#my own family will be like “why are you here” when i go downstairs every morning. i think its supposed to be a joke but it's not very funny

[bog-witch-blair]

"what did you mean by this"

Absolutely nothing. I am way too dense to intentionally put hidden meaning in my words. and if you were able to find one then that was entirely unintentional. 90% of the time I have no filter between my fingers and my thoughts. I pretty regularly will just say things as I think them.

I try not to be rude or weird or make people uncomfy but it still happens and then I feel bad for weeks on end. I also try not to be blunt and when what I want to say can only be said bluntly then I generally don't say anything or in extreme cases explain that I wanna say a thing but won't for huge fear of it being seen as rude or weird or uncomfy. Which sometimes works other times just pisses others off.

[daycourtofficial]

Come to Bed

Summary: based on this request - a text from Azriel was meant to go to you, but went to his entire family instead.

Author’s note: I loved this idea this was so fun and definitely very on brand for the inner circle tbh

Az: Come to bed :(

It was a short message. Azriel had been sick for two days now, and since meeting you, he can’t remember how he’d just go on during his sick days.

He used to go to work just fine while sick. He’d wear a mask and keep his distance, but he’d be able to go no problem.

But ever since you came into his life, now he was too spoiled when he was sick to go anywhere or do anything. You had insisted that your cuddles would heal him, along with the various soups you made him eat every day.

Honestly? It was a little awesome. If it weren’t for how shitty he felt, that is. You rubbed his back until he fell asleep, whenever he got up to shower you washed his sheets, and you brought him medicine every few hours. He didn’t have to lift a finger, and he was soaking in every moment of your attention.

But now you were downstairs, talking with Elain about something or another. You had told him what for before you left, but his feverish haze had made him forget. He woke up alone, having dozed off in your absence, and all he wanted was you to come back. He had just texted you to come back to bed when his door creak opens.

Azriel pops his head out of the nest he made to find Cassian crawling up his bed on top of the covers, wrapping his arms around Azriel, and spooning him over the covers.

Azriel coughs, “what are you doing here?”

“You asked for me to come to bed.”

Azriel’s head hurts trying to figure out what he means when his door opens once more to Rhysand strolling through the room, lying on Az’s other side.

“Ah, come on Azzy. It’s just like when we were younger,” Cassian tells him, his body heat helping with the chills taking over Azriel’s body.

Azriel sniffles, “we were like eight years old.”

“Well, Cassian hasn’t matured much since then,” Rhysand chimes in, staying on the bed but not too close to Az. He’ll provide some level of comfort with his presence, but he’ll be damned if he lets his brother get him sick.

“Why are you two here?” Azriel croaks, every word hurting his poor throat.

Rhys opens his phone to show him the family groupchat they had, the last message coming from Azriel saying, “Come to bed :(“

Azriel groans reading it, “I’m sure you could guess I sent it to the wrong person.”

Cassian chuckles, causing vibrations through Azriel’s back. He’s too weak to fight Cassian off of him, and the weight of him actually feels nice. Maybe Cassian would make a great weighted blanket after all.

“I never second guess any texts I receive. I assumed you missed me, it has been days since you’ve seen my glorious face.”

Cassian and Azriel continue bickering while Rhysand watches in amusement.

Mor comes in shortly after, bringing a warm cup of tea for both herself and Azriel, handing one mug to him while lounging across the foot of the bed. The tea soothes his throat, and he hates to admit it, but he does appreciate the presence of his family. He had been quarantined for days, trying to keep to his room as much as possible. He had grown quite accustomed to his big, invasive family. Your company was more than enough, but he did miss Cassian’s daily debriefs of his day.

Feyre comes in, taking residence next to Mor, as Cassian tells them all ridiculous versions of how he managed to destroy that building in the Summer Court. Each tale more ridiculous than the last, with Feyre even adding her own absurd version of events.

“I heard that a dragon flew in and Cassian fought it off with his bare hands and the only damage was that one building!”

Their laughter rings in Az’s ears as he closes his eyes, dozing, but not truly asleep.

You were shocked walking back to Az’s bedroom to find both of his brothers, Feyre, and Mor all lounging in bed with him. Azriel perks up at your figure in the doorway, somehow knowing you were there despite his resting state. His voice crackles from his sore throat, “save me?”

You walk in, squeezing yourself between Rhys and Azriel, and your boyfriend melts in your arms, falling asleep quickly as his family still chatters around you.

The next time Azriel wakes up, it’s dark outside, but he’s still cuddled to your chest.

“Hi sweetheart,” you tell him, setting your book down. He practically purrs at you running your hand through his hair.

“Sleep well?”

He presses his face back into your chest. “I would have slept better if they weren’t all annoying.”

You laugh, leaning over to kiss the crown of his head.

“Poor baby with a loving family,” you coo, and he huffs.

“They’re not loving, they’re annoying busybodies. Except Feyre. She hasn’t gotten that bad yet.”

You smile, untangling his hair with your fingers.

“They might be annoying busybodies, but they love you and you love them.”

He squeezes you a little tighter. “I’m sick. I only have so much love to give and it’s all going towards you.”

You laugh, your hand moving down to stroke his back. He relaxes in your embrace, your fingers soothing his clammy skin.

“Okay, you can wait until you’re feeling better to love them again.”

“Deal,” he tells you, eyes growing heavy once more. “Just - don’t tell Cassian. He’ll get upset.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version): Future II

Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You go to Manuelas

TW: using sex to reinforce ideas of low self-worth, mentions of eating disorder

You didn't come to Manuelas often.

It was a bad idea, drinking in the club Olga owned. All of the workers knew who you were, dragged out on staff dinners and in the background of Olga's video meetings.

There's no way you could get in without someone noticing who you were.

It's not that you were banned. If anything, Mami and Olga would probably prefer it if you did your drinking in the safe walls of Manuelas where the staff would call them if you needed a pick up.

It would be fine if drinking was all that you were doing.

But you don't go to clubs for the drinks. In fact, you don't even really like the taste of alcohol all that much. It was a means to an end, getting you tipsy enough to approach someone in the crowd. But that was only if you weren't approached first.

And you were almost always approached first.

It was easy now, a practiced routine.

You'd go into a club, hang around at the bar for a bit before going onto the dance floor where, no doubt, some older woman would come over and offer to buy you a drink.

It was practiced. It was easy.

It was self destructive.

You knew why you came to these clubs. You knew what you came there for.

You wanted it quick and rough. You wanted to be demeaned and talked down to because it made you feel better that you weren't the only one that saw yourself like that.

Hooking up in club toilets with a woman double your age that couldn't care less about you made you feel better at yourself.

You couldn't do that Manuelas.

Or, you couldn't do that at Manuelas on days when Olga or her close circle were skulking around, which was almost every weekend.

The only reason you were here now was because your usual club wasn't open today and after another day of brutal practice with no end in sight, you needed to feel something.

Even if it was some woman's hand around you as she took you hard and rough and whispered filthy things in your ear.

You should go home, you know. You should go home to your Mami and let her wrap you up in a warm hug and let her tell you that you were worth something and that she loved you.

But you were here.

At Manuelas on a day you knew Olga was at home and her closest staff were busy in a meeting in the back room.

Or, at least, they should be.

Alexia sighs as Olga pulls her in through the open backdoor.

"I am old, amor," She says with a small huff of laughter," My old bones cannot take going to the club anymore."

It's a joke, nothing more than teasing and Olga rolls her eyes.

"Not even my club?"

"Well," Alexia says," If it's your club..."

With Jaume at a youth camp for the week and you staying over at your friend's, the house had been blissfully silent and all too empty.

She and Olga had a nice dinner before growing restless. It didn't suit the family, Alexia thinks, to have the house devoid of her kids.

Olga wasn't due to go in to the meeting at Manuelas but that didn't mean she thought going there was a bad idea which was how Alexia found herself there now, nursing a drink in one hand and holding whatever fruity cocktail Olga had chosen in the other.

Manuelas had come a long way from the pop up club it used to be, now boasting several permanent bases in the country. Alexia was still glad though that one thing stayed the same - namely the fact that she got free drinks.

It certainly payed to be the wife of the owner.

Olga's gone off to greet a few people upstairs, despite denying the fact that this was all a ploy to see how the meeting was going.

Alexia's left downstairs by herself and does what she does best.

People watch.

Manuelas is still exactly like it was when it was first opened, a throng of dancers grinding and making out on the dancefloor.

The same as practically every other lesbian club in the city.

There's nothing unusual about it but Alexia still leans against the bar and surveys the crowd.

There's movement (or rather more movement than normal) to the left of the crowd as a pair breaks out of the dancing.

It's hard to see in the low light but Alexia feels a bolt of lightning shoot down her spine before she's even computed what she's looking at.

You're pressed up against the wall, head tilted to the side as a woman kisses your neck.

You're meant to be at a friend's house. That's what you've told Alexia.

You were going over to a friend's house after practice and you would be staying the night.

But clearly, you're not because you're here.

At Olga's club with a woman that is so clearly not your age whispering filthy things to you.

Alexia's moving towards you without a second thought and you open half lidded eyes to look at her.

You jolt suddenly, straightening up and pushing the woman away from your neck when you notice Alexia there.

She's not meant to be here and you look around wildly because you know if Mami's here then Olga's around here somewhere too.

Your face floods with embarrassment and you leave your partner for the evening.

Even now, Alexia's angry face makes you feel like a little girl again. Like that same little girl who sat in her car seat after another failed football training.

Like the same stupid teenager who starved herself to fit into a shirt that Alexia accidentally bought one size too small.

"Mami..." You say, throat bobbing," I-"

"Are you okay?" Alexia asks you, cupping your face," Are you safe?"

"Mami...I..."

"Bambi," Alexia says, her eyes boring into yours," Talk to me. Are you alright?"

"I..." Your throat bobs and you're right back to that little girl again, the one staring up at Alexia as she grins down at you, that stupid teenager that had once sobbed in her arms after hurting your ankle during practice. "I want to go home, Mami. Please take me home."

Alexia looks into your eyes. You're not drunk, maybe a little tipsy but definitely not drunk. You're not high either. No one's laced anything you've taken.

You're still trembling though and your head falls forward onto Alexia's shoulder, to hide the way tears fall down your cheeks.

You don't know why you're crying. You don't know why you're suddenly so emotional.

You'd set out this evening to hook up with someone, feeling so bad and wrong in your own skin that you needed someone's body pressed up against yours to feel good about yourself again.

You still want that. Just not with a partner.

You want a hug from Mami, curled up next to her in bed at home. You want her to hold you and tell you how much she loves you and how she's never going to let anything bad happen to you.

You're an adult now.

You shouldn't feel this way.

But you're always going to be that little girl that craved love from your Mami.

[klausysworld]

I know it's a bit random, but I just had an idea for a Klaus story, which is that Reader goes on a long trip with Klaus and his siblings but they only have one car and Reader has to sit in Klaus lap due to space constraints. Reader and Klaus are kinda friends because she is Elena's little sister, but he often confidently flirts with her, but when she sits on his lap he unintentionally gets hard and that makes him super embarrassed. She notices and he apologizes quietly, trying to make sure his siblings don't notice + smut in the end

According To Plan

The mikaelson's originally ruined my life. They crash landed into an already chaotic town and destroyed it. First Elijah, then Klaus, then Rebekah, then Mikael, then Kol, Finn and finally Esther.

They put my sister, Elena, at risk all of the time and rarely cared about anyone but themselves. They didn't even care about each other...well I thought they didn't.

Klaus and Elijah scared me for a while and put me on edge because I knew I wasn't significant enough to keep alive but when Rebekah ended up out of her coffin and in town, she seemed to take a liking to me and that got be sucked into all of their family drama.

It started because I was the only girl in school that didn't just pretend she wasn't there. Despite her having a clear hatred toward Elena, she hadn't actually done anything harmful at that point so I didn't see why we were being cruel to her first.

I didn't expect to become her best and only friend in town after that day.

Rebekah hadn't ever laid a threatening hand on me, never spoke low of me or used me for information. She genuinely wanted a friend and I could feel that. I wasn't gonna turn her away because she was Klaus's sister, not until she did something that made her awful.

So I stuck about, helped her pick a homecoming dress which she didn't even get to go to which I was not happy about and neither was Klaus which he made abundantly clear when he accused me of hurting her.

I found her a while later in Damon's dumbass basement, knew I couldn't just wake her up without consequences so made a deal with Klaus. Bex's safety for Jeremy''s safety so I could justify it to Elena and her gang. He went with it and everything worked.

Until this stupid fuck decided to stick her back in a coffin and wait it out.

Shit went down when all the Mikaelsons were up and about. Bekah had me at the mansion the night after her siblings and mother were woken. Klaus and Kol were constantly bickering whilst Elijah looked paler than...well paler than usual and very anxious but Rebekah just shrugged it off. She was just happy to have her mother.

And also to throw a ball.

I was forced to get tailored and have a colour theory assessment to figure what colour, style and fabric my dress needed to be. Elena had always been my mother's focus, she was her miracle, her eldest. So Elena got to have her hair styled, nails done, dresses designed and I would sit at home with my hand-me-downs and Jeremy's toys that I'd steal. It was kinda nice to be dressed up and pretty. I had stared in the mirror for so long, picking every detail apart trying to decide if I loved it because it was me or loved it because it wasn't really me at all. That's when Klaus appeared in the doorway.

"Everyone's arriving, love. Rebekah's downstairs greeting people and waiting ever so eagerly for her dreary date but she wanted me to make sure you came down." He explained the situation and I nodded, taking a breath and heading out the room, brushing past him as I did. The door was pushed shut and he fell in step beside me. "You look gorgeous by the way." He muttered and I rolled my eyes.

"You practicing your lines for when Caroline gets here?" I asked and he let out a breath.

"No, I meant it." He argued and smirked to himself as he took my arm, pulling it to wrap around his own and 'helping' me down the staircase.

"Sure you did. But I wouldn't say 'gorgeous' to Caroline. She already knows she is, pick something a little less common." I muttered and his brows furrowed.

"Like what?" he questioned and I shrugged.

"I don't know...maybe like....ravishing" I whispered, dramatically and sarcastically as we got to the bottom and I let go of his arm, spotting Rebekah looking moody. "Good luck" I gave a thumbs up and he hummed.

"You too."

I won't lie, I did laugh when I overheard him actually call her ravishing. Rebekah didn't get it and just complained about how great Caroline looked, to which I just scoffed and told Bex to go look in the mirror and get a reality check.

The whole dance thing came around and I ended up starting with Kol which was way too funny, he would not stop. Klaus did not look amused when we swapped partners and I was spun into his arms next.

"Believe me, love, Kol is not that funny. You're over selling it and inflating his ego." He complained, a level of bitterness in his tone which I was not expecting.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you by laughing?" I asked, scoffing softly as he pulled my waist closer.

"You haven't offended me." He muttered and that was that.

Tense night guys, tense night. Not as tense as Bekah's though when she wound up in Damon's bed. Thankfully, I woke up in my own.

After that night, there was no way I was getting away from that family.

In a few months Rebekah was a better sister to me than Elena and a better friend than the ones I'd had since kindergarten.

So when everything went down with the cure, I wanted her to have it so that she could live the human life that she had always wanted.

I cried for Kol's life when I came home to his remains on my kitchen floor and Klaus trapped in my living room. Caroline and Tyler didn't say a word as I scraped his ashes into a box and in return I didn't give any argument when Klaus bit Caroline. Instead, I just sat on the sofa opposite Klaus, staring into space as I waited for my phone to light up with some good news from Rebekah, hoping she had the cure for herself after Klaus had revealed that there was only one dose.

Faintly I heard Caroline mumbling about Klaus being in love with her, that made me laugh and dying or not, she didn't like that.

"Oh come on...I mean, he's like a thousand years old Care. He wants to fuck you, he likes the chase because when he finally gets you it feels like a win. You think a dance and a date is the same as love? What's Tyler then? Your soulmate? Is Matt too?" I was taunting a reaction really. I was still mad about Kol, we had become pretty good friends and the others new that and didn't care in the slightest. So yeah, I wanted her to hurt. I wanted all of them to hurt but Caroline always made it clear that she was better than me so having the power in that moment felt especially good.

When Klaus finally gave her a drop of blood, she was storming out of my house and dragging Tyler. Klaus only gave me a look and head nod of some sort of understanding before he gestured to the seat beside him and I moved over. I stayed against him until the barrier dropped and he was able to sort his shit out.

Rebekah didn't get the cure, Silas went crazy on everyone and life fell to fuck again.

Just when things got a little better, Rebekah came bursting through the door.

"You will not believe what my twat of a brother has gone and done!" She yelled, eyes wide and borderline shocked.

"Klaus?"

"Obviously! You won't even believe- hybrids can reproduce!" She revealed and I choked on nothing.

"Woah- wait. What has he done now?" I asked and she nodded enthusiastically.

"He got some wolf girl pregnant! They're in New Orleans right now. Keeping the baby! Elijah's there too, convinced they'll be some happy family." She muttered and I stared, completely gobsmacked.

Took a week but eventually she agreed to go too and I was beyond curious as to how this was gonna play out so took my place and kept by them.

People were dying left right and centre, wolves and witches and vampires. It was a war zone 24/7 until the day Hope was born and pronounced dead only she wasn't dead. Never had I ever been so tired. It was like a never ending game of tennis, whacking problems back and forth non stop.

And yet, somehow, no matter who had just been slaughtered, Klaus would have a comment to throw at me. Whether it be as simple as "Who are we all dressed up today for?" on a random Tuesday or as vulgar as "Christ love, do you want the whole city tearing that dress off?" when Bex and I were heading out for a fun mnight.

Touching also became increasingly common. Hands on my shoulders when he's stood behind me or my hips to keep my still. Waist if I needed to be stuck at his side, like if there was a threat, and arm with his whenever there was a dance even when I wasn't his date.

Rebekah had made many comments, Hayley too but I was a firm denier. A very firm denier for years. Years.

Hope grew up to be a far to aware child. In fact she asked at least a dozen times if I was her second mommy because her daddy and I were in love. When I told her we weren't in love, she would raise both brows and say a very sarcastic "Okaaay, whatever you say." And leave me speechless every damn time.

Even Kol was laughing. Wasn't having it.

But that stupid trip was definitely a set up. Not just by Kol or Bekah or Hayley, every single last Mikaelson and their fuckers.

Hope wanted to see the grand canyon. Somehow it became an entire family holiday/trip/plan situation to go to Arizona for a week, maybe visit California and blah blah blah.

We had two five seater cars. And somehow eleven people were going.

The car situation needed to be considerate of how many hours we would be in the cars and how likely arguments were.

"I'm not being in a car with Kol for over twenty hours." Klaus protested immediately and Davina nodded.

"Please don't put me in a car with Klaus." She muttered whilst Kol just grinned.

"I wanna go with Auntie Bekah and Auntie Freya!" Hope chimmed in and both sisters laughed in agreement.

"I can drive one of the cars?" Keelin offered and they nodded.

"Woah, wait." Hayley shook her head. "If Rebekah's there, where's Marcel? He can't be with Klaus or Elijah if we want to make it there without screaming."

I just stared, there wasn't enough space and I technically wasn't family and I wasn't dating or married to anyone there so I was ready to just stay home.

"We can drive with you, Elijah and Klaus?" Keelin replied to Hayley, reffering to both her and Freya who nodded.

"Yeah, then Kol, Davina, Bex, Marcel and Hope can go together and Hope still gets Bex. We can swap around halfway? We'll need to stop and sleep at a hotel or something anyway." Freya summarised and everyone nodded before Rebekah's eyes fell on me, I just shook my head at her to tell her it was fine but once we started our silent conversation others began to take notice.

"Y/N, you'll be in the car with us" Hayley said as though it was obvious.

"Sure but there's no room. You, Elijah, Keelin, Freya and Klaus-"

"Why's my name last?" Klaus interjected and I rolled my eyes.

"-There's ten seats and eleven of us. It's fine, I can stay here and you know...water the plants and stuff." I muttered, glancing around at the neglected, very dead plants.

"Of course not, you have to come." Elijah argued and I was slightly surprised it was him to say anything first though we had gotten closer over the years.

They all started mumbling between themselves before Kol just piped up.

"Oh come on! Just sit in my lap darling, you know I wouldn't drop you" He winked and Davina smacked her lips before delivering a swift smack to the side of his head and relishing in his yelp.

That's when everyone's eyes darted to Klaus.

