#maybe they didn’t spend as much time together as they used to…

[blushsturns]

Hiii could you do a Chris version of the fic where reader does the trend of not saying ily back and he starts crying after she leaves?

title: love you back

word count: 1717

matt’s version is here!

Your boyfriend Chris was lying next to you on the bed, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled up against your chest. You wrapped your arms around him to pull him even impossibly closer, your head resting comfortably on his chest. You took in a deep breath to take in his intoxicating scent, a satisfied hum leaving your lips. You loved laying here with him, cuddling him, and being close to him at all times. It was nice that Chris was also clingy with you, so the relationship wasn’t one sided.

“Do you have to go film a car video with your brothers, baby? Do they really need you there?” You whined out, your bottom lip jutting out into a small pout.

He looked down at you, his ocean blue eyes filled with sadness, his fingers moving up and down your lower back in a slow, comforting motion. “I know, baby. I wish I could skip out on this one. Luckily, it’s just a car video and nothing too crazy. You gonna be good when I’m gone?”

He flashed you a small smirk after he spoke, wiggling his eyebrows at you playfully. His hand moved underneath your shirt from behind to begin running his fingers against your bare skin causing a soft shudder to run down your spine at the sensation. “You know I will. I’m buried in homework, literally.”

The homework that you have been neglecting has been piled up next to you on the bed. At this point, you both were probably laying on the papers, but you didn’t care at this very moment. You wanted to spend as much time with Chris as possible.

Just when you thought you had more time together, Chris’ phone rang with Nick’s name displayed on the screen. Chris groaned in frustration, pulling away from you to immediately answer it. “Hello?” Pause. “Yes?” Another pause. He looks at you, mouthing Nick’s name as if you didn’t already see his name pop up on the screen. “Okay, be there in 10. Bye.” Chris sighed hard as he set his phone down next to him, pulling his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed, his hands moving into his hair. “I’m sorry I gotta leave, ma.”

You immediately shake your head and move your body over to sit next to him on the edge of the bed, placing your hand onto his thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll be here when you get here back. Give us, and me, some good content, okay?”

Chris looked at you with a widening grin on his face, a soft chuckle emitting from his lips. “That I can do.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Okay, baby, I’m gonna go before they cut off my head, or my dick. Maybe both. I’ll pick up some takeout on the way home.”

“My man.” You say simply, and proudly as you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering there for a moment before pulling away. “Now go before they really cut off your head and your dick. You need those, and honestly, so do I.” You flash him a small smirk before allowing a soft giggle to emit from your lips.

Chris lets out a soft chuckle and nods his head, getting up from the bed and grabs his phone, slipping it into his pocket. He leans down to place his index finger underneath your chin to tilt your head up, your eyes locking together in a brief moment before he presses his lips back against yours sweetly. You kiss him back softly, smiling against his lips before allowing him to pull away and he walked over to the doorway before turning to look back at you. “Alright, ma. I’ll be back before you know it. I love you.”

After you hear him say I love you, you debate if you should pull the little prank on him that you saw earlier when you took a break from your homework. It was a video of the girlfriend not saying I love you back to the boyfriend and he genuinely got so confused about it. It wasn’t like you to not say it back, and you already knew Chris would notice it right away, but he’s messed with you before, why not get him back?

“Have a good time filming, baby!” Was all you said back, flashing him a small, innocent smile as you stared up at him.

Your eyes stayed locked onto his face the entire time as you noticed his facial expression changed. He went from smiling, to suddenly he was confused. His eyebrow arched up in a confused motion, looking down at you. “Ma, I said I love you. Did you hear me?”

You nodded your head at his words, biting gently onto your bottom lip as you looked at him. You felt bad, but you wanted to play along with the little joke to see what would happen. Chris was always full of jokes and even pulled some pranks on you and always fell from them, but you never really pulled anything on him before. You get most of your material from TikTok and you doubt that Chris has seen anyone do this to their significant other before. “I said have a good time filming.” Was all you replied back with.

He immediately walked back over to the bed and sat down next to you on the bed. He grabbed your hand in his, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. His face filled with worry, concern, sadness. It made your heart ache immediately seeing him like this and you knew you couldn’t play around much longer if he was going to be this upset about it. You never wanted to upset him, ever. “Baby, what’s wrong? I said I love you and you didn’t say it back, did I do something wrong?”

“No!” You immediately said, shaking your head and squeezing his hands back. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all.”

“I feel like I did. It’s not like you to not say I love you back, especially not when one of us are leaving to go somewhere.” Sadness filled his voice, his thumb running across the back of your palm, which usually relaxes you, but you felt the guilt inside of you eating you alive as you tried to keep up with the silly little prank.

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all, baby. I promise.” You squeezed his hand tightly, scooting closer to him as you kept your eyes solely focused on him.

“But you didn’t..say.. do you love me?” He looked at you with tears welling up in his eyes and that’s when you knew you couldn’t play around anymore. You didn’t like to see Chris upset. It wasn’t often when he showed his emotions like this, but he wasn’t afraid to show them which meant that he was genuine and true about his emotions and didn’t care who saw him cry, even if it made him feel vulnerable.

You nod your head immediately, your heart aching as you notice a tear had fallen down Chris’ cheek. You used your free hand to lean over to wipe it away, feeling like you were on the brink of tears yourself. “Baby, I was kidding. Of course I love you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.” You squeezed his hand tightly, playing with the ring on his finger. “So, I saw a video of a couple not saying I love you back to the other and thought it would be silly to do to you. I didn’t mean to upset you. It was supposed to be funny.”

Chris looked at you the entire time as you spoke, his eyebrow furrowed up in a confused manner, pressing his lips together in a firm line before opening his mouth up to speak, “Is this you getting me back from the silly little pranks I pulled on you like when I told you that the store didn’t have your favorite lipstick when in reality I forgot the name of it and didn’t wanna ask you without looking suspicious?”

You rolled your eyes as he reminded you of the story from part of your Christmas gift last year. Typical Chris to not just ask you, or someone else and instead just not get it because he didn’t want to get the wrong thing. He meant well, and made up for it, but still. “I guess it is.” You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

His body seemed to relax, the tension in the room had faded and his cheeks were slightly blotchy from crying, but his blue eyes were bright and full of warmth and happiness, rather than the sadness that had filed them minutes prior. “What am I gonna do with you, hm?” He smirked at you as he licked over his lips, pulling his free hand over to grip your chin with his fingers with a bit of force, causing a soft gasp to emit from your lips. “You gonna make it up to me, my little jokester?”

You loved when he was a little rough with you, especially when you knew the reasons behind it. “And just how would I do that that, baby?”

He grinned at your question, keeping his grip on your chin so your eyes can lock together in an intense gaze, his voice teasing, filling with need and desire. “When I get home, you’re all mine. No homework, no videos, no distractions. You’re mine and you’re going to make it up to me. The only thing I want to hear come out of that pretty mouth tonight is how much you love me, and how I make you feel. Understood?”

You nodded your head slowly, a soft whimper leaving your lips at the tone of his voice and the feeling of his grip against your chin. His hot and heavy breath lingered against your lips; your heart was beating rapidly in your chest from the anticipation between the two of you. Your core felt hot from the excitement filling throughout your veins.

“Understood, baby.”

Tonight couldn’t get here fast enough.

notes: thanks for the request! send any requests, comments, etc to my inbox!

taglist:

@strangelife122 @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @matthewsturnsgf @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @xclusivedesires @mattsplaything @mattsbunnyxx @pair-of-pantaloons @chrissweetheart @slutformatt17 @sturnl0ve @pasteldreams @h3arts4harry @marrykisskilled @wh0remikasas @sturnzslut @camzeecorner @alesturniolos @emely9274 @2muchofaslvt @sturnslux3 @bowsandsturniolos @moustacherryismyhusband @rafesapprentice @ivysturnss @headzgonewest @il0vey0um0st @violetstxrniolo777 @bigbeefybitch @raesturns @courta13 @sofieeeeex @tylerthecreatorsglazr @kittyyyyykats @sturniszn @estellesdoll @freshsturnzx @ivyyyyyysposts @sturnberries @sturniolochrismatt @lovesturni0l0s

-nessa

[inseobts]

TRAITOR pt.1

law x traitor!reader

⤳ PART 2

words count: 2.5k

tags: series, enemies to lover(?), traitor reader

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“You know, you’re not as scary as you pretend to be.”

You lean against the railing of the Polar Tang, the ocean stretching endlessly in front of you. The salty breeze plays with your hair as you glance sideways at Trafalgar Law, whose arms are crossed, golden eyes watching you with something unreadable.

“And you talk too much” he mutters.

You grin “That’s a terrible thing to say to someone who just saved your life.”

Law exhales sharply through his nose, looking away. The recent battle had left him exhausted, and if it weren’t for you stepping in at the last second, things could’ve ended badly for him. You, of course, had taken full advantage of the situation, teasing him ever since.

“I didn’t need saving” he finally says, tone dry.

“Uh-huh.” You tilt your head “That’s why you looked like you were seconds away from getting skewered?”

He glares at you, but there’s no real heat behind it. If anything, there’s curiosity, like he’s still trying to figure you out. You’re a relatively new member of the Heart Pirates, joining just a few months ago. Skilled in combat, intelligent, and surprisingly resourceful, you had quickly earned the respect of the crew. Even Law, who rarely lets people close, had grown used to your presence.

And maybe, just maybe, something more than that.

It starts small.

Casual conversations late at night when neither of you can sleep. Accidental touches, like his hand brushing against yours when passing a scalpel in the infirmary, his shoulder knocking into yours when standing side by side on the deck. You tease him constantly, and though he pretends to be annoyed, you catch the way the corner of his lips twitch, like he’s holding back a smile.

Then, one evening, everything shifts.

“You’re staring” you say, raising an eyebrow.

Law, sitting across from you in his dimly lit office, doesn’t deny it. His gaze is steady, analytical, like he’s trying to see through you. It sends a strange thrill through your chest.

“You’re… different” he finally says.

You blink, caught off guard “Different how?”

“I don’t know yet.” His fingers tap against the wooden desk “But I intend to find out.”

There’s a weight to his words, a quiet intensity that makes your stomach twist. For a second, you almost feel guilty. Almost.

Because if he intends to figure you out, he’s already too late.

Then the first time he kisses you, it’s unexpected.

It happens after a fight, another skirmish with the Marines, another victory for the Heart Pirates. You’re both catching your breath in an alleyway, hidden from sight, when you turn to make some sarcastic remark, only for Law to suddenly grab your wrist and pull you against him.

His lips crash against yours, heated and desperate, like he’s been holding back for too long. And maybe he has.

You don’t hesitate. You kiss him back just as fiercely, fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him impossibly close. The world fades, the sounds of battle disappearing until there’s nothing but him, his warmth, his touch, the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless.

“That was… unexpected” you murmur.

Law smirks, thumb brushing against your lips “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

You laugh softly, leaning into him “Yeah, well. You’re full of surprises, Captain.”

What you don’t say is that he’s making this too easy.

Time passes, and the relationship deepens. Law isn’t the type to be openly affectionate, but you learn to read between the lines. The way he always makes sure you’re patched up first after battles, the way his fingers linger a little longer when he touches you. The way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You spend nights tangled together, whispered conversations in the dark. Sometimes, he tells you about his past, about Flevance, about Corazon, about the scars he carries that no one else can see. And you listen, pretending you’re not keeping secrets of your own.

Because this was never supposed to happen.

You were supposed to get close, gain his trust, gather information for them.

But now, with the way he looks at you, with trust, with something dangerously close to love, you start to wonder if you’ve let him get too close.

And if, when the time comes, you’ll be able to do what you were sent here to do.

You don’t realize how deep you’ve fallen until it’s too late.

It’s in the little things, how your heart beats just a little faster when Law smirks at you, how you find yourself looking for him in a room even when there’s no reason to. How you never pull away when his touch lingers longer than necessary.

You tell yourself it’s part of the act. That getting close to him is necessary, that earning his trust is just a step toward your real goal.

But then there are nights like this.

“You should sleep.”

Law’s voice is quiet, but firm. He’s leaning against the doorframe of the Polar Tang’s infirmary, arms crossed, watching you with a look that’s somewhere between amused and concerned.

You roll your eyes but don’t stop what you’re doing, patching up one of the crew’s minor wounds “I’ll sleep when I’m done.”

“You said that three hours ago.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow “And you’re one to talk? When was the last time you slept, Captain?”

Law sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose “That’s not the point.”

You smile, shaking your head as you finish tying off the bandage. When you straighten up, Law is still watching you. His expression has softened... just a little.

“What?” you ask.

“You take care of them.” His voice is quieter now, more thoughtful. “Like you’ve been here forever.”

Your breath catches.

Because that’s not true. You haven’t been here forever. You’re not one of them.

You force a grin, nudging his arm playfully “Well, someone has to. You’re a terrible doctor when it comes to yourself. So I help if it means you can rest”

Law scoffs, but there’s no real irritation behind it. Then, to your surprise, he reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist before curling around it. It’s a simple touch, but it makes your stomach flip.

“You’re overworking yourself,” he murmurs.

And maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the dim lighting, or the way his fingers feel warm against your skin—but you don’t pull away.

“Maybe,” you admit “But you worry too much.”

Law doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his thumb traces a slow circle against the inside of your wrist, sending a shiver up your spine.

“I can’t help it” he finally says.

The words are soft, almost like he didn’t mean to say them out loud.

And that’s when you realize, he’s not just saying it as your captain.

He’s saying it as himself. As Law.

As the man who, against all odds, has started to care for you.

It only gets worse from there.

You’re not sure when it happens, when you stop thinking of this as a mission and start thinking of it as home.

The Heart Pirates are chaotic, loud, and ridiculous. But they’re also kind. Loyal. They treat you like family. Like you belong.

And Law—

Law lets you see pieces of him that no one else does. The quiet moments, the rare, unguarded smiles. The way he lets his walls down, just enough, when it’s only the two of you.

And you know, deep down, that this is dangerous. That you shouldn’t be letting yourself feel this much.

But then there are nights when you’re lying next to him, tangled in warm sheets, his heartbeat steady beneath your palm. When he lets out a soft sigh and pulls you closer, half-asleep, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

And in those moments, it’s easy to forget.

To pretend this is real.

That you’re not a liar.

That you’re not here for all the wrong reasons.

But the truth is always waiting.

And one day, when he looks at you with nothing but trust in his eyes, you’ll have to tell him.

Or worse—he’ll find out on his own.

And when that day comes…

You don’t know if you’ll be able to handle the way he’ll look at you then.

Life on the Polar Tang has a rhythm. A steady, comforting chaos that you’ve come to know well.

