

Moving away, his mind began to race. You usually don't step out on your days off, but you're an adult who can do whatever you want, and you value a sense of routine.

You could've gone for groceries or a walk around the neighborhood. Checking the clock on his watch, your workplace was still open. Ronnie perhaps could have called you into work. He remembers you saying that it's very rare for her to do something like that, but today might be different.

Not bothering to use the lift, Miguel darted towards the stairwell, jumping over a few steps. Dashing right out of the entrance, gaining a few bewildered stares from passersby, he hurtled in the direction of the antique store.

You had to be there; that's what he kept convincing himself. You weren't in any sort of trouble; you were needed at work because Ronnie requested extra hands. That's one of the most reasonable and logical explanations. That's the one he repeated in an attempt to cool his nerves.

In the distance, the shop was approaching closer in view. He knew he had to deal with your employer, but he would gladly accept the beating.

Bursting through the door, Miguel frantically began his search for you. Ronnie was startled by the suddenness but kept a strong act to not give it away.

“Ronnie, where is she?” He was peering in the back for any sign.

“You have a lot of fucking nerves showing your face here.” She refused to even glance his way as she scrolled through her tablet.

“I'm sure you're aware, but I give a two-count warning for someone to leave my establishment.” She stacked some books and placed the device underneath the counter. “That was one.”

“Ronnie, please listen. I-I know, I fucked up—I fucked up immensely. Please just tell me where she is so I can fix this. So I can make everything right.”

“I told you to take care of my girl. Now, she's a strong woman who can manage, but damn it, I have never seen her like this. She shouldn't exist? Are you fucking kidding me, my guy?” Her left hand was still hidden under. “Maybe it should be the other way around.”

Miguel winced at the words that he threw at you to be slapped right back. “I know, but if you please listen–”

“Should I even bother to mention how you fucked her, proceeded to act like she didn't exist, then broke up with her knowing she had work the next morning?” She yanked her bat out and aimed it right at Miguel. “Cute guys like you always have to have this bad rep, huh?”

Miguel put his hands up but kept his stance. He doesn't blame her for wanting to knock his lights out. “I know. I got my days mixed up when I made that idiotic choice. I shouldn't have done any of that to begin with; I should have been honest with my feelings. That's something I realize I need to work on.”

“You have a lot more than just feelings to deal with, man.” Ronnie's showdown wasn't letting up as she jabbed the aluminum weapon at his chest. “Now get out of my store; you know I'm not afraid to use this.” Her tone held every arctic bite to it.

Miguel closed his eyes and began to lower his body. Ronnie was taken aback as her eyebrows raised at this random display that he was doing. Not moving the bat from her position, Miguel was on his knees, hands by his head.

“What the heck, Miguel? Look, if you don't leave my store—”

“Please… I beg you to please hear me out. Tell me where she is.” His voice cracked as Ronnie's dead gaze wasn't helping. “Por favor…”

She tapped on the surface with her free hand and sucked in her teeth. Replacing the bat with the tablet, a holoscreen popped up into the air with a timer.

“You got one minute. Starting now.”

Miguel looked at the numbers going down, only to receive a grunt from your boss. “You're only getting this time. I'm not restarting.”

He simply nodded. “I love her, Ronnie. I'm in love with her. I was a coward who hurt the main person I should have never hurt to begin with. I am in love with her. I'm so terrified to face things that I kept myself trapped, but as time progressed with her, I unknowingly didn't realize she was helping me escape those perils bit by bit–”

“Fifteen seconds.”

“And I want to do right for her—I want to fix this. I need to fix this. Please, Ronnie, please tell me where she is so I can be the one to make this better.”

Beeping went off.

“Time's up.” Ronnie turned off the clock and pushed her device to the side, her expression unreadable.

Miguel's entire body drooped. From head to toe, he sulked back onto his feet and turned to make his way to the exit. Maybe he didn't deserve you. Maybe Ronnie saw something so disgusting that even he couldn't see it.

“The last thing she texted me was that she was going to the park.”

He nearly tripped; he was halfway to the door before whipping back over to Ronnie. “Wh-what?”

“She texted me nearly forty-five minutes ago that she was going to park when I checked in on her. I don't know if she's still there, but that's the last location I know.”

“Is that—that's where she is?” He was hovering close to the counter.

“I didn't stutter. She's at the park; she could possibly still be there, so you better start gunning your way over.” Ronnie smoothly spun her bat back into its rightful spot.

Miguel's initial dread lifted off as hope immediately replaced it. “I- Ronnie, gracias. Te debo mucho… I–can you tell her to stay where she is and that I'm headed that way?”

“Nope.”

He jumped a bit at that. “No? ¿Qué diablos? ¿Qué quieres decir con no?!” His face was scrunched, his hands forming back into fists, puncturing his skin to keep himself from striking the table.

“You heard me, pretty boy. Go out there and find her. This is between you two; you're both adults, so talk it out like adults.” She calmly moved things around when she sighed out due to Miguel's towering, persistent presence.