"Just...sit on Nik's lap." Rebekah shrugged and I was ready to slap this bitch.

"Really, I'll just stay here and see the pictures." I backed out and Klaus frowned.

"What's wrong with my lap, love? You didn't protest to Kol's. I'm a much better option and much safer than a seatbelt." He defended and I sighed.

"Klaus-"

"No, it's decided. You'll be with me."

And that was that. Nothing I said was even heard after that, by anyone I swear.

Which was how I ended up telling Klaus that I was not sitting on his hands.

"Oh don't act like you wouldn't love to feel my hands holding that tight-"

"Klaus. Finish that sentence and I'm gonna smack you before sitting on Elijah's lap." I warned and he shut his mouth with a cocky smirk on his face.

Keelin was driving, Freya in the passenger, Elijah at behind Freya, Hayley in the middle cuddled up to the suited original and Klaus sat behind Keelin with my begrudgingly on his lap. His arms were wrapped round my body acting the same as a seat belt and also forcing my back to be against his chest after I tried to just perch on his knee and he called me ridiculous.

I lasted fifteen minutes of him whispering teasing comments into my ear about other ways we could end up with me on his lap before I had my headphones on to block him out.

We planned to do a stop at the services after five hours, less if Hope needed to use the bathroom or got hungry for something other than the snacks.

I got comfy after the first hour, letting myself relax against him and enjoy the drive. Three hours in he got fidgety and I paused the song to try ask what he was doing but then I felt it.

I don't think he knew my music had stopped when he cussed quietly and tried to move his hips back a bit. I wasn't sure whether shifting would make it better or worse as his cock only seemed to be getting more prominent against my ass.

I glanced to the side, seeing Hayley and Elijah both with headphones in and watching a film on an ipad before glancing up front to Freya and Keelin who were singing along to the radio up front.

Slowly I reached and pulled my headphones down around my neck and cleared my throat softly. He tensed against me and sucked in a breath.

"You okay?" I whispered, making sure to keep quiet and he placed his hand against the side of the car, pushing himself up to sit straighter but it just felt lift he pressed against me more.

"Fuck- sorry" He muttered, his voice breaking a little and he sounded weirdly panicked.

I expected him to make a flirty comment like normal, maybe even get touchy but he was actually...embarrassed?

"It's...okay" I murmured and pulled myself forward so I wasn't touching his crotch. "It's not long till we stop now anyway" I told him as I glanced at the sat nav.

We stayed like that for a while before some cry pulled in front of us unexpectedly and Keelin had to slam the breaks. I felt my body go forward before Klaus's arms pulled my straight back against him before my face could hit the back of the seat in front. My hands grabbed onto his arms as my heart rate spiked with adrenaline and my breathing sped up.

"It's alright love." he whispered against my ear whilst Keelin called an apology back to us. We stayed pressed right against each other regardless of his hard-on.

By the time we got to the services Klaus had nearly thrust his hips at least six times.

He went straight for the bathroom when we got there while I headed for the McDonald’s queue with Hope and Kol.

By the time we were getting back in the car, Klaus looked rough,.

Face pink, eyes refusing to look anywhere other than straight and had most definitely not resolved his problem. That was clear when he sat back down in the car and grimaced to himself.

I sat back in his lap and bit down on my lip. The others hadn't gotten I yet, they were swapping Freya and Keelin for Rebekah and Marcel with high hopes for no tension before we got to a hotel.

"Is there anything I can do to-"

"Please don't offer anything right now." He whispered, his jaw clenching making me hold a laugh. I sighed and turned round in his lap to face him.

"It's not a big deal" I told him and he frowned.

"It's embarrassing and we still have hours." He muttered. Honestly this was the perfect opportunity to tease him like he does me usually but he was actually stressed.

"Klaus, I don't mind. It's flattering, really." I told him gently. "Besides you can't help it, I'm just great." I shrugged and he smiled.

"Mhm, you're irresistible love." he chuckled and I hummed.

"Exactly, anyone would get turned on with my tight ass on their lap." I tease, using his words from earlier to make him laugh but it also made his cock twitch beneath me. My eyes glanced down and it made him shift. "Did you try to uh...get rid of it?" I asked, referring to when he ran to the bathroom.

"I tried to." He mumbled and turned me around so my back was to him as the other doors opened and Rebekah slid in beside us, grinning brightly and leaning over to hug me.

We chatted for the majority of the second half, Bex complained that Kol wouldn't stop singing in the other car and so on. Klaus's hands would clench every now and then if I moved too much or the car jolted but that didn't happen very often with how sensibly Elijah drove.

We got to the chosen hotel a full thirty minutes later than the others because Elijah wouldn't drive a single mile faster than the speed limit.

When we arrived we were only handed three room keys. Kol had gotten himself and Davina a room, Keelin and Freya room, Bekah and Marcel, and then another double bed room and a family room. Hope wanted to be with her mom so she came out of Freyas to go with Hayley and Elijah to the family room and Klaus and I had to share.

It would have been a whole lot less awkward if he hadn't had his erection for the entire day pressed against me but we powered through. Rebekah could be heard giggling to Marcel when they closed their door, waving at me with cocky smiles.

Klaus went straight in the shower so I put the TV on to drown out whatever he was doing (we all know what he was doing). He came out over half an hour later, face still pink as he glanced at me. I couldn't help but look and much to my surprise his cock was still pressing against his sleep pants.

"Klaus-"

"I don't want to talk about it." He mumbled as he got in bed beside me and rolled to face the opposite direction. I sighed quietly and went to the bathroom to get into my travel pyjamas before laying down next to him. The bed was definitely only a queen, we were pretty much touching the whole time no matter how close to the edge I was. I stared up at the ceiling for ages. It was so dark that I could barely see anything but I could tell that he was awake too, especially when he moved round to face me. I turned my head to look at him, my eyes squinting to make out his face with the tiny bit of moonlight that slipped past the curtains.

The silence was loud when his forehead pressed to mine and his eyes closed.

Thoughts come much easier when it's late. All ideas seem like good ones.

So I didn't really consider what I was doing when my hand slipped down to his crotch. He grunted softly when I cupped his bulge through the cotton. I looked down, watching my hand slip under his his waistband.

"Love..." He whispered before a groan left his lips when my fingers wrapped around his cock. My teeth bit down on my own tongue as I took his thickness into consideration. It was so quiet beside his heavy breathing as I stroked him firmly, his arm went around me and pulled me right up against him and his face nuzzled the crook of my neck.

It definitely wasn't a position I thought I'd end up in when this trip was planned but I couldn't say I wasn't enjoying it a bit. I let go of his length and he made a sound that closely resembled a whimper. I licked my hand a few times, coating my skin in saliva before sliding it along his shaft.

"Oh bloody hell" He muttered as his hips jumped up into my hand. I felt my eyes widen slightly at the full feel of him from tip to base. I squeezed him in my hand, feeling a sense of pride at how hard I had gotten him from doing literally nothing.

I felt his hand on the back of my head, pulling me down until our lips pressed together. His skin was warm against min and the sheets ensured that as our mouths moved in sync. His body moved like a wave to thrust his cock back and forth in my grip but I could feel him getting frustrated as he nipped my bottom lip, drawing blood.

I pulled away with a strained moan and squeezed his dick again. "Klaus, you gotta slow down" I whispered but he shook his head.

"I'm close-" he panted, "I just..." his hips kept bucking but I could tell he was struggling.

I opened my hand, letting go of him making him let out an angry cry. I knew he wanted to question me but his words halted in his throat when I moved my lips to his jaw, slowly but surely kissing lower down his body.

He went tense when I reached his cock before both his hands scooped my hair into a makeshift ponytail and I took his head into my mouth. We both took deep breathes for different reasons as he pushed my head down, I could feel my saliva dripping down his length as his head stroked the back of my mouth and teased my throat. I pulled up and his arms relaxed, letting me bob my head along his cock but taking him deeper when he pushed down. My eyes kept closing as I forced myself not to gag. I could taste him getting closer, his tip leaked against my tongue as I rolled it over the top half. His hands tightened their hold on my hair and his thighs tensed either side of me.

He held me down when he came making me gag as warm fluid hit the back of my throat. His hands dug into my scalp and I could hear him groaning as I swallowed it down.

My head shot up with a gasp for air and a soft laugh as he laid back against the pillows taking slow breaths. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and sat up.

I laid back down beside him and silence fell back over us but it wasn't as bad this time.

We must've fallen asleep sometime after because when I opened my eyes it was light in the room and my head was using Klaus's chest as a pillow.

For a second I thought that what had happened was a dream but when I pulled myself up the memories flooded in quickly and I looked down at Klaus who looked all the more ready to fuck me quite simply. Pupils blown, lips parted as he eyed me up and down like a piece of meat.

"Oh fuck." I cursed, running my hand through my hair and getting out of bed. I ignored his presence entirely and went to wash my face and get changed before leaving the room with my travel bag and knocking repeatedly on Rebekah's door.

She finally answered looking disheveled and very clearly just stopped having sex with Marcel but I didn't care.

"Breakfast now." I demanded, grabbing her arm and dragging her.

I wouldn't tell her what happened but she knew something had happened especially when everyone else arrived and Klaus just stared at me. Bekah glanced back and forth three times before raising both brows and sipping her coffee.

He seemed annoyed when I continued to ignore him for the next section of the car ride. So when we got to the services and I headed for the starbucks line, he was ride behind me. His hands were on my hips and I could feel his chest just brushing my shoulder-blades as we stood not so patiently.

"You're acting as though I've murdered your family pet, love." He murmured against the back of my ear making me sigh; I miss when he was embarrassed and quiet. I didn't reply to him and he huffed. "You weren't this rude last night-"

I elbowed him straight in the stomach making him wince before chuckling as his hands slipped round my waist. I wish I could say it made me feel uncomfortable but it just felt right in the most infuriating way. I continued to ignore him as I got to the till and made the order for myself, Bex and Hayley. Klaus got his card in before I could even reach into my pocket and I just went over to the waiting line. He was back on me in a second and pretty much breathing down my neck.

"Why are you being so cold, love? I thought we had a moment...or a few moments." He trailed and I clenched my jaw. He was teasing and it wasn't funny to me. I shouldn't have even thought about touching him like I had. He was my best friends brother for christs sake and I had to see him everyday, he was the worst person to get complicated with.

"You thought wrong." I mumbled and his hand squeezed my hip.

"Don't tell me you help out all of your friends like last ni-"

"Klaus would you just shut up? Last night was really, really stupid." I muttered.

"It wasn't stupid when you had your mouth on my cock, love." He hissed into my ear and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Hated how the tables had turned.

I didn't bother saying anything else to him as I grabbed the drinks and shoved past him.

Back in the car we were both silent, so was everyone else. The tension was built.

When we finally got to the luxury hotel we were staying in I was quick to go to my own room, refusing help with my case and just going to set up for the next few days.

I'd just had a shower and done my hair when my door knocked. I had a robe wrapped round my otherwise bare body when I unlocked the door and opened it only to push it shut again but Klaus's hand caught it and he forced his way inside. "We have a lot to discuss."

"We really don't Klaus." I sighed as I sat down at the vanity.

"First of all-" He stared and I groaned, "last night was a long time coming. Perhaps not the blow job-"

"Klaus!" I scolded, throwing my arms up knowing that everyone's rooms were just behind a couple thin walls.

"-but the whole snapping of...lets say tension. Lets just be honest love, it's not exactly a surprise that we're attracted to each other." He chuckled and I narrowed my eyes.

"Well hold on. You're attracted to me, you're the one who couldn't get rid of his boner for an entire day. If I hadn't gotten rid of it then I would have had to've dealt with it all day today too." I defended but we both knew it was bullshit.

"Oh? So you didn't kiss me? Didn't look me in the eye whilst you wrapped your lips-"

"Why have you always got to make everything a big deal?"

"It is a big deal. I didn't ask you to do that, I didn't even tease the idea. You wanted it, you did it." He was getting angrier and it was worse because I knew I was wrong but I'd gone too far to succumb to that now.

"You could've just gone to sleep but you turned over and gave me that stupid look!" I argued and he scoffed.

"What look?"

"You know exactly what look. Your eyes do that thing."

His eyes narrowed momentarily and he stepped closer. "Oh? Am I doing it now?" He asked and I rolled my eyes.

"No." I muttered but as I glanced back up at him I could feel his gaze intensifying and the blue of them storming over.

"No?" He tilted his head and reached his hand out to cup my face. I clenched my jaw and stared at him uneasily. His fingers stroked along my jaw gently but his grip was rough as he crouched down in front of me to be eye-level.

"Stop it." I whispered but I didn't really mean it and he knew that so when he got closer and pressed his mouth along the length of my neck my protests were almost nonexistent.

"You've been cruel to me all day." He muttered as his hands pushed the fabric of my robe down. "Cold...rude..." He mumbled as he kissed the skin of my cleavage whilst his hands untied the material round my waist so it fell open.

"Klaus" I uttered, slight resistance in my tone as I become exposed to his eyes. I pressed my thighs together so he couldn't see between them as his eyes dragged down my body. His kisses kept going to my breasts alongside his hands.

"Is this stupid too, love?" He chuckled as he glided his tongue over my left nipple making my nerves light up.

"You have to stop" I whispered and he nipped the flesh in his mouth causing my body to jolt and a gasp leaving my throat.

"Why?" He chuckled

"You're Bekah's brother." I muttered and he fully laughed.

"Don't behave as if I was every just Rebekah's brother." He grinned and pinched both my nipples between his fingers making this a whole lot harder. "That second I saw you, I knew I'd have you. From that ball where you looked gorgeous whether you believed it or not...to seeing you hold my child, feeling you wash the blood from my hands, feeding me your blood when I needed it. You've always been mine." As if to make his point he pressed a kiss to my lips and slid both hands to my knees before pushing my legs apart.

I wave of embarrassment hit me but I wasn't strong enough to close them with his hands there. "I don't feel...gorgeous" I whispered, wanting to hide my body from his view.

"Well you should." He uttered back, a firmness to his voice which held no nonsense before his mouth pressed a series of kisses down my stomach before I felt the heat of his lips on my core.

My eyes drooped slightly at the sensation and my fingers slid into his hair, curling around the soft curls as my gaze met his and his tongue slid out from his soft lips to stroke my clit. He licked at me so slowly, heating my body up more and more with each delicate touch. His hands slide under my thighs and guided my legs over his shoulders so I was barely sat on the chair as his face disappeared between my legs and his mouth clung onto my pussy. My grip on his hair tightened and a series of cries left me.

His actions gained speed and pressure whilst he went. I could feel my lower stomach twisting in pleasure, wanting nothing more than to feel the high I knew he could give me.

As my eyes closed, I knew now why Klaus was as cocky as he was. Any man with this much power over a woman would be as cocky as he. I'd never felt so utterly vulnerable and yet completely uncaring for the consequences at once. The knowledge of the fact that his siblings and our friends might hear fell right out of my head as I moaned his name as loud and as often as I could as my body and mind expressed it's raw emotion to his touch.

My body went back and I pressed my hand to the chair to keep myself up as he buried into my thighs and plunged his talented tongue in and out of me without slowing. Heat spilled from inside of me, rushing into his mouth and fuelling him to suck and slurp. The sound brought an unbelievable surge of want through me; my hips ground up against his face and I felt a deep chuckle leave him and vibrate through me in response before he pulled off of me. He licked his lips and swiped his sleeve over his chin before grabbing my thighs again and lifting me up before swinging me round and tossing me down.

I felt the air leave my lungs as my back hit the bed.

He was on me before I could take a breath and the robe was dragged completely from my body. His hands grabbed my wrists and my arms were pinned above my head. I could feel my chest moving up at down, the only sound I could hear was my breathing. His lips were moving but no sound was coming out until a loud banging sound broke my daze.

Within seconds I had a sheet wrapped right round me and Klaus had me gathered behind him.

"Oh for fucks sake- We're going out for dinner! You could have waited-" Rebekah's voice shrieked and I felt hot for different reasons.

"Would you get out- we're coming!" Klaus yelled and Rebekah gagged making him scoff.

I felt him turn to me but I was just staring at the closed door. His hand rubbed down the back of my body slowly before he leant down to kiss my lips firmly but shortly.

"We'll finish this after dinner, I promise you love." He muttered into my ear before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me off the bed and grabbing my suitcase. "Let's get you dressed and get out of here before I somehow lose my clothes too" He teased.

By the time we got out there everyone was stood waiting bar Hayley, Elijah and Hope. I went to ask but Rebekah just grabbed my hand and dragged me. Immediately I went to apologise but she started before I could. "Oh my god! I mean, I thought the car ride would build some tension but I wasn't expecting it to snap so easily- did you two have sex in the hotel yesterday!? Wait no don't tell me ew!" She exasperated.

"No! We didn't...have..sex." I muttered and I could feel her staring.

"I wanna ask but I really also don't..." She whispered and I nodded.

"Good shout." I mumbled and we kept walking ahead of the others. "Hope-?" I questioned.

"Hayley took her to the restaurant early to check she liked the menu, thank god."

"Oh shut up. This is your fault. You planned this." I muttered.

"Well...me and everyone else."

I love that you can just read my moodswings through this as I just didn’t know whether to make it completely fluffy, angsty or smutty. I really loved the request but I’m not really sure I did it justice

[heartpascal]

the crooked kind

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: you were sarah’s best friend, and you reunite with joel years after outbreak day.

▹ — a/n: erm. i love him. again not my best writing but i love this concept sm. also yes now i know there is an audience for father figure joel u will be getting so much of him

▹ — warnings: reader had major family troubles, pre-outbreak & post-outbreak, father figure joel, reader is injured, stab wound, referenced raiders/hunters, bill being hostile as usual, frank being a sweetie

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

25th September, 2003.

After a long shower at the Miller’s house, you got changed and went downstairs to face them, the same anxiety you always felt when this happened arose in your chest. They were in the kitchen waiting for you, matching frowns on both Sarah and her dad’s face. You smiled tightly at them, grabbing the box of food Sarah held out for you.

“Guys, it’s fine! I can’t stay here forever.” You told them lightly, trying to lift the heavy mood that always fell over the three of you when you had to go back to your own house.

“You could! Couldn’t she, dad?” Sarah asked, turning to her dad and knowing the answer before he even said it.

“‘Course you could, kid. You know you’re a part of the family.” Joel supplied, making it even harder to maintain the certain and confident front you always put on when it was time to leave.

You heard the tires of the truck pulling up outside their house, and the truck door slamming shut as Tommy stepped out, his frown matching Sarah and Joel’s, too. He grabbed the box of food from your hand and put it in the bag on your back, clapping a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezing as you smiled at him.

“Time to go,” you said, and rolled your eyes with a watery smile as you looked at the sulking expression Sarah wore, “C’mon, Sar. I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”

Nobody responded to your words, and their silence clearly conveyed their thoughts, but what about tonight? You were all aware of how much your family disliked when you stayed at the Miller’s but sometimes, you’d rather face their anger when you returned than any extra time at your own house. Aside from the people who lived there, you also never knew if there would be any water, which is why you always took a shower before leaving the Miller’s. You’d likely be back by this time next week, but it never made leaving easier.

You had once tried to stay at your best friend’s for longer, going on a few weeks, but when you had returned to your house to grab some more clothes, your parents had kicked off. Shouting, screaming, throwing things, the likes. They had yelled in your face that they would call the police on Joel, say he had kidnapped you, was keeping you away from home.

The last thing you wanted was the man who was essentially your own dad going to jail because of you.

It’s better this way, you had decided, because there was no other way. You were lucky your parents let you out of the house at all at this point. Every time you took a bundle of clothes stuffed into the bottom of your school bag you were chancing your luck, but you just couldn’t help it. Staying at Sarah’s gave you the experience of a loving family that you so badly wanted. A warm house, cooked food, and working water didn’t hurt, either.

“Let’s go, kid.” Tommy said, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want you to go back, either, but neither Miller men were willing to let you walk there. Tommy took you home every time, all of you knowing that Joel was much more likely to snap if your parents showed their faces.

“See you guys later! Happy birthday for tomorrow, Joel!” You waved at Sarah and Joel as you headed out of the front door, throwing a wave behind you and hearing them call out their own goodbyes.

You and Tommy sat in silence for the first few minutes of the drive, before he glanced in your direction, saying, “Listen, if you need anything, give us a call. I’m gonna be out tomorrow but Joel will be about. But hey, you need a bit of extra muscle? I’ll be there.”