Days are spent navigating treacherous waters, dodging Marines, and patching up injuries after yet another reckless skirmish. Nights, though, are when things slow down. When the crew unwinds, when laughter echoes through the submarine’s halls, when Law finally lets himself breathe.

It’s on one of these nights that you find yourself in the middle of a full-blown disaster.

“Bepo, put that down—”

A crash. A shout. Penguin howling with laughter as Shachi dives for cover.

The common area of the Polar Tang is in complete chaos. Empty plates and bowls are scattered across the table, remnants of what was supposed to be a peaceful dinner. Bepo is standing in the middle of it all, guilty and frozen, holding what used to be a perfectly intact chair. Now, it’s nothing but splintered wood and regret.

“I barely touched it!” Bepo insists, ears flattened against his head.

“You threw it,” Ikkaku deadpans.

“It was an accident!”

Shachi, still hiding behind the couch, snickers “I told you he doesn’t know his own strength.”

“You made him arm wrestle the table...” you point out, exasperated.

“Okay, but in my defense—”

“Room.”

The entire room freezes.

Law is standing in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. A slow, heavy silence settles over the crew. Bepo still has the broken chair in his hands. Shachi is half-hidden, looking like he’s about to bolt.

And then there’s you, sitting cross-legged on the couch, watching the disaster unfold with barely concealed amusement.

Law’s gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the mess, the guilty faces, the sheer absurdity of whatever just happened. He exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Do I even want to know?” he mutters.

“No,” you answer immediately “Definitely not.”

Law looks at you, unimpressed.

Penguin clears his throat “Uh, so, funny story—”

“No stories,” Law interrupts, already done with everyone’s nonsense. “Bepo, clean this up. The rest of you—figure out how to replace that chair. And if I hear one more crash tonight, I’m throwing all of you overboard.”

A collective groan echoes through the room, but no one dares argue.

As the crew reluctantly begins cleaning up, you watch Law turn to leave, only for him to hesitate, then glance at you. His brow furrows slightly, as if debating something. Then, after a moment, he jerks his head toward the door.

“Come with me.”

You blink “Uh, am I in trouble?”

His lips twitch, just barely “Not yet.”

You follow him to his quarters, where the air is quieter, calmer. Law shuts the door behind you, then leans against the desk, arms crossed.

“You looked entertained back there,” he remarks.

You smirk “Oh, I was. That was the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

Law shakes his head, exhaling through his nose “They’re impossible.”

“They’re yours.”

His gaze flickers to you, something unreadable in his expression. You don’t think much of your words, you meant them as a joke, nothing more.

But for a split second, something shifts.

You see it in the way his fingers tighten slightly against his arm. In the way his golden eyes linger on you, searching.

And for the first time, you wonder... does he think of you as his, too?

The thought is dangerous.

You push it aside, grinning instead “So, what do you need me for, Captain? Because if it’s paperwork, I—”

Law rolls his eyes before you can even finish “Shut up.”

And then, quicker than you expect, he reaches out, fingers curling around your wrist, tugging you forward. It’s not forceful, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, to send a rush of warmth through you.

His hands are always cold, but his touch is steady. Solid.

“Stay here” he murmurs.

You don’t answer right away. Because you know that if you stay now, it’ll only get harder to leave later.

But when he looks at you like that... like he’s choosing you, again and again.

You can’t bring yourself to say no.

You don’t pull away.

Law’s fingers are still wrapped around your wrist, his touch firm but not forceful. You’re close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, the quiet hum of the submarine around you.

He doesn’t say anything else—just watches you, waiting.

You swallow “You’re being weird.”

His brow twitches “You’re the one staring at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re debating something.”

Your heart skips a beat.

Because, of course, you are.

You’ve been debating it for weeks now, maybe even months. How much of this is real? How much of this is an act? And most terrifying of all... are you the one being played?

Because the way Law looks at you sometimes, with quiet intensity, with something dangerously close to trust, it makes you feel like a terrible person.

And yet, here you are, standing in his quarters, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist, not moving away.

“I was just thinking,” you say finally, keeping your voice light “That you’re kind of clingy.”

Law scoffs and immediately drops your wrist “Forget it. Get out.”

You laugh, catching his hand before he can fully pull away. His eyes snap to yours, slightly surprised, but he doesn’t stop you when you lace your fingers together.

“I’m joking,” you murmur, voice softer now “I don’t mind.”

Law exhales slowly, like he’s trying to decide whether or not you’re messing with him again.

“…You’re exhausting,” he mutters.

“You like it.”

“I tolerate it.”

You smirk “Same thing.”

His lips twitch, just barely, before he tugs on your hand, pulling you toward the bed. You go without resistance, letting him sit on the edge while you stand between his knees, still holding his hand.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then, quietly, he says, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself, you know.”

The words hit you harder than they should.

You blink “What?”

“You act like you have something to prove,” he says, tilting his head slightly “Like you need to earn your place here. But you already have.”

Your stomach twists.

Because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that this entire thing is a lie, that you shouldn’t have a place here, that—

“Hey.” His voice is softer now. His free hand reaches up, fingertips barely brushing your hip “Did I say something wrong?”

You force a laugh, shaking your head “No, no. Just surprised you’re saying something nice for once.”

Law rolls his eyes, but there’s no real annoyance there.

“I say nice things,” he mutters.

You smirk “Name three.”

He pauses.

Then, after a moment, he says, “You’re competent.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“You’re reliable.”

“Still sounds like a job review.”

He sighs, giving you a dry look “You’re annoying, but I don’t hate it.”

Your smirk widens “Aww, Captain. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He huffs, but his hand tightens slightly around yours, thumb brushing against your knuckles.

You don’t know what you’re doing anymore.

You don’t know if this is still part of the plan, or if you’re just falling into something you can’t escape from.

But for now, in this quiet space, with his fingers laced with yours and his golden eyes watching you like you matter...

You let yourself pretend.

Just a little longer.

[aspenmissing]

Jayce x Reader experience their first times in a relationship, like: Their first kiss / the first time saying "I love you" / The first time telling someone, that they're in a relationship / Etc.

With much fluff and comfort 🫶

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 3505 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ��: ʙʀɪᴇꜰ ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ!! ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛᴇꜱᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀ! (ɪ ᴍᴀʏ ᴏʀ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ) ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!!!

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

FIRST DATE

Jayce had insisted on something simple. No extravagant dinners, no fancy galas—just the two of them, somewhere quiet.

So, they ended up on the rooftop of one of Piltover’s tallest buildings, a picnic laid out between them. The city glittered below, its golden lights stretching out in all directions, while above them, the stars flickered faintly against the vast night sky. The wind carried the distant hum of airships and the occasional burst of laughter from the streets far below, but up here, it was just them.

“This is nice,” Y/N admitted, leaning back on her hands, letting the cool evening air kiss her skin.

Jayce chuckled. “You sound surprised.”

She tilted her head. “I just expected something… grander. This is surprisingly thoughtful.”

He scoffed, nudging her with his knee. “I can be thoughtful, you know.”

She smirked. “I’m just saying, Councilman.”

Jayce rolled his eyes but grinned anyway. He watched her for a moment, something soft and unreadable in his gaze before he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary. “I just wanted to spend time with you. No distractions. No responsibilities.”

Y/N felt her heart stutter, a warmth creeping into her chest that had nothing to do with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. It wasn’t like this was their first time alone together, but somehow, this was different. More deliberate. More real.

“Well,” she murmured, a small smile playing at her lips, “mission accomplished.”

Jayce exhaled, something like relief flickering across his face before he leaned back on his elbows, staring up at the stars. “You know, when I was a kid, I used to think the city lights were brighter than the stars. That they were better somehow.”

Y/N turned her head to him, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “And now?”

He was quiet for a beat before glancing at her, his warm brown eyes reflecting the sky. “Now, I think they don’t even come close.”

She swallowed, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her sleeve.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city hummed beneath them, a world of expectations and duty waiting below, but up here, it didn’t matter. Up here, they could just be Jayce and Y/N, two people caught somewhere between what was and what could be.

Jayce shifted closer, his shoulder brushing against hers, and she found she didn’t mind the closeness. In fact, she welcomed it.

Maybe this thing between them was still new, still uncertain.

But in this moment, under the starlit sky, it felt like the start of something neither of them would ever want to forget.

FIRST "I LOVE YOU"

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t grand. It just… happened.

Jayce was hunched over his desk, deep in thought, his brow furrowed as he muttered under his breath. The dim glow of the lamp cast warm shadows across his face, highlighting the exhaustion clinging to his features. He had been at it for hours, tools scattered haphazardly around him, notes filled with scribbled equations stacked precariously to one side.

Y/N, watching from the doorway, sighed softly. She knew how he got like this—wrapped up in his work, pushing himself past reason. Without a word, she stepped forward and set a warm cup of tea beside him.

Jayce glanced up at the quiet gesture, his tired eyes immediately softening at the sight of her. He reached for the cup, fingers curling around the warmth, and let out a slow breath.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmured, the words slipping out so naturally, so effortlessly, that he barely noticed them. Then, without a second thought—“Love you.”

The pen in Y/N’s hand nearly snapped in half.

Jayce blinked, suddenly registering what he had just said. The gears in his head ground to a halt, panic flickering across his face. His grip on the cup tightened.

“Uh—”

“I love you too.”

Silence.

Thick and brimming with something unspoken, something fragile yet overwhelming. The weight of those three little words lingered between them, hanging in the air like static before a storm.

Jayce stared at her, stunned, before his lips parted, his expression shifting from shock to something softer—something so utterly full of warmth it made her chest ache.

Then, he smiled.

Not his usual confident grin, not the smirk he wore in the Council chambers or the easy one he flashed in passing. No, this was different. It was wide and bright, filled with something raw and real, and it made Y/N’s heart stutter in her chest.

“Yeah?” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, like he needed to hear her say it again.

She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah.”

Jayce exhaled, relief and happiness flooding his features, and in the next second, he was pulling her into his arms, burying his face in her shoulder. His body was warm, solid, his embrace something that felt like home.

“You just… said it,” she mumbled against his shoulder, half in disbelief, half in awe.

He huffed a laugh. “You did too.”

Y/N smiled, closing her eyes, breathing him in. Maybe it hadn’t been planned, maybe it hadn’t been some grand declaration—but maybe, just maybe, this was better.

Because it was them. And it was real.

FIRST KISS

It happened during one of their late-night walks through Piltover’s upper districts. The streets were quieter at this hour, the usual bustle of the city dimmed to a peaceful hum. Gas lamps lined the walkways, casting a golden glow over the cobblestone streets, and the crisp night air carried the faint scent of metal and oil from the distant workshops.

Jayce had been rambling about something—an experiment gone wrong, a prototype behaving unpredictably—but exhaustion clung to his voice, slowing his usual enthusiasm. Y/N had been content to listen, enjoying the rhythmic sound of his voice, until he nearly tripped over his own feet mid-step.

She caught his arm instinctively, steadying him before raising a smug eyebrow. “Wow. I knew you were tired, but this is a new level of tragic.”

Jayce groaned, rubbing his face before shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. “Unfair. How do you look perfectly composed while I’m out here fighting for my life?”

Y/N smirked. “Maybe you’re just a mess.”

He huffed, kicking at a loose stone on the path. “Or maybe you always look flawless. It’s annoying.”

She snorted. “Flawless? High praise, Councilman.”

“I mean it.”

The weight in his voice made her pause. She turned to him fully, expecting to throw out another teasing remark, but the way he was looking at her made the words tangle in her throat.

Jayce was not a subtle man. He never had been. When he wanted something, he made it clear, whether it was a new invention, a seat on the Council, or—apparently—her.

His gaze was steady, unwavering, the usual playfulness in his expression giving way to something softer, something almost hesitant.

“Can I kiss you?”

Y/N blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before rolling her eyes. “You’re asking now?”

“Hey,” he said, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips, “I like to be respectful.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You—”

But before she could finish, he closed the space between them.

His lips met hers, warm and eager, a little clumsy in the way first kisses often were. It wasn’t perfectly timed, nor was it practiced—but it was real. His hands hovered at her waist, unsure, as if he didn’t want to push too far, but the way he leaned into her, the way he let out the faintest sigh against her lips, told her everything she needed to know.

Y/N melted into him without thinking, her fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. The city faded away—the distant sound of an airship passing overhead, the occasional flicker of street lamps, the world beyond this moment.

When they finally broke apart, Jayce’s breath was warm against her lips, his grin widening as he searched her face. “So… was that okay?”

Y/N let out a breathless laugh. “You’re such an idiot.”

He chuckled, his hands finding hers, lacing their fingers together with an ease that made her chest tighten. “Yeah, yeah. But I’m your idiot now.”

And with the city glittering around them, their world just a little bit smaller, Y/N found she didn’t mind one bit.

FIRST TIME TELLING SOMEONE

Viktor was the first to know.

It wasn’t that they had planned to tell him first—he was just too damn observant.

Jayce was hunched over his desk, fidgeting with a prototype, but he wasn’t really paying attention to it. His fingers idly twisted a bolt between his thumb and forefinger, his focus entirely elsewhere. Across the lab, Y/N was sorting through notes, flipping through pages and occasionally tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear.

She probably didn’t even realize she was doing it, but Jayce did.

He noticed the way she bit her lip in concentration, the way her brows furrowed ever so slightly when she came across something particularly dense. He could watch her for hours and never get bored.

And apparently, he had been watching her for too long.

Viktor sighed loudly and set down his notes with an air of exasperation.

“So,” he drawled, tapping a finger on the table, “how long have you two been together?”

Jayce choked on his coffee.

Y/N, still flipping through papers, arched a brow. “What makes you think we’re—”

Viktor shot her a flat look. “Please. The way he watches you like a lovesick puppy, the way you pretend not to care when he does something reckless? You are not as discreet as you think.”

Jayce wiped his mouth, still sputtering. “I—what? That’s not—I don’t—”

Y/N smirked, folding her arms. “Lovesick puppy, huh?”

Viktor tilted his head, unimpressed. “Tell me, Jayce, when was the last time you looked at research notes with that much longing?”

Jayce spluttered, gripping his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. “That is not—You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Viktor snorted. “Oh, of course. I must be imagining things.” He turned to Y/N. “And you? The lingering glances? The way you subtly guide him away from his own worst decisions?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Completely unrelated, I’m sure.”

Y/N pursed her lips, feigning thoughtfulness. “Well… maybe he has a point.”

Jayce shot her a betrayed look. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged. “You are reckless. Someone has to keep you alive.”

“I am perfectly capable of keeping myself alive.”

Viktor scoffed. “Debatable.”

Jayce groaned, setting his coffee down. “Okay, fine. Yes. We’re together. It’s recent, alright?”