“Look, I know you love her. It's no secret, but I'm not going to come in the middle and alert her that you're coming, because it should be up to her to decide whether she wants to let you in or not.” She watched as he cooled himself down and steered a few inches away. “How she reacts upon seeing a surprise visit from you will give you what you need.”

“That seems unnecessarily spontaneous.”

“That's how you see it. But sometimes you gotta go for it.”

It is true. At the end of the day, it's your choice if things will carry on. And he's compliant with respecting your decisions, even if the outcome won't be in his favor.

“I guess I have no choice. Thanks, Ronnie. If things go well, I hope to see you more as well.” He was ready to head out when one more thing pulled him back. “Why did you tell me?”

“You were begging on your knees, and as much as I enjoy seeing a hunky beast of a man like you down there, it was for the wrong person.”

A hint of a smirk almost crossed Miguel's lips. “Never change, Ronnie.” And with a wave of her hand, Miguel was once again out in the summer's heat and breezy nature.

Shaking her head, she moved to the back and laughed. “Man, love makes you do some weird ass stuff. Dude is intense as hell.”

If he swung his way to the park, he could hopefully catch you before you left. He knew he should've gone to the park from the start. But it doesn't matter; he knows where you are, and that's the most important thing.

Suiting up in an alley, he clawed and leapt from different buildings when the lush greenery was in plain sight; it was empty, so there was no hassle when he materialized out and sped in. He knew the first place to check, still keeping an eye out in case you were strolling about.

When he came up to the center of the walkway, he looked at the bench in front, then whirled to the other. There was not a single trace of you in sight.

“No me hagas esto. Where did she go now?” If he had to scour and tear apart the entire city, there was not one hesitant bone in his body.

Thankfully, your place wasn't that far, so he raced back to try there one more time. Using long strides, he was almost at your place when he noticed two balloons floating perfectly in the window of a small store. A crescent moon and a star.

He thought back to the idea of giving a gift, especially during an urgent time such as this, but there was something hounding him to get it. Growling out, he rushed in, snatched the two balloons, and slammed his card on the conveyor belt, spooking the young worker.

“Uh, those are for display–”

“Just... take the card.”

With the balloons in hand and as fast as his legs could carry him, he found himself in front of the complex. Side-eyeing the stairwell, he trudged over and tied the moon and star on the tidy and clean rail.

He knew you were home.

Taking the stairs instead of the elevator, he practiced everything that he was going to say to you. He had to get this right; he couldn't lose you, and he didn't want to. Yet when he stood there again, knowing you were behind that locked threshold, it all went seemingly out of the window. Off the tallest structure in the entire multiverse.

With Ronnie's words still strumming high, his jittery hand knocked on the door, his breath held in with the unease of the unknown.

You lifted a brow and glanced at your phone to see if you had any missed messages. You weren't expecting anyone, and Ronnie didn't mention anything about visiting you, so you had no idea who it was.

The landlord? Maintenance? But nothing needed fixing? A neighbor requesting sugar? You inspected the peephole, and your heart nearly exploded out.

He was the last person you intended to have at your door, but there he was.

You weren't ready to face him—far from it. You could act like you're not home, but with his hearing, he might be able to hear your blood rushing through your veins.

You weren't ready. You simply weren't.

“Miguel? What… I- what are you doing here?” It's funny how your body always seems to betray your mind.

“May I come in?”

Words, phrases, sentences—all of it was stuck in your throat, stubbornly refusing to lodge their way out. You pushed the door in some way, so only your head and part of your torso could be seen.

“I-I—” You didn't know what to do. You wanted to make the right choice, and you have two clear-cut options.

Either you tell him to screw off and then ruthlessly shut the door on him.

Or you fight for you both and figure out what else lies more between, because deep down, you knew that there was more to this. There was more that needed to be broken down.

Your eyes stared at the floor before opening up all the way.

Miguel's muscles clenched and tightened. Feeling the strain coursing through him and what was in the air was killing him. He removed his sunglasses, placing them in his pockets, and his shoes, jutting them out on the bottom rack, so if things were to go south even more, he would be gone again, and maybe for good.

It's funny how the curtain call still held remnants of the show behind it.

“Sorry for the mess; I didn't know I would have somebody over.” You picked up some empty water bottles, dirty dishes, and clothes, sticking them where they belong.

“No, it's okay. I shouldn't have sprung up on you like this.”

“But you did, so... here we are.” Placing a few bowls in the sink, you hobbled over to the couch and sat your bottom on the less plump cushion. Miguel decided to stand right in the center, bottled up, not clearly knowing what he should do.

“Peter says hello, by the way. That Mayday wants to hang out with you again.”

“I'm glad she enjoyed my company and wanted to see me again.”

“She wasn't the only one.” The air felt heavier.

You both gazed around your place, scared to look at one another. Not much has changed; maybe a few added knickknacks, but the overall coziness was the same. He missed this. Continuing to scan over, his eyes jumped open a slight bit at a familiar blooming vase of flowers settled on the dining room table.

“You—you still have them?” He nodded over to the healthy tulips and daisies. Some of the petals may have fallen off, but they were still trying their best to push on.

“Hm? Oh yeah. I still want to see them flourish. I didn't see a point in having them wither alongside me; they should have the right to grow and have a radiant life for themselves.”