You smiled at him, thankful to have such a supportive family who had your back at every turn.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Joel sighed as he gripped the steering wheel in his hand, waiting for his brother to finish up the paperwork he had to sign. When Tommy finally approached the truck, Joel turned to him with a dark look, annoyance clear in the curve of his eyebrows.

“Listen, Joel, I’m sorry!” Tommy told him immediately, reluctantly pulling his seatbelt over his chest and holding his hands up as if he was surrendering. “That fucker said her name and I just snapped, man.”

Tommy must have seen the way Joel’s face dropped, because he felt anxiety warm up in his chest as Joel said your name, his expression telling them both that something was very wrong. He remembered the crease to Sarah’s eyebrows when he had finally gotten home, the way she’d told him that you hadn’t been in school, and she felt like something was off.

“She wasn’t at school today.” said Joel, his eyes almost unfocused as all the possibilities for the why flashed in his mind, he completely missed the way Tommy’s jaw set.

The sound of guns going off in the police station sent both of their heads whirling around in alarm, with Tommy reaching back for the box that was kept under the driver’s seat. “What the…” he mumbled, eyes flashing with the fire that had started across the road. It was when they started hearing the helicopters and dozens of military and coppers swarming the street that the two Miller’s realised something was very wrong. “Shit, Sarah!”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

23rd May, 2013.

Your arm was throbbing with pain, and you were sure something was fractured at the least. Not to mention the warm red blood that was dripping down from your shoulder, basically the only thing providing you with any heat in the all-encompassing cold. Or maybe all the blood leaving you was what was making you feel so cold. You weren’t sure.

It was the first time in a while that you had left your QZ, and you were ambitious, aiming to travel all the way to the Boston QZ with as little trouble as you could manage. Of course, you hadn’t counted on the people, the raiders and hunters who tried to kill you to steal all the supplies you didn’t have. You were lucky to make it out alive, really. You hadn’t felt very lucky for a long time.

It had been at least thirteen hours since you were attacked, and you knew you wouldn’t make it much further. Already, you were feeling lightheaded, woozy, like the ground was reaching up for you, but you powered on, seeing the glint of a metal fence up ahead.

The wiring at the top told you that it was electric, which you wouldn’t have been worried about if the buzzing didn’t echo in your ears, meaning it actually had electricity.

You pushed lightly against where there was a gate, a keypad there to unlock it. These days, you wouldn’t be able to bet on it being a simple 1, 2, 3, 4. Clearly, this was somebody’s home, and they didn’t take lightly to intruders. Your head dropped against the metal, the metal warm from the sun, and you were glad that only the barbed wire at the top was electric.

Your luck clearly hadn't lasted very long, as you heard the sounds of two guns clicking, the safety turning off.

“Who are you?” A man’s gruff voice asked, and you moved your head from the fence to look at the man stood at the front, “What do you want?” His striking blue eyes tore through you, looking for any sign of a threat, but you didn’t pose much of one in your current state.

“Jesus, Bill, let the girl in, she’s gonna die out there!” A friendlier voice called out, approaching the two men already stood in front of you.

“Or, she could kill us in here.” Bill said, eyes not moving from where you stood, narrowing as you put your hands up in a motion of surrendering.

Your eyes fluttered for a second, and you nodded at the man, understanding of his caution. “I—I’m just looking to get to the QZ. Boston.” You spoke, voice dry and cracking, having only been used when you had yelled out at the people who had attacked you, and that was hours ago. You were dehydrated, tired, and hurt. “Could you point me in the direction?”

“She’s not gonna make it that far.” A woman, who you hadn't noticed approaching, said, eyebrows raised as she looked from the other newcomer to Bill. A part of you knew she was right, knew that you probably wouldn’t make it another fifty steps of the way, but god, you’d come this far, and you really didn’t want to die.

“Bill.” The man prompted, eyebrows raised as he gestured toward the gate. “Just let her in, you can always… shoot her if she tries anything.”

“And I will.” Bill threatened, glaring at you even as you nodded in agreement.

“I’m not infected,” You supplied, because it was the best you could do, “Got a nasty stab wound, little while ago.”

Bill grumbled, sending the man who was trying to help you back into the town for something, and he continued his annoyed mumbling even as he opened the gate, tapping in a code and holding his gun up to your head as you took a step forward. You stilled, eyes following him as he approached, gun still raised, and held a tester to your neck, only huffing as it flashed green.

“Come on in, honey.” The kind man said, approaching your side and helping you stumble your way into their safe haven. You swayed, even with his help, and he frowned at you.

“You sure about this, Bill?” asked the other man, who hadnt spoken before now. You hadn’t really taken much notice of him, too focused on the people speaking to you in hopes that the world might show you a bit of kindness.

“Joel?” You croaked out, eyes going wide and your legs becoming numb as you stared at the man in shock. The guns immediately rose back up to your face, and they glared at you suspiciously, with the man who had been helping you stepping aside with one look from Bill, even if it was with some reluctance. “Joel— It’s you, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

They all stared at you, none of them daring to speak for a few moments. The woman stared at Joel, trying to communicate with him through eye contact alone.

“She—she fixed it. Didn’t she?” You said numbly, feeling like you were going to pass out, but unable to take your eyes off of the cracked watch that sat on his wrist. Sarah had told you her plan for his birthday, even if you’d never gotten to see it in action, but it was broken again.

Recognition seemed to seep into Joel’s eyes, and his gun lowered slightly. He said your name like a question, like your face was an answer he couldn’t work out.

In a single moment, his gun was dropped to his side, and he surged forward, pulling you into his arms. You held onto him just as tightly, or as tightly as you could manage with your fucked up arm, and blinked away tears as you squeezed your hands together behind his back.

His hand held the back of your head, keeping you close to him as he let out a breath. “Fuck.” He said, the words watery with tears you were sure he refused to let out. “I was sure you were dead. The houses on your street were on fire, I—…” He trailed off, pulling away to hold your face in his rough hands.

You forgot all your pain for a moment, eyes full of tears from something else, something like relief, “I got away, my—my dad was arrested and my mom went to get him. When I got to yours, you were all gone.”

He swallowed guiltily, eyes looking over your grown face. You looked so different, so… you looked like an adult.

You looked around at the town, wondering which one belonged to the Miller’s, “Where— where’s Sarah?”

Joel flinched, hands squeezing your cheeks once more, before he shook his head, looking away before he pulled you back to him once again.

“Oh.” You gulped, swallowing down the grief you had already felt for the Miller’s that rose back up, trying to sweep you away.

“Can somebody explain what the fuck is going on?” The woman asked, the first of Joel’s group to speak up since your unexpected reunion. She looked between you and Joel and the two men, as if one of you could answer all of her questions.

You looked up at Joel, and he felt like he was going to be sick, the memories of you doing that before the world had gone to shit hitting him like a brick to the face. He remembered the way you would smile at him, a grin that matched Sarah’s, like the two of you were born as sisters, and not just chosen sisters.

“I…” You began, stepping out of Joel’s arms to face the group and explain, but that wave of nausea hit you, the adrenaline from finding Joel seeping from your body, leaving you feeling like you were about to step into death’s doorway. “Okay, um, let me—”

Joel stepped forward, and you fell into him, with him picking you up like he used to do with you and Sarah before. It hit him then, with how you were heavier, and how he hadn’t done this for anyone in years, but he still managed.

“I—I’ll explain, after.” He said, the words echoing in your ears as your eyes fluttered, the last of your long-winded fight or flight leaving you as you rested in your dad’s arms, feeling like perhaps you’d wake up in the bed beside Sarah’s, and everything that had happened in the past decade would have been nothing but a dream. “Frank?” He prompted, letting the man lead him to wherever he thought would be best suitable to patch you up.

That sickening feeling crept up on Joel again, the situation being horribly reminiscent of outbreak day, almost like your weight was Sarah’s own, and his shaking fingers being from fear and not shock. He hated it, that the feeling of regaining a daughter was so similar to the loss of his other.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he followed Frank, and glanced to his side to see Tess, and allowed himself to feel the slightest comfort at the nod she gave him.

Your eyes blinked open, and you looked at him through bleary eyes, “I’ve missed you, dad.” You told him, not missing the heartache in his eyes as he looked at you, but he smiled. It was thin, watery, and barely there, but you saw it.

“Kid, you got no idea.” He sighed out, focusing on getting you fixed up before he could start crying.

[kpop---scenarios]

Maniac (1)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader x Minho

Genre: Mafia au

Warning: Sexually Explict Talk [18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT READ.]

Word Count: 2k

“Y/N.” Your father calls from his office. “Come here.”

Without attitude, and promptly, you quickly leave the book you were reading at the kitchen counter and head down the hall to your fathers office.

“Yes, father?” You say, walking into his office right away.

“Do you have plans tonight?” He asks, never looking up at you. He remains concentrated on his paperwork.

“Ah, no, I don't believe I do.” You answer. “Why?” You wonder.

“You're escorting Mr. Hwang Hyunjin out tonight. His father and I are in talks about marrying the two of you. So spend some time with him and please, put in some effort.” He says. “ I'd like this wedding to go forward.” He says with a sigh.

You were the only daughter he had to marry off. Every other leader in this world had sons, so unfortunately your three older brothers were quite useless to him when it came to merging families.

You had known since you were young what your role in this family was. You knew who your father was, and what he was. You'd been around guns and violence since you could remember, and it's been instilled in you from a young age, when your father asks you to do something, you do it. Without hesitation and without talking back. Your fate has always been signed, sealed and delivered, the only question was to who. Your father currently was in talks with a few other leaders, but it seems the Hwang's have made a significant enough move to have you meet their son.

“Yes father. I'll go get ready now.” You smile, leaving the room and heading up to your own room. You sit in front of your mirror, slowly doing your makeup, trying to make sure everything is perfectly even and sharp. You wanted to make a good first impression. It was important to your father so it was important to you as well.

“Y/N. He's here. Hurry up please.” Your father yells from downstairs. You smooth out the dress you had slipped on as you quickly put on your shoes and grabbed your bag. Nerves flowed through your body as you walked out of your room and down the stairs. As you come into view, you see a black haired beauty standing with your father. His dark eyes, sharp jawline and kissable lips were the first things you noticed. Your breath hitches as you get to the last step. You didn't know this man and here you were a fucking disaster.

“Hwang Hyunjin, this is my daughter, L/N Y/N.” Your father says, motioning between the two of you.

“It's nice to meet you.” You smile. Hyunjin looks you up and down, smirking as he grabs your hand, placing a gentle kiss before letting it go.

“Likewise.” Hyunjin says. He turns to look at your father. “I'll make sure she's safe, sir.” Hyunjin says, shaking your fathers hand. The two of you leave the house, heading out to the car that was waiting for you both. He opens the back seat door for you, closing it once you are in before he walks to the other side. He slides in beside you, leaning forward to speak to his driver.

“The club, please.” Hyunjin tells him, leaning back against the seat. “So, Y/N. Marriage, hey?” He says.

“It looks like that.” You say, looking out the window.

“Do you want to marry me?” He asks you.

“I've known since I was little I'd be marrying whoever he picks for me, so it's not some big shock to me.” You explain.

“So you don't have some secret boyfriend you run out to see late at night?” He asks.

“I've never had a boyfriend.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

“But you've fucked?” He asks.

You shake your head no.

His jaw drops.

“Kissed? You've had to at least have had someone slide their tongue into your mouth.” He chuckles.

Again you shake your head no. His jaw drops even further.

“How?” He gasps. “How can you have never done anything? So you don't know how it feels to have your pussy eaten, how it feels to cum with a cock buried deep inside you?”

You sigh loudly. “I never experienced any of it. Not that I haven't wanted to. But my father has always told me that my future husband won't want someone who sleeps around. Even living this lifestyle, the men want their women pure. So I have just avoided it. Not that I haven't had the opportunity.” You chuckle.

“I can imagine you've had a lot of opportunities, I mean look at you.” He whispers, leaning in closely to you. “This makes me want to do very bad things to you.” He smiles.

You get tingles all through your body as he stares at you, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. You lick your lips as you look down at his. Fuck you wanted to just do it. But you couldn't, it wasn't a guarantee that you were going to marry Hyunjin. There were other families throwing their sons in the ring, and you needed to remain pure for whoever you were going to marry.

Once the two of you pull up to the club, Hyunjin opens the door for you, taking your hand, leading you into the club behind you. The bouncer waves the two of you through, causing groans from the hundreds of people waiting in line to get in. As soon as the two of you walk in, you're hit with the smell of sweat, body odor and liquor. Hyunjin leads you past the bar, past the dance floor, the drunk people making out in the hallway, and you a private set of stairs to an area that clearly not many people are allowed into.

“Ah, a few of my friends are here.” He says, motioning to the table of rowdy boys.

“Gentlemen.” Hyunjin says as the two of you walk over to the table. “This is my future wife, L/N Y/N.” He announces, pulling you beside him. The seven men stop and stare at you, a few of them smiling.

“Hi, Y/N. I'm Seo Changbin, it's nice to meet you.” He says, giving you a small wave. You wave back to him, saying hello to the others.

“I'm Kim Seungmin, very nice to meet you.” Another one says.

Why were they all so fucking hot? Christ.

“That's the L/N Y/N?” One asks. “From the L/N family?”

“The one and only.” Hyunjin says.

“Well, it's a pleasure, Y/N. I just heard tonight that my father has offered quite a bit to your father for us to get married.” The man chuckles. “I'm Lee Know, but you can call me Minho.”

“Oh.” You chuckle. “I wasn't aware of that.”

“It wasn't long ago, so I'm sure your father will be speaking with you later.” Minho smiles, glancing at Hyunjin. “Be good to my future wife tonight.” He says. “Don't do anything you're gonna regret, Hwang.” He finishes, taking a sip of his drink.

“I'll do what I want, Minho. Gentlemen, Enjoy your evening.” He half smiles, grabbing your hand to pull you somewhere a little more private.

“Would you like a drink?” He asks. You nod your head, ordering your favorite cocktail, while you and Hyunjin sit at a little table, huddled away in the corner.

“So.” He begins, taking a sip of his drink. “Looks like I am going to have some competition.” He breathes, leaning into you.

“It looks like it.” You smile.

“You know.. I could just show you why it should be me..” he pauses.

“You know I can't do that.” You whisper, pressing your knees together to try and soothe the throbbing of your clit. Fuck, just because you hadn't had sex before, didn't mean you had no idea what being horny was. You've been horny for years and have almost caved multiple times, but Hyunjin, he was making it harder to say no then it ever has been before.

“I could make you feel so fucking good.” He groans, leaning in even closer, his lips hovering just inches away from yours. You wanted to break the space, you wanted his tongue in your mouth, his fingers, his mouth, his cock inside you. You fucking wanted it all, but if what Lee Know said was true, there was a chance you weren't marrying Hyunjin, and you couldn't do anything if you weren't sure.

“I bet you could.” You smile, turning away to grab your drink, chugging it back. Hyunjin sighs as he sits back in his seat, sipping slowly on his scotch.

“The fact that you're so fucking pure and won't give in is so fucking hot.” Hyunjin groans.

You're about to say something when your phone rings, you check it, seeing your father calling.

“Hi father.” You say, answering.

“Y/N, how has your time been with Hyunjin?” He asks.

“It's been good, daddy.” You say.

“Ah good. Can you please ask him to bring you home, there's something we need to discuss.” He says, hanging up the phone.

“He wants you to bring me home. He says he and I need to talk.” You say, slipping your phone back into your purse.

Hyunjin nods his head, quickly finishing off his drink before he takes your hand, leading you past the men you previously met. You look back, your eyes catching Minho’s and you see him send a small wink towards you, which makes your stomach flutter.

When the two of you are in the car, Hyunjin holds out his hand, asking for your phone. You hand it over to him unlocked and watch as he types his number into it. “Call me, anytime, for anything.” He finishes, handing your phone back to you as his driver pulls up to your house. He takes his finger, putting it under your chin, pulling you close to him. “until next time, darling.” He whispers, his driver opening your door for you. You smile at him, slipping out of the car and heading inside your house.

“Daddy?” You call out. “I'm home.”

“My office, Y/N.” He yells back. You should have known.

“How was it?” He asks.

“It was good. He's very sweet.” You smile.

“Mhm.. well tomorrow you're going out with Lee Know.” He announces.

“I met him tonight.” You say.

“Did you? Huh, his father.. he has a lot of good ideas for how far we can take this merger. I hope it goes well tomorrow. We'll be making a decision soon.” Your father says, putting his glasses back on as he goes back to his paperwork. It was never ending.

“Good night.” You say, walking out of his office.

“Good night, honey.” He mutters. You walk to the living room, seeing your two friends, but also bodyguards sitting there watching a show.

“You guys weren't there tonight.” You announce, sitting between the two. “You always come when I go out.”

“Nah, your dad said you'd be safe with Hyunjin.” Wonho smiles.

“Who I've heard he is fucking crazy protective over things. And especially over women. But that's just the whispers on the street.” Shownu chimes in.

“Have you ever met him before?” You ask, laughing. Shownu shakes his head no. “Then don’t be making comments about people you know nothing about.” You laugh. Are you coming tomorrow?” You ask.

“What's tomorrow?” Wonho asks as you stand up, walking towards the stairs. “Are you going out with Hyunjin again?” He asks.

“No, tomorrow is Lee Know. His father made a..bid I guess, tonight.” You say. They both stay silent, as they nod their heads. They looked like they were keeping a secret from you, but you'd be able to get it out of them eventually.

You head up stairs to your room, getting ready and changing for bed. You'd met Hyunjin and Lee Know only once so far, and though you may not know much about them yet, you were already having a hard time choosing. That night you fell asleep dreaming of how Hyunjin made you feel, and wondering if Minho was going to make you feel the same way.

[pasukiyo]

Hey, ignore if u arent still doing requests but I've had this storyline in my head for ages and I think ur a perfect writer for tom. Basically, the reader is a muggleborn but she attends Hogwarts and it's like half term where they are all home for a break. Shes either avery or lestranges adopted sibling and it's kinda been kept a secret from tom because.. well yknow shes a muggleborn lol(he knows about her now because her adoptive brother had to explain before bringing Tom over) anyways so hes at every or lestranges house for some reason (you make it up) and shes in her room, her adoptive brother needs something so he asks tom to get it from her desk in her room and they preferably have 🌶 time. Sorry if it sounds stupid but I've been thinking about this for ages!!😭

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | tom riddle

tom riddle x f!reader 8,104 words warnings: smut. sort of angst. also lots of prejudice against muggle-borns. read part two here. notes: reader is hufflepuff and muggle-born in this one. summary: every year, the lestranges will hold a christmas party for only the oldest of pure-blood wizarding families. every year you are locked in your room while the party rages downstairs, but everything will change when tom riddle is invited to this year’s party. everything…

 The Lestrange name definitely held some irony, considering how strange the family truly was. The Mother sent an owl at lunch, the rolled parchment dropping onto the plate in front of Tiernan Lestrange. On either side of him sat Clarence Avery and Liam Mulciber, who gazed down at the rolled parchment sealed with the Lestrange family crest with sparkling irises. 

 “Is it for the party, Lestrange?” Avery asked as Lestrange took another bite of his sandwich, dusting his hands off before finally taking a hold of the parchment, untying the ribbon keeping it closed. “More than likely,” he replied as the parchment unraveled, his mother’s handwriting gazing back up at him in inky black cursive letters. 

 ‘To my dearest son,

 Tell your friends they’re more than welcome to join us on Christmas Eve for the party. Invite that Head Boy you were writing to me about too. I am most interested to meet him, since you speak so highly of him. Remind the Girl that she is to not speak of the party, I simply cannot have any more of her kind in the house. I will see you at King’s Cross Station, my darling. 

 With all my love, your mother.’

 Of course, the Girl referred to the Hufflepuff sitting all the way across the Great Hall at her own House’s table, her head down as she ate, so as to not catch the attention of her brother or any of his friends. She didn’t choose this family— and if it were her choice, she’d be far away from them— and neither did they. 

 It was the fault of whomever it was who dropped her onto the Lestranges’ doorstep in the wee hours of the morning when she was only an infant. The Mother had given birth to her son only a few months before, and found the crying baby on her doorstep to be quite a burden. 

 She asked herself why the Mother and the Father even bothered keeping her, for even before they learned of her blood status, they hated her. Perhaps it was to uphold their reputation— taking in a child who wasn’t theirs? It was the perfect foundation for the story of a kind-hearted pure-blood family— how could the Lestranges let that opportunity go?