Viktor leaned back, smirking. “Congratulations.” Then, with an entirely too smug expression, he added, “Try not to be insufferable.”

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Too late for that.”

Y/N grinned, nudging his side. “You’re the one who kept staring at me.”

Viktor hummed, already returning to his notes. “Yes, do keep up the public displays of affection. It will make my work so much more enjoyable.”

Jayce sighed, rubbing his temples. “I hate both of you.”

Y/N chuckled. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

Viktor, flipping a page, didn’t even look up. “Yes, yes. Very cute. Now go be disgusting somewhere else.”

Jayce groaned, but when Y/N grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze, he found that, honestly?

He didn’t mind one bit.

FIRST ARGUMENT

It started with frustration and ended in regret.

Jayce had been spending too much time in the Council chambers, drowning in politics, buried under the weight of expectations. The man who once spent his days in the lab, grease-stained and full of boundless ideas, was now tethered to long meetings and diplomatic battles. Y/N felt the shift like a slow-moving storm, creeping in until the space between them wasn’t just physical—it was something heavier, something unspoken.

She wasn’t one for confrontation. She wasn’t the type to demand attention, to force someone to make space for her. But when Jayce cancelled yet another evening together with a half-hearted I’ll make it up to you, something inside her snapped.

“You’re always busy, Jayce. I get it. But when do I become a priority?”

Jayce, still shuffling through papers on his desk, let out a sharp sigh. He didn’t even look at her. “Y/N, come on. Not now.”

Her stomach twisted. Not now. It was always not now.

She crossed her arms, refusing to let this go. “Then when?” Her voice rose, her frustration bubbling over. “Because I’ve been waiting. And waiting. And every time I think we’ll finally get time together, you have another meeting, another crisis, another—whatever the hell this is!” She gestured to the Council reports strewn across his desk, the documents that had replaced her.

Jayce dragged a hand down his face, his own patience fraying at the edges. “I’m trying to build something here, Y/N. A future. For both of us. Do you not understand that?”

Something in her cracked.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Don’t make this about me not understanding. This is about you not making time. For me. For us.”

His shoulders stiffened. He finally met her gaze, frustration flashing in his eyes. “I don’t have the luxury of making time whenever I want, Y/N. I have responsibilities! The Council, Piltover—”

She let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, of course. Piltover.” She threw up her hands. “How stupid of me to think I could compete with an entire city.”

His brows furrowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But that’s what it feels like, Jayce!” Her voice cracked, raw with emotion. “You fight for this city like it’s the only thing that matters, and I get it, I do, but when was the last time you fought for us?”

Jayce exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of his desk as if grounding himself. His jaw tightened. “I’m doing everything I can.” His voice was quieter, but still taut with frustration. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Then don’t make me feel like I have to!” She shouted, her own breath uneven, her heart hammering in her chest.

The words slammed between them like a force of their own, vibrating in the air.

For the first time, Jayce didn’t have an immediate retort. He just stared at her—at the hurt in her eyes, the way her hands trembled slightly, how she was barely keeping herself together.

The weight of it all crashed into him at once.

The exhaustion, the guilt, the fear of losing her.

His hands curled into fists, his breath unsteady. Then, with a deep inhale, he let go of whatever pride had been holding him back.

He took a step forward.

Y/N tensed, expecting more words, another excuse. But instead, she felt his arms wrap around her, his warmth pressing against her like an apology he didn’t know how to say.

Her breath hitched.

“I’ll do better,” he whispered against her temple, voice rough, like he was barely holding himself together. “I promise.”

She wanted to stay angry. Wanted to tell him that promises were easy to make and even easier to break. But as his arms tightened around her, as she felt the way his body sagged slightly, like he needed this just as much as she did, she let out a slow breath.

“…Okay,” she murmured, leaning into him. Then, after a beat, she added, “But you owe me dinner. A real one. No cancellations.”

Jayce let out a soft chuckle against her hair, his hold on her tightening just a little. “Deal.”

He held her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded, and in that moment, she believed him.

Because if there was one thing Jayce had always been, it was someone who tried.

FIRST TIME SLEEPING TOGETHER

They didn’t plan on it.

Jayce had invited Y/N over after a long day, swearing up and down that this time, he wouldn’t get caught up in work, that this time, he’d make time for her. And he tried—he really did.

They ordered food, talked between bites, let the warmth of each other’s presence ease the weight of the day. Laughter came easily between them, the kind that settled deep in their bones, smoothing over the exhaustion clinging to their bodies. Y/N listened as Jayce vented about the latest Council debates, his voice animated despite the tired lines beneath his eyes. She offered teasing quips, grounding him, making him forget about the weight on his shoulders for a little while.

The conversation drifted into quieter things. Their childhoods, their dreams, the parts of themselves that rarely got the chance to breathe.

And then, somewhere between the warmth of the fireplace and the steady comfort of being near each other, exhaustion crept in like a slow tide, pulling them under before they even realized it.

Y/N curled into his side without a second thought, resting her head against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Jayce, for once, didn’t overthink things—didn’t worry about meetings, expectations, or anything beyond the steady warmth of her against him.

His arm draped around her shoulders, pulling her closer, his fingers idly tracing slow, absentminded circles against her back. She barely registered the touch, but something about it lulled her deeper into rest.

Neither of them noticed when their conversation faded into comfortable silence.

Neither of them noticed when their blinks became longer, breaths slowing in sync.

And neither of them noticed when sleep claimed them completely.

=

The morning light streamed in through the wide windows, golden rays stretching across the floorboards and casting a warm glow over the room. The fireplace had long since burned down, leaving only the faintest hint of lingering heat in the air. The city outside was already stirring, but here, in the quiet of Jayce’s home, time moved slower.

Y/N stirred, the weight of sleep still clinging to her limbs, and as she shifted, she became acutely aware of how warm and solid the body beside her was.

Her eyes cracked open, and realization set in.

She was completely tangled up in Jayce—his arm curled protectively around her waist, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath her cheek. One of her legs was slotted between his, and his other hand rested lightly on her hip, as if even in sleep, he refused to let her drift too far away.

For a brief moment, she simply existed there, letting herself savor the warmth of him, the way his body fit against hers so naturally.

It was easy. Too easy.

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze settling on his face—soft, unguarded in sleep, his normally furrowed brow relaxed, his lips parted just slightly. His hair was a mess, strands sticking up in a way that made him look boyish, and she felt something stir in her chest at the sight.

He always looked so much younger like this. Like the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on his shoulders for once.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

She should probably get up. Should probably untangle herself from his arms, make some coffee, pretend like this wasn’t something that made her chest feel too full.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she shifted just enough to tuck herself closer, burying her face against his collarbone with a quiet sigh.

Jayce groaned slightly in his sleep, shifting before his hold on her instinctively tightened. His body curled in toward her, his breath ghosting against her temple. A deep inhale, then a lazy mumble:

“Mmm… five more minutes.”

Y/N smirked, her voice still heavy with sleep. “I wasn’t even trying to move.”

Jayce cracked one eye open, blinking at her with unfocused, sleep-drunk hazel eyes. His grip on her didn’t loosen, and if anything, he only curled around her more. “…Good.” He let his eyes fall shut again, pressing his face into her hair. “Stay.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. He probably didn’t even realize what he was saying, caught in that half-awake state where thoughts and feelings blurred together without pretence.

But she liked the way it sounded.

“You talk in your sleep a lot, don’t you?” she teased, her voice quieter now, more thoughtful.

Jayce hummed, lips twitching into a lazy smirk. “Only when I’m dreaming about my amazing girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes, but the fondness in them betrayed her. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” His arm flexed around her, pulling her impossibly closer, his lips brushing against her temple. “Though I gotta say… this is even better than the dream.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, shaking her head slightly as she let herself settle against him once more.

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in warmth, in golden morning light, in something that felt almost too good to be real.

But it was real. And it was theirs.

Yeah.

She could get used to this.

[flowery-mess]

nowhere to go

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / physical violence / punching / knife threat / blood, bruises and other injuries / harassment / I think that's it, let me know if there's anything else

Words: 3,1k

Author's note: grab your tissues everyone. So far the hardest one I wrote for frat Noah❤️‍🩹

frat boy Noah masterlist

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Thanks for coming man, next time we should start earlier.” Matt said to Noah as he watched him put his shoes and jacket on.

“Yeah, I hate doing projects at the last minute.” him and Matt had a project for a finance class together, they wanted to work on it on the weekend, but Matt’s plans had changed and he needed to finish it on Friday night before he left to see his parents.

“Sorry again man, will never happen again.” Matt apologized one more time, him and Noah did their weird handshake and then Noah left.

It was Friday night, but most of the students were back home at their parents, so there was no party that night.

Noah crossed the main area of the college campus to finally get in his car, do some grocery shopping and go home. He was more than ready to eat some frozen pizza, take a shower and then go to bed.

Due to the spring break the parking lot was weirdly empty, aside from Noah’s black car there were just a few more. He didn’t pay any attention to those other cars, didn’t feel like he needed to.

When his body slid behind the steering wheel, he let out a deep groan. His back hurt from sitting on Matt’s bed the whole day and his brain was tired from all the thinking he had to do to finish the project. He let his head rest for a while, closing his eyes, but he knew if he let himself doze off he’s going to wake in the morning and that was painful to imagine.

He started the engine and made his way to the closest grocery store that wasn’t closed yet. The streets were mostly empty, probably due to the area usually being full of students. It was 10PM already, so he had to drive a bit far for his liking.

His radio was on, but he didn’t really pay any attention to the songs, he was focused on the road.

He checked his rear mirror before he changed lines and noticed only one red car behind him. His attention was back on the road, cursing himself for not using GPS, because he didn’t recognise this part of town.

He turned left, then right and was expecting the shop to already be in sight, but he could swear he got lost and was again on the same main street, changing lines again. Before he did he checked his rear mirror again, noticing the same red car still behind him. He didn’t think much of it, maybe they got lost too.

Taking a few more turns he finally saw the lights “open 24/7”, only one traffic light between him and his target. When he stopped and the red light he looked back in the mirror, nothing else to look at with the empty streets. He noticed two men sitting in the red car, talking and waiting for the light to turn green just like him. When it did, Noah started driving again, not looking back in the mirror or at the red car anymore.

He took the closest parking spot to the shop, took his wallet and left the car. The street was silent, you could only hear cars from a far.

There were two homeless men in front of the shop who didn’t waste any time asking Noah for money. He gave them some change he had in his back pockets and thought of buying them some beer for a minute.

“Hello sir.” the older cashier welcomed Noah with a smile on her face, he did the same and grabbed a cart to start his short shopping list.

Frozen pizza, eggs, bread and milk. Things for dinner and breakfast before he can go to his regular shop to do bigger weekly shopping.

The nice lady packed him the small purchase in a bag, making small talk while doing so. She looked like the type of a woman who lives alone and has a part time job to socialize and talk with people. Noah didn't mind, because he knew how spending time alone can be, so he nodded along and occasionally gave her some answer.

He wished her a safe shift and made his way back to his car. When he reached for his keys he noticed two people next to his black Range Rover. He stopped walking and scanned the parking lot. He noticed the red car still there, but left empty with no passengers.

He really wanted to go home, so he decided to just go and not think twice about it.

“Hey, can I help you?” he asked the two men he saw in his mirror earlier at the red light.

One of them had a cigarette in his hand, the smell hit Noah’s nose immediately. The other one looked at Noah and his face turned into a satisfied smirk.

“Actually yes. You’re Noah right?” the man made a step towards Noah who started feeling uneasy in their company. How the fuck did he knew his name?

“Who are you?” Noah tried to stay calm, maybe it was a misunderstanding.

“Your daddy says you owe us some money.” and then it hit him. I’ll tell them to go after you. His father’s words replayed in his head and he didn’t know what to do.

“He’s not my father, whatever he told you is a lie. I don’t know what he did or why he owes the money, fuck I don’t even know how much money it is! He’s a stranger to me.”

“That’s not what he told us. He owes us money and he told us you’ll pay. We don’t care about your sad story, we want the money and we don’t care how we’ll get it.”

“How much?”

“800 dollars.” Fuck, Noah thought. He expected more, but it was still a lot of money.

“Yeah I don’t have that, so go ask him again.” Noah thought he made it clear, but before he could unlock his car and leave, fist landed on his face. His bag of groceries fell on the ground and his hand immediately went to touch his nose. He tasted blood in his mouth.

“Listen you son of a bitch, you either give us some money or it will not end well for you.” the man pushed him on the side of his own car and his disgusting hands made it around Noah’s throat. He didn’t choke him, but added a fair amount of pressure to make breathing harder for Noah.

“I don’t have the money.” Noah whispered as loud as he could. Another punch followed, this time to his abdomen. Two against one, that couldn’t end well for him. One of them continued holding Noah by his neck while the other was ready to land another fist.

“He said you’ll pay.” of course he said that, father of the year.

Before Noah could argue with him, he felt those hands move from his neck to his shoulders, pulling him down and then knee of the stranger in his face. He gasped for air and saw blood dripping on the concrete under him. He was fucked. Who’s going to help him? That sweet lady from the shop or those two homeless guys? Sure not.

He stood back up, ready to face another hit to wherever they felt good next. He didn’t fight back, that was pointless.

Another punch, this time next to his eye, slitting his eyebrow. He hissed in pain, not sure he could take any more before colapsing on the ground under his feet.

Blood started dripping down his face, blurring his vision in his left eye. He was tired. Tired from all this beating, tired from his father’s actions.

“Do you need more or will you give us the money?” that man yelled in Noah’s face.

He understood him in a way. That man helped his father out in some way, either with drugs, alcohol or actual money and just wanted it back. The thing is, people like his father will never give the money back and that’s something people like those two strangers should know.

Noah’s mind was thinking of how he could escape this situation, but before he could think of something, he heard the sound of opening a pocket knife. The other man put the knife to Noah’s jaw and started running the blade across his cheek.

“I’ll give you everything I have on me, okay?” Noah blurted out in a rush, scared of where this would go if he let them continue.

“Now that’s something I like to hear.” the stranger said happily.

Noah took out his wallet and took out all of his cash and handed it to them. He didn’t know how much it was, but prayed to God that it was enough for him to get rid of them.

“That’s only 200 dollars.” they told him after they counted the money.

“I don’t have any more.”

He saw them look at each other, like they were silently communicating with their minds.

“Listen, we know how stuff like this works and we also know your dad is a piece of shit. We’ll take this and take care of the rest in our way. With your father, not you. But tell your old man this is his warning and he better have the money next time we see him, or he can say his goodbye to you.” Noah didn’t know how to answer that so he just kept staring at them, waiting for their next move.

When they scanned his body, obviously satisfied with the damage they'd done, they turned around, got in their car and left the parking lot.