There was that gentleness. It seemed to have never fizzled in you.

God, he missed you.

His maroon eyes are on your body, taking in every part of you. You are beautiful—a fine painting, the moon in the endless sky, the prettiest flower in the garden. You are so gentle, bringing pure serendipity into his life.

He needed to break from this to get to you.

One strand goes down.

Before he even got to say anything, your words finally found where they needed to go.

“You hurt me, Miguel.”

There was a sting to that. A desolate tone that melded in with the sharpness.

“You really… hurt me.” You scooted to the edge of the couch, arms crossed, leering at him.

With a deep breath, he clutched on to that strength. “I know, and I'm sorry. I–” he still didn't know what to say. “I ruin everything that falls victim to me. I need—have—had to make sure things didn't go off the rails, but that's all I'm good at. I'm only good at hurting people.”

“There! Right there! You say you hurt people, but do you know why? Why do you think you hurt the ones around you?” There was no easing into this, but after being ignored for so long, the patience you held had worn thin. Once again, like last time, you let your mouth run free.

Miguel gulped, but pressed on. “Because I'm... because I–I don't want others to make mistakes, so I have to fix them, but when I try to fix them, they get worse. That's how this cycle goes. Because that's what I'm good at: ruining others.”

“You take things at face value, and all the aspects around you that you self-inflict cause the trouble to bubble over more.” You stood up and took a couple steps toward him. “You take that one thing that goes wrong, and you seem to run from it!”

“I'm selfish, mi… mi Luna. I'm truly selfish.” Miguel paces unevenly in your living room.

The air was unsettling. It was an awkward discussion that sat heavy on you both, but you had to persevere.

“Fine, let's deal that hand then.” You folded your hands as if you were playing a card game. “I'm seeing something different.”

Miguel went to lean in, a bit curious, but you swiftly placed your arms to the sides.

“Self-destruction.” You firmly stood as tall as you could go. “Self-destruction is what it is. When you hurt yourself, you hurt the ones around you, whether it be intentional or not.” You comb your hands through your hair to help keep yourself tranquil. “Does that make you selfish? No! Maybe not in your case. Yes, they may come off that way because you try to take a hold on every little thing.”

Miguel's heavy brows lowered. He is selfish, as he kept so much from you, hid the canonical events, and blamed you because he believed this world was going to end. He selfishly left you out of the loop, all because he believed it would've kept you safe.

“Tell me.”

He snapped back from the endless zone he had sucked himself into. “What?”

“Tell me what you're thinking. Be honest with me, Miguel. Speak your mind.”

Those eyes pleaded with an intense determination. You want to be there for him, you want to understand, and you want him to let you see what lies behind those cracks.

“No, I am selfish. I kept so much from you so you wouldn't get hurt. I didn't want you to be in any sort of crossfire where so much pain would be thrown at you.”

You threw your hands up in aggravation. “But it happened anyway. It. Happened. Anyways. You bring yourself down so much that it affects others. It's like you're a burning building.”

“I don't think I—”

“If a fire isn't controlled or contained, it starts to spread, destroying everything in its path. Does it know that it's doing it? No. It only knows to keep going until it reaches a barrier that will eventually stop it. But that's the thing: it leaves so much harm and havoc that it doesn't realize the full effect it has until it's too late. And that's what happened, Miguel.

“Your need to handle everything damages you, and you end up bottling up so much that people will start to wonder what truly started the fire. I've been down roads like that, and they aren't fun.” You didn't realize your shoulders were heavily moving up and down, but you went on. “You don't know how many people are truly damaged until your destruction is done.

“You're able to tick so easily. The moment something goes wrong, you go into a spiral of an internal war rampage, afraid for things to fall apart again. It's scary when you can't have that control over things; it does make one feel hopeless, so one will do anything to have that charge and that power for themselves.

“And that's what you did. Usually people go for their hair and cut it, not telling a person they shouldn't exist, that they're the cause of things going wrong, and that the entire world is ending.” You bit your inner cheek before sadly chuckling. “You know what? People probably have done both.”

You collapsed back on the sofa, stunned by how much you had kept locked away after all that time. Your heart was going a million miles per hour, and your brain, your being, felt exhausted.

He took in every word. Many did see him as this unstoppable force, this terrifying being that never ceased. Hell, even when he went after Miles, he couldn't stop before it was too late. There were heaps of mayhem left in his paths, but he was only doing it because he instilled that it was the right thing to do.

“I'm so sorry. I–I'm so scared of these things slipping out of my hands. Afraid of things not going accordingly due to what I've seen.”

“And you don't want to go through those again, and I completely understand. You simply can't go around and mow others down or force them into these cages you built.”

Miguel flinched when he thought back to how he strictly wanted to force Miles into a cage that he had created.

“Mi Luna.”

“I really tried, Miguel. I really did.” Your eyes met for a split second before you both turned away. “I know you saw them. You saw me reaching out for you. I only wanted one; a single ‘I'm okay,’ would have been enough.”