 Of course, behind closed doors, she was treated less than a family member, some would argue far less than a house elf. She may as well have been a house elf if you ask her. She was treated like how they believed anyone of her kind should be treated— a mudblood deserved to be treated like the rubbish they are, they’d say. 

 Up until she got her Hogwarts letter, she believed them. She believed she deserved to be treated this way, that she deserved to be put through the torture that came with living with the Lestranges. She believed she had filthy blood, demon blood. 

 But all of that changed the second she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Of course, the Lestranges were at first very against letting her attend Hogwarts— mudbloods shouldn’t be taught magic, they’d say— but even they could only take so many letters flying through the fireplace or popping up in the stew before they gave in. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone of her blood status— “you are not to tell anyone of your filthy blood status,” the Father had told her with an accusatory finger in her face. “As far as anyone is concerned, you are pure-blood. So I expect you to act like it.” 

 Her school robes and supplies were not as grand as Tiernan’s, and she wasn’t allowed an owl or a cat or a toad. But she told herself that she would make do with what she had, and she felt at least a little bit grateful that the Lestranges didn’t give her tattered secondhand, even third-hand clothes, even if she knew it was all for the act. 

 When the Lestranges found out she had been sorted into Hufflepuff however, oh, it gave them all the more reason to ridicule and torture her back at home. “Of course the mudblood is in the weakest House,” the Mother would mutter beneath her breath as she and her husband read the letter their son had written. “We were fools to think that old ratty hat would sort her into Slytherin.”

 Tiernan and his friends— they made certain that her life at Hogwarts was just as bad as her life at home. Of course, Tiernan was the only one who knew the truth about her blood, Avery, Mulciber, and the others just tagged along because they found it funny. They loved calling her names, making her trip in the hallways, pulling pranks such as jinxing her school books so that they may not open no matter how hard she tried. 

 And still, she didn’t dare stand her ground, for she knew all too well that the Mother and the Father would catch wind of it, and make certain that she’d be on the first train back to King’s Cross Station. So instead, she dealt with Tiernan and his friends, just like she learned to deal with everything else. 

 But Tom… Tom Riddle was different. 

 Tiernan Lestrange and his friends worshiped the ground Tom Riddle walked on, and it was no secret. She remembered when she first saw Tom, all the way back in the Sorting Ceremony in her first year at Hogwarts. She remembered hearing his name ‘Riddle, Tom’ being called and she remembered watching as he approached the platform, settling himself down onto the stool. 

 She remembered the way their eyes met and she swore her knees turned into jelly when she gazed into those dark ravines he had for irises. And she remembered when the Sorting Hat exclaimed “Slytherin!” hardly before it had even touched a hair on his head. 

 And she remembered how disappointed she felt when she was called up to be sorted, the Sorting Hat put her into Hufflepuff. She wanted to be a Slytherin— she wanted to be wherever Tom Riddle was. 

 In all her time at Hogwarts, she’d never even spoken a word to Tom Riddle. They’d pass each other in the halls, but thanks to her brother, she’d never been given the chance to even tell him hello. And Tiernan made it clear that she never would. 

 So life went on, and she got older. She hoped that over time, she’d forget about Tom. But it was hard when he was made prefect, and when he was given the Special Award for Services to the School, and when he was made Head Boy at the beginning of their seventh and final year. 

 She remembered her fifth year during all the attacks on muggle-borns vividly as if it were only yesterday. She remembered how frightened she was when she realized it was muggle-borns whatever it was was attacking. She remembered the panic she felt when Hogwarts was on the brink of being closed— she couldn’t have that! She belonged at Hogwarts, not out there with the Lestranges where she was treated like vermin. 

 At least here, she could pretend to be someone she was not. 

 Of course Tiernan was no help, always taunting her and teasing her that she’d be next. She remembered when she heard that it was Rubeus Hagrid who had freed the muggle-born killing beast, how although she felt that it could not be Hagrid, she felt a sense of relief when he was expelled, when all the attacks had stopped. 

 And of course it was Tom Riddle who caught him. And of course it just made her admire him more and more. 

 But she would keep her distance. She’d admire him from afar. She couldn’t begin to imagine the torment Tiernan would put her through if he found out she liked Tom Riddle. 

 “Yes! Looks like we’re invited, Mulciber,” Avery exclaimed, pumping his fist. Tiernan rolled his eyes at his friends, “you’re invited every year,” he replied, just as Tom entered the Great Hall, and they fell into silence as he approached. 

 She could see Tom over the tops of the heads of the Hufflepuffs in front of her, and she slowly sat up to get a better look. That was when Tom blinked up and she swore their eyes met, just for a moment, before he settled down into his seat, disappearing behind the heads of the other Hogwarts students. She felt herself flush as she hunched over her plate again, a small smile creeping onto her face. 

 “My Lord,” Tiernan Lestrange nodded as Tom settled himself between him and Liam Mulciber. Tom nodded in acknowledgement as he placed a few pieces of chicken onto his plate, and Tiernan’s gaze flickered from him to the rolled parchment in his lap. “My mother sent an owl,” he said, and Tom hummed in reply, nodding. Still, he said nothing. 

 Tiernan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, and Tom, with his eyes slightly narrower than before, peered up at him, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say. Tiernan turned pink beneath Tom’s stare, and he presented the letter to him, Tom’s dark eyes flicking down to the inky black words on the scroll. 

 “My family, we… we hold a Christmas party every year,” he said, and when Tom glanced back up at him, he flushed again. “And you would’ve been invited! But it’s only for the oldest pure-blood families, and, well…” Tiernan trailed off when he saw the shadow looming over Tom’s already dark gaze, and Mulciber and Avery shifted in their seats uncomfortably. 

 Tiernan cleared his throat again, “but I’ve been speaking very highly of you to my mother. She wants you to come,” he said, his lips curving into a smile. Tom pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he stared back up at Lestrange, handing back the parchment. “Yes, I know. I can read, Tiernan,” Tom said sternly, and Tiernan clawed at his knees to prevent himself from trembling. 

 “Yes… well…” Lestrange said shakily as he rolled back up the parchment, slipping it inside one of his pockets. “…I’d really love it if you come. We’ll all be there— me, Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, Nott— and our families too, so you can meet them all!”

 Tom took a bite out of one of the chicken wings on his plate, placing it back down before wringing a napkin between his hands, gesturing towards Lestrange’s robes with his head. “Who is your mother referring to when she speaks of ‘the Girl?’” He asked, and heat crept back into Tiernan’s cheeks until they glowed scarlet. “Oh, you know… my sister…” he muttered, and Tom’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t she refer to her daughter by name?” Tom questioned, turning his body to fully face Tiernan, his interest piqued. “What does she mean by she ‘cannot have any more of her kind in the house?’”

 The other boys leaned in to hear what Tiernan would say next, and he knew now that there was no way to get out of this. He’d have to tell the truth not only to his friends, but to his Lord. 

 “Forgive me, my Lord, for asking this of you,” Tiernan hung his head and muttered lowly towards Tom. “But I must ask that you promise you won’t tell another soul about this. This goes for all of you, too,” he said towards Tom and the rest of their group. Lestrange gazed into each of their eyes and held contact for a moment with each, to make it known that he was serious. 

 Tom shrugged, “I promise.”

 Tiernan inhaled a shaky breath, before finally saying, “she… as you know, is not my sister,” he began. “And she’s not pure-blood, either. She’s a mudblood.”

 Mulciber, Avery, and the others all leaned closer and broke into a sea of murmurs, “that sure explains a lot. But a mudblood? In the Lestrange family?” Tom remained silent as he stared at Lestrange, beckoning for him to continue. “Her filthy muggle parents left her on our doorstep after she was born. My mother and father took her in purely out of the goodness of their hearts,” Tiernan sat up and stuck out his chest proudly. “And they kept her, even when they learned where she came from. So you see now why she never comes to the party. Mother always tells guests she’s never home for the party anyways.”

 The boys all laughed and ridiculed her while Tom, again, remained silent, staring absentmindedly down at his plate. He wasn’t sure what to think, how to feel. All this time he’d spent watching her, only catching glimpses of her from afar when he felt a gaze on him, watching as she turned away whenever she saw him with Tiernan and the others. 

 All this time he secretly lusted after her, the outcast of her family, the black sheep of the family. All this time he felt some sort of connection to her, all this time he felt he could relate to her because he, too, felt like an outcast. The outcast of the orphanage he grew up in, the outcast of the Gaunt family, the outcast of his muggle father’s family. 

 Tom Riddle never belonged anywhere, but he belonged here, at Hogwarts. And he knew she felt the same. 

 But would things change now that he knew she was muggle-born? Should he feel disgusted with himself now for ever thinking of pursuing her, for ever thinking of taking her in whichever way he pleased? Was it wrong of him to still lust for her, to still think of having his way with her? 

 Tom was clever but this, this he wasn’t sure of. 

 “So where has she been hiding during the parties?” Liam Mulciber asked, and Tiernan Lestrange snickered. “Mother and father force her up into her room. Says they’ll punish her accordingly if they hear even the smallest of noises coming from her room,” he replied, the boys erupting into another fit of snickers. Tom was still silent as he stared at his plate— he suddenly didn’t feel like eating. 

 The next day, she and a group of other Hogwarts students waiting to go home for the holidays gathered at Hogsmeade station, waiting for the arrival of the train. She snuck glances over to where Tiernan and his friends stood together, Tom in the middle of them all. She flushed and turned away when his head began to turn, and she moved to hide herself behind a few of her fellow Hufflepuffs, safe away from Tom Riddle’s view. 

 The train’s whistle echoed as the train emerged, slowing down to a stop before them. She dared gaze back over to where Tiernan stood with his friends as she waited for the doors to open, and when she did, Tom was no longer looking her way. She let herself stare for a little moment longer before she felt someone tap her shoulder, and blinked at the Hufflepuff girl in front of her with brown skin and shoulder length black hair she recognized as Clara Wingrave. 

 “Are you coming?” Clara asked, a furrow in her brow. She blinked and nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat back down. “Yes, sorry Clara,” she mumbled as she followed the Hufflepuff girl onto the train, sliding into the seat opposite the one Clara chose. She sighed as she settled herself into the seat just as footsteps thundered through the train, and she hardly had any time to register what was happening before their compartment door slid open, revealing none other than Tiernan Lestrange, Clarence Avery, and Liam Mulciber, Tom and the other three boys nowhere in sight. 

 Clara narrowed her eyes at their intruders, “hey, go find your own—“

 “Shut it,” Mulciber hissed towards her. “No one allowed you to speak.”

 Clara’s glare hardened as Tiernan leaned down to block his adopted sister’s view, his lips curving into a cheshire grin. Her hands balled into fists, and she suddenly felt the strongest urge to slam them right into that crooked smile of his. 

 “Mother sent the owl this afternoon,” Tiernan muttered, and he needn’t elaborate, for she was already used to the rules she was forced to follow every year during the annual Lestrange Christmas party. “Oh yeah? And let me guess…  I’m not to speak of the party, I’m not to attend the party, I’m to stay up in my room and if I make even the smallest of noises, I’ll be punished accordingly? Is that all?” She asked quietly, so that the girl across from her could not hear. 

 Tiernan scowled and grabbed for her throat, much to Clara’s shock as she shrieked, giving her a firm shake. She pressed her lips closed and gazed into Tiernan’s dark umber eyes as they gleamed with mischief. “You dare give me attitude?” He tsked. “You just wait. I’ll tell mother and father about this and—“

 “—Tiernan? Won’t you leave her alone for Merlin’s sake, the train is about to leave.”

 She along with Clara, Tiernan, and his friends snapped their heads to the open compartment door where the Head Boy now stood, a furrow in his brow. He narrowed his eyes every so slightly, and he looked irritated. She flushed when she saw him and turned away as Tiernan released her, dusting off his clothes. She glimpsed up at him as he turned to leave, not without making sure to flash a dirty look her way over his shoulder before he slid the compartment door closed behind him. 

 “What the hell was that about?” Clara gasped and shook her head in disbelief. “I know it is common for siblings to fight, but that was just absurd.”

 She shook her head as she shifted in her seat, gazing out the window as the train began to move, and Hogsmeade station grew further and further away until it disappeared altogether. 

 “He’s not my brother.”

 The train ride back to King’s Cross Station seemed to go by quicker than usual, much to her dismay. She wished she could stay on the train forever rather than have to go back to living with the Lestranges, and wished that she had an invisibility cloak so that she could hide and be on her way back to Hogwarts within the hour. 

 But, since she didn’t, she sighed as she collected her bag with her few belongings and exited her compartment, stepping out of the train and onto Platform 9¾, where her eyes immediately fell upon the Mother and the Father where they stood, eyes narrowed when they fell upon their muggle-born adopted daughter. She huffed as she made her way over to them, standing beside the Mother with a considerable amount of distance between them. 

 “Where is my son?” The Mother asked through gritted teeth, and she shrugged her shoulders. “He and his friends should be getting off soon,” she replied, not daring to turn to look at the Mother. Sure enough, almost as soon as she finished saying it, there stepped out Tiernan and his friends, Tom Riddle close behind. The other boys left to greet their own parents, but Tiernan and Tom made their way over to where she stood beside the Lestranges, and she flushed. 

 Why was Tom coming over here?

 “Tiernan,” the Mother smiled, drawing her son into her chest for a hug. “And you must be… Tom, is that right? Hogwarts’ Head Boy?”

 She glanced over to where Tom stood, a charming smile plastered his face and she could feel heat creep back up her neck. She turned away from him before he could catch her staring.

 “It is nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Lestrange,” Tom greeted them, shaking Mr Lestrange’s hand and giving the top of Mrs Lestrange’s a polite kiss. “Oh!” Mrs Lestrange giggled. “I like this one. The manners!”

 Tom flashed his best smile but snuck a glimpse over to where the Lestranges adopted daughter stood, her arms crossed over herself as she looked anywhere but at him. He eyed her up and down just as Mrs Lestrange clutched either of his forearms, and he was forced to tear his attention away from the girl behind her.

 “Tiernan here tells me you’re from the orphanage?” Mrs Lestrange asked and Tiernan felt like shriveling away beside Tom. Tom only nodded in reply to which Mrs Lestrange tutted, “how about this? You’re welcome to come and stay with us for the holidays. We’d be delighted to have you.”

 She froze at this and her lips fell agape with the intent to protest, but nothing came out. She knew nothing she said would matter anyways, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being around Tom for the entirety of the holidays. She’d been comfortable leaving him at a safe distance away from her at school, but now she’d have to deal with seeing him at the Lestranges? She simply wouldn’t be able to trust herself being around him for so long. 

 “Thank you for your hospitality,” Tom beamed as Mrs Lestrange fussed over him, leading him away from the platform, and she, the Father, and Tiernan followed close behind. Tiernan made a point of ramming his shoulder into her every once in a while, and it took everything within her to control herself, to not shout or push him away. The Father saw this was happening but did nothing to stop it. 

 It wasn’t longer before they finally entered the Leaky Cauldron and made their way to the fireplace, and they each grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. The Father went first, then Mrs Lestrange, and Tiernan before it was down to her and Tom. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had ever been alone together, and she forced herself to look away as he stepped into the fireplace. 

 Tom was no stranger to her shy nature. He tilted his head to try and get a better look at her, watching as she peeked over at him only to find he was staring, and looked away again. He smiled, exclaimed “Lestrange Manor!” and he was gone, leaving her alone. 

 Soon, she too was back in the Lestrange Manor, and she nearly ran into Tom where he stood just before the fireplace. Her palms instinctively fell onto his back to find her balance, and oh, how she felt she’d explode where she stood. 

 It was the first time she had ever touched Tom, and she truly did not expect him to be so warm. Tom glanced back over his shoulder when he felt her hands on him and swiftly stepped out of her way, feeling her touch lingering on his back where she had touched him. Something ignited within him at that touch, and every doubt he had about still wanting to pursue her seemed to fray away. 

 He wanted her. 

 “Welcome to our home!” The Mother exclaimed with a smile as she dusted off the shoulder of Tom’s coat where some ash had fallen, letting her palms soothe back down all the way to his elbows. “Tiernan will show you where you will be staying. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

 She began to follow Tiernan and Tom as they headed for the staircase leading to the next level, but just before she could, the Mother grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her backwards to face her and the Father. She scowled down at her adopted daughter as soon as she made certain Tom was out of sight and leaned down until they were eye level. 

 “Listen to me, girl, and listen to me good,” the Mother said lowly. “You are to be on your best behavior while we have a guest in the home. You are to stay up in your room for the holidays except for meals, do you understand me, girl?”

 She blinked— normally, she’d hate the fact that she had to stay up in her room all hours of the day, but instead, she felt relief surge through her. At least she wouldn’t have to see Tom, at least she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself in front of him. 

 “Yes, Madam Lestrange,” she said as the Mother released her elbow, and the Father stepped forward, leaning down to eye level.

 “And you mustn’t leave your room under any circumstances during the party tomorrow evening,” he muttered. “If I hear even the smallest of sounds coming from your bedroom, I will punish accordingly and do understand, I will not show mercy.”

 She heard this rule every year, but still to this day, the way the Father threatened her sent chills down her spine. “Yes, Mr Lestrange,” she nodded and when the Father waved her off, she walked as fast as she could towards the stairs, practically sprinting up the steps and down the hallway until she finally reached her bedroom. 

 Tom and the rest of the Lestranges were already in the dining room when she finally bounded down the steps, and he could tell Mr and Mrs Lestrange were using all the self restraint they had within them to not blow up at her, most likely for his sake. He watched as she sat down across the table from where he and Tiernan sat, carefully only placing a small selection of food onto her plate. 

 He glanced back over to where Mr Lestrange sat on one end of the long dining table before looking over at Mrs Lestrange on the other end. Neither paid her any attention, or showed any intention of speaking to her. She didn’t seem to want to talk either. 

 “So, Tom, Tiernan tells me you’re exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Mr Lestrange said, shaking Tom from his thoughts. He forced a small smile as he nodded, wiping his hands on his napkin. “Yes, actually, I wish to become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher one day.”

 She listened as she finished her dinner as quickly as she could, but she didn’t stick around to hear the rest of Tom’s story. She gazed over at the Mother who only nodded that she may be excused before she gathered her plate and hurried off to the kitchen where the Lestranges house elf cleaned. 

 “Thank you for the food, Gimbel,” she nodded at the house elf who only nodded back as she set her dirty plate on the pile of unclean dishes the house elf had stacked on the countertop. She hurried back upstairs where she shut herself in her room, sighing as she fell onto her mattress. 

 All she had left to endure was breakfast tomorrow morning, and she’d be free of seeing Tom for the rest of the day. She rested her arm over her eyes, her heart beating against her chest. She couldn’t believe the boy she’s been pining after since her first year is in her house, staying in only a few rooms down from hers. How she wished she could talk to him, to treat him like a guest rather than act like he wasn’t even there at all. 

 She even, for a moment, wished she was a true member of the Lestrange family, so that she could be treated as an equal. 

 Tom hardly saw her for breakfast the next morning, for as soon as he and Tiernan had entered the dining room, she was seemingly finished with her food, and once again scurried off towards the kitchen as she did the night before. Tiernan scoffed when he saw this as they took their seats on one side of the long dining table, loading their plates with biscuits and bacon and eggs. 

 “I apologize for her… strange behavior, my Lord,” Tiernan muttered to home as Tom took a sip of milk. “She’s always like this, you see.” Tom didn’t care to listen to whatever else Tiernan had to say about his adopted sister. Tom had already made up his mind about her, it was how he’d find the chance to talk to her that was the problem. 

 She seemed to avoid him like the plague, and he knew he more than likely wouldn’t be seeing her at all the rest of the day, since the Lestranges locked her in her room while they hosted their party. Tom was clever, so surely he’d be able to find a way around it?

 But as the time for the party to begin approached, he still came up with nothing. He had no excuse for wanting to see her, and with Tiernan practically breathing down his neck, he hadn’t any chance of sneaking away any time soon. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to see her at all when the party began and Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, and Nott all came rushing towards him and Lestrange. He had no space absolutely no space and no time to sneak away. 

 “Don’t worry,” Lestrange was saying to his friends. “The mudblood is upstairs in her bedroom. Won’t be coming out at all tonight, that one.” The boys snickered as they called her names and made jokes about her, but Tom wasn’t listening. Even though it seemed as if all hope of seeing her tonight was lost, he was still thinking of every possible excuse he could come up with to sneak away. 