Noah couldn’t move, he was leaning against his car and trying to stabilize his breathing.

“Are you alright?” he heard another voice and when he turned his head he saw one of the homeless men standing close to his car. He didn’t have the energy to answer, he just opened his car, started the engine and took off.

He didn’t drive in the direction of his apartment, he went back to the campus. His drive was messy and he was glad there were no other cars, because he was sure his driving would’ve caused an accident.

He sat in the parking lot for a good hour, thinking of what to do. His head was hurting and the blood finally stopped running down his face a few minutes ago. It was tears running down his cheeks now, mixing with the dried blood he could taste in his mouth.

He gave up punching the steering wheel or tugging at his hair, the physical pain couldn’t stop the hurt he felt in his heart.

Instead the car was filled with sobs and cries from a boy who just wanted peace in his life. He was better off alone, he just wanted his devil of a father out of his life.

His body worked on autopilot when he got out of his car and started walking in the direction of your dorm. He was glad no one could see him, beaten up with blood all over him. He couldn’t look in the mirror so he took the stairs instead of an elevator.

When he reached your floor he saw the big old clock on the wall and saw it was just a bit after midnight. You’re probably asleep, he should go home, he thought. He actually ran down the stairs just to turn around on the ground floor and run up again. He couldn’t be alone.

—

“Yes mom, I’ll come visit you next month, I’m just busy with school work so I wanted to stay here.” you were on the phone with your mom who just finished her glass of wine and decided it was “I miss my daughter hours.” and called you. You were two hours ahead of her, so it wasn’t unusual for her to call you this late.

“I just saw Jake come home today and felt sad that you decided to stay.” Jake was your neighbour who grew up across the road.

“I know mom, but I’ll come soon. Okay?” you didn’t hear her answer, because there was a loud knock on your door. You checked the time on your phone and furrowed your brows, who could be knocking at your door at midnight. “Wait mom.” you told her and walked to open your door.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight when you opened your door. There was Noah, covered in blood with red eyes, looking like he would collapse every second.

“I have to go mom, I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye.” you hung up on her before she could say bye, but you didn’t care.

“Noah what the fuck?” you continued to stare at him, not sure what to do. “What the hell happened?” you whispered.

“I, I-” he couldn’t finish what he wanted to say, his words got lost between his sobs and quick breathing.

“Come inside.” you pulled him in by his hand and he immediately went to wrap his arms around you, and you let him.

You continued standing there with crying Noah in your arms. You gave him all the time he needed to calm down. When you felt his breath slow down a little, you pulled away from him to look at the mess his face was.

“Oh God Noah, who did this to you?” looking at him was painful. When he didn’t answer you led him in your bathroom and sat him on the closed toilet.

“I’m gonna clean you up, okay? You don’t have to say anything until you want to, yeah?” you cupped his face in your hands to make sure he heard you. He gave you only a small nod.

You took a small towel and dipped it into warm water, then took Noah’s face in one of your hands and held the towel in the other one. You slowly and gently wiped all the dried blood from his face. Then you sprayed the disinfection on white cotton pads and said “This is gonna sting.” As you dabbed the pad over the cuts on Noah’s eyebrow and then around his bloody nose, you couldn’t miss the tears forming in his eyes again, then slowly cascading down his cheeks. You tried to wipe them all with your fingers, but there were too many of them.

You put a small butterfly plaster on his eyebrow, but that was all you could do. The rest of his face started to bruise and swell already, you noted to get him something frozen later when you’re done.

“All done.” you grabbed his chin and made him look up at you and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” you asked, not sure if you wanted to know the answer.

Instead of answering you, Noah took off his t-shirt and you saw a red bruise on his abdomen. You had to calm yourself down so you wouldn’t swear again.

There wasn’t much you could do with that one, so you at least sprayed some disinfection on it.

“Do you want to take a shower?” you then asked Noah who still hasn’t said a word. He was communicating only in nods, but you didn’t mind.

“Here’s a towel, you can leave your clothes here, I’ll wash it for you. Call me if you need anything else, I’ll wait in my room.” you wanted to give him space and privacy, but when you turned to walk out of the small bathroom of yours, he reached for your hand and stopped you.

“Stay.” he finally spoke, it was more of a question, a plea.

You got in the shower with him, taking care of him again. You used your shampoo on his bruised body, being careful with your touch to not hurt him any more. You wanted to wash all of his pain away, if only it was possible.

You let him hug you again, only to hear his silent cries again. You had to hold your own tears at this point. Who did this to him?

After the shower you sat Noah in your bed and gave him a pack of frozen peas to stop the swelling of his pretty face.

You sat next to him, not sure what to do now. “Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked him.

There was a silence before he took a breath and started talking.

“He actually sent someone to beat me up and get money from me.” he muttered under his breath, “Who does that to their own kid?” his breath got caught in his throat, before he let out another sob. You immediately knew what he was talking about. His father was always full of promises he never managed to keep, so after that accident you both didn’t take his words seriously. What a mistake.

You laid both of you down on your bed, not big enough for both of you, but you managed. You held him and gave him time to process what he wanted to tell you.

“They followed me from here after I left Matt’s place, then they waited for me in front of a fucking grocery store. He owes them 800 dollars and sent them to get it from me. They beat me up and then pulled out a knife, so I gave them all the cash I had with me.” at the mention of the knife you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying what was on your mind. You were thankful he got to you in one piece.

“They told me he’s a piece of shit and that beating me up was a warning for him. Only if they knew he doesn’t give a fuck about what they did to me. They said they’ll finish it with him, so I hope I’ll never see their fucking faces again.”

“That’s not okay Noah, they can’t do that.”

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?” he sat up to look at you, despair in his eyes. “What do you want me to do? Call the cops? Call him?”

“I don’t know.” you admitted. You wanted to get him out of this situation, but didn’t have a clue on how to do it.

He laid back down and continued talking after a while. “I’m gonna change my number. I was thinking about moving too. He knows where I live, I’ll never get rid of him.”

“Yeah, we can think of something tomorrow.” those weren’t bad ideas, it could help to cut his father off completely. “I’m glad you came here, hate the idea of you being alone in this state.” you admitted and planted few more kisses to his forehead and in his hair.

He laid in your arms, occasionally letting out a hiss when your fingers slid too close to his bruised face.

You felt his body grow heavier and heavier with sleep taking over him. His cries finally calmed down and his breathing became even.

“Thank you.” he whispered in the crook of your neck.

“You don’t have to thank me.” you whispered back. You thought of all the nights when he held you, because you needed it.

You held him until he fell asleep, preparing yourself for round 2 in the morning when the pain of his injuries will become worse.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

Taglist: @lacy1986 @concretejunglefm @super-btstrash-posts @amelia-acero @justcarrie @koskeepsake @chey-h @xmads-omensx @blade-dressed-in-red @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrscevans @blvckmvgicwoman @punkprincess1999 @fear-its-beauty @bloody-spades @n0n3xsisting @thenmaybehellaintsobadafterall @athenexe @tashka @badomensls

If you want to be on my taglist click here

[airandyeah]

Animals (Alpha!Sukuna X Alpha!Toji X Omega!Reader) Pt.2

My Masterlist Series Masterlist Warnings: Obvious A/B/O dynamics, suggestive comments or actions, just generally Minors DNI-just in case. This will be similar to Pink Pony Club and Sins, where I just mark every chapter as 18+

The tow truck rumbled down the road, the weight of your car dragging behind it. Sitting in the cab between Sukuna and Toji was not how you imagined spending your morning, but here you were—arms crossed, jaw tight, and very aware of the warmth radiating from either side of you.

The ride was quiet for a while, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional creak of the tow hitch. You hoped it would stay that way.

Of course, that was wishful thinking.

"So," Toji drawled, one hand on the wheel as he glanced at you, "what’s a stubborn little Omega like you doing all the way out here?"

You sighed, staring out the window. "Just needed a break."

Sukuna scoffed. "From what? Civilization?"

You rolled your eyes. "Something like that."

"How long you staying?"

You hesitated. You had an answer, but something about saying it out loud felt… final.

"A while," you finally muttered.

Sukuna hummed, watching you from the corner of his eye. "So, not just a weekend getaway, huh?"

You shrugged, giving them as little as possible. The last thing you wanted was for them to know too much.

Toji smirked. "Didn’t peg you for the type to play mysterious, sweetheart."

You scoffed. "Maybe I just don’t feel like answering your questions."

Sukuna laughed, head tilting back slightly. "That’s cute. You think you’ve got a choice."

You turned to glare at him, but before you could snap back, Toji cut in. "You staying alone?"

Your lips pressed together, pulse kicking up just a bit. The way he asked—so casual, yet so pointed—made it clear they were reading between the lines.

"Yeah," you said finally. "I am."

Sukuna clicked his tongue. "Kinda dangerous, don’t you think? An Omega alone in the woods?"

You gave him a look. "I can handle myself."

"Sure." His smirk deepened, voice dipping into something amused and interested. "Bet you can."

You rolled your eyes, shifting in your seat. "Just focus on getting my car to town."

Toji chuckled but didn’t push.

For now.

And as the truck rumbled on, carrying you further into whatever mess you’d somehow walked into with these two, you had the sinking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time they pried into your business.

You hopped down from the truck, arms crossed as you watched Sukuna and Toji get to work. The moment they started pushing your car into the shop, you really wished you hadn’t.

Because, fuck.

Their muscles strained under the weight, arms flexing, shirts stretching over broad chests as they made easy work of moving the dead weight of your car. Toji’s biceps bulged, veins running down his forearms as he grunted, shoving the car into position. Sukuna, smirking as always, made it look effortless, a cocky little gleam in his eye as he caught you staring.

Your Omega instincts purred in appreciation, a hot pulse settling low in your stomach.

You forced yourself to look away, clearing your throat as if that would help shove the feeling down. Absolutely not. You were not about to let your biology win here.

“Enjoying the view?” Sukuna drawled, brushing his hands off as he turned to you.

You scowled. “Not particularly.”

Toji chuckled, wiping his forearm across his brow. “Lyin’ won’t get you anywhere, sweetheart.”

You crossed your arms tighter, nails digging into your sleeves. “Just let me know when my car’s fixed.”

Sukuna tsked, shaking his head. “So cold. You’re stuck here for a while, Omega. Might as well warm up to us.”

You scoffed. “I’d rather freeze.”

Toji grinned, leaning against your car with a lazy ease that did not help your predicament. “Suit yourself. Just don’t expect us to stop being friendly.”

Sukuna stepped closer, not enough to crowd you, but enough to make you feel watched. “Yeah. We’ve got plenty of time to get to know each other.” ~~~ You had not planned on leaving the house today.

In fact, you had every intention of staying curled up inside, away from a certain pair of smug, infuriating Alphas who thought they were the greatest thing to walk the earth.

But the sound of tires crunching over gravel outside shattered that plan instantly.

Frowning, you shoved open the cabin door, stepping out onto the porch—pajamas still on, hair an absolute mess, and a mug of coffee clutched in your hands. You had not prepared to see anyone, and you definitely had not prepared to see them.

Because there they were.

Toji leaned against the side of his truck, arms crossed, eyes immediately trailing over you with slow amusement. Sukuna, standing beside him, had the audacity to whistle low under his breath, lips curving into a smirk.

“Well, well,” Sukuna mused. “Look at this. Not so tough now, are we?”

You resisted the urge to chuck your coffee at him. Barely.

Instead, you took a long sip, pretending you weren’t standing there like some half-awake mess in front of two very amused Alphas. “What are you two doing here?”

Toji shrugged. “Checking in.”

You narrowed your eyes. “On what?”

Sukuna grinned. “You.”

Your fingers tightened around your mug. “I’m fine.”

Toji’s gaze dropped pointedly to your sleepwear, the oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder, shorts barely peeking beneath the hem. His eyes darkened just a little before he smirked. “Yeah, you look real put together.”

You flushed, standing straighter, pulling your shirt back up into place. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

Sukuna clicked his tongue. “Tsk. You wound us, sweetheart. We did offer our services, remember?”

Toji nodded toward his truck. “We were heading into town. Thought we’d see if you needed anything.”

You hesitated. You did need a few things, but the idea of being stuck in a car with them again?

Absolutely not.

“I’ll manage,” you said stiffly.

Sukuna’s grin widened, like he knew you were being stubborn just for the sake of it. “Suit yourself, Omega.”

Something in his tone made your stomach tighten—annoyance, irritation, and maybe, just maybe, something else.

Toji gave you one last slow, knowing look before turning back to the truck. “Call if you change your mind.”

You didn’t answer, just watched as they climbed back inside.

But as their truck rumbled down the driveway, you let out a breath.

Because for a moment—just a moment—your Omega instincts had whispered something absolutely traitorous in the back of your mind.

You should have gone with them.

Huffing out a breath, you stepped back inside, shutting the door behind you with more force than necessary. Idiots. Smug, cocky, far-too-attractive-for-their-own-good Alphas.

You stomped over to the couch, flopping down as you pulled out your phone. The notifications from their texts—sent after giving you their numbers yesterday—still sat unanswered. You had ignored them out of sheer stubbornness, refusing to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, they had been genuinely offering help.

But now, staring at their blank contact names, you figured it was time to at least label them properly.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you typed in Toji’s number first.

Grease Monkey #1

You snorted to yourself before moving on to Sukuna.

Walking Ego #2

It was fitting. Rude, but fitting.

Satisfied, you tossed your phone onto the coffee table and stretched out on the couch, arms behind your head.

You were not going to call them. Not now, not later, not even if you were stranded in the middle of the woods.

...Probably.

Your phone buzzed, and you glanced over at the screen.

Walking Ego #2: Bet you’re thinking about us already.

Your stomach dropped. You scowled. And then you did the only logical thing. You threw a pillow at your phone.

With a groan, you snatched your phone back up, flipping it over in your hand before deciding you needed a real distraction.

Ignoring Walking Ego #2’s text, you scrolled through your contacts and tapped on the name that mattered—Dad.

The phone barely rang twice before a familiar deep voice answered.

“Well, if it isn’t my runaway daughter,” your dad teased. “Finally remembering you’ve got a family back home?”

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see. “I didn’t run away, Dad. Just needed a break.”

A loud noise crackled through the speaker, followed by an unmistakable shout—one of your brothers. Then another, arguing in the background.

You sighed. “Are they fighting again?”

Your dad let out a heavy exhale. “When aren’t they?”

“Who is it this time?” you asked, already dreading the answer.

“The usual suspects—your wonderful brothers decided to wrestle in the living room and broke your mother’s vase.”

You winced. “Oof. How bad is the damage?”

“Let’s just say she’s threatening to mount their heads on the wall.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sounds about right.”