You tried to be strong, but the emotions won. Streaks of tears dripped down, and you quickly wiped them away. “You face these things alone; you manifest these high walls and towers, and you proceed to hide behind them, and you just—” you shuddered, trying to keep yourself level-headed to the highest degree. “You ignore the ones around you. You place an abundance of pressure and expectations on yourself that, when it comes down, you go distant.

“You distanced yourself before you broke up with me. You distanced yourself when you saw me at the park that you decided to go to. When we were supposed to naturally let the conversations die down, you acted like I didn't exist or tried to rush for it. When I saw you jump from your corporate tower, chasing after somebody, you proceeded to ignore me when all I wanted to do was make sure that the person I love was safe and sound.”

You sucked in a sudden gust of air and held your breath. You brought yourself back down, meditating your mind, but it was the hardest thing as your teardrops fell on the floor. When did you stand back up?

His knees were ready to give out. Your soft chanting of “in and out” was the only sound surrounding you two. His gaze landed on yours; he eyed your weeping stature, and it was killing him. You were trying so hard to be strong. You held on with so much strength and compassion for him that he was too petrified.

He was so scared that he was incapable of this. He was so scared that it was all going to go away, but it didn't.

It never fucking left. It was here the whole time. This love, this gentleness—you were here. He was here.

He was in love.

He is in love.

“Oh… oh, mi Luna. Ay, qué he hecho? Oh Dios, ¿qué he hecho? ¿Qué no he hecho?”

His legs gave out as he buckled on the floor. “Mi Luna... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. I–”

Was being tough the right thing to do? Holding it all in so you wouldn't have to be worried or in pain, that he wouldn't have to face these demons again?

Then he tipped his head up to you.

“I envy them.”

You didn't speak; you felt like it wasn't the right moment.

“Like you, I envy them so much.” His unsheathed finger was shakingly pointed at the vase. “They aren't afraid. They are never afraid to show when they need help. They never run; they may try to shrivel, but they know that there is someone there who is wanting to give them the love they deserve.”

He began to walk on his knees. “They know there is someone who is there to watch them and see them at their full potential because of that love.”

You stood frozen in place as he got closer. “All they want to do is watch them grow and fight through it all.” He was right in front of you, his hands on the floor, his face looking dead at you. “Mi Luna. All I did was wilt. All I did was let my petals and color fade away because I believed that I didn't deserve that love again. That I wasn't allowed or capable to do it once more.”

His eyes felt watery. “But damn it, mi Luna, I… I was wrong. I was wrong about how I saw this. How I saw us.” His drops of rain joined yours. “I was wrong…”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face into the curve of your stomach as he cried out.

“I was wrong. Damn it, mi Luna. I was wrong about everything.” His sobs grew and grew. “About the canon, the multiverse—everything!”

“Miguel,” your hands hesitantly went for the top of his head as you started to slowly brush his hair back. Soft whimpers escaped alongside him.

“You are the one I want. From the moment we got close, I was so scared to lose you. To lose the one I love once more.” He coughed, but went on. ”I let my instincts get the better of me, a-and I caused you so much grief.”

“Miguel…”

“The canon didn't... It doesn't predetermine our lives. It never did. I was so sure I—”

Your shirt grew damper as Miguel's cries rang deeply. His talons clasped at you, but you didn't care about the pricking pain.

“It's okay; let it out. Don't hold it in.” You heaved greatly, stroking his hair some more. “It's okay to say what you have to say.”

Several strings popped in unison.

“I love you, mi Luna.” He pulled you closer. “I love you! I was so frightened to say it because I thought if I did, the world would disappear into nothingness.”

His burning red eyes met yours. “It was never you. It was me. I couldn't risk it all again. I couldn't risk losing another.” The showers of droplets refused to end. “But I was too stupid to realize that my actions did everything and so much more.”

You were locked in place. You were left speechless, feeling the quivers as your body and mind felt his raw emotions. Your own legs wanted to stumble down as well, but you planted your feet on the floor and hugged him. You hugged him as his muffled cries managed to sprout even bigger, but that's what he needed and what you both needed.

To let it out.

To let all that you both have packed and tucked so far down that the lids were overspilling, but the tops kept trying to keep them contained.

“Oh, Miguel…” You pulled back and carefully stroked the crest of his cheekbone.

“Mi Luna, por favor. Please hear me when I tell you how sorry I am. I never meant for any of that to happen, but I let it anyway, and I am so sorry.” Miguel's eyes were bloodshot; his face was red and stained with snot and tears. “Please allow me to make this right. For you, for us.”

“Mi Estrella, you–”

“I want to be better; I need to be better for you; I need to do this. I have to be better so I can–”

You shushed him, and he closed his mouth without a second thought. His shoulders juddered as he sniffled a couple of times.

“Miguel, no. That's not… Don't be better for me because you feel as though you need to. Do it because you want to be better. You even told me before, and just now, that you want to be better.” Your thumb ran down to wipe up his tear stains. “You've burdened yourself to make so many other lives better. Other worlds and universes.”

“Mi Luna…”

“Now take the time to be a better you for yourself, Miguel O'Hara. Allow Miguel O'Hara to feel that warmth and love. Allow Miguel O'Hara to realize that there are those who want him to have the best life. Let Miguel O'Hara be happy or sad, to open up when he wants, to be guided if he feels lost.”