 But fortunately, he wouldn’t have to contemplate for much longer. 

 “Blast,” Lestrange cursed, feeling around his pockets. Clarence Avery furrowed his eyebrows as he watched his friend, the others soon joining in. “What is it?” Liam Mulciber asked as Lestrange emptied each of his pockets, coming up with nothing. “Left my damn wand in my room,” Lestrange muttered, and Tom perked at this. Lestrange turned to Tom and stepped closer to murmur close to his ear, “forgive me for asking you of this, my Lord, but I simply do not trust the others. Will you go upstairs and retrieve my wand for me? I can’t go upstairs, mother and father said I need to stay down here.”

 If Tom was the type, he’d laugh and jump up and down at the request. All day he had been trying to come up with some sort of excuse to slip away from the party, and now he finally had one. He cleared his throat and nodded, “of course,” he said to Lestrange before making his way over towards the staircase, but he did not stop at Tiernan’s bedroom door as he passed. 

 Instead, he walked a little further down the Lestranges upstairs hallway, stopping at the last door on the left where she was, the black wooden door the only thing separating him from her now. Tom raised a fist to the door and knocked, and for a moment, it was silent on the other side. 

 Who could possibly be knocking at her door?

 She knew it could not be any of the Lestranges, for they would’ve just burst through the door without any respect for her privacy anyways. It couldn’t be Gimbel either, the house elf never came to her room. She grew weary as she closed her book and set it down on the mattress beside her, clearing her throat before murmuring a low, “come in.”

 She watched as the handle to her door twisted and it swung open, and when she saw who was standing there in her doorway, she felt as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. She’d only ever dreamed of Tom Riddle being in her bedroom, but never before did she actually think he’d really come in here. 

 But there he was. There Tom Riddle stood, closing the door behind him and turning to gaze at her where she sat on her bed, his eyes entrancing as they were dark. Even from across the room, his irises seemed to pull her in like they were magnets and she was metal, and she lost herself further and further into his soul…

 “Forgive me,” Tom said, and she blinked. Those were the first words she had ever heard him direct towards her. “I would not usually barge into a lady’s room like this.”

 Fire raged across her skin, up her neck, and to her cheeks until they were seared with flame. She suddenly had the strongest urge to open the window, wondering if she had broken into a sweat yet or not. 

 She blinked again, and the corner of Tom’s lips curved into a soft smile. He knew he already had her wrapped around his finger. 

 “Your brother thought he left something in here,” he said, gesturing towards her desk against the far wall of the room. “May I?” 

 She could not think of anything Tiernan could have possibly left in her room, but she wouldn’t dare question Tom, so instead she nodded, and she watched as he strode across the room, opening her desk drawers and sifting through its contents. 

 Of course, Tom wasn’t searching for anything. But she needn’t know that yet. 

 “Hm,” Tom hummed, closing the drawers he had opened and turning to face her again, leaning back against the wooden desk. “Perhaps, your brother was mistaken.”

 She felt small underneath Tom’s gaze, and she felt as though she could curl herself into a ball right now and shrivel away. But instead she sat still on her bed, unable to speak, unable to move. Tom chuckled and she pinched her bottom lip between her teeth, mentally cursing herself for being so shy. Typical Hufflepuff, she could imagine her adopted brother sneering. 

 “You know, you should really join the party,” Tom said, hoping to break the ice between them. She soothed the skin of her arms with her palms and rubbed at her elbows, shaking her head. “The Mother and the Father won’t let me attend,” she managed to speak at last, and she gulped down the lump in her throat. 

 Although Tom already knew the answer, he still tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Why is that?” He asked, and she swallowed again, forcing back down the truth. She dropped her head and shrugged, “because I’m different.”

 Tom blinked, and he suddenly felt like he was ten years old again, still living at the orphanage he grew up in. For over ten years, he grew up unlike all the other children, and even at an early and young age, he knew that he was different. It wasn't until Albus Dumbledore came to visit him that he finally understood why he felt this way. 

 It was different in her case, because at least she knew why she was different. But they were still treated the same, like they were misfits, rejects, outcasts. It was then that he understood the connection he felt towards her with a different meaning, that he first noticed this string tethering them together. 

 They had both been lost before, but just like he had found himself, she could be found too. Tom could be the one to find her, for he seemed to be the only one who understood her. 

 Tom’s footsteps permeated her bedroom as he made his way over towards her bed, setting himself down on the mattress beside her. She flinched when she felt the bed dip beneath his weight, and it was then that it occurred to her just how close he was. 

 They had never ever been this close before. 

 “Why are you different?” He asked, gazing down at her as she peered up, their eyes meeting closer than they ever have before. For a moment she said nothing, only continued to lose herself further in the dark depths of the treacherous caverns that were his eyes. He studied her— her eyes, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her lips. 

 It was no secret that she was beautiful, even Tom could admit that. But she was vulnerable, it was clear the moment Tom met her eyes again. And Tom could work with vulnerability. 

 “Well…” she trailed off, contemplating how much she should tell him. Tom’s fingers grazed against her knee and she trembled, her eyes flicking down to his hand and back up to his face. “You can tell me,” Tom said warmly. “You can tell me anything.”

 She blinked. Never before had she heard those words. Nobody has ever wanted to hear her story before, for they all thought they already knew it all by now. She was the child who was left on the Lestranges doorstep as a baby, the child the Lestranges took in to ‘raise as their own’ because they just couldn’t bear giving such a young girl away since they were so kindhearted. 

 So never had she ever thought she’d be given the chance to tell someone about herself, to let someone read her story. But there was something about Tom, and she felt like she could trust him. 

 “I’m… I was left on their doorstep as a baby,” she began, and Tom nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I was… I am muggle-born…” she trailed off, wincing as she searched Tom’s face for disgust, but he didn’t even recoil. He only gazed at her with that same patient stare, waiting for her to keep going. 

 So she did. 

 “They hate me for it,” she added. “For having dirty blood. I’m not sure why they kept me, I could’ve been a Squib or not even a witch at all for that matter. Thankfully, I got my Hogwarts letter when Tiernan did.” She wrung her hands together in her lap, Tom’s warmth drawing her even closer to him. “It certainly didn’t help that I wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.”

 She swallowed the lump in her throat back down again, and Tom let his palm rest on her knee again, his touch warm, like a kiss from the sun itself. She felt relaxed when he touched her, despite how nervous she actually was inside. 

 “They treat me… so bad,” she whispered. “They treat me like I’m nothing.”

 Her voice wavered before it broke, and when it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to continue, the hand that had previously been resting on her knee retreated so that it may instead reach her face. Gently, he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her face up to his, her teary eyes searching his for something, anything she could hold onto. Warmth, comfort, reassurance, hope, anything. 

 So Tom would tell her what she wanted to hear. 

 “You are not nothing,”  Tom murmured, and her lip quivered the longer she stared at him. “You are somebody. Don’t let them take that feeling away from you.”

 She blinked and her brow softened, her vision blurring with tears. She was somebody. Tom Riddle thought she was somebody. 

 And somehow, that seemed to be all she needed to hear. 

 A silence ensued and they only gazed deeper into one another’s eyes. With the grip still on her chin, he drew her near and he leaned down to meet her halfway, his lips pressing against hers softly, as tenderly as he could. He felt the way she shuddered under his touch, as if his kiss was a tranquilizer, and she was becoming limp and pliant, all for him. 

 So he kissed her deeper, he kissed her harder. His tongue was warm in her mouth as she let him reign dominance over her own, her hands shaking as one cupped the side of his face and the other grabbed his bicep. 

 This was what Tom Riddle had been fantasizing about for years. To have her compliant beneath him, to have her completely under his control. He loved how easy it was, how easy it was to have her. Although he’d admit, this connection he felt towards her was growing, and it was growing at an alarming rate. As he pushed her down onto the mattress and trailed his kisses down from her lips to her jaw, he found that his heart burned, as if she had set it aflame, and this feeling was foreign to him. 

 He had no idea what this tenderness he felt was, whether he dared call it love or not. For eighteen years, he was under the impression that he couldn’t love, that love simply just wasn’t in the cards for him, and he was completely okay with that. 

 But this feeling, whatever it was he felt for her, came unexpectedly, and he was unsure whether or not he should embrace it or push it away. 

 For now, he worked at unbuttoning her blouse as he sucked marks into her neck, his tongue swirling around her collarbone. 

 She pressed her lips together to contain her noises as Tom slipped her blouse from her shoulders and down her arms, discarding it down onto the floor altogether. He made quick work of her brassiere, his lips previously kissing her collarbone venturing down between the valley of her breasts, sucking marks onto either mounds of flesh. 

 “T… Tom,” she mewled as he pressed a kiss to one of her nipples, kneading her opposite breast with his palm. He hummed in reply, gazing up at her through hooded lids as he sucked the erect bud, releasing it with a wet pop before doing the same to the other. She squirmed beneath him and squeezed her eyes shut, arching her back up off of the mattress. “T… Tom, I… they will punish me if they hear me.”

 Tom smirked against her skin as he released her nipple from his mouth and kissed down her stomach, past her belly button, all the way to the hem of her skirt. He pushed himself up by the elbows as he hooked his fingers over the hem, beginning to tug them down her thighs. 

 “Then I suggest you stay quiet,” he said simply as he removed her skirt from her ankles, her panties soon joining the sea of clothes on the floor as well. 

 She sank her teeth down into her bottom lip so hard when he placed a kiss just above her aching clit, she feared she’d draw blood. Tom eyed her through his hooded stare as he teasingly dipped his tongue past her folds, testing the waters. He watched as her face scrunched and she kicked her legs, arching her back at just the simplest of touches. 

 So eager, he thought. 

 He soothed her stomach with one of his palms as he pecked her clit, watching the way she trembled and writhed, whining behind closed lips, silent pleading for more. Tears broke past the glossy barrier of her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks like crystals, and he smirked as he pressed his lips down against her heat, sucking her clit as it throbbed and ached to be touched. 

 She threw her hands down on the mattress on either side of her, her fingernails clawing at the sheets as he flicked his tongue up and down her slit, humming at the taste of her nectar on his tongue. She tried to watch as he lapped up the juices spilling down her folds before flicking his tongue against her bud again, but she couldn’t even hold herself up, much less keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. 

 “P… please,” she mewled quietly as one of her hands ventured down between her legs to grip at his hair, and she ground her hips against his face, eager for more. That was when Tom stopped and pried her hand away from his head, and she blinked up at him through her bleary eyes. 

 “Do you want to come?” He asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, shouldering it off of him and tossing it to the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes. She gaped at the sight of his chest, but he grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him, squishing her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question.”

 She trembled and felt her walls clench at his words, nodding up and down. “Yes. Yes please,” she whimpered as he tore his hand away from her face to work on his belt, tossing it and his trousers away until he stood before her completely in the nude, in all of his glory. 

 He was beautiful. And he was already beautiful to begin with but this, she never could have even imagined how he looked underneath the clothes. He wasn’t muscular or built like a statue or even a Quidditch player, but still, his arms and torso were toned, and his cock…

 She could feel her patience slipping away the longer he kept her waiting. She watched as he took a hold of his cock and stared down at her, maintaining eye contact as he gave himself a few pumps, his other hand absentmindedly stroking up and down her slick. She bit down onto her lip as she gazed up at him, watching him in anticipation for what was to come next. 

 Tom leaned back down to her face and captured her lips with his, unable to resist the temptation any longer. He kissed her again and again and again as he slipped inside of her, her moans muffled by his mouth on hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his skin, etching crescent moons into his flesh. Tom broke their kiss and let his forehead drop onto hers as he rocked his hips into her, slowly at first. One of her hands slithered to cup the back of his neck as tears streamed down the sides of her face, never feeling this good in all her years. 

 Tom let his gaze fall upon her face again, her eyelids squeezed shut but her face scrunched in pleasure, every once in a while muffling her sounds by pressing her face into his shoulder. He began to thrust harder than before, her legs wrapping around his waist and squeezing, beckoning him further inside of her. So he fucked her harder, and harder and harder and harder as if he intended to break her, to shatter her into a million pieces. 

 And maybe that was the goal all along. 

 Never has Tom felt this good, never had he felt so intoxicated by another person, and never did he believe he could be so attached to someone else before. Part of him hated it, part of him wanted to throw it away and stomp on it and set it on fire. 

 But the other part of him embraced it, another part of him felt powerful as he fucked into her with reckless abandon, powerful having someone underneath his control. He never imagined another person could feel so good, he never imagined someone else could make him feel so infinite. As far as he was concerned, he was doing just fine on his own. 

 But this was different. This was on a whole other level of power. He felt strong, even when she clenched around him and gushed around his cock, even when he felt himself so close to the edge, so close to releasing himself for another person. 

 He pushed away from from her and groped her chest with one hand, holding onto her shoulder with the other as he fucked her harder than before, without a care for how much noise they were making. He’d make it up to the Lestranges, he’d go down and tell them it was him making all the noise, it wasn’t like they’d punish him. 

 For now, he focused on chasing his release, on the way she felt around him, on the way he was so close to climax he could practically taste it. She sobbed beneath him and her lips fell agape with the intent of screaming his name but he clapped his hand around her mouth before she could as he thrusted again and again and again until finally he released, and warmth surged through her. 

 Tom’s chest heaved and he fell on top of her as she cried, motionless beneath him. Sweat made her skin glisten and tears made her cheeks swollen and sticky, but he found that he admired her all the same. 

 This warmth in his chest was new, and it was a feeling he couldn’t quite place or put a finger on. But if whatever it was could make him feel like he was on top of the world, like he was the most powerful being on this Earth, like he was infinite…

 …then surely he could learn to embrace it. 

a/n; oop this is the longest imagine i’ve ever written 🙈 thank you so much for the request anon! i wrote this one up pretty fast because i really liked the idea, it definitely wasn’t stupid! so i hope this is close to what you’ve been imagining!! and feel free to send in more requests if you’d like! i love writing requests!

| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

@darkmoviesquotespizza 🥹🫶

[russellsppttemplates]

here to request more daniel !! literally just anything with his partner being pregnant x

Cw: reader's pregnant, mentions possibility of body insecurities

"Daddy", Sophia called Daniel as he straightened the blanket at the end of her bed, "yes, honey?", he called back. "Mummy is asking for you", she said as she walked back to your bedroom with him, letting him in first as she sat on the bed.

"What's wrong, love? Do you need anything?", Daniel asked before he even looked at you, "Oh, Y/N", he giggled as he saw you struggle to take out the shirt you had on, "let me help you", he added.

Pulling the fabric away from you and only stretching a few stitches, the three of you giggled as you were left in your bra, "I wanted to help mummy, but for that I'd have to get on the bed and she didn't want me to fall off", she explained.

"It fit well when I put it on this morning! I don't know why it was so hard to take off", you blushed, kissing Daniel's jaw as a thank you before walking to your drawer of bikinis, grabbing the one you would be the most likely to fit in ao you could join your family outside, "your parents, your sister and the kids should be arriving soon, so I'm going to get dressed - I think I can do it on my own now - and then I can help downstairs, too", you smiled, "I'm going to put mine on, too!", Sophia said as she walked to her bedroom.

Daniel took the opportunity to hug you as you tied the straps on your hips by the mirror, "you're so gorgeous", he whispered on your ear as his hands rubbed your baby bump, "I'm in awe of you, every single day", he kissed your neck.

"What's with you? Don't get me wrong, I love all of this, and you do it quite often", you reasoned, "I don't ever want you to doubt about your beauty and your worth", he looked straight into your eyes.

"It's not the first time, you know? This time is different. I know how things work, I know how it is. I'm also aware my body is incredible because, for the second time, it's growing and keeping our baby girl safe and healthy", you smiled. "That's what I like to hear", he smiled back, kissing you a couple of times before he changed into his shorts.

"You look very, very handsome, mister", you complimented, kissing his chest as he didn't bother to put on a shirt, walking into the hallway as Sophia followed you to the garden, leaving her towell by the pool as you heard cars arriving.

"Hello everyone, come on in, come on in!", you said as they greeted you, the bump getting a few consented touches from the kids and your mother in-law, "you're glowing, Y/N", Grace said as she left her things by the sun loungers.

Taking off the cover up you were wearing and folding it in your lounger, everyone's eyes travelled to your uncovered bump as you walked to the pool steps, carefully getting in so your body could get used to the water temperature, Daniel following you inside too.

"Help me float, please", you held your husband's hand, getting ready to let yourself fall on your back and taking his support to do so while you heard Sophia play with her cousins on the grass, not missing your sister in-law telling them to wait a little to get tin the pool ao you could relax, remembering to thank her later.

After a few moments of finding your balance, your bump and chest rose up, poking out of the water while you floated, "does that feel nice, love?", Daniel asked as he made sure you were fine and comfortable.

"She's kicking", you mumbled, Daniel's hands coming right up to feel the movements, "she loves swimming, too! If she's anything life Sophia, she's going to be a little fish, always wanting to spend her time swimming", you said, looking up at him as he made sure you didn't hit the walls, "still feels so surreal", he whispered, "and soon enough she'll join us", you added, "little Alice is going to join us soon".

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

[rafesbunny]

daddy’s money- r.c 🎀

where r feels bad for always using rafes money so attempts to get a job herself

you instantly regretted this, from the moment you put the greasy apron on and tied your hair in a tight ponytail which was sure to leave a dent in your pretty hair when you take it out. but you felt so bad for always using rafes money. if you even glanced at a new bag in a shops window when passing by you could guarantee it would arriving at your house not even a week later. you had sent in your cv to many cafes and little boutiques in kildare, thinking it would be easy money to help support your lavish lifestyle. you have never worked before always using daddy’s money and daddy’s money and nothing could have prepared you for the hell that is the working world.

you got called in to do a trial shift for a little family owned cafe in the town, and you were giddy walking there. rafe would have driven you but you couldn’t tell him what you were doing, he would never have let you go if he knew what you were doing. you would never have heard the end of it, he would’ve asked are you not grateful for all the hard work he does? and how he does all this for you not to work and how you’re practically disrespecting him by doing this. and you are grateful for him but every night before bed when your brain is filled with a million thoughts, you are engulfed by the guilt of always asking for more money from rafe.

as you arrived the boss instantly shoved a dirty apron in your hands, demanding you tie your hair up and that for next shift your freshly done nails need to be gone, and how this wasn’t a fashion show but a business. tears threatened to spill from your eyes, no one had ever dared to speak to you like this, being the kildare princess after all, but you sucked it up reminding yourself on why you are here.

after a few hours, the trial shift was coming to an end and you couldn’t wait to get home, deciding half an hour into your shift that you would never work a single a second ever again, and that you don’t mind living off rafes money now. not hanging around for a second extra than needed, you ripped off the apron and stormed out of the door, speed walking back to tannyhill as tears clouded your vision. all you wanted to do was take off the uncomfortably tight jeans they had you wear and shower off the greasy smell that lingered on your clothes.

tripping over your own feet, you let yourself through the tannyhill doors. a heavy sob escaped your lips which grabbed rafes attention who was sitting at the kitchen island with topper and kelce. “everything all good, kid?” he asked turning his direction to you, eyebrows furrowed. “jus’ wanna be alone!” you screamed back, storming up the stairs to rafes room. you slam the door behind you and collapse onto the bed, tears and mascara staining rafes fresh bedsheets.

downstairs topper asked rafe “yo, your girl good?” “yeah might wanna go check on her dude” kelce inputed. rafe hated when other people got involved with your relationship, so with a sigh and running his hand down his face, rafe got up and made his way to upstairs to you. making his way into his room he saw you curled into a ball on his bed. “what’s happened bun?” but all he got back was a pillow thrown at him and an annoyed grumble. “hey, hey. none of that. tell me what’s wrong” he demanded sternly. he sat down on the bed next to you, leaning up against the head board with welcoming arms encouraging you to come to him. as you snuggled into his side, him wrapping a firm grip around your waist keeping you close, you admitted through sniffles “just feel so bad for always using your money. thought i’d… get a job to pay for my clothes and nails and stuff but they were so mean and made me wear these f - fugly jeans and - and told me i had take my nails off. i’m so sorry rafe!” you cried out the last bit, hiding your face into his chest.

rafe hates seeing his girl getting upset over something he could have so easily prevented, especially when it came to money. “hey kid look at me now” he grabbed your jaw forcing you to look at him through your doe eyes, “never want you to feel like you can’t come to me for money. i do all of this just for you, baby. wanna spoil you, you deserve it pretty girl. trust me, i want you to use my money - daddy’s money.” a slight smile crept onto your face, knowing as long as rafe was around that was all you needed.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Deep Undercover – Timothy McGee

"Rise and shine, Mr. and Mrs. McGee!"