Another crash echoed through the line, followed by muffled cursing and someone yelling That didn’t count, you cheated!

You shook your head. Same old, same old.

“So,” your dad continued, his tone shifting just a little. “How’s the cabin? You settling in okay?”

You hesitated. For all your complaints, the little town had its charm. And the quiet was… nice. Well, when a certain pair of Alphas weren’t showing up unannounced.

“It’s fine,” you said, leaning back against the couch. “Peaceful.”

Your dad chuckled. “You sound bored.”

You scoffed. “I am not bored.”

“Uh-huh.” His voice was full of disbelief. “Met anyone interesting?”

Your mind immediately flashed to Toji and Sukuna, to the way their muscles flexed as they shoved your car into the shop, to the cocky smirks they wore like second skins, to how Sukuna always seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons—

You scowled. “No.”

Your dad hummed knowingly. “That was too quick of an answer.”

You groaned, scrubbing a hand down your face. “Goodbye, Dad.”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. Be safe, kid. And don’t let your brothers hear you say you miss them, or they’ll never let you live it down.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, kid.”

Hanging up, you exhaled, staring at the ceiling.

Your dad was wrong. You weren’t bored. You were just… stuck. Temporarily.

And the last thing you needed was distractions.

Your phone buzzed again.

Grease Monkey #1: Change your mind about that ride yet?

Your head fell back against the couch with a groan.

You stared at the message from Grease Monkey #1, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

You could ignore it. Pretend you were perfectly fine being stranded at the cabin. That you didn’t need them.

But… groceries. Supplies. And if you had to spend another day pacing the same four walls, you might actually lose your mind.

With a begrudging sigh, you typed out a response.

You: Maybe tomorrow.

You didn’t give them anything else. No pleasantries, no thank you, and certainly no emojis. If they were going to be smug about this, you weren’t going to give them more fuel.

Your phone barely had time to rest in your lap before another message popped up.

Walking Ego #2: Knew you couldn’t resist us.

You scowled.

You: I can and I will. I just need a damn ride, not your ego in my face.

A pause. Then—

Grease Monkey #1: You sure? We can arrange to have something else in your face instead.

Your entire body locked up. Heat prickled at your skin before you aggressively turned your phone face-down on the couch.

Nope. Absolutely not.

You weren’t going to engage. You weren’t going to let them get under your skin.

…You really shouldn’t have given them your number.

With a groan, you yanked a blanket over your head, pointedly ignoring the next buzz of your phone.

Whatever it was, you didn’t need to see it.

Tomorrow was already going to be a headache. ~~~ The next morning, you almost considered texting them to cancel.

But then you caught sight of the near-empty fridge, the sad excuse of snacks you had left, and the fact that you were one power outage away from eating plain bread for dinner.

So, with a heavy sigh, you pulled yourself together.

Hair brushed. Jeans and a T-shirt—casual, comfortable, non-inviting. No makeup. No effort beyond basic hygiene.

You weren’t trying for them.

By the time you heard the low rumble of a truck rolling up the gravel driveway, you had already prepared yourself.

You grabbed your phone and stepped outside, arms crossed as the truck rolled to a stop.

The driver’s side door swung open, and Toji hopped out first, stretching lazily, arms lifting just enough to show off a strip of toned stomach beneath his black tee. Sukuna followed, rounding the hood, eyes flicking over you with a slow, appraising smirk.

“Well, well,” Sukuna drawled. “Look who actually cleaned up for us.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want to look like a cave gremlin while running errands.”

Toji chuckled, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Shame. Thought maybe you dressed up just for us.”

You rolled your eyes. “In your dreams.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sukuna leaned against the truck, arms crossed. “You have been in my dreams.”

Your jaw clenched. “Do you always flirt like this, or is this some kind of contest between you two?”

Toji grinned. “Bit of both.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. It was too early for this.

“Are we actually going, or did you guys just show up to annoy me?”

Sukuna shrugged. “We can multitask.”

You turned on your heel, yanking open the passenger door and climbing inside before they could get another word in.

Toji smirked as he followed, settling into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up, Omega.”

You shot him a glare. “Drive, Grease Monkey.”

His grin widened, and Sukuna chuckled in the back seat.

This was going to be a long trip.

The ride into town was mostly quiet, aside from the occasional rock music humming from the truck’s speakers.

You kept your eyes on the passing trees, arms crossed, mind wandering. It wasn’t until curiosity got the better of you that you finally broke the silence.

“So…” You shifted in your seat, glancing between them. “How do you two know each other?”

Toji snorted. “Why? You jealous?”

You scoffed. “Hardly. Just curious why you two are so close. It’s kind of weird.”

Sukuna let out a low chuckle from the back. “You think we’re weird?”

“I think two Alphas living together in the woods like an old married couple is a little odd, yeah.”

Toji grinned, throwing a glance at Sukuna. “She’s got jokes.”

Sukuna smirked. “You’d be lucky if we were married.”

You rolled your eyes. “You gonna answer the question or what?”

Toji sighed, adjusting his grip on the wheel. “Met in high school. Got into a lotta shit together. Fights. Trouble. That kinda thing.”

Sukuna hummed in agreement. “Then we got older, figured we didn’t want to deal with city bullshit, so we got our own place. Built the cabin ourselves. Lived there ever since.”

You blinked. “Wait—you built it?”

Toji smirked. “That a little admiration I hear in your voice?”

You huffed. “No. Just surprised you two actually have skills outside of being cocky assholes.”

Sukuna chuckled. “We’re full of surprises, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, but the small spark of interest lingered.

Two Alphas. Best friends since high school. Living out in the woods, away from everything.

It was strange. Different from the usual possessive, competitive nature you expected from Alphas.

And despite yourself, you found that little fact… intriguing.

You shook the thought from your head, shifting in your seat. “Well, congrats on the domestic life. Glad you two found each other.”

Toji grinned. “Thanks, Omega. Maybe we’ll find a third to complete it.”

You choked. Sukuna laughed.

“Relax,” he teased. “We’re just messing with you.”

Your face burned as you turned to the window. Assholes.

Taglist is always open for anyone! Just comment, send an ask, or a DM and I'll add you! Taglist: @tojislongshlong , @jaxawinchester , @ectomotive Perma Tags: @thenightperson

[nephilimeq]

A Sense of Belonging

Prompt: Sharing A Blanket

@bucktommyfluffebruary

A03:

Tommy tugged his boyfriend closer to him as they made their way down to the beach, trailing behind the rest of the 118, whispering into his ear, “You really think they don’t mind that I’m coming along?” and Evan snorted and gave him a look.

“Tommy, you may be a member of the 217 now, but you are my boyfriend, so of course you’re invited.”

He then dragged him down to the beach, two blankets on his other arm, while the airman tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he had been invited to the 118’s barbecue bash on a private stretch of beach that had been offered up by one of the higher ups. It was apparently the anniversary of the day the 118 was first created, and they did it every year, and this year Evan wanted him to come along with him, as he hadn’t been able to last year as Tommy had been on call.

As they joined everyone on the beach, Bobby called out, “Hey! We have two rules! Remember them?”

Tommy grinned as Buck groaned, and then he watched with amusement as everyone reluctantly drawled out, “Don’t do anything to make us call 911…and you’re the only one who touches the grill,” and he laughed and shook his head.

“Oh my gosh, does he make you say this every year?”

“Yes,” Evan whined, moving them towards a clear spot over in the sand that was untouched, laying down one of the blankets, and Tommy smiled and joined him on top of it, noticing everyone else migrating a bit closer towards a circle that was being formed around what looked to be a pile of firewood that would soon be a beach bonfire, and he lit up at seeing it, feeling a twinge of excitement at the idea that they would be there long enough to enjoy a beach bonfire, something he had rarely experienced, all of his other experiences being ones in the army.

He nudged his boyfriend’s shoulder with his own and said low and quiet, “This looks like it’s gonna be fun,” and Evan shook his head and relied, “Let’s just say that I brought you here for a reason and hope you don’t mind being a buffer for when Chimney gets really drunk…”

“He gets that bad?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, surprised, and he nodded.

“Oh, yeah. It’s like beach bonfires unleash some part of him that usually never sees that light of day, so…prepare yourself,” he warned, and Tommy nodded.

“Noted.”

As they sat next to each other, he wondered if he should have brought the ring along with him. They had never talked about it before, but he thought Evan might not mind being proposed to in front of the people that he thought of as his family.

—and then his thoughts were cut off as Eddie shouted, “Tommy! You made it! Good, now there’s someone else who can critique Bobby’s grilling method with me,” and the airman laughed and stood up as the man approached, and they gripped each other’s hands and pulled, dropping a hand on the other’s shoulder, and he commented, “Not up to Texas grilling standards, I take it?” and Eddie shook his head, looking genuinely disappointed.

“Not even close,” he complained. “But maybe you can convince him to add more moisture to the steaks…”

Tommy shrugged, and then Evan was back up on his feet saying, “Hey, did you bring Chris with you?” and Eddie nodded and pointed over a ways.

“Yeah, he and the rest of the kids are spending some time together. I think they’re planning on another hostile takeover of your place,” he said with a wry grin and Tommy chuckled and replied, “I’m not complaining. It was great having all of them last time,” and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, ‘cause they’re always good for the cool uncles but never for the parents!”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

The three of them laughed, and then Tommy found himself following Evan and Eddie over to the rest of the 118, who were all mostly gathered around the bonfire area with various drinks and snacks in their hands, and as the two of them started to mingle, he wondered what would happen once he and Evan were engaged. As boyfriends they didn’t have much say in the other person’s career choices—despite them already living together—and so once they officially tied the knot, would their priorities change?

Even as Tommy joked with Hen about some of their most recent rescues, his thoughts went to the fact that he knew he would never want to give up his job, he loved it too much…and he had the distinct feeling that Evan felt the same way about being a firefighter, so how would having a family work?

“Hey, what’s on your mind?”

Howie.

“Uh…nothing, just…thinking about Evan,” he honestly replied, grateful when his friend handed him a craft beer, which he took gratefully. “Things are really good right now, you know? I’m just…I’m just reminding myself not to take any of it for granted…”

Howie grinned and tapped his beer against his own and said, “I know what you mean. Every day I wake up and I feel damn lucky to have Maddie and Jee in my life. Have things been perfect? Hell, no! But…they’re definitely worth it,” he finished with a smile as he took a long sip from the gold tinted glass bottle, and Tommy regarded him for a moment, wondering if he should ask him about how he should propose to Evan—but then he remembered that the man couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and so decided against it.

Instead he turned the conversation to a lighter topic as he kept an eye on his boyfriend who was moving his way towards the grill with a look in his eye that had him internally chuckling.

Oh, he was going to try and do something to the steaks, he just knew it.

But instead of doing anything, Tommy merely watched with an amused grin, enjoying the company of the 118 and the way they made him feel like he belonged, something that he had been craving for far too long—and soon (he hoped), it would be even more permanent than before.

The celebrating lasted long enough that the sun started to go down and the bonfire was lit up, and Evan had eventually migrated his way back to Tommy, drink in hand, cheeks lightly flushed, leaning into him and grabbing at his waist like they were teenagers, and the airman practically melted into every touch that his boyfriend gave him, feeling like he was somehow being able to experience something that he had been deprived of growing up.

There they stood in the fading light, lit only by the bonfire, cold drinks in hand, the wind drawing Evan’s dirty blonde hair into fluffy peaks, his eyes glowing. Somewhere in the background he could hear some music playing, something with a bouncy steel guitar, muted because it was far away.

All he could think of was the warm press of Evan’s body against his, the way his fingers slipped perfectly between his own, his head occasionally nuzzling into his shoulder, the sound of the kids screaming and laughing in the background as Howie—who was a little bit buzzed—was showing them how to play with the sparklers that he had somehow purloined from somewhere that he would bet good money wasn’t strictly legal…

…but it didn’t matter.

The sound of the waves was underneath it all as they ate the amazing food and enjoyed the wonderful company.

At some point a few people started dancing to the music in the background and he laughed when Maddie dragged her buzzed husband to a spot just beyond the bonfire and they began to twirl around. Tommy noticed the way Hen and Karen had been drinking nothing but juice and soda all night, keeping an eye on the kids, along with Bobby and Athena.

The wind picked up slightly and he felt Evan shiver next to him.

“Hey, let’s get back to the blankets,” he softly suggested against his ear, and the younger man nodded and let the airman lead him to where they had left the blankets.

As they sat down, Tommy stared at the way other members of the 118 began to dance as well, along with a couple of the kids, everyone feeling good on a typically warm California night. Evan still shivered, so he grabbed the second blanket and pulled it over both of their legs, smiling when Evan said, “Thanks,” and he pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Of course, babe,” he murmured, still soaking in the ambience of family and community, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that everyone around them would help him if he asked, and it was so intense that he had to close his eyes and swallow in an attempt to keep the tears from falling. He had never felt so safe and loved, and it was just…surreal. He had never thought that he would have this and that anyone would ever even care, let along claim to choose to love him.

He burrowed a bit more under the blanket, tugging Evan’s legs over his, watching as Eddie twirled Maddie, Howie sitting and watching with a fond smile.

He then softly whispered, “You have such an amazing family, Evan,” and his boyfriend looked up at him, blinked twice, and then said with a slow, toothy grin, “They’re our family, Tommy. You know that, right?” and he nodded.

“Yeah, I guess so…it’s just…I don’t think it’s really sunk in just yet, you know?”

They then fell into a comfortable silence, watching as everyone continued to celebrate…

…and then Evan nudged himself closer, practically in his lap, the two of them tangled up under the blanket that sprawled over their legs, and said into his neck, “Thank you for coming with me, babe. It wouldn’t have been the same without you, you know?” and he swallowed, feeling a rush of emotion, glad that he hadn’t brought the ring with him because he would have done something stupid and proposed to him right then and there, not caring who would see.

But now he knew that there wasn’t going to be anymore waiting.

Within a week, his boyfriend would be his fiancé.

[icey--stars]

Ew, Love

A very traumatized Eris, in a new relationship with Azriel, post-Beron's brutal death. 1.2k words

A/N: I had a little time to write this little Azris thing for SJM Pride Week! It isn't much, but I had fun. (why do I have SO MANY college papers and then no time for azris???)

For Day 6 of @sjmprideweek (Love Language)

TW: Self-depreciation, past domestic abuse/trauma

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Eris was stressed. That fact was pretty obvious to probably half his court at this point. He wasn’t his usual put-together self since becoming High Lord only a few weeks ago. He’d been trying to get things settled in the ways he wanted them and making dramatic changes.