Miguel was in complete awe.

“Let Miguel O'Hara live.”

Sniffling and breathing. You both didn't move a single inch.

He only saw you as the world came to a standstill when he released you from his embrace. You let go, nervous, but observed him carefully.

Wiping his face with his sleeve, he wobbled onto his feet and barely stood at his full height. You didn't know what to expect or what he was going to say, but you waited anxiously.

“Mi Luna. Oh, mi Luna.” His fingers entwined in your hair as he felt the sting coming from his eyes down to the bridge of his nose. “Eres tan gentil. Eres tan compasivo. Te amo. Te amo, mi Luna.”

His lips found yours, your bodies crumpling together. You throw your arms over his shoulders, feeling the weight of your body leave the wooden ground.

Your fingers curled around his curly locks, a longing kiss that you both yearned for so long. Miguel sheathed his talons, gliding up and down your back, taking every bit of you that he severely missed.

You don't know how long you two stayed this way before you moved away, with harsh breathing on both ends. This man was so viscerally integrated into your head and spirit that you nearly pinched yourself awake, and your alarm will go off, yanking you to the cycle of ‘healing’ and slogging days.

But he was still here in the flesh. His thick brows, his prominent cheekbones. The handsome Renaissance marble sculpture on the runway was all here. A breathless chuckle left, gaining a smile from Miguel.

“What are you thinking?”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” You brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.

“You've said something akin to it.” He situated you both on the couch, arranging you two so you were sitting across from each other.

Laying your head on the head of the cushion, your eyes danced around the ceiling above, with Miguel joining in. A recreational memory. You were hand in hand, as the path you were walking has taken a turn—not an abrupt stop, a turn of wanting to understand where it will go now.

“Miguel?”

“Si, mi Luna?”

“We will have to start anew.”

He turns downward toward you, but you keep looking up. “Start anew?”

You nod, tearing your vision on to him. “Yes. Picking back up where we left off will feel... weird in a sense.” Your eyes were on your interlocked fingers. “We… we have a lot to work on.”

Miguel squeezed your hand and nodded. “I know, my moon.”

“There is so much we have to work on. I have a lot to work on. You... you have a lot to work on.”

“I do, mi Luna. And I will. Not only for you, not just for us. But I will do it for me as well. I will do anything to make these amends.”

“Therapy... therapy would be a good place to try. I'll be by your side, of course; I just think they can do more than I ever could.”

“But you've done so much for me.” Miguel had his full attention on you as your thumb tenderly caressed over his knuckles.

“I might have, but there's only so much I can do. And I think it'll be good for you to get things you've been holding off. Lift those constraints that harm you.”

He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes. He did feel slightly skeptical, not wanting to let that caution out into the wind. But for that future, he will allow the breeze to bring it where it needs or wants to be.

“I… I will see what I can do and how to go about getting the help I need.”

“Does the spider society not offer good therapists?”

His hand was constricted a bit too tightly, and his knee was trembling. There was clear panic on his face that he was fighting back, but your hand hovered over him, and you waited. He attentively stared at your fingers and slowed his speed.

You were still so calming.

“Go ahead and speak. Don't hold it in, mi Estrella. Let it out.”

Miguel gulped, loosening his grip, but held that firm grasp. He told you what happened and how the society was now possibly going to be under leadership because he was scared and wounded. Mentally wounded. How a villain was the one that set the domino effect off of the canon being wrong, well, how his interpretation was incorrect.

“Was the villain the one you were chasing?”

“No, no. That was somebody who I thought was going to ruin another world, but like with you, I was wrong about that.” Miguel huffed out a sad laugh before his eyes glazed over. “I have so much to—”

“You will get there. These things don't magically get better overnight. Some wounds may even take years to properly heal, and even still, they could be sealed, but the scars still remain.”

He took in your words, marinating them. You resonate with tranquility and serenity. It worried him to no end.

But he was ready to break it.

“I constantly convince myself that I don't deserve you. That someone like me would break a beautiful soul like yours.”

“Miguel–”

He propped himself back on his knees, adjusting himself between your legs. "But, mi Luna, every time I'm around you, I realize that isn't the case. How you open your heart to me, no matter what. Even when I tried to be the bearer of the worst, you were still there, hands out, ready to pull me back in.”

He took your small hands into his enormous claws, kissing each one. “I'm still scared, and who knows how long it'll stay this way? However, for you and me, I'm ready to fight it; I'm ready to shove those doubts far away. I want to let you in, mi Luna. I want you to be here with me. I want to be here with you. I want to show you parts of me that I have hidden or I've never even known about.”

The tip of his thumb rolled over your trembling lip.

“I want to start this new chapter with you. I want to start living with you, beside you. Mi Luna, I know you told me to live for me, and I promise I will, but will you also let me show you this new step, this new beginning I want to share and cherish with you?”

Your eyes were blurry as you wiped them with your forearm. “You… big, loveable oaf. You already know the answer to that.”

“Only if you say it.” His lips grazed against yours.