McGee and I jumped awake. We looked at each other and rolled our eyes. "Better hurry, Mrs. McGee. You're going to be late for work," DiNozzo jokingly taunted.

"Do you enjoy this, Tony?" Y/N asked as she got out of bed. McGee quickly looked away as she slipped her robe over her thin tank top and shorts.

"Enjoy what, Y/L/N?"

"Watching us play house?" She teased. "Or are you jealous that you don't get to pretend to be married to Tim?"

Y/N and McGee smirked when DiNozzo instantly stuttered an excuse. "Don't daydream about it too much, boys," Y/N teased as she entered the bathroom and shut the door. McGee's heart jumped into his throat when he heard the shower turn on.

He leaned against the bedrest and ran his fingers through his hair. He and Agent Y/L/N have been undercover as a married couple in a neighborhood heavily owned by Navy families. Gibbs put them here a month ago due to a tip NCIS received about an underground home-grown terrorist group. This group was full of civilian husbands, married to women in the Navy with big careers. Y/N and McGee's job was to make friends with the neighbors and get McGee an invite into the group. Getting an invite means looking like a proud Navy husband with a hint of anger and resentment. They had a plan in place to show that hint but they needed to build rapport with the neighbors first.

While Y/N showered, McGee went downstairs and made breakfast. When she came down, she was now in her Navy uniform.

"You don't have to keep doing this," she chuckled as she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Keep doing what?" He asked as he put the pancakes onto a plate and turned toward her.

"You don't have to keep making breakfast every morning," she smiled as she took the plate from him.

"It's what I would do for my wife," he said. His eyes widened and he quickly added, "If this was real, I mean. I'm just trying to make all of this believable."

"I didn't say it like it was a bad thing," she chuckled. She smirked as she added, "If I was to make this real, I wouldn't have showered alone."

She walked away, fully aware of McGee frozen as her words sank in. She sat at the table and started eating the food McGee made them.

"If this was real, my husband would join me for breakfast, McGee," she called over her shoulder without turning around.

"Right," McGee stuttered. He cleared his throat as he made himself a plate and walked over to the table. He sat down across from her and the two ate without saying anything.

"What are your plans for today, sweetheart?" She asked, putting extra emphasis on the nickname.

"I need to run to the hardware store and pick up a few things," McGee said not sounding so confident. He lowered his voice and added, "Gibbs gave me a list. He thinks I'll run into some of our neighbors at the hardware store."

"We don't have to whisper in our own home, Tim," she whispered. Her voice went back to normal as she continued, "It's a good idea. If I wanted to talk to some of our neighbors, I'd go to the grocery store."

"Why can't I go to the grocery store?"

"Gender stereotypes, my dear husband," she chuckled as she stood up and cleared the table. "They suck but they are what they are around here."

Y/N leaned down and kissed his cheek before doing the dishes. They went through the rest of their morning as they usually do. Soon, McGee walked Y/N out of their house.

"Good morning, Kingstons!"

In the neighborhood, they were known as Kyle and Emily Kingston. Y/N's cover was a flight instructor for the Top Gun program based on her background as a Navy pilot before she joined NCIS. McGee's cover was as a computer forensics professor at MIT. To better sell their backstory, Y/N really did train pilots for the Navy while McGee taught a class at the local college.

The two turned to see the couple across the street waving at them. "The Nelsons," Y/N whispered. "She's a Navy lieutenant who works in IT. He works in some shoe store downtown."

"Morning!" McGee yelled as he raised his hand and waved. He and Y/N turned toward each other and let out small awkward chuckles.

"Show's on," Y/N whispered. She stood on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to McGee's lips.

"Come on, McLoverboy," DiNozzo taunted into their earpieces. "Kiss your wife goodbye. You never know what will happen at training today. This may be the last time you get to kiss Y/L/N."

"I am going to kill him," McGee mumbled as they broke the kiss. Y/N laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Breathe," she chuckled. "He's just jealous he didn't get picked for this undercover assignment. You know how much DiNozzo loves dressing up and acting like someone he's not."

"I still think Y/N and I look more like a married couple than her and McGee," Dinozzo grumbled.

"McGee makes the more convincing husband," Gibbs countered. Y/N just laughed as she kissed McGee's cheek.

"Don't forget to get more of the paint we need for the baseboards," Y/N said, slightly raising her voice.

"I will," McGee said, matching her voice level. "As long as you don't forget to be careful and to make it home alive."

"I always do," she teased as she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. McGee watched as Y/N got in her car and headed to work.

Y/N was gone all day and McGee was home. Gibbs set it up this way so McGee would be the in. The group was made up of mostly husbands whose wives had big careers in the Navy.

While Y/N went to the base to train pilots, McGee did some digging on their neighbors. A little after noon, he decided to go to the hardware store. He walked through the aisles, grabbing the things from the list Gibbs gave him. His phone rang the same time it does every day.

"Hey, you," he answered it.

"Hi, honey," Y/N said sweetly. "How's your day going?"

"Oh, it's great," McGee laughed. "I'm at the hardware store now."

"Good," Y/N chuckled. "Gibbs will smack the back of your head if you forget anything."

"I'm terrified I'm gonna get the wrong wood or finish," McGee admitted. "I still don't get why you want the house fixed. We're not staying long."

"I don't care if the house is. . .Oh," Y/N said, her voice dropping. "If there's a neighbor nearby, try to talk but act as if I interrupted."

"I don't want the roof to cave in either, honey, but. . . We're not. . ."

"I think it's time to get your invite into the group," Y/N said. "Act as if I just told you I have to stay late. Be upset about it."

"Again?" McGee played along. "This is the third time this week, Emily."

"Wow," she chuckled. "Way to point out how many times I've been late. That's evil, McGee."

"Do you have to stay late?"

"What? My job isn't important?" Y/N laughed as she began to play along.

"I'm not saying your job isn't important, Emily," McGee sighed. "But we haven't had dinner together in what feels like months."

"I'm going to stay on the Navy base tonight. I'll run by NCIS and have Abby set things up. I'll be home early tomorrow," Y/N told McGee her plan. "We should move up our final act."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Having it go down when I get back after a night I don't come home can lead to a natural fight between husband and wife. That will draw the attention of the others."

"Whatever you say," McGee said. "Just be safe, okay?"

"You too, Tim," Y/N said, her voice soft.

"Call me when you're. . ." McGee sighed like Y/N had hung up on him midsentence even though he said it after she hung up. "Love you too," he mumbled as he hung up.

"Everything okay, Kyle?"

McGee looked up to see Tyler Nelson, the neighbor they waved to this morning, walking over.

"Yeah," McGee said, clearing his throat. "Emily is stuck at work. Again."

"She stuck at work a lot?" Tyler fished.

"Occasionally," McGee shrugged. "The group of pilots she's training have a mission in a few weeks. According to her, they aren't close to being able to succeed. She's just trying to make sure they make it home alive."

"Still," Tyler shrugged. "You're her husband. She should be there for you too."

"I'm proud of my wife, Tyler," McGee said a little too harshly.

"Supportive but tired husband, McGee," Gibbs reminded.

"But if I'm being honest," McGee continued calmer, "it's getting tough. I know she loves her job. She's good at it. I've seen her in training and I've seen the pilots she's trained. She's good. But. . ."

"But what about you?" Tyler asked.

"Can I be honest about something that will make me sound like a horrible American?"

"Of course," Tyler said, his voice sounding more eager. "I've probably said it too."

"Really?" McGee asked. He cleared his throat and looked around before saying, "Sometimes I hate Emily's job. And sometimes I hate the Navy for taking my wife away from me."

Tyler put his hand on McGee's shoulder and smiled softly. "It's perfectly okay to feel that way, Kyle. I have felt like that time and time again."

He patted McGee on the shoulder before walking away. Once it was clear, McGee took out his phone and sent Y/N one text.

We're in. Tomorrow is a go.

* * * * *

McGee walked out of their undercover house as Y/N's car pulled into their driveway. McGee could see Tyler Nelson watching from his kitchen window.

Y/N wasn't confused when she saw McGee in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. She got out of her car and instantly started to play along.

"What's with the glare?" She asked, not moving away from her car. "Come on, Kyle. It's not like I was at work all night and didn't call you."

"That's not the point, Emily," McGee said, unable to stop himself from glancing at the car. She needed to move. He needed to get her to move.

"Look," Y/N sighed, "I know that I've been working a lot. Their mission is almost over."

When she still hadn't moved closer, McGee decided to walk over to her. He had to move her away from the car.

"Once it is," Y/N continued, "I will request some time off."

"I've heard that before," McGee sighed.

"What if," Y/N smirked as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "I told you this time it would be different?"

"I've heard that before too," he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned in and whispered, "We need to move, Y/N."

"Not yet," she whispered back.

"But. . ."

"It needs to look good, Tim."

"That doesn't mean you need to get hurt, Y/N."

The two pulled apart and it was then that Y/N saw how nervous McGee was. She sent him a smile to try and calm him down. She took his hand and intertwined their fingers.

"How about I make us breakfast?" She offered. They were three steps away from the car when it blew. The blast knocked them off their feet. In order for their plan to work, Y/N needed to be knocked out by the blast.

"Emily?" McGee said, making sure his voice was full of panic. He sat up and pulled Y/N into his chest. He ran his finger through her hair as he tried to get her to wake up. "Emily? Come on, baby. Open your eyes."

"Kyle? Emily? Are you two alright?"

McGee looked to see Tyler Nelson running across the street.

"Tyler, call 911!" McGee turned back to Y/N. "It worked," he said under his breath.

"It worked a little too well," Y/N said through a painful gasp. McGee looked down to see a piece of shrapnel in Y/N's side.

"Your cover is rock-solid," he started to stutter. "We'll get you to the hospital and they will call in NCIS. Vance will send Gibbs. I can handle the rest."

"No," she gasped in pain. "You can't do this alone."

"Tyler Nelson has something to do with all this," he whispered as he gently held her face in his hand. "He's interested in me. This explosion is going to make him come talk to me. I know it. You can stay in the hospital until you're better."

"But Tim. . ."

McGee leaned down and kissed her. He broke the kiss and kept his forehead pressed to hers as he whispered, "I'll be fine."

* * * * *

McGee and Y/N were taken to the hospital. As soon as they got there, Y/N was taken into surgery. McGee waited until Gibbs and DiNozzo came running into the waiting room.

"I thought we told you two to get far from the blast," Gibbs said.

"I tried to get her to move," McGee sighed. "Y/N thought it would be more convincing."

"If what?" DiNozzo scoffed. "She got killed?"

Gibbs instantly slapped the back of his head. "It worked," Gibbs said. "Besides, she's going to be fine."

"Mr. Kingston?"

McGee looked to see a doctor walking over. He jumped up and met him halfway.

"How is she?" He asked.

"Your wife is extremely lucky," the doctor said gently. "There was only one large piece of shrapnel in her side. It didn't hit any of her vital organs. We got it out and sewed her up. We want to keep her here for a couple of days to make sure she doesn't get any mercury poisoning in her blood from the shrapnel."

"Can I see her?" McGee asked.

"Of course," the doctor smiled. "We are settling her into a room now. When she's there, a nurse will come get you."

"Thank you."

McGee turned toward Gibbs, his stomach still in knots. "I'm sorry, boss," he whispered. "I tried to get her away from the car but. . ."

"This wasn't your fault, Tim," Gibbs tried to reassure him.

"Kyle!"

McGee turned to see Tyler Nelson running over. "Are you kidding me?" Tyler scoffed when he saw the NCIS agents talking to McGee. "His wife is fighting for her life and you're already bothering him with pointless questions?"

"It's fine, Tyler," McGee stopped him. "They're NCIS."

"I know who they are," Tyler practically spat at them. He sent Gibbs and DiNozzo one more glare before turning toward McGee. "How is Emily?"

"She's going to be okay," McGee sighed. "They're moving her into a room now. I can see her soon."

McGee walked over and sat in a chair. He put his head in his hands and stayed there.

"We can come back later," Gibbs said, sending Tyler a look before he and DiNozzo left. Once they were gone, Tyler walked over to McGee and sat next to him.

"You okay?"

"No!" McGee said honestly. He stood up and started pacing. "This explosion wasn't an accident. This had something to do with her damn job. Emily has sworn her life to protect the Navy and her country. And how do they repay her?! She gets blown up outside our home!"

To sell the part, McGee kicked a chair over. Tyler calmly walked over and to McGee and lowered his voice.

"What if I told you there was a way to make them pay for this?" He asked, his voice low.

"What are you talking about?"

"What if I told you, you could take things into your own hands and make them pay for not taking care of your Emily?"

* * * * *

A few days later, McGee and the team had successfully taken down the entire terrorist cell. While they arrested everyone involved, Y/N was still in the hospital. The piece of shrapnel that had gotten stuck in her side gave her a mild case of mercury poisoning. Luckily, the doctors caught it before they couldn't reverse it. It took a lot of medication, but they eventually successfully got all the mercury out of Y/N's system.

Y/N woke up to a steady beeping.

"Y/N?" Someone softly gasped next to her. She turned her head to see McGee scooting his chair closer to her bed.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said, her voice soft. "Is the house still standing?"

"Sadly, no," McGee smiled. "We need to move, my dear Emily. Half the neighborhood was arrested. I told you we should've kept looking."

"You got everybody?" Y/N asked, no longer playing along. McGee reached forward and moved some hair out of her face.

He kept his hand on her face and nodded. "The entire cell is gone, Y/N."

"You did it," she smiled weakly.

"We did it," McGee corrected.

"All I did was get blown up," Y/N tried to laugh.

"It was your idea and it worked. When you were in surgery, Tyler came to the hospital and told me all about their group." He stopped talking when he saw how tired she was. "You should get some rest," he said, his voice dropping. "We can debrief later."

Y/N quickly grabbed his hand when she thought he was going to leave. "My husband is allowed to stay past visiting hours," she said, her voice breaking.

"I don't have to play your husband," he started to say but stopped himself. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. Y/N grabbed his face and brought his lips down to hers. He smiled as he deepened the kiss. When he broke it, their faces were inches apart.

"We don't have to play pretend anymore. At least. . . I don't want to. I want this to be real, Tim," Y/N said, tears filling her eyes and her voice breaking.

"So do I," he whispered. He leaned in and kissed her again. This time, when they broke apart, she was smiling.

"I'm so glad Gibbs made you my Undercover Husband and not DiNozzo," Y/N said with a small giggle.

"Believe me," McGee chuckled, "I wouldn't have allowed it."

[vinylfoxbooks]

August 29 - Theatre  | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 766

“Where’s James?” Pete asks, sitting down at the table.

Sirius shrugs, “Apparently they had to stay behind tonight, something to do with their whole theatre thing.” 

Remus hums, “I thought Regulus said that rehearsal wasn’t running long today, the director had to leave earlier than usual.” 

“Dunno. Do we want to go find them?” Sirius shrugs again, “I think Regulus was saying that the director keeps the door to the auditorium and to the outside open when they’re doing rehearsal in case anyone needs to run in and out. We can go through there and give them a visit.” The other two agree and they stand up, heading out of the cafe after ordering themselves and James something to drink -- Sirius also gets something for Regulus since he’s also in that direction and they head off. It’s not a long walk back to the school, the cafe that the four meet at every week just being a couple blocks from it so they’re at the school quickly and have to walk around to the back where the door near the auditorium is, unfortunately, closed. But Sirius is quick to bang on the door -- having been here several times to visit and pick up Regulus -- before Lily is coming out of the nearby classroom and letting them in. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Lily asks, a pencil tucked behind her ear. 

“Came to pick up James and Regulus.” Sirius gives her a charming smile, “What’re you doing, Evans?”

“Props design in the classroom. Just finished talking with director about it, now I’ve gotta put all the ideas on paper and figure it out from there. You were looking for Reg and James? I think they’re downstairs with costumes.” She jerks her chin in the direction of the door that leads to the basement where all the costumes and changing room are. Sirius thanks her and they head in that direction, hands getting incredibly cold from the drinks that he’s holding for himself and James.

When they get down the stairs, they can hear Regulus and James’ voices in another room further down the hallway. And Sirius starts sneaking towards it, intending to scare the two of them. However, as he approaches the door, he stops short when he finally sees the two in the room. James has a couple dresses draped over their arm but they’re standing chest to chest with Regulus, arms wrapped around each other. 

“Oh yeah?” James asks, a small tilt of a smile on their face, “You think that Kingsley could take you from me?”

“I mean, he is playing the love interest.” Regulus shrugs, a small smile on his own face, “I think that he could sweep me off my feet.”

James chuckles, “We both know that casting romances are bad ideas. Don’t you remember what happened between Emmeline and Amelia.” 

Regulus snorts, “That was a mess.” “As you would be with Kingsley. Plus, you like me too much.” ANd with that, James sweeps down to kiss Regulus. 

It’s relatively short and, when they pull away, Regulus rolls his eyes, “You’re lucky that I do. I don’t know how I put up with you.”

“Not the first time that I’ve heard that.”

“Okay, what the fuck.” Sirius says, bursting into the room and watching the two of them break apart suddenly, “What’s happening here?”

“Surprise.” James hums, doing sad little jazz hands, “We’re dating.”

“And that’s why you’ve been hanging back longer than you need to here?” Sirius asks, walking forward and outreaching the hand holding James’ drink, “You could’ve just told me.”

“In my defense,” James smiles, taking it, “We’ve been actually working on costumes, you just caught us at a bad time.”

Regulus nods, taking his own drink from Remus with a small ‘thank you’ and taking a sip before he clears his throat, “Speaking of which, we should probably finish up here soon. Director had already left and Lily was waiting for Mary, who I imagine is here by now.” James nods and the two of them set to work with closing everything up while their friends -- and family for Regulus and SIrius -- stand at the end of the creepy hallway and wait before they’re shouldering their bags and turning off the lights, guiding their friends back upstairs. 

“Did we want to go to the cafe or?” James asks, “I know that you guys were already there.”

“Yeah, we can head back.” Sirius nods, “I don’t really feel like going back home right now.” The group agrees and they head out after saying goodbye to Lily and Mary.

[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

"Did you tell her my name?"

Megumi lives in a flat above the clinic, and has since he was 23. The old vet he'd studied under had lived there for years, right around when he was his age, but as he and his wife got older and their family grew, they needed more space than the little two bedroom provided them.

It's the perfect size for Megumi, though. Well-suited in every way to his lifestyle: large enough that he doesn't feel cramped but still small enough that he can easily keep it tidy, and close to work so he can always quickly pop downstairs to check on any animals boarding overnight—though he does still sleep sometimes on that lumpy couch in the staff room if he's just too exhausted after a long day to climb up the stairs.

The apartment has served him well over the past decade, and he's happy with his little home, a perfect space just for him.

Well, him and Yuuji at present.

"That was soooo crazy."

Yuuji has made this remark roughly forty-seven times in the past two hours since the two of them came upstairs following Nanami, Kota, and your departure from the little clinic. He's downed two thirds of the beers he brought with him, though—and a healthy pour of the whiskey Megumi keeps in his cupboard—so that might be as much a cause as any for the repetition.

Megumi sighs, taking another little swig from his own drink.

It's not like he's completely wrong, either.

Megumi is still reeling from the excitement earlier in the evening, and unsettled by feeling that he can't quite seem to shake in the aftermath. He keeps thinking of the little boy who has his eyes, and of the mother who couldn't meet them.

Why does he feel like he should know you? Like he does know you? Or did, maybe, once.

But try as he might he just can't bring back any memories of you, or where the two of you may have once met. Megumi prides himself on his memory, and his ability to remember names and faces, so why is this the moment that it's failing him? Deceiving him into believing something he knows just can't be true?

Is it because he wants to know you? To know Kota?

No. That's ridiculous. He'd felt dread when Kota had first appeared on the clinic doorstep, convinced it was some kind of haunting or a cruel hallucination.

Yuuji couldn't recall with any certainty that he'd told you Megumi's name, but Nanami could have easily mentioned it at the police station or on the drive to the clinic. Hell, you might have seen his name on the wall when you came in. But none of that explains why you behaved so strangely towards him, so evasive in his presence. He was sure that you were tired after the frightening ordeal of losing your son, but it still didn't necessarily make sense why he was the only one whose gaze you had such a hard time meeting.