But he’d also been trying to figure out his shit with Azriel. They’d gone public with the relationship since one, Eris wanted to show he wasn’t entirely a depraved freak incapable of love, but also to show his court that Beron’s bullshit would not stand any longer. It was overwhelming, though. Before publicity, Eris had simply been happy with sitting in the same room as Azriel. He wanted to do more and he knew Azriel wanted more. At the very fucking least Azriel deserved physical affection.

But here Eris was, curled up in the corner with his knees to his chest, exhausted and completely unsure of how to proceed. Azriel was due to come over anytime now. And Eris, of course, was terrified. Beron had drilled two things into him: a relationship between two males is wrong and to never show weakness which to Beron, translated to any sort of fondness. Eris had been punished plenty enough to know what not to do.

Eris knew what relationships generally looked like from his observations. He knew that there was generally physical intimacy even if not sexual. Hugging. Kissing. Holding hands. All things that Eris had been punished severely for seeking— even from his own mother. He also knew that there were generally other ways to show one’s love. Gift-giving, doing errands and chores for them, even goddamn poetry. And Eris did not have a damned clue on what to do.

He was basically pulling out his hair at this point, half-tempted to literally find philosophy books on love and affection.

This was, of course, the moment that Azriel walked in with more jump in his step than usual and a soft smile on his face. Eris froze, slowly lowering his hands as he looked up at Azriel.

Azriel’s face turned from its somewhat joyful expression to one of worry within milliseconds. Eris grimaced and sighed, standing up slowly with an ashamed look on his face. “Look, I know I look pathe-”

Azriel cut him off before he could finish, “What’s wrong, Eris?”

Eris’s words died in his throat.

Azriel tilted his head, stepping an inch closer hesitantly after Eris’s beats of silence. “Eris,” he repeated softer. “You’re upset.”

“I’m fine,” Eris ground out.

“You’re not,” Azriel insisted. “Don’t try to lie when you aren’t even closing off the bond right now.”

Eris huffed in annoyance. That little string in his chest. Nothing compared to what it could be, according to Azriel and his plentitude of family members in mating bonds. But it was enough to betray him.

“It doesn’t seem like it's the Autumn Court considering you usually spend that stress at your desk. Not in the corner,” Azriel deducted. “So, what is it, Eris?”

Eris couldn’t manage a lie this time. He also didn’t know how to put it into words though. Especially not words that wouldn’t practically shame him the entire time. Or cause Azriel to give him that sickeningly pitying look.

“Just tell me,” Azriel urged gently. “I won’t interrupt if you need to explain or struggle to describe it. I just want to understand why my mate is so stressed that he’s in the corner when I’m used to him flaunting himself around proudly.”

Eris sighed, lowering his head. “You know- you know Beron. By now you know what he’s done to me and maybe some of the stigma that makes this entire mate bond incredibly hard,” he began, feeling himself struggle through the words like he was rambling. His silver tongue seemed to have abandoned him in his time of need. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I know how to flirt with the females for a good night in bed but to hell with all other experience in relationships. Even family ones, honestly. Lucien is probably the only one to have any sort of general idea of the shit,” he finished lamely.

Azriel hummed, tilting his head slightly. Eris’s anxiety spiked for some goddamn reason, watching as Azriel resituated his wings behind him slightly before replying.

“So you’re worried about…” Azriel trailed off, grimacing slightly as if he was also struggling. “‘Showing love’ is the best descriptor I’ve got,” he said, chuckling. “Which you must know, is just as hard for me to say as it is for you to think about.”

Eris sighed and nodded with his head lowered.

“Eris, I’m not worried about that,” Azriel murmured, grabbing a hold of his hands firmly to drag Eris closer and draw Eris’s gaze to his own. “I’m the famed shadowsinger of the Night Court. Practically dead inside and vicious all the time. Even that isn’t all fake. Sure, I probably have more practice than you since I’ve been living with a semi-healthy family for around 500 years, but I understand, Eris. And you should know by now that there is no pressure. Especially not while you’re getting the court together still.”

Eris grimaced. “I know,” he insisted quietly. “But I should-”

“No, you don’t have to do anything,” Azriel cut him off firmly. “If you want to have that, however, that is different.”

Eris narrowed his gaze, brows furrowing in thought. He’d never thought of it that way. “I suck at it, but I…”

“You want to have that with me?” Azriel finished for him with a grin. “What sorts of things?”

“I will burn you alive if you make me repeat any of that mushy bullshit to you,” Eris retorted without any real bite.

Azriel scoffed, chuckling softly. “I expected that from you,” he teased. “Even if you do end up being shit at it, Eris, I won’t blame you for it with Beron as your father. At least I had genuine brothers. You were fucked from the beginning.”

“Thanks for summing that up,” Eris said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he rubbed a hand down his face in frustration.

“Do you see what I’m getting at though? I understand, Eris. I understand why you’re worried. But there is no pressure and you don’t have to say anything. Just try it,” Azriel urged. “And take a break from your paperwork before you actually go insane.”

Eris rolled his eyes, but sighed. Azriel was right. He might be shit, but he doubted the shadowsinger was that much better. Plus, the male could put him on his ass if he really didn’t like something. Or shut him up if he did something wrong.

“Trust me to show you,” Azriel murmured, daring a step closer so that those cold tendrils of shadows trailed across Eris’s pale skin. “Do you trust me, Eris?”

Eris took a deep breath and nodded. “I do,” he agreed in the quietest of whispers. He stepped closer and dared putting his arms around Azriel under his arms, careful to avoid the wings.

Azriel grinned and also wrapped his arms around Eris, putting one hand on the back of Eris’s head to pull him further into the embrace. Eris couldn’t help himself from burying his face into the junction between Azriel’s neck and shoulders and just breathing. It was stupidly calming.

“You’re doing fine, Eris,” Azriel murmured. “And it’s not just you who has to show affection or whatever ghastly word you can come up with,” he reminded his mate. “There’s two of us.”

“I’m shit at whatever this love is,” Eris muttered, slightly muffled against Azriel’s leathers. “But I do want more of it, strangely.” Azriel just squeezed him harder.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Tagged in all ACOTAR Stories: @bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @bubybubsters, @fieldofdaisiies, @skyesayshi, @lilah-asteria,

Tagged in all Azriel Stories: @ladylokilaufeyson5, @marina468,

[umikawa]

infatuated

a/n: listened to like four songs on repeat to write this haha (￣▽￣) I hope this is good!?? used penny and pete from tgm’s relationship as inspo lol <3

Stanley Snyder x gn!reader | 1.8k wc | warnings: on&off relationship (get it together!) alcohol consumption (ur in a bar, don’t waste it) smoking (it’s Stanley) maybe a bit ooc? I love yapping.

♫ infatuated / the royston club | flash in the pan / wallice | war / keshi | lullaby for you / greer

“Nice to see a familiar face here.” 

You chuckle at the voice, smooth and deep, with the slightest southern drawl, familiar and warm. The person slides into the barstool beside you, nodding to the other person beside you with a glare. 

Get away. Get lost. Don’t come back. The intention was obvious: to rid you of a flea you’d spend too much unnecessary time and attention on. He saved you the time, being in uniform, his purple lipstick painting a nasty (shit-eating) smirk on his lips. His appearance added to his intimidating personality. 

“Scaring away my dates as per usual.” You laugh, downing the rest of your drink and flagging the bartender for another. “A beer too, please– Pabst.”

Stanley grins at the remembrance of his drink of choice, crossing his arms across his chest. “Taking your dates to our bar, sitting in our seats— as per usual.” He mocks your words with a scoff, tipping his head towards the bartender when they slide the beer to him. “Don’t have any other place to show your collection of love interests?” 

“Don’t you have any other bar to go to?” 

“Actually,” he starts, quickly swigging his beer. “This is the closest one to where I’m stationed, but you knew that, didn't you?”

You shrug, tracing the rim of your glass as you refuse to look at him. “Maybe I’m just eternally trapped here,” you said quietly, laughing softly at your own words. “It’s my own personal hell. Limbo, maybe.”

Stanley looks down the spout of his bottle, eerily shifting into the barrel of a gun the longer he stares at it. Was that supposed to be an unrelated metaphor? “Why do you keep holding on?”

You turned to him for the first time since he walked in. Your expression was almost deadpan, but Stanley knew how to read you: longing, resignation, guilt. 

He didn’t understand the last one; you had no reason to be guilty. Your parting was solely because of him and his devotion to serve. He would lay down his life in war if he needed to, and you didn’t like that. 

“Why do you want to let go?” 

Stanley looks at you, really looks at you. Three key differences have changed since he last saw you. 

For one, the bags under your eyes. You’d kill him for pointing it out. You always gave him shit for saying it— he was just concerned and didn’t know how to show it. Though you did have some the last time he saw you, they seemed to have worsened, emphasizing the darkened skin underneath your eyes. Have you not been sleeping well?

Two, your hair was longer. It would look the same to a normal person; nothing more than a few inches had been added to the ends of your hair, but Stanley could tell. Were you letting it grow? Or were you refusing to cut it because it was the last thing he touched before he left you again? He shouldn’t give himself so much credit, but hair holds memories. 

Third, the lack of bite. Before, you’d shoot remark after remark with him, going on and on for hours on end until you were leaning against the counter with a defeated (sleepy) expression. But now, it was only blatant relinquishment: no fight, no argument, nothing. 

“You truly think I want to let go, or that I have?” He keeps his eyes forward, zoning in on the bottles lined up in rows behind the bar. “Do you think you’re the only one that comes to this bar and sits in these seats, hoping the other will show up or already be here?” 

Your hand comes up to your face with a quiet sigh, almost a whine, like you didn’t want this conversation to happen. “So you admit it, you feel the same… reluctancy as I do.”

Reluctance? To what? Let go? 

“That’s one of the reasons we didn’t work out back then.” You glance at him lazily, eyes darting to the somehow visible stain of purple lipstick on the rim of his bottle. “We always bottled our emotions to save face for the other.” 

“Couples therapists would’ve loved us.” He chuckles at your quick joke, taking a sip of his beer. “I guess somewhere along the lines, we got so used to bottling everything up that we started to hide our infatuation as well.” You pause momentarily, furrowing your brows while staring absentmindedly into your glass. “Even when we went to bed, we weren’t together. We were just…laying next to each other.”

Stanley hums, feeling his pocket for a cigarette—he really needs one right now. You spare him a glance but don’t say anything as he retracts his hand, silently waving to the bartender and sliding your card across the counter. 

He opens his mouth to protest, but he was already too late when you put your card on the bar. So he keeps quiet, muttering to himself about his marine salary that would have paid your tab. 

“It’s fine. Besides, I had a lot more than you did.” You reassured, slipping your card back into your wallet. “Let's go outside. You wanna smoke, don’t you?” He follows wordlessly as you walk out of the bar, taking the box of cigarettes from his coat the second he feels the cool air hit his skin. 

Nothing was said between you two for a while—just a silent exchange of glances. The only sound was the exhale of breath that flew past Stanley’s lips occasionally. He’d passed the cigarette to you when he caught you eyeing it, laughing softly at the disgusted face you made after inhaling it. 

“I’m glad I never picked up this habit from you.” Your voice strained as you held your coughs in. “How the hell did you pass the Marine inspection?” 

“Tobacco isn’t a stimulant.”

“Are you dumb? It is. It’s literally nicotine.” He looks off the side, blinking down at the dimly lit stick in his grasp. “Stanley, come on.” You burst into laughter at his reaction, nearly keeling over when he drops the cigarette to the ground and squashes it with his shoe. 

He freezes when he feels your hand holds the side of his face, fingers brushing against his buzzed sides. “What happened to that smart-ass brain of yours, huh?”

Why were you being so casual when moments ago you looked like you wanted a hole to open up beneath you and swallow you? So that you could avoid the prying question of what could’ve been?

“It got fried,” he says, a blank expression on his face. He couldn’t focus with your warm touch against his skin. “Being a marine isn’t easy, you know?” Your thumb starts to brush against his cheek, and Stanley has to fight every power within him not to shut his eyes in content. 

“I bet.” 

Silence looms over the two of you again. Your palm is still planted on his cheek, and his eyes fluttered shut a second ago—much to his dismay and to your amusement. But before he could continue to savor the feeling of your warmth properly, your hand starts to slip away slowly, and Stanley starts to feel… 

Reminiscent. 

He’s quick to latch his fingers around your wrist before you can pull away entirely, holding it near his head while you stare at him with wide eyes. He didn’t know what he was doing, nor did you, but Stanley didn’t stop himself when he began pulling you closer, and you didn’t make any effort to pull away when his face was inches from yours.

Just before his lips press against yours, he whispers out. “Do you want this?” A faint nod, almost like hesitation. Then another, firm and confident. Stanley would’ve preferred you use your words, but he dismisses it this time, not wasting another second before he presses his lips to yours. 

You sigh through your nose when he kisses you, hands traveling to his neck, holding his jaw delicately, bringing him closer to you with each passing second. 

Then, Stanley gets desperate. 

His movements become sloppy, uncharacteristic for a man as poised as him, who was ever the perfectionist. His mind was fuzzy, eyes screwed shut as he tried to compose himself before you could pull away. 

Stanley was terrified, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

His hand moved to your waist, gripping tightly like he was afraid to lose you again, and maybe he was right to feel that way— because it always ended like that. 

He’d have you in his grasp, and then he’d get dragged back to reality before you could indulge in the feeling. But Stanley never held tight enough to keep you bound to him. That was his fault. That’s why you never stayed. Because Stanley could never commit the way you wanted–  or hoped.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” He whispers when he pulls away, resting his head against yours while clutching the fabric of your jacket tightly. “I won’t be here for a few months, but when I come back– will you let me come home to you?” 

When you look at him, there’s a clear emotion written on his face. One that he’d never shown much before, one that he kept bottled up in fear of judgment.

Vulnerability. 

“It always ends the same with us, Stanley.” His eyes shut as you spoke, saying the words he wished you hadn’t. “I don’t know if I can handle watching you leave again.”

“I won't.” He shakes his head, “I couldn’t let you go when I didn’t even have you. Your name is engraved in my heart and soul.”

A soft chuckle comes from you suddenly. Stanley doesn’t understand why. “I never knew you could be so romantic.”

“Let’s focus on the topic at hand, shall we?” He prompts with a light snort. “Will you wait for me?” 

A quiet hum follows his question. It's almost like you’re trying to torment him with your silence. “I’ll wait forever and a day, Stanley.” You answer, fixing his collar to occupy your hands. “Even if we break up two weeks in, you’re worth it.” 

He shakes his head. As if he was going to let you go again.“When I come back, I’m yours forever.” 

You sigh, filled with faux despair. “What a nightmare.” Stanley grins at your remark, holding your chin as he presses a long kiss to your lips. “Oh, I’m already dreading it.” He hums softly, lips curling into a smile when you bump your nose against his. 