“Yes. Yes, mi Estrella. I want you.”

More strings snapped off.

His mouth found yours once more. Tongues clashing but swirling in tandem, fervently.

Your hands massage his collarbone, shoulders, and upper back. You wanted to feel him, to memorize him all over, and to take your time. The journey may take time, but the destination will be there.

Miguel grabbed your calves and had you wrap your legs around the middle of his back, leaning you gently on the back of the couch, not breaking the kiss.

When you pull away for air, he trails down, leaving light kisses on your cheeks, chin, and forehead, before making his way down to your neck. Your body relaxes, and his stubble and tongue tickle you.

“Miguel...” you exhale his name like a smooth puff of smoke when he nips at your skin.

“Mi Luna, I love these sounds.” His tongue-making figure eights on the crook of your neck, near the partially healed puncture marks. “I love your whimpers.” He began to suck on the tiny holes, his fangs occasionally drawing out.

“Miguel,” you groaned, a shiver racing down your spine.

“I love when you say my name. It's warmer than a spring day; it brings me to my knees, mi Luna.” The suction picked up, making sure to leave a nice mark for others to see. “I love seeing your body filled with these. I love adding more to an already breathtaking artpiece.”

He recaptured you in another kiss, biting the bottom, the glossy appendage tracing the rim of your lips. “I love how sweet you are.” His hands roamed your form, causing you to quiver and moan. “I love how sweet you are from head to toe, inside and out.”

He was back, giving your neck attention, lapping at your heated skin, and nipping the flesh. His endless praise only began as he tugged at your shirt, tracing the seams. “I love how responsive you are to me. I love how you make me riled up from simply making those gorgeous melodies.”

He folds the bottom of the shirt, exposing your stomach. Feather touches from his mouth and fingertips had your heart fluttering and your mind in a daze as you could only say his name. Pinching your sides, you carefully eyed him, making phantom lines and zig-zags with the tip of his tongue all over your belly. Your hips bucked upwards, as your blurred vision was stuck in a hypnotic trance when you looked into those burning cerise eyes.

Miguel wanted to take care of you; he wanted you to feel his appreciation and dedication in any way, shape, or form. Pushing the fabric up, with his tongue trailing behind, he took it off and placed it on the ground. Eyeing your breasts, he began to press small pecks from the side, dipping into the slope and lathering it.

You sharply inhaled, your head canted, writhing back and forth. Your nails were in Miguel's scalp when he took a nipple in between his teeth, gnawing at the nub before closing his mouth around it and sucking it hungrily. One hand groped the unattended breast, while the other stroked your thigh and waist. His fingers were twisting and pinching delicately.

Gasping, you cry out when he teases your covered vagina. The thin bottoms and panties weren't doing much to shield from the treatment. Reeling from your glistening peak, he bit above the areola, leaving teeth indents.

“Mi Luna, I love you. You're heavenly. You are exquisite.” He palms down to the waistband of your pajamas as you knead the nape of his neck, bringing him back to you. Stripping his jacket away, you palm his sturdy muscles. You whine out, already missing his lips, when he rips his shirt right over his head.

“Mi Luna. Amo mi Luna radiante y hermosa.” He starts to pull down your pants, his pants tightening more than ever, but he doesn't care about that. “I want to make my moon feel wonderful.”

Lifting your behind to help, your eyes were half-lidded when he fully got rid of both the panties and pajama bottoms.

“I love the faces you make. Rather, they are lustful like this, or, when you're thinking, happy, or curious. I just love how lovely you look.”

Before you could get a word out, Miguel sunk down some, until his face was merely centimeters from your dampened sex. “I love how wet you get. I love this pussy so much, mi Luna. I love your thighs.” He grazed over the softness, leaving as many love-bites as he possibly could.

“Miguel!” You wept out, body aching, head foggy, and dizzy. But you were still hearing every word he was saying.

“I love the puffiness and the smell.” His breath tickled, and his nose rubbed against the folds. “I love how it looks; I love how sensitive it is.” He pressed a kiss on it, receiving a strong shudder. “I especially love the taste.”

He dove in; the warmth from you and his tongue had you whining. The way he slid around your labia, feeling every flick of your clit, the penetration of the muscle wiggling wildly, the thrums sending vibrations up your core, electrifying shocks in your veins.

“Miguel. Oh, Miguel!” You called out. Fingers raked through his thick locks, as his work was growing sloppier and messier.

Your juices splashed whenever his tongue was shoved in and out, his teeth rolling on your sensitive nub, having you see the stars and moon itself. The juicy slurps and his groans were music to your ears, turning you on even further.

“Miguel. Shit… Miguel, I love you—ahh!” A silent scream was evoked when two of his fingers plunged into your opening, pumping in until they disappeared deep into your gripping heat.

“I love your cries and your tears. I love your bumbling whenever you get lost in this haze.” He slid to his knuckles, lingering for what felt like an eternity, then buried them back in, your walls sensing every breach.

“Miguel!” Your voice carried throughout your apartment, maybe even out the window. Your wails rose as his eyes stared at you in an intoxicating manner.