"What restaurant does she work at?" Megumi suddenly asks Yuuji, and his friend peers at him over the table they're seated at on the floor of his living room.

Yuuji shrugs. "Nanami didn't say, and when I texted him he said that he's not allowed to give out personal info like that."

"But it was nearby, right?" Megumi asks again. "It would have to be if Kota made it here all on his own."

Yuuji shrugs again, watching his friend's face.

"What's up with you?" he asks him bluntly. "You're being weird."

"No I'm not," Megumi argues, his lips pursing.

"Yeah you are," Yuuji counters. "Weirder than normal, anyway."

Megumi shoots him a weak glare, pushing himself up from the table. He's a little unsteady on his feet, and he looks down at the place where he was sitting once he's risen. He had more to drink than he'd planned on, and it's hitting him now that he's upright.

"I'm gonna wash up and go to bed," Megumi mutters.

"Mind if I crash on the couch?" Yuuji asks, as though his friend has ever once denied him. Megumi waves his hand dismissively, shuffling past his friend in the direction of his bedroom.

After getting ready for bed, Megumi finds himself staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom listlessly. In the other room he can hear Yuuji laughing along to some late night variety show, but that's not what's keeping him awake—having long grown used to it. He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut as though he might be able to will sleep to come to him by force.

He can hear the sound of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump.

Yer still a young fella, Megumi, but ya won't be ferever.

Ba-dump.

Gotta start thinkin' about yer future 'ventually.

Ba-dump.

Settlin' down, findin' yourself a pretty girl, babies.

The old man's cheeks were so red that night that Megumi started to genuinely worry for his health. He remembers trying to sneak a glass of water into his hand in place of his sake, but it never quite worked.

"I don't want any babies."

The old man snorted when Megumi said that.

"No bachelor as handsome as you ever wants babies," the old man replied. "But one day yer gonna wake up next to the girl ya love and realize there's somethin' missin'. Then you'll know whatcha want."

Megumi hadn't bothered correcting him, still too busy processing the opportunity—the enormous, terrifying opportunity—that had fallen into his lap that night. Didn't bother telling him that no girl would change the way his brain is wired, or sway his fire-forged conviction.

"Can I get you two anything else to drink?"

"'nother round of sake!" The old man requested jovially. "We're celebratin'!"

"And what exactly as you gentlemen celebrating?"

Megumi looked up from his hands then, towards the server with the smile in her voice.

You.

An apron tied tight around your waist, and a youthful glow in your cheeks. You were probably a few years younger than Megumi, if he was judging right. Maybe 23 to his 28, or somewhere thereabouts.

"Fushiguro-kun here's takin' over the business!" the old man exclaimed, even though nothing of the sort had been agreed upon yet.

You looked over at Megumi, your eyes meeting for the first time, and he watched as your smile grew.

"Well," you said, a cheerful, easy warmth lilting in your voice, "congratulations."

Megumi couldn't bring himself to say anything in reply.

You laughed a little as his eyes skirted away.

"Your next drink's on me, gentlemen."

Megumi sits straight up in his bed, soaked through in a cold sweat. On the other side of the wall, the variety show is still playing, but instead of laughter he hears Yuuji's rumbling snore.

He clutches at his heart, his fingers shaking as he twists them into the sweat-dampened cotton of his t-shirt.

All he can think about when he closes his eyes is the phantom memory of your smile from that night in the early spring five years ago, and how it looks just like Kota's.

[honeypiehotchner]

baby, please come home (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Merry early Christmas! It’s becoming a little tradition for me to write a Christmas one shot with Hotch every year. This year it’s smutty! (You’re welcome) If you don’t celebrate Christmas, Happy Holidays! And enjoy this one shot full of filth to get you through the end of the year. Love y’all mwah 

Summary: Hotch has been overseas for three months and counting, and now it looks like he won’t be home in time for Christmas.

Warnings: beard!Hotch (yes that’s a warning), mention of marriage, Hotch is a (playful) asshole, smut 18+ only pls minors dni!!!, unprotected p in v (wrap it irl pls i beg), oral (m and f receiving), sleepy sex, cockwarming, lots of teasing, Hotch being pussy whipped as one of y’all said on one of my other fics 🤪

WC: ~3k

Christmas is your favorite time of year.

You have no idea why, since all your family did on Christmas was bicker and fight when you were younger. You received presents that confused you, like chocolate “coal” in your stocking and underwear under the tree (because you didn’t “believe” enough, apparently).

Somehow, through it all, you made it your own. The twinkling lights, the fun decorations, the music that you can’t ever get enough of. It’s nostalgic, for a time you never really experienced, but wanted to so badly. The happy holidays. The happy family around a warm fire.

Now that you’re older and on your own, you make it perfectly catered to you because that’s what you deserve.

This year, that means decking the hell out of the apartment. Especially since it looks like you’ll be spending it alone.

Your boyfriend — well, fiancé, except he refused to corner you into a decision right before he left to go overseas, even though you told him you didn’t feel cornered at all — can’t be here, not like he hoped. He went overseas three months ago, expecting to be back after only three weeks. But his assignment is taking longer than he expected.

Much longer, because now he won’t be here for Christmas. You’re trying not to let it tear you up inside.

It’s not like he can control his assignment. And he’s apologized — profusely — multiple times. So much so that you’ve told him to stop. He’s forgiven. It’s alright. You understand. Christmas can wait. You’ll leave the decorations up (which you do anyway) and Christmas can happen once he’s stateside again. No worries.

It does hurt, but you can’t tell him that. Again, not his fault. And he’s already worrying about so much over there. Not to mention, you only get to speak to him once a week. You’d rather spend that time focusing on good things.

You head downstairs to pick up your package, which is another box of lights. You want lights around every doorway, and around the ceiling in the living room. And a few more strands on the tree. Okay, maybe you should’ve ordered another box.

As you ascend the stairs to get back to your apartment, you think of Aaron’s face, how he’d look at you if he saw these lights. How he’d shake his head with a smile, quietly take everything from you, and hang up the lights exactly where you want them.

You wipe away a stray tear as the elevator doors open on your floor. Unlocking the apartment door, you decide the best way to get through this is blast your favorite Christmas music and put on your comfiest pajamas. Maybe some hot chocolate, too. Maybe a Christmas movie on the TV instead of music. You’re pulling out all the stops.

+++

How the Grinch Stole Christmas plays on the TV while you sip your hot chocolate, gazing around the room. You’ll need to find a chair tall enough so you can reach the ceiling.

God, if Aaron saw you standing on a chair, he’d kill you. One time, you were standing on your desk chair to reach the top shelf of your bookcase, and when Aaron walked in, he promptly wrapped his arms around your body and hoisted you down.

“This is why I’m here,” he had said. “I’m tall enough to reach these things so you don’t have to hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, but you were busy!” you argued.

“Never too busy for you, honey,” he said, grinning as he kissed you, then reached for the exact book you needed.

Before you realize it, you’re grinning too, thinking of this memory. You wish he was here. You know he wishes he could be here, too.

Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so damn important. You wish you could talk to him more than once a week, and at least Skype with him or something. All you’ve been able to do is talk to him on the satellite phone, only when he calls you, because the number changes every so often. And sometimes the calls end unexpectedly, other times he has to go (but at least gets to say goodbye), but regardless, they’re never long enough.

It’s unfair. It sounds childish, but it’s true. It’s fucking unfair.

“Ugh,” you groan, wiping angrily at your cheeks. Get it together. It’s time to decorate. Aaron will be home soon.

You have no idea when. But soon sounds better than eventually.

You set your hot chocolate down and grab the lights, getting ready to turn this place into a damn Winter Wonderland.

Halfway through the movie, you have the lights around the ceiling and are working on tearing open the next box. Next on the list are the doorways. You should have enough for the bedroom, bathroom, office, and spare room doorways. Not sure about the kitchen, though. You might need another box. Damn.

“Damn,” you say out loud when you find a knot in the strand. Huffing, you sit down on the couch to begin the detailing process. It’s always a hassle.

Especially when you have your favorite movie playing, so you keep getting distracted. Eventually, you resign to watching the screen and detangling later. You probably won’t sleep tonight anyway, so you have all night to keep decorating.

Right as your favorite part is on, there’s a knock on the front door.

You’re not expecting anyone, so you ignore it, hoping whoever it was will leave. Or got the wrong apartment, maybe.

But they knock again. Jesus. Fine.

You leave your (second) mug of hot chocolate on the kitchen counter as you make your way to the front door. You lift onto the balls of your feet, looking through the peephole, and—

“What?” you whisper to yourself, fumbling with the deadbolt and yanking the door open. “What? Aaron?”

You leap into his arms, not caring that he’s in the hallway. Who cares? He’s here. He’s home. Finally.

“Hi honey,” he whispers, close to your ear. “I missed you.”

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” you murmur, tears springing to your eyes and flowing freely. You sniffle into his neck, inhaling sharply. It’s really him.

He carries you just inside the door and shuts it, giving you both some privacy. He wraps his arms around you even tightly, exhaling. He’s needed this hug badly for weeks. Ever since he landed over there, really.

You lift your head to look at him, eyesight still blurry with tears. “You’re really you? I’m not dreaming?”

“You’re not dreaming, honey,” he says, then kisses you sweetly. “I’m here.”

“Thank god,” you breathe, pulling him back in for another kiss.

Here is when you notice his face. It’s not clean shaven like it usually is — which you understand. There isn’t exactly time for shaving overseas or even razors available to shave with, you imagine. But it’s…different.

The last time you saw him with a beard is when he had a few days off, and he didn’t shave. But that was a few days. This is…almost three months worth.

“You okay?” Aaron chuckles. You’ve just been staring at his face, with your palms cupping his cheeks.

“You have a beard.”

“I do,” he grins. “Do you like it?”

“Still deciding,” you admit. “I’m so used to you with a clean face.”

“Me too,” he says. “I’m ready to shave, if I’m honest.”

You shake your head slowly.

“No?” he raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Mm,” you pause, your mind running wild. It’s been so long since you’ve hugged him, felt him. Who can blame you for your mind venturing to…other activities. “Reasons.”

“Oh?” he bites back a smile, adjusting his arms around you, widening his legs. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what you’re doing. “What are these reasons?”

“I think you know,” you tease.

“I think you’re being shy,” he teases you right back. “C’mon,” he nods, his jaw moving underneath your palms. “What is it?”

“Just…” you pause, burying your face in his shoulder. You’re still too shy to ask for what you want, especially something like this. It feels so embarrassing.

“Take your time,” he coos. “You know you need to ask for what you want.”

“Can’t you just read my mind this once? Profile me?”

“It doesn’t work that way, sweet girl,” he says. “What is it?”

“I just missed you,” you deflect with a shrug, but nothing can hide the temperature your body has risen to. “That’s all.”

“Mhm,” he hums. “And how did you miss me?”

He’s relentless, and you hate him for it, but you love his shit-eating grin just as much.

“I missed you being inside me,” you admit. “And…” you trail away, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“And?” he presses, though he knows exactly what you mean.

“And…” you try again. “And, I missed it when you— you know. Put your…yeah.”

He laughs, fingers squeezing your hips, massaging soothing circles. “What are we going to do about you being so shy?”

“I’m trying!” you protest. You’ve never been good at wording these things. He knows you so well that you’re used to just letting him take the reins. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, honey, I’m sorry,” he calms down, moving his hands to rub up and down on your arms. “Let’s go to bed.”

You deflate, thinking you’ve ruined the moment. “Bed?”

“Unless you’d rather I eat you out right here, yes,” he says.

You gasp. “Aaron!”

“What?” he laughs. “Come on. I’m not teasing you anymore, let’s go.”

He takes your hand and guides you down the hall to the bedroom. You sulk the entire way.

“You’re an asshole sometimes, you know,” you mutter.

He spins around and scoops you up in one swift movement, plopping you down on the bed just as quick. You squeal once you land, all of it happening so fast. He grabs a pillow and places it under your hips, and you just know this is going to be a long night.

You squirm, though, not uncomfortable by him but impatient. And awkward. It always feels weird after it’s been so long, but only because you get in your head about it. Aaron doesn’t ever make it awkward or uncomfortable. He does the opposite.

He kneels before you, tugging your pajama pants down, taking your underwear with them. He leaves gentle kisses in his wake, covering every inch of your skin until you’re practically on fire.

It’s different with the beard, obviously. A little scratchy, but good. Soft. Arousing in a way you didn’t think about.

“God, I missed this,” he says, mostly to himself as he spreads your legs.

His lips travel further, to your inner thighs and over your mound, but not where you need him. Until he covers you with his mouth in a sudden movement.

You squeak and he hisses, pulling back. “Sorry, honey, I’m— Fuck. Okay.”

“Are you okay?” you ask, mistaking his words for something else.

But when he looks up at you, your stomach flips.

“I’m okay, I’m—” he pauses to smile. “You’re so beautiful, I just— It always gets me.”

“Aaron…” you pout. How is he so sweet when he’s between your legs, with a mouth that sinful? How can honey and desire drip from the same tongue so effortlessly?

“You tell me if it’s too much,” he says. He looks wild, like he’s holding himself back with everything he’s got. “I know you’re sensitive and I might get a little carried away.”

You reach your hand down to ruffle his hair, smoothing it out before messing it up again. And tugging, pulling his head closer to your core. He smirks.

“Go ahead,” you tell him. “Please.”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Ever.

He dips his head and covers you with his mouth, his tongue delving inside of you immediately, his favorite thing to do. It’s different with his beard, but the sensation is far more arousing than it is anything else. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans into you. He loves it when you do that, as if you have a choice. It’s almost always an involuntary reaction to his actions. He knows your body so well, even after time away.

He barely comes up for air before returning, wrapping his arms around your thighs, keeping them open. You buck your hips further into his mouth, crying out when he sucks on your clit. Your toys can’t compare to him. They’ll never measure up to his tongue. Or the way his stubble feels.

One orgasm down and he’s already chasing you toward another. Both of your hands are in his hair, holding on for dear life, and he’s nearly incoherent. Another orgasm rips through your body, leaving your legs shaking as he soothes you with gentle touches.

But it’s still not enough.

You claw at his shoulders until he gets the message and crawls up your body, face to face with you, his beard shiny with the remnants of your climax. His hair is everywhere, all your doing, and his grin is wild as he leans in to kiss you.

“Inside me,” you whine, working on kicking his pants down his legs.

He laughs as he helps you, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down. He barely has time to kick them off with his boxers before you’re gripping his hips, pulling him in. You hook your legs around him and pull him closer, making his arms falter. He feels his head brush against your core and he cusses, leaning his forehead on the bed next to you.

“Come on,” you murmur, still impatient. “I’ve missed you, please, I need you—”

“I know, I know,” he coos, lifting his head to kiss you. “I know. Let me get a—”

“We don’t have time for a damn condom, Aaron, get inside me now.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, and if he wasn’t so sweet, you’d slap the shit out of him.

“Yes, please, I’m serious, can you just— Fuck.” He pushes inside of you in one motion, giving you everything like you’ve asked, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“Better?” he asks, smirking into your neck.

You nod, whimpering, rocking your hips already, begging him to move. So he does.

There’s a certain way that Aaron moves that in unlike any other experiences you’ve had. And maybe it’s simply because he took the time — and wanted to take the time to get to know your body. Now he knows exactly what rhythm you need, whenever you need it, without you having to ask.

Though, sometimes you are impatient and you try to speed things up, the way you hook your heels together and lock him in. His only response is to do as you wish, and wrap his arms around you, between your body and the mattress, to keep you as close to his chest as possible.

“There you go,” he whispers, mouthing at your neck. In between his own heavy breaths, he quietly coaxes you toward another edge. “Let me feel you, honey, let go. You can let go.”

You’re a whimpering mess as you nod, the sensations too much after time away, and yet exactly what you needed. It isn’t long before he works you to your third orgasm, and you cling to his shoulders as you ride out the high.

You always know when he’s about to cum, the way he presses his hips impossibly close to yours, holding himself inside of you as deep as he can. You feel the telltale twitch, his breath hitches, and he collapses.

It’s been a while since he’s let go inside of you, and the consequences will be dealt with in the morning, but right now, it soothes you. Right now, it’s the warmth that you need.

+++

You fall asleep in each other’s embrace, Aaron behind you with his arm draped over you. But it isn’t long before you’re waking up to movement in the bed.

“Sorry,” he whispers into the dark. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“What’s the matter?” you ask, rolling toward him, and when you do, you feel the issue. You can’t help but giggle.

“Sorry,” Aaron sounds embarrassed. “I was just gonna get up, you go back to sleep.” He tries to move out of bed, but you grab onto his arms, pulling him back down.

You shake your head, even though he can’t see. “You’re not going anywhere when I’m right here.” Fully awake now, hungry even. You snake your hand down to his erection, smirking when he hisses as you wrap your hand around him. “I’ve missed this,” you say, moving gently. “Can I?” you don’t need to clarify what you want.

“You’re not too tired?” he asks, but you’re already pushing the covers back.

“Never,” you murmur, stretching out, your mouth now even with his pelvis. You take him into your mouth, humming contentedly. You never thought you’d miss something like this, but you missed everything about Aaron.

His moans are quiet and his hands are gentle against the back of your head, slightly pressing you down further. You don’t mind. If anything, if you were both more awake, you’d want him to hold you down.

Just when you think he’s almost reached his peak, he pulls you off of him. He says he wants to be inside you. You couldn’t think of any place better.

Slowly, with pauses to kiss you because he can’t help himself, he maneuvers you until you’re back the way you were sleeping. With him behind you, he pulls your leg up, placing a kiss behind your ear as he enters you once more.

It’s blissful. He holds you tenderly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you against him as he rocks into you.

After you both reach your highs once again, you fall asleep with Aaron still inside you. Normally he tries to move, but you know he missed you, because this time he only moves closer.

As he kisses your temple, he whispers, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

[patroxlos]

home base . ch5

"friends who fuck things up" - 5.6k words

ultraman: rising (2024). kenji sato x reader

can be read as a stand-alone.

master post. ao3 link.

previous: ch4. "friends who sleep on call with each other"

next: ch6. "friends who are stuck together"

The start of your decade-long situationship.

---

Los Angeles. Ten years ago.

You let out a low whistle as you look out the window to the gorgeous beach view. Not bad for a guest room. The Satos own a stunning coastal property that, while a lot smaller than your own California manor, is homey enough for the mother and son duo. Yet, you always thought that it was too big for the both of them. Maybe that is why the two are making such a big fuss right now, as they finally have another chance to fill in the space with your timely visit.

Tense footsteps approach, and you turn towards the open door as a lanky Ken Sato gracelessly enters and barrels towards your luggage placed at the side of the wall. “ Why did you bring your stuff in here? I said you’re staying in my room!”

“Well Auntie told me—” You were cut off.

“Mom!” He shouts out to the house. “I told you! I have the pullout in my room for her.” He extends the handle of one of your carry-ons with one hand and reaches for one of your duffels with his other.

You hear Emiko Sato shout back from downstairs, faint from the distance. “Don’t you dare make that girl sleep on anything other than a proper bed.”

“Kenji, it's fine. I can hang out in your room but keep my stuff in here,” you reason with him. You try to take your bags out of his hands but he rebuffs you as he lumbers them out into the hallway, his room being nearest to yours and down the hall.

“But it’s been three years since we’ve had you over!” He insists.

Even if he is a mama’s boy, Ken is not immune to engaging in his fair amount of teen rebellion that got him into shouting matches with his equally hotheaded mother. You know exactly who he inherited most of his personality from. Rapid footsteps climb the stairs and your Auntie Emiko reaches the two of you in the hallway. “ Kenji Sato !”

You both wince at the full name. Still, Ken pushes open his bedroom door as you attempt to trail behind. “Mom, she doesn’t even mind. Right, dude?”

“I…guess?” You do not want to get in the middle of this. You are so, so jetlagged you want to take a shower and crash on any bed available.

Sensing your fatigue, Auntie Emiko pats both of your shoulders lovingly from behind. She stops you from entering his room and leads you back out to the hallway. “So glad you’re back here, dear. You can go ahead and shower in the guest room. I will take your things back once I’m done here.”

Before you can even say thank you, she enters Kenji’s room and closes the door behind them. You wince as you hear another argument start up.