“We’ll make it work.” He says suddenly, though it sounds more of a promise to himself than a declaration to you. 

You glance at him, an almost pained smile on your face. “I know.” 

“I love you.”

He’s met with wide eyes holding a glimmer of hope and a touch of love. But, Stanley nearly takes his words back and scoffs to himself at your response. 

“I know.”

a/n: I was watching sw… that explains the ending.. sorry… also no idea if Pabst is a good beer, just heard it in a song

[starletdust]

HI HI HI IM HERE TO EXIST IN YOUR INBOX TO CHEER YOU UP. I noticed you suggested Poe and Akutagawa were some of your favorites. So. Could I request some headcanons for Little Akutagawa and Caregiver Chuuya? :3 I like the idea of Chuuya connecting with Akutagawa after Dazai leaves

𐂯 little akutagawa & cg chuuya hcs !!!! ୨୧

i was going to go back to doing requests in order ( lie ) and then you came along . hi i hope it’s comfy in my inbox please visit whenever you’d like . but chuuyamention happy binkies i love them both aaauugh my creatures ♡

probably not the most in-character but we will ignore that right ., right .

𝜗𝒞 ;; akutagawa didn’t actually realize he regressed at first ! he mostly chalked it up to exhaustion making his brain feel a little fuzzy and his motor skills a bit worse than usual , until he was doted on a little extra after a rougher mission and he was way more aware of how he was acting / what he was acting like …

 ⤷ even then though he didn’t properly label it as regression — not until chuuya swooped in and began to care for him !!

☆ ;; chuuya makes sure to give akutagawa the praise he needs !!! it’s not the same as dazai’s , but the little guy always tries to be ‘ useful ’ even when bitty (,,>﹏<,,) chuuya tries to get him to relax a bit more but sometimes it’s a losing battle TT

 ⤷ akutagawa also tries to tell chuuya he’s regressed a bit older , maybe around 7-9 , but in reality he’s usually in the 3-5 range … he melts with just a tiny bit of pampering though ! he’s already pretty tired when little , mostly getting into his headspace involuntarily , so his resolve is quite weak ,,,

۶ৎ ;; akutagawa isn’t the biggest fan of color , and he doesn’t buy himself much for regressing — mostly because all the baby things are just too bright and overwhelming for him < / 3 he likes when everything’s coherent together , and muted colors are his best friend !!! although he has a few outliers in his little gear ( that chuuya has spoiled him with ) , namely things that remind him of the people he’s close to !

★ ;; a very very quiet , very very sedentary little . he’s not entirely nonverbal , but he doesn’t speak very much and likes to spend most of his time doing easy activities or watching chuuya do whatever ^^ however he’ll absolutely voice whenever he’s uncomfy or feeling icky !!

𝜗𐑞 ;; chuuya is sort of an in-between of a father figure and just close friend kind of caregiver (..◜ᴗ◝..) akutagawa doesn’t call him any sort of title , but he’s definitely one of if not the first people he goes to with advice for trickier stuff ( like emotions ) ! chuuya’s just glad to see his subordinate(s) doing okay , i think he’s always had that sort of protective instinct with every organization he’s been in and it just amplifies when akutagawa regresses ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

♫ ;; chuuya tries to get akutagawa out of his coat for safety reasons if he’s bitty , but a lot of the time it just freaks the tiny out more — it’s super hit-or-miss !!! if he’s regressed especially young though chuuya tends to succeed , since it can be a bit heavy / overstimulating for aku compared to some comfier clothes or pajamas ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

yay ! i somewhat wrote something ! again i promise i know their characters i’m just not at my best fallign to my knees sorry this is all over the place

@twinypwupy

[sarafangirlart]

Somone: Oh so your were friends with Athena and Artemis when you were little girls? It must have been so piecfull, and magical!

Persephone, who remembers one time when she was picking flowers, then Athena and Artemis join, it was too boring for the later so she decided to climb up to the top of a tree, to pick a flower, whaile Athena was yelling from the top of her lungs at her, then Artemis fall off the tree right on top of Persephone, then the three started yelling at each other, and to the time when the adults arived the three were playfully fighting in the mud: Yeah.

Such an underrated sisterly relationship.

[tyrianlynch]

I’ve been improving a lot mentally lately and today my wife (best friend who I’ve lived with for 7 years) told me she’s divorcing me (moving to a city we both swore we’d never live in) and she’s taking the kids (our dog) and this is just further proof that god will never allow me to be happy or hopeful

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

It continues to trip me up how much human brains are just weird organic computers

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied to me about his human job?

I (542 vampire) and my husband (260 vampire) have been together for a little over two centuries. There’s a saying in the vampiric community that it takes a century for a tryst to become an enduring partnership and another century to become soulmates. I thought that was true and that Matthew (using his real name because fuck you, Matthew) and I would be together forever…until this week.

First, let me explain a few things to the mortals here. I don’t mean that negatively – I came here specifically to get the opinion of those with a finite lifespan. However, I want to be fair to Matthew as much as possible and some of his decisions are very immortal-minded.

Both Matthew and I are vampires who have chosen to forsake some of our powers in exchange for the ability to daywalk. We made the transition together on our 100th anniversary almost 115 years ago. It wasn’t an easy transition for me. I was very dependent on human blood and I spent the first twenty years in almost constant sleep as my body adjusted to running off of less lunar magic and more solar magic.

It really felt like I was losing everything. My body got physically weaker and my powers began to disappear one by one. It felt like every time I woke, another part of me was missing. One day I could turn into a wolf, the next I could barely turn into a vapor. I could command a legion of undying servants, and then I could barely convince the mailman he didn’t see me levitate down from the second floor.

Matthew, however, took to daywalking like a werewolf to a sheep farm. He barely seemed to feel the pain of losing his power, maybe because he was so much younger than me. Whatever the case, he was out all the time once he stabilized. He would be gone for days sometimes and when he came back it was with fantastic stories about the humans’ new inventions or the new structures being built in whatever town we were in.

I’m not saying I regret transitioning. Just that Matthew and I had very different experiences. It felt like he barely changed at all while my entire being got rewritten. Being immortal makes you comfortable in your own skin. I never doubted myself or my power after I turned 100. But becoming a daywalker made me feel like I was being born as a human again. It was humiliating and vulnerable. I have to admit there were times I resented how easily Matthew did it. I blamed him for not supporting me like I thought he should. I would daydream about draining a human in front of him, showing him what I thought of his fascination with them. I had all sorts of vile and vengeful thoughts. I’m not proud of the person I was and now I’m grateful Matthew wasn’t there to see the lows I sunk to.

Despite all my awful thoughts, I didn’t quit. I don’t know why, but I didn’t. I stuck with it and, day by day, things got easier.

After 26 years I began to stabilize. The benefits of being a daywalker slowly blossomed before me.  Now I can say that I am completely happy with my daywalker status and all the changes it’s brought.

I am the most mentally stable I have been since my Turning in 1482. It’s like I’m awake. The fits of rage that used to consume me for months at a time have completely disappeared. I don’t experience the same level of obsession I used to which has freed up a lot of my time that I used to spend stalking my victims.

However, that drastic of a change would be challenging in any relationship. Matthew and I ended up together because of my obsessive nature. Our relationship became strained when that part of me went dormant. He expected me to follow his immersion into the human world just as I had followed him in his revenge quest against his Master. He expected me to support him wholeheartedly and with everything I was. He wanted sacrifices from me that I used to not even flinch at before making. But something was just…different. We wanted different things. I wanted different things.

Matthew was obsessed with being the perfect human. He craved full immersion. He still makes it a point to get a human job every twenty years or so. Me? I’m happy to live off our investments and some mild mind control while enjoying the art and theater community the humans have evolved.

It got bad. Some years, we spent like ghosts in our own house, drifting by each other without a glance. Other years, it was like we were spies behind enemy lines. He would do whatever he could to thwart me and I would go out of my way to ridicule him. Our vitriol poisoned the earth. Matthew didn’t speak to me for a full decade when that poison killed off an entire town.

About twenty years ago, it all came to a head. We had a serious sit-down talk about our relationship. It wasn’t easy. What they say about teaching an old dog new tricks is sometimes true. Matthew wanted me to be as involved with the humans as he was. He wanted me to care about them like he did. I wanted him to travel with me like we used to and not just hop from town to neighboring town (which he did to maintain a human identity with references so he could keep working). When it became clear that we were at an impasse, I brought up the idea of separation.

Separating in the vampiric world isn’t easy. There are a lot of alliances and blood oaths to be considered. Over the two centuries we spent together, we became known as a unit to a number of supernatural entities that we maintain an uneasy truce with. Separating would mean creating new oaths and alliances with the same individuals. And there was no guarantee that those individuals would make new pacts with both of you. A LOT of vampire couples end up in blood feuds while separating. Neither of us wanted that.

There was also, of course, the emotional side of things. While a lot of immortals tend to only feel muted emotions (especially vampires as old as me), Daywalking had made both of us more sensitive than we’d been before. We were both attached to the memories we shared and neither of us could imagine life without the other. After 200 years together, it felt like Matthew was my right arm, and I his. When I brought up separation, we both felt it like we were discussing an amputation.

After about a year of talking, we finally reached an agreement. We didn’t want to separate, and so we would compromise. I wouldn’t interfere with any of Matthew’s human jobs for the 15-17 years if he could hold them without arousing suspicion. In exchange, he would take a year off to go traveling with me before finding another town for us to live in. In between my trips, he would go to plays and galas with me to enjoy human artistry at least once a month.

Maybe our deal was in his favor. At the time, it felt practical and fair. A year of traveling wouldn’t undo Matthew’s string of connections. We would still see each other frequently by going on dates that I liked. Matthew would get to stay immersed in the human world at the level he wanted, and I could stay within my comfort zone.

Which brings me to my current problem.

We are currently at the start of one of Matthew’s work cycles. He’s been everything from a fireman to a politician to a subway worker to a barista. He craves knowledge and connection to a terrifying degree. If it weren’t for how we move every 20 years and he goes without protest, I’d call it obsession.

This cycle, Matthew told me he was going to be a teacher. I was hesitant. While the humans have become more tolerant and less violent over the years, that doesn’t mean they will tolerate us near their young. Enough humans know about vampires that staking in the modern era is a real possibility. Matthew could incite an angry mob against us or, heaven forbid, get a vampire hunter on our tail. I have yet to be shot, but I hear that they have silver bullets that hurt like Hell.

When I voiced my protests, Matthew reminded me about our agreement. He said that I wouldn’t interfere with his jobs and he’d go to all the plays I liked. He even pointed out that, as a teacher, he could get us into high school plays and expositions. I was uneasy, but agreements are penultimate to immortals. I silenced my objections and let him get a job as a science teacher at a local high school.

When Michael has had jobs in the past, I’ve never really paid attention. One time he was a state senator for ten years and I never even heard him speak. I didn’t consider it worth my time to hear whatever his facsimile of a human would say. Real humanity is in the art they create, not in the parody Michael enacts.

But this one…I couldn’t ignore this one. Maybe it was because I was still uneasy about his proximity to human young or maybe I could sense his lies even at the beginning. Whatever the case, I watched him.

The first thing I noticed was the hours. He would go to work early and would often come home when it was time for us to sleep. When I asked him about it, he said that he wasn’t used to grading and that he had underestimated what it took to put a good lesson plan together. I visited some online forums and that’s apparently reasonable for first year teachers.

He would also sometimes go in on the weekends. He missed one of our dates because there was a “grading emergency” that needed his immediate attention. Something about a student’s test getting lost and then found and he needed to input their grade before the deadline which was on Saturday. Humans like silly rules like that so I didn’t even look that one up. I just reminded him that he couldn’t miss our dates again or else he was breaking our deal. He apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again.

Then about three months into his new job, the phone calls started. We have a private room in our house for when we need to talk without any visitors overhearing. Michael moved all his school supplies in there, saying that he needed a silent space to concentrate on his grading. Whenever he got a call, he would never answer it in front of me. Instead, he’d say “Sorry, work” and just go into his office.

I also noticed that he didn’t dress very professionally. Human fashion changes quickly so it didn’t register at first. A sweatshirt here and there slipped past me, and also the Gucci slides. When he started wearing baggy jeans and jerseys to work, I noticed. I may not be up to date on all the newest fashions, but I do go to classy events. I know what a slob looks like and it didn’t sit right with me that he was wearing that to school. When I asked him about it, he always had an excuse. “This is what everyone wears” and “It’s a theme day” or, bafflingly, “It’s spirit week!”

I tried to leave it alone. The reason we have stayed together for so long is because of our agreement to not interfere in each other’s lives. But between his hours, the phone calls, and his appearance, something didn’t add up.

Then, last Thursday, he missed another one of our dates. We were supposed to go to the Nutcracker together. Even though I prefer matinees (when the cast is fresh), I agreed to get us tickets for the evening show so that he wouldn’t have to leave work early. When he wasn’t there at 7pm, I called him and he didn’t answer. Then, when I called him again, his phone was switched off.

I was furious. I spend nearly two decades in these tiny towns so he can live his human fantasy and he can’t even show up for one two hour show? It was the first time since becoming a daywalker that I felt that angry. I was scared about what I might do, so I made myself go home to wait for him.

Only, he never came home that night. At 3am, he sent me a text apologizing and promising to make up our date on Saturday. But the Nutcracker was only playing until Friday and that would be too little, too late. To be honest, it already was. I texted him that and he never responded.

He never ended up coming home last weekend. I texted and called him probably a dozen times and he never responded. I got angrier and angrier as the days dragged by. Did he think I was someone to be taken lightly? Did he not realize that the fragile agreement between us was all that was keeping us from separation?

Yesterday (Monday), I couldn’t take it anymore. If he wasn’t going to come home or respond to my messages, then I would go to him. If he was so obsessed with this new job that he would ignore me for it, then I knew exactly where to find him.

I arrived at his school at 10am. I researched enough to know how to go to the office and sign myself in. I asked the office assistant which room Mr. Duetto was in.

The lovely young woman looked confused. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give that information out to anyone but family,” she said.

“I am his only family,” I said.

She clicked a few more keys and looked more confused. “His paperwork only shows his mother, Delilah Duetto.”

That’s right. His mother. But I still didn’t understand then.

“That’s me,” I said.

“You are not the mother of 17-year-old.”

“I’m his wife,” I said.

She was upset by that. I won’t bore you with every detail, but I had to alter her memories so she wouldn’t call the police. I may not look like someone who has a teenager, but I also don’t look like a teenager. I ended up having to alter her memories so she wouldn’t call human CPS on an apparent adult swearing she was married to a minor.