“I love when you are at a loss for words, mi Luna.” He bent towards you, teasing the shell of your ear with his fangs. “I love how you do the same for me.” He placed his lips on the side of your cheek before moving to gaze at your disheveled state.

He never wanted this end, and he will always hold you close to him. And this time, he will actually mean it.

The throbbing in his jeans was unbearable, to the point that they might have cut off all blood circulation, but he prospered in wanting to please you. “I love how well you take me.” He moaned out when you scratched down his biceps, sending tingles through him.

“I love when you mark me; I love that you're not afraid to do so.” He stimulated your clit with his thumb, never letting up that speed.

“I'm cumming. Going to cum-” You slurred, lulling to the side to expose your neck, which Miguel gladly kissed.

“Si, mi Luna. I love when you reach this high. Cum for me, on my fingers, mi Luna. You can do it, my moon. Puedes hacerlo.” He murmured in your ear, licking the lobe, when you snapped.

Your walls contracted around his long fingers, causing violent tremors as you squealed out in pure ecstasy. Your head clouded in the stars, maybe further on. Your ragged heaves were celestial in the air. No song could ever compare.

He drew out and eyeballed the mess before cleaning it with his tongue. “I love how sweet and tangy you are.” He rose to his full height and discarded his pants; you followed when you reached the compressing briefs.

The splotches from his pre-cum soak the cloth thoroughly. “I love that you get me this way, mi Luna.” Moving them down his long legs, he stepped out of the briefs and stood in front of you.

Every twitch and pulse sent you in a spiral. The gleams of the clear liquid weeping down to the base and the red veins running down were a wondrous sight. Your limbs wrap around his back; put your hands on his ass and wet your lips. You instinctively enveloped your mouth over the tip, tasting the clear saltiness, your tongue stroking the head as you began to bob back and forth.

“Ah—joder, mi Luna.” He pushes you back, making you sulk a tad bit. “I love that you are always wanting to care for me, but I want to care for you, mi Luna.”

You could only nod as he kissed your forehead and sat on the couch. Grabbing you swiftly, he perched you on his lap, skimming over your tender and soft sides. Savoring your tang on his tongue, you clenched onto his shoulders and rolled your hips together.

You forgot exactly how big he was.

“It's been a minute, Miguel.”

“I know, mi Luna. Your pace, always your pace.”

Capturing you back in his mouth, you lined your entrance against him as the swollen tip achingly rubbed it. Your whines echoed in his ears, your juices smearing the reddening head. The intoxicating fluids mixed as you started to sink down his length.

“Ahh! Mmm… Fu-fuck, Miguel.”

“It's okay; take your time; don't rush.”

His thumbs grazed your jawline and cheeks, talking you through it. He eyed every facial change, from pain to concentration to an almost euphoric pleasure.

Another noiseless shriek escapes, your back arching and your breasts pushing against his hefty chest. He peered down at the outline of his shaft, your walls clutching him firmly.

“Mierda, mi Luna, me perdí este hermosa coño, joder, joder.” A guttural growl racked in his throat, fighting himself from wanting to go at it.

“I'm going to—fuck—I'm going to start moving.”

“Ah–go ahead… Shit, go ahead.” His talons slipped and accidentally lodged a bit in your hips.

Your snug, slick walls fluttered when you rocked forward. Your knees prodded his waist to keep steady as you lifted yourself up and down in a slow, rhythmic motion. Your moans combined, drowning any city sounds that snuck their way in.

“Ay, mi Luna. I love how you perfectly fit around me.” He scooted up some and latched your legs around his waist, his arms clinging to your lower back.

“Big, so big. Always been so good.” You grappled your arms loosely around his neck. “Your cock is so good.”

“I love hearing your beautiful and graceful inner thoughts; rather, it's your ramblings or something silly. I love them all.”

With no warning, he began to pump faster, his pelvis slapping into your behind. Your garbled shouts were alluring blessings to Miguel. You dug your nails into his back as he kept you balanced.

“Miguel!” He strenuously bucked upwards, his hold on your own hips once more to keep you balanced.

“I love how gentle you are. I love how compassionate and understanding you are for the ones who are lucky to be in your life.”

“Miguel!”

“I love how resilient you can be, never wanting to give up. I love your wisdom. I love how you see life, mi Luna.”

He picked up his momentum when an unexpected peak spilled over from you. Your walls pulsating and your babbling didn't go unnoticed, but he kept going, and you did too.

This is what your love was, is, and will be.

An endless ocean that holds many vast mysteries to explore and seek out. The tides will rise from the highs to the lows, but it'll still be the same bountiful waves that will always flow.

A burning passion that no matter what it throws at you two, it'll only augment the rawness of your devotion for another.

You repeated his name in that trance you would get lost in. The couch was wet from your sweat and his. The murky fluids crawling down and staining it, saturating the color. Your lips meet in a fiery embrace, both clenching on tightly as Miguel rocked upwards, his balls creating that sharp snapping sound against your cheeks.

His vermillion, incandescent eyes only pay attention to you and nothing else.

“I love you. I love you. You have my heart. You have my soul, my body, and my mind; you have it all. I want you, I need you, and you make me strive to be better. You give me that strength, that hope, and that fight to keep going.”

You both cry out, tears mixing with sweat as Miguel continues to pump wildly. He's opening himself up to you; that's all he ever wants to do.

“I love you, Miguel.” Your arms tighten around his neck, afraid to let go, but he reassures you by holding you even tighter.

“I love you too, mi Luna. I will always love you.”

His lips slam into yours; this kiss more passionate than the others shared before. Tongues meld into one, just as your bodies do. The clashing of your damp skin resounded all over.

He runs his tongue along yours, his hands wandering over, thoroughly taking his time to worship you. Pinching, grasping, cupping, and tracing every curve and bend.

“I love you. I will never stop saying it. I love you. I love you.”

“Mi Estrella!” Your legs shook as another massive release found its way through.

Miguel breathlessly placed his lips against your forehead, the oxygen from both your lungs thick and high.

But he wasn't done. He picked you up and pressed your back against the wall near your bedroom door. Your legs were still tangled around his waist, with him buried deep into your core.

“Mi-Miguel.” You whispered against his lips before crashing back into them. He began to thrust at that fierce pace as you screamed into his mouth.

“You make me whole. I want you, and only you. I love you, mi Luna, my universe, my galaxy.” His forehead was on yours, groaning out from the squelching and tightness of your overstimulated cunt.

He was preventing himself from bursting, keeping that ravaging, beastly pace, but it was becoming rather difficult. Especially when another earth-shattering orgasm tumbled its way out of you. Miguel punched a hole several inches above you, your fingernails clawing up his back, drawing a bit of blood.

He ferociously pulled you in for a kiss, stumbling his way into your bedroom and onto your bed, right into a mating press.

“You didn't change the mattress.” He felt the shreds from the last mistake he caused you those months ago.

“I could never find the chance to. So I simply kept them hidden.”

Immense guilt struck him when your hand reached up to cup his jaw and part of his cheek. Your heart was heavy, but you gave a warm smile.

“That's why we're here now; we will work through this.”

He didn't let the tears be hidden. He pecked your thumb and under your eye. “I love you, mi Luna. Nunca dejaré de decirlo.”

Nuzzling his head in between your jaw and neck, a hoarse groan releases as he pulls all the way out and slowly buries himself to the hilt. He repeats this pattern, the sopping slaps sending cascades of goosebumps whenever his balls come into contact with your folds.

His hands are on your sheets, claws tucked away, whispering sweet nothings on your ardent skin. Your bed frame creaks along with every rock of Miguel's hips as he turns his steady, erotic pace into feverish strokes, bucking into you with reckless abandon.

Your raspy cries and his husky moans, the headboard bumping into the walls, the ivory moonlight glimmering in the room.

Miguel missed this.

Miguel missed you. He missed the thoughts of those beautiful cherry-red-eyed children, the ones with your beaming smile. The ones who will have both of your strong-willed stubbornness. The ones will have your benevolence. The ones who will likely have his powers.

The ones who will be loved by you both no matter what happens.

His thrusts became inhuman. You yelled out, your arms hurled around his shoulders, your hands were on the base of his neck, and you clung to the ends of his hair.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you, mi Luna. I love you. I love you.”

You panted in unison. Nearing that edge. Moaning out as you felt that raw ardency, his genuine love.

You are seeing his true feelings. His true thoughts. His true love.

Your teardrops stream alongside his. Because in this true moment, nothing will break this barrier. Nothing will ever wedge between you two. You felt that commitment that he can now fully allow to show and embrace.

You love Miguel, and Miguel loves you.

Your hearts beat in sync as you got closer and closer. Your bodies together as one. That's all you two could ever want.

“Mi Luna!”

“Mi Estrella!”

String after string of his love shoots deeply into you as you milk every drop. You sobbed out, shuddering madly. The kiss you shared was frantic, as droplets of his warming tears dripped onto you.

He quickly found his fangs in your neck, biting down harshly. He is happy. He is loved. He wants to continue to leave his mark on you, whether it be physically, spiritually, or mentally.

“Mi luna, te amo. Gracias, gracias por todo. Nunca más te dejaré, quería estar a tu lado entonces, ahora y hasta el final. I love you, mi Luna. Mi corazón. Mi vida.”

A curve of your smile graced your face as you caught some of it. “You're... you're welcome... I love you too, mi Estre-”

You went limp, and Miguel began to take care of you. He will always take care of you like you would do for him. He held you close because he refused to let you go again. He kissed the crown of your hair as you drifted off into his arms.

A place you'll be in now and forever.

Miguel awoke in the room. He peered around to see nearly, if not all, of the ropes cut from his body.

He was finally able to visibly distinguish the room. Illuminated with golden copper, it brightened the exit that has been facing him all this time.

Tugging that last string free, he ascended onto his feet, even striding as he pressed on, clasping onto the brass handle.

He was going to know. He knew he should.

He opened the wooden frame, stepping out unhurriedly.

There, his eyes met with a field that was blanketed. A plain that held what he longed for.

A field of lavender and marigolds.

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

Tag list: @prozacgooble @sanguwuxyoonbummy @oharaslove @ella-janehaven

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