I went home and broke into his office. There weren’t any lesson plans. There were no graded papers. There were syllabus from different classes, homework with his name on it, and a few polaroids taped to the bottom of his desk of him at a party with children.

Human children. I don’t honestly know which is worse.

(EDIT: I know the child part is the worst part. I misspoke because of my anger. It’s not the humans’ fault that my husband is a pervert.)

I broke into his laptop and used that to check his text messages. He’s been texting like a high schooler. He’s been to parties with them, listened to their problems and even fabricated a few of his own. He’s caught in some sort of weird love triangle where a freshman girl likes him but his “best friend” likes her. He has texted both of them about it, promising his “bro” that nothing is happening and then turning around and leading this girl-child on.

Some choice quotes: I should know better than to get close with you. You and I come from very different worlds

To which she replied, lol maybe we should let our worlds collide

!!!!

I find the entire situation disgusting. Matthew is several centuries older than them and he definitely knows better. He’s literally wearing the sheep’s fleece amongst the flock. He has no business forming relationships with human children and even less pretending to be one of them. He’s not a baby. He is over two centuries old!

What is he doing flirting with a child? It’s vile and disgusting and I was set to kill him for it.

I confronted him about it when he came home last night. I told him that he was sick and dangerous and if he loved humans then he needed to stop immediately. I told him we either left town today or I would make sure he never set foot back in that school in a way he really wouldn’t like.

 He threw a huge tantrum over my invading his privacy. He shouted at me that I had broken my promise to never interfere in his job. He called me controlling and crazy.

I told him he was the crazy one for chatting up a child. He told me he wasn’t, she was just his friend. I asked him to read their texts out loud if he was being so friendly. I also pointed out that there was no way a 260-year-old vampire is a child’s friend.

He told me I was a hypocrite because I basically cradle robbed him (we’re almost 300 years apart.) He said if anyone was disgusting, it was me for taking advantage of him.

I pointed out that he wasn’t a child, he was over 60 and had already been a vampire for four decades. He argued that that was basically being a child in vampire terms.

I was so angry at that point that the house was shaking. I told him if he felt that way, then we could get divorced right then and there. That that was what I wanted to do anyway because I couldn’t be married to a pedophile.

He asked me if I was seriously going to start a blood feud over him immersing himself in human society. I said no, I’m starting a blood feud because he’s become every predatory stereotype humans have of vampires.

He called me a hypocrite again and told me he was leaving. He said not to call him unless I was ready to apologize. I told him that the next time he sees me, he’d better run before I showed him the real difference between us. And it wasn’t just 300 years.

When I calmed down, doubt started creeping in. From an immortal perspective, what he’s doing isn’t really wrong. I hate to say it, but most immortals don’t view human lives as significant. I know a few vampires who would say that divorcing because he’s playing with his food is idiotic.

Plus, there’s the agreement to consider. During our fight, Matthew pointed out that being a student is a job to humans. So therefore I didn’t have the right to interfere. A big part of me thinks that’s bullshit, but a small part of me wonders if he’s maybe right about that?

I also have to ask myself why this even bothers me. I’m the one in the relationship that is aloof from humans. I’m the one that’s always saying we are from different worlds (Yeah, he stole that from me) and for good reason. 

But over the years, I’ve become fond of humans. No immortal makes art like them. I may not remember my time as a mortal, but there are works that give me a sense of nostalgia. Sometimes I think I can remember being a child myself, standing in a field like in Monet painting, staring at the wheatstacks and waiting for the miller to come. 

The thought of Matthew playing with them makes me sick. It’s like even after all the years of him living amongst them, he thinks of them as props in his twisted play. It’s even worse that he’s doing this to children. 

I can’t help but think something went really wrong with my husband when I wasn’t looking. At the very least, I’m planning on divorcing him. But would I be the asshole if I killed him too?

 Separating from him will be violent and messy. There will likely be human casualties. But I don’t see any other way. So, I ask.

AITA for divorcing my husband for lying to me about his human job?

----

Thanks for reading! I loved answering some of the responses I got when I first posted this over on my Patreon (X)!

These collaborative story telling pieces are the highlight of my week. Next week's story is about a witch who wants to know if she should attend her high school reunion even though she's responsible for stripping two former classmates of their magic...

Please check that out here (X) if you''d like early access! Otherwise I'll see y'all next week :)

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[littlelamy]

Could you write a Rafe x reader fic where reader says she wants to spend more time with Rafe, but he gets upsets and says something mean in the heat of the moment. Reader is upset and stops "bothering" him and initially Rafe doesn't realise it, but he figures out you're ignoring him

Maybe with a fluffy HEA ending, but if you want to keep it angsty I'm also all for it (:

hope you like it! ⭐️ it was a quiet friday night when you finally found the courage to bring it up. things with rafe hadn’t been the same for a while. he was always out with friends or buried in work, his phone practically glued to his hand. you could see him drifting further and further away, and it left you feeling like an afterthought. you missed him, missed the little moments when he’d look at you like you were the only person in the world.

so, you decided to say something—softly, carefully—as the two of you sat on the couch with takeout boxes scattered around you.

“hey…baby,” you started, keeping your voice light. “i was thinking… it’d be nice if we could spend a little more time together, you know? just us.”

rafe barely looked up, shoveling food into his mouth. “what’re you talking about?” he mumbled through a bite. “we’re together now, aren’t we?”

you forced a smile. “yeah, but… i mean like actually spending time together. like doing something fun. or even just… talking.”

he let out an irritated sigh, setting his food down with a clatter. “are you serious right now? i’ve got so much shit to deal with, and you’re really gonna start whining about ‘spending time together’? Jesus, can you just not be so goddamn needy for once?”

the words hit you like a punch. you froze, staring at him, trying to process the fact that he’d actually said that. rafe’s face was already turned away, clearly oblivious to the way his words had cut through you.

you felt your throat tighten, but you managed to swallow back the hurt, forcing yourself not to react. the last thing you wanted was to give him more reason to see you as a burden. so, you nodded, blinking down at your food, even though you suddenly couldn’t eat a bite.

“sorry,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. but rafe didn’t hear, or maybe he just didn’t care enough to ask you to repeat it. he’d already gone back to his phone, acting like the conversation had never even happened.

that night, you made a decision. if rafe wanted space, you’d give him space. you stopped asking him to go out with you, to spend time together, to do any of the little things you used to enjoy. when he came home late, you didn’t wait up. when he sat down on the couch, you found something else to do. if he wanted room, you’d make sure he had more than enough of it.

at first, rafe didn’t seem to notice the change. he thought you were just busy with work or hanging out with friends, maybe that you’d taken his words to heart. it wasn’t until a few days had passed that he started to feel the shift, the strange, nagging quiet in the air whenever you were around.

you were no longer the warm, lively presence you used to be, filling the silence with laughter, stories, and little gestures of affection. instead, you felt distant, almost guarded, your movements careful, like you were tiptoeing around him. you didn’t smile at him the way you used to; you didn’t light up when he came home. you’d become polite, restrained, keeping just enough distance that he felt it even when he didn’t want to.

one night, rafe came home late, expecting to see you in the living room with a book or a show. but the lights were dim, the place eerily silent, and when he checked the bedroom, you were already asleep. he stood there for a moment, feeling an odd pang of emptiness. he brushed it off, but as the days went by, the feeling gnawed at him more and more, leaving him with an ache he couldn’t ignore.

finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. one night, he found you alone in the kitchen, stirring a cup of tea with your gaze far away. he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched you, his expression unreadable.

“are you avoiding me or something?” he asked, his tone sharper than he’d intended.

you looked up, a flicker of surprise in your eyes before you masked it with a tight smile. “no, i’m not avoiding you, rafe. i just… didn’t want to bother you.”

that word—bother—hit him hard, dredging up the memory of his own callous words. he felt something twist in his chest as he realized what he’d done, how his careless anger had made you feel so small, like you didn’t even deserve to be there.

“fuck,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “look, i’m sorry, alright? i was a complete asshole, princess. i was stressed, and i took it out on you, and i shouldn’t have done that.”

you shrugged, your face guarded, unreadable. “it’s fine. i get it. you’re busy, and i didn’t want to get in your way.”

“Jesus, stop saying that,” he mumbled, stepping closer, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “you’re not in my way. you’re the only person who… who makes all this shit bearable. i just didn’t see it until you started pulling away.”

for a long moment, you said nothing, just staring at him, weighing his words. finally, he took a tentative step forward, reaching for your hand. when you didn’t pull away, he felt a flicker of hope.

“let me make it up to you,” he whispered, his voice rough. “i’ll cancel my plans this weekend. we’ll do whatever you want, i swear. just… give me another chance.”

your gaze softened, and a small, hesitant smile crept onto your lips. “alright. one chance.”

he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up in a tight embrace, his relief flooding through him. you relaxed into him, and for the first time in days, you felt the warmth return, that aching void in your chest slowly filling up again.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, his voice low, genuine. “i swear, i’ll never take you for granted again. you mean too fucking much to me.”

you let your head rest on his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath you, his arms strong and comforting. and as he held you there, you felt the hurt start to fade, replaced by a quiet, growing hope that maybe, just maybe, things would be different this time.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole

[fastandcarlos]

"Will You Be My Dad?" : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

summary: where your daughter wants lewis to take on a new role in her life

“Come on, time for bed,” you smiled, scooping your daughter up off of the ground. 

Amelia let go of a groan as she stood to her feet, looking across at you with a pout. You’d already let her stay up much later than you usually did, treating her seeing as Lewis had come around to visit, knowing how much she loved spending time with him. Lewis couldn’t help but smile as she huffed, calling out to you, begging for a few more minutes with the two of you. 

It still felt like a dream for you sometimes as you glanced at Lewis, watching as he picked up some of Amelia’s toys and placed them back into her toy box. She was never too far away from him, practically glued to his side whenever he spent any time with you both. 

Ever since you and Lewis had started dating, Amelia had relished in it. She was only young when you started dating, she didn’t really know life without Lewis in it, all she knew was that although he loved you, he wasn’t the man that she called dad, despite being the one to raise her. 

As Amelia continued to groan, Lewis quickly stepped in. He scooped her up and carried her into her bedroom, throwing her down onto her bed as she giggled away to himself. 

No matter what the situation, whenever you were struggling Lewis was there to step in. He saw Amelia as his own, he treated her as if she was. She was a part of the deal when it came to dating you, but rather than be an inconvenience, she was the greatest addition which made dating you even sweeter. 

“Are you staying here tonight?” Amelia whispered across to Lewis. 

“I think so,” he smiled, looking back to you to check. “That means I’ll be right here when you wake up in the morning, maybe we could eat breakfast together.” 

Her smile turned up as you nodded in agreement with Lewis. “Will you cook for us? You always cook us the best breakfast Lewis.” 

“I can do that,” he assured her, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. “Although I can’t promise that my cooking will be as good as mummy’s dinner was that she made tonight.” 

You slowly stepped towards the bed, perching down on the end of it. “Lewis can only stay if you promise to get some sleep, we can’t have a tired girl at the breakfast table tomorrow morning.” 

Amelia nodded as she sat herself up and cuddled into Lewis’ side. His arm immediately moved around her frame, pressing several kisses against the top of her head. Your smile was wide as you watched the two of them, wondering once again how you ever got so lucky with the two of them. 

“Maybe soon we can live so that we don’t have to have sleepovers,” Lewis spoke, taking you by surprise. “I’ve got a couple weeks off soon, and I was wondering about asking you and mummy what you thought about maybe coming to live in my house instead.” 

“In your house?” Your daughter, grinned, spinning out of his hold so that she was face to face with Lewis. “Would we stay in your house forever?” She quizzed, bouncing up and down as Lewis’ head nodded, his eyes glancing across at the surprise in your expression. 

It was a conversation that you’d never really had, and never expected to have so soon either, but Lewis’ mind was made up and he knew exactly what he wanted. 

He couldn’t imagine life without the two of you, he hated the feeling of returning home to an empty house. The feeling didn’t compare to the feeling he got when he walked through your front door, immediately showered with love and greeted by his two favourite people, filled with excitement. 

“You’d be able to come up with lots of plans and make your room exactly how you want it.” 

“With a big bed?” She grinned, “and loads of teddies in the room too?” 

Lewis nodded, wanting to give Amelia anything she wanted and more. He spoilt her rotten, one of the perks of not being her parent, even if it did leave him in trouble with you time after time. 

“Are you excited about us coming to live with you Lewis?” She asked him. 

“More so than you could ever imagine,” he whispered, reaching across and taking a hold of your hand. “You two have changed my life, I love being around the two of you, annoying your mummy and tickling you until you’re begging me to stop, that’s my favourite thing to do in the world.” 

Both of you wore wide smiles as Lewis spoke openly, letting you know exactly how big of a role you both had in his life. The sentiment didn’t quite mean as much to Amelia as it did you, your heart was full as he spoke, whilst she still daydreamed about the new, amazing bedroom she’d been promised. 

“If we live together, would we be a proper family? Like mum, dad, and me?” 

Neither you or Lewis knew what to say, looking at each other. Your heart raced, terrified as Lewis stared blankly across at you, not quite believing what he had heard from her either. 

“You do everything that a dad does,” Amelia spoke up, feeling the need to explain herself a little more. “You take care of me, and mummy. You take me to school, help me fix my toys when they break, give me cuddles when I’m having a nightmare.” 

“That’s because I love you sweetheart,” Lewis smiled across at her. 

“I know,” she smiled, “do you think...maybe...will you be my dad?” 

You were nervous for a moment, but luckily the corners of Lewis’ mouth soon turned up. He squeezed Amelia even tighter, scooping her up and sitting her in his lap, scattering a trail of kisses from the top of her head, down and all over her face. 

“I would love to be your dad, if that’s what you want,” he whispered. 

Her head nodded, pressing her palms together. “You’re the best daddy in the world,” she told him, already full of confidence that no one could do a better job than Lewis. 

“Sorry,” you whispered across to Lewis as you met his eyes, Amelia cuddling closer into his chest, “I had no idea she was going to ask you that, I’m sorry if you feel a little put on the spot.” 

“It’s alright, in fact, it’s better than alright,” Lewis quickly assured you, “it would be the biggest honour of my life, it makes us more of a family, doesn’t it?” 

You nodded in agreement as Lewis laid Amelia back down in bed again. “Did you mean what you said about moving in? You really want us to live with you? It’s not something you can just change your mind about.” 

“I’ve never been more confident about anything,” Lewis smiled, “I don’t want to have to sit around and wait to see you guys anymore, I want to see you every day.” 

You stretched across and pressed a kiss against Lewis’ cheek, “thank you for completing our family, I don’t know what we’d do without you.” 

“You’re an amazing mum, with or without me,” Lewis smiled. 

“And you’re an amazing dad too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