“Mom, we used to share a room all the time! I don’t get why it’s such a problem now.”

“Kenji, the last time you two shared a room was when you were kids! Don’t you think she deserves her own space as a young lady?”

“Then I can sleep on the pullout and she can get the bed!”

“It’s still inappropriate for two teenagers to share—”

“Ugh you’re being so unfair! You’re acting like we’ll do something—”

You decide to walk away and take that shower.

Ever since Emiko and Ken Sato relocated to Los Angeles when you were just six years old, you have visited them almost every year with your parents. Your summer and winter vacations with them significantly help you and Ken maintain your easygoing friendship beyond messages and video calls. It feels good when the two of you are in the same timezone.

Unfortunately, you have not visited them since you were twelve years old. Three whole years without seeing each other has caused you and Ken to drift a little, with him getting sourer every summer break when you tell him you don’t think you could make it. Your parents got busier, and even if the Satos are family friends, it does not mean you wanted to spend every vacation at the States. Finally, you are old enough for your parents to trust you to fly alone, and at sixteen, you are picked up from the airport by your much taller childhood friend.

You absentmindedly think about how much has changed yet stayed the same about Ken as you rifle through your remaining belongings in your guest room, looking for your toiletries and pajamas to change into.

His height definitely took you by surprise. He was shorter than you the last time you saw him, by a half inch. Now, you have to look up when you talk to him, which you know for a fact that he has noticed, based on his smug look at the airport. He is definitely a lot more cocky than you remember, given his status as a baseball prodigy. You wonder whether he stopped getting bullied at school, and if his newfound confidence emerged from it. While he never gave details in his correspondence over the years, you just know that he “has it handled.”

Even if you never lost touch the past couple of years, it only hit you when you came face to face with him that he really has changed a lot. He is no longer as hyperactive as he was when he was younger. He is now more…aloof, with a bit of brooding. His ears are pierced to bear his new signature black studs. Hell, you may not have realized he was happy to have you here if not for his insistence for a sleepover.

It is disarming to shower in a place so familiar yet alien to you now. Maybe…visiting is a mistake.

It has been some time since the two of you had seen each other. What if you do not click anymore? Of course you have made new friends in his absence, and based on his life updates, so has he. He has even mentioned a girlfriend to you a few months ago, which you were a little surprised by. The title of best friend between the two of you feels decorative, with no real fondness behind it. You are scared that one way or another, it will be made apparent in this vacation that the two of you do not fit the way you did anymore.

As you finish your shower and leave the bathroom clad in your pajamas, you see Kenji grabbing some more of your bags from the floor of the guest room. You say “Dude, I really don’t want your ‘ma to get high blood pressure. I’m fine in this room.”

“She finally said it’s okay!” He grins at you, lifting up your bags with no difficulty. You have noticed he got a lot buffer at sixteen. His shirt, which he has definitely already outgrown, stretches out against his chest. Must be all the varsity training.

“Really? How did you manage that?” You dry your hair with a towel as you follow him to his room.

“She got tired of arguing and went to the farmer’s market.”

“...Well that would do it.”

You are sure his room is meant to be the master bedroom of the house, given how you marvel at its size when you get to properly enter. It is much like Auntie Emiko to give her son the best. He hurriedly brings your belongings into a walk-in closet, and when you enter his bathroom to drop your damp towel in the hamper you notice there are two sinks.

Still, it was very much a teenage boy’s room, based on his blue bedsheets stretching out over the king-sized bed and the gaming consoles under his flatscreen TV. You nearly trip over one of his baseball gloves as you marvel at a poster of Hideki Matsui on one wall, in his Giants jersey. You also spot a signed Matsui baseball card from his time with the Yankees, framed on a side table. 

“Whoops— gonna get that—” He rushes back into the room to grab his glove near your foot, dumping it into a random drawer. He is bouncing on his heels. ”...so yeah! This is the room. Welcome!”

“Is that where I’ll sleep?” You point towards the luxury gray sofa in the middle of the room facing the TV.

He walks up to your side to sling an arm around your shoulders; you’re annoyed at how easy it is for him to do that now with his added height. He does not mind that his shirt sleeve is growing damp from your hair. “Nah, I have to let you take the bed. Mom’s orders. We can share like old times though, since it’s big enough. Just don’t tell her.”

“You sure that’s okay? I mean, I know we’re friends but don’t you have a girl or something?”

He instantly sours, and drags you towards the bed with his arm still pressing firmly on your shoulders. “Broke up with me last week.”

“Oooh, bummer. What did you do?”

He smacks the back of your head. “Why’d you assume I did something?”

You shove him off good-naturedly, and sit down at the edge of the bed. “Well did she break up with you because of your stellar personality?” you dryly comment.

“Nah, I just played too much baseball.”

“Why’s that an issue?”

“Don’t really wanna talk about it,” he brushes you off as he walks over to his game consoles.

You frown at him while his back is turned. It’s so…typical of Ken Sato to avoid any conversations about his feelings. He never likes talking about himself beyond what is surface level, and even if you can admit that he has gone the farthest with you when it comes to digging deep into his psyche, he still hesitates a lot when he has to open up. Jesus, you remember how long it took for him to be honest with you about how he does not get along much with anyone in Los Angeles, even his own varsity teammates.

Plus, he has only mentioned his girlfriend–ex, now–a handful of times. Your curiosity was eating at you.

“Ha, no way, you’re actually upset that you got dumped,” you tease, growing a bit more comfortable around him as the minutes pass you by.

He rolls his eyes as he starts up the TV and grabs two of his controllers. He tosses one at you, which you smoothly catch. “Honestly, I wasn’t really upset with it.”

“But weren’t you with her for several months…?” You could not believe his blasé attitude about it.

“And what about that guy your friend tried to set you up with? The one with nice skin but bad breath?” He changes the subject as he approaches you.

You flush, straightening your back. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

He raises an eyebrow. Hypocrite.

“It’s different!” You weakly justify.

“Yeah yeah, now scoot—” Ken tries to push you towards the other side of the bed. “This is my spot.”

“Ugh, dude what are you doing?” You groan as you acquiesce. He plops down beside you as soon as you move out of the way, the TV screen displayed Mario Kart.

“Thought we are gonna play?” He opens up the selection screen.

You groan. “I just wanna nap, man. It was a 12-hour flight.”

“You can nap after three rounds,” he protests. He nudges at your wrists until you are holding the controller up properly. “Come on, I wanna hang out.”

“Kenji, I love you, but I might pass out in the middle of round one.” Your hands drop back on your lap. The tension of your back eases as you sink into his mattress, and you want nothing more than to get under his covers and sleep.

He flicks the side of your head to keep you awake, grumbling. “I am not wasting anytime while you’re here. It might take you a whole ten years next time to come back.”

“I said I was sorry,” you weakly reply. You shove your controller into his chest as you throw his blankets over yourself. You sink your face into his pillow for added measure. “Now please, I promise we can hang after I wake up. I just need this.”

Even if your voice is muffled by the pillow, he understood you clearly. He scoffs, and you feel him slide off the bed to leave you alone. Guilt begins to creep into your heart. You know how hard it is for him to make friends here. He is distant with everyone else except for you. Now his girlfriend dumped him and he probably just needed company—

You hear the click of the lights turning off, and the pull of the curtains over the windows. You feel the dip of the bed again, and you look up to see him getting under the covers himself.

“What are you doing?” You hesitantly ask.

“What’s it look like? I’m taking a nap too.”

“…it’s ten in the morning.”

He pushes your face back into the pillow. “Yea, and I had to get up at four to pick you up from the airport.”

You try to apologize, but you are muffled by the pillow. You slap at his arm so he will let your head go.

“Don’t apologize, dude,” he murmurs as he settles into the bed beside you, but still keeping a respectable distance. “S’okay, you need to rest. Sorry about being pushy about it.”

You let out a yawn, relaxing into the bed. “We can play when we wake up…no biggie.”

“It’s not just that…” He faces you, lying down on his side. His arm falls into the space between. He lets out a heavy breath.

You wait.

He does not say anything more.

“Kenji?”

He turns around. “…nothing. I... Good morning, I guess. Sleep well.”

You nearly click your tongue. What is it with boys and their repressed emotions?

Yet, perhaps you worry too much. Things aren’t as simple as they were when you were kids, but that is how it’s supposed to be.

“Kenji I swear to god you’re going to get us in trouble,” you hiss at him as he shoves his arm up the crane machine. You try to cover him with your body since he placed you on lookout duty.

“You said you wanted it,” he grunts back, as he even tilts the machine a little forward.

You hurriedly provide leverage against the glass with your shoulder so the entire thing won’t collapse on him. He has spent fifteen minutes trying to get you a Tuxedo Sam plushie, and as stubborn as he is, he refuses to back down. “Sunk-cost fallacy, man.”

“The hell is that?”

“Don’t you listen in class?”

His long arm strains higher. “Can’t see shit from here. You gotta tell me if I’m close.”

“To your left— yeah, a bit more,” you guide him as you glance into the machine.

“Is it— ah, fuck— did I get it?”

“That’s a Cinnamoroll.”

His fingers pinched at the poor stuffed toy’s ear. “That good enough for you?”

“I guess it’s fine?” The weight of the machine is causing your shoulder to ache. “Dude just grab it and let’s go.”

“No, I’ll get that damn penguin.” God he’s stubborn as shit. His hand strains some more, and you see his fingertips brush against Tuxedo Sam’s hat.

“You’re actually gonna get it,” you marvel.

“I got you, girl.” He throws you a smirk despite nearly straining his rotator cuff.

The machine tilts a bit more, his palm fully closing over the stuffed toy’s face.

“Hey, what are you doing over there?!”

You make eye contact with the underpaid arcade employee stalking towards you.

“Kenji—“

“Oh shit—“

You push the machine back in place as Kenji yanks at the toy as fast as he could with a loud rip. You both bolt out of the exit, the neon lights bathe your skin no more as you run out to the sunset-soaked Santa Monica Pier.

Your howls of glee are drowned by the roar of the pier’s crowd. You smell the sea and fry grease in the air. Ken grabs your wrist and tugs you as he runs towards the parking lot.

You both are reduced to giggles by the time you reach his jeep. Your knees start to buckle as you throw your back against the passenger door, heaving from your long sprint. He is also a wreck, resting his arm against the passenger door as well as he stood beside you.

“Here, for you,” he says breathlessly as he holds up your prize, the Tuxedo Sam.

Or. Part of him.

“What the— Kenji!” You wheeze, doubling over from laughter. Your eyes sting from the tears that are forming.

That stuffed toy is full-on decapitated.

“Gah, damn. Must’ve gotten caught on the claw machine door.” Ken’s brows furrow as he looks at the penguin head he had gripped tightly in his hand.

An apology is on the tip of his tongue until he sees your hunched, shaking form. He barks out his own laughter, one hand circling your waist to stabilize you against his chest.

“Okay okay that’s enough,” he gives you his signature lop-sided smile as you shake against him. “Maybe I am not the best claw machine guy around.”

Your stomach hurts as you gasp for air. Your hand claws at his shirt as you continue to cackle. “Y-you think?!”

He presses the decapitated Tuxedo Sam head against your face to shut you up.

You two still get along just fine.

At that point, it has been a few days since you arrived in LA. You both have spent your time exploring the city while the sun is up, and goofing off in his room when night has fallen.

However, most of your schedule has to work around his baseball summer training. In fact, you could only hit up the pier after his training ended earlier at three in the afternoon. His equipment sticks out from the back as you sit in the passenger seat of his jeep.

“Keep an eye out for any patrol cars,” he tells you as he pulls out the parking lot to begin the drive home.

“Why? I don’t think they’re investigating penguin homicide.” You hug the decapitated Sam.

“Ha ha. My license is only provisional.” 

“Just drive like normal and you won’t get caught,” you nonchalantly say. “If you speed up when we see the police they would definitely pull us over.”

He reaches over the console to pinch your arm. “Don’t jinx it.”

You swat him away, then recline your seat. You stretch your legs out with a sigh. “Ugh, the day still feels too young.”

“Hm, we can have a little night time swim?” He suggests.

“Will your mom let us head to the beach again?” You think you both have messed around at the beach a total of three times already given that it is just at his backyard.

“Not at this hour, no. But you still haven’t tried the pool right?” While the Sato residence is a beachfront, they still have a gorgeous heated pool by the coast. You begin to envy his sun-kissed life.

The sky is already dark when you arrive back home ( home? Maybe it is). You begin making preparations for your nightly swim, donning on your bathing suit and grabbing your towel to head out to the back porch. Ken still hasn’t gone down, and you figure you can go ahead and make some poolside snacks for the two of you while you wait.

You pad barefoot into the kitchen with your sheer white swim cover up hanging off your shoulders. As you rummage through the fridge, the front door opens. A click of heels echo through the house.

“Oh, Navy!” You hear Mrs. Sato call out behind you. “What are you doing here? It’s been some time since you’ve come over— ah!”

She stops herself quickly when you turn around.

“So sorry about that sweetheart. You just look so much like—” She pauses.

“Oh, welcome back Auntie Emiko!” You greet her warmly as you set down the cans of soda you have grabbed onto the counter. She is still in her office attire, having come from her work at a kaiju research center in the city. Even if they are far from the shores of Tokyo, the whole world maintains great interest in those creatures.

Her words finally process in your head. “Sorry, who?”

She hesitates as she approaches the opposite side of the counter. “You know, Kenji’s old girlfriend.”

Ah. You blink. “Oh yeah, her name is…Navy? Right, yeah he mentioned her.” 

“You just look like her from behind. Maybe it’s the current fashion,” she sheepishly explains.

You don’t know why but it peeves you to think that another girl was waltzing around with her swimsuit on in Ken’s kitchen.

“Sorry, Kenji doesn’t like it when I talk about her,” Auntie Emiko explains. She reaches for one of your cans. “May I?”

“Oh sure,” you allow as you slide it to her. You open one of your own as you both comfortably sit at the bar stools across from one another. You take a sip for your nerves. Normally, talking with your auntie is so easy but for some reason a ball is lodged in your throat. “It’s…hard to get him to open up about his feelings.”

“That’s why I’m glad you’re here,” she confesses.

You take another sip, silent.

“You know, she actually was a lot like you. I don’t necessarily miss having her around per se, but it just felt like you were here with us once more.”

“Oh! Well Ken never really talked about her so I wouldn’t know.” You trace your fingertip around the can’s edge.

She laughs at a memory. “You know, when you told us last year that you cannot visit, Kenji moped around the house for weeks. We fought a lot during that time—“

“I’m really sorry…”

“No need to explain yourself to me. I knew he was just dealing with a lot back then. Anyway, one day he just seemed to have perked up again. That’s when he told me he met Navy. She was a bright girl like you are, very similar. It’s too bad Kenji wasn’t ready to fully commit to her. He has a baseball for a brain.” She knocks at her temple for emphasis.

You lean in, your nosiness coming in. “Do you know why she broke up with him? He never really explained it to me.”

She drinks some soda before she laughs again. “He always chose baseball over her, dear. That boy would rather spend his day at the field than whatever she wanted to do.”

“Is that really it?” You ask in wonder.

She shrugs. “Who knows if they fought about something else. The baseball summer training he’s doing now was the last straw, especially when…” She shuts up suddenly.

“When what?” You egg her on.

“Don’t tell him that I told you,” Auntie Emiko suddenly whispers. You nod. “But apparently, she couldn’t take it that he spent the entire day at training. Even I thought it was excessive that he’s doing a lot this summer.”

Your nose scrunches in confusion. “His training ends in the early afternoon. He could have made time if he wanted to.”

“Well he definitely has with you.” Her eyes twinkle knowingly as she takes a long sip from her can.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You’re at a loss. 

She hums. “Ever since you’ve been back, Kenji has been coming home from training after it ends.”

“…As he is should???”

“He normally comes home around nine in the evening because he stays overtime in the batting cage with the pitching machine.”

Oh. Well how are you supposed to know that?

Before you can reply, Ken enters the kitchen with a towel on his shoulders and his swim trunks hanging low on his hips. You train your eyes up to his face with much practice. It was much harder the first time you went swimming together earlier this vacation, when you had realized just how broad his shoulders have gotten. Must have been from all those hours in the batting cage.

“Hey mom,” he leans forward to give Auntie Emiko a peck on her cheek in greeting. He turns to you. “Ready to hit the pool, dude?”

You nod, finishing the last gulp of your soda quickly before throwing the can in the trash. “Yeah, sure.”

Auntie Emiko waves you two off as she slides down her barstool. “Have fun. I might turn in early for tonight.”

“Rest well mom,” Ken calls out to her as she leaves the kitchen.

Your conversation with your auntie goes to the back of your mind as soon as you jump into the warm chlorinated water. Heated pools are a godly gift for a cool night. 

Thrumming with the excess adrenaline from earlier today, you and Ken can singlehandedly reduce the pool’s water levels by a few good inches with the way you two splash around each other. From challenging each other to do the biggest cannonball, to grabbing each other’s ankles underwater, you are turning your relaxing evening soak into a full workout.

Your game of Marco Polo is the most tiring yet. He swims like a shark in top form. You could barely let out a squeal before he pounces on you from below. You nearly hit your head on the side of the pool when he grabs you with ferocity and holds you tightly against his cold, clammy body. His forearm presses against your bare tummy as your legs tangle underwater when he catches you, keeping you both afloat.

“Got ya.” His ego leaks out as his breath hits your ear.

A strong smack from you causes Ken to wince and let go. “You’re just cocky ‘cause your feet reaches the pool floor!” You swim a foot away from him.

“Maybe I’m cocky because I won the last five rounds.”

“Okay, I can acknowledge that you swim a lot better than me,” you bow your head a little to his direction. “So it makes me think that, maybe, you can better utilize your skills in our next game.”

“For the last time, I’m not playing mermaids.” He strikes the water to send a small wave towards your open mouth.

You sputter as you try to splash him back. “But you can have the shiny red tail and I can have a shimmery blue tail to match!”

“ What are you even talking about right now?”

“Don’t you have any imagination?”

“Well, I can imagine that I have two legs and can breathe air.”

“Well, my best friends back at Tokyo played mermaids with me.” It is a childishly low blow, but it is a joke all the same.

He does not seem to think so, as he gives a harsh splash to your face, harder than before.

“Hey, I’m kidding! Honest, we don’t have to—” you nearly drank in the pool water again as another splash came your way. “Promise we don’t have to play!”

You swim over to him as he pushes himself up to sit at the ledge close to the pool ladder. You cross your arms on top of the ledge, beside his legs as you look up at him.

“Kenji, promise. It’s not a big deal.”

He shakes his head over yours so that the droplets in his hair rain down on you. “I don’t know. Maybe you should get on the next plane to play mermaids with your much better friends,” he sneers at you childishly.

Unrelenting, you push yourself to float up between his legs, hands on his knees as you coax him back into the water. “I didn’t mean it, bro. Please come back in?”

“...You won’t even let my mermaid have the ability to talk to all the fishes.” He leans back on his arms as he looks down at you.

“Because that’s my mermaid’s special power.” You swim closer, your ears nearly grazing his skin as your hands slide down to loosely hold his shins.

You nearly miss the hitch of his breath. “Why can’t both of our mermaids talk to fish? It makes more sense that way.”

“Ugh, if you keep insisting then let’s play something else,” you complain.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t expect mermaids to get so political,” he lazily keeps his eyes on you as your head bobs around while you float in the water. “It’s getting pretty late. Let’s call it a night.” 

“Ugh, please… don’t wanna sleep just yet.” You rest your cheek against his inner thigh, pleading with your eyes as you stuck out your bottom lip. You are met with the heel of his hand striking your forehead. “ Ow !”

“What are you doing ?” He hisses, and you wonder if you are mishearing the flustered tone that makes his voice go higher.

“I’m still not tired yet!” Your head is still pushed back.

He presses the heel of his hand firmer against your forehead. “Well I am.”

“I thought you were an athlete.” You grab his wrist to mitigate the pressure. “Your mom told me you spend hours in the batting cage before going home.”

“Yeah, well I haven’t done that in a while.” He gives one last small push on your forehead before leaning back again.

Pouting, you swam to the pool ladder to climb out, before plopping down beside him at the ledge. Your feet absentmindedly kick as it submerges once again into the water, and he follows suit.

“...I heard what you and mom talked about by the way,” he nonchalantly reveals.

“...Does it bother you?” You cautiously ask.

He shrugs, and gives a rough kick out with his feet. “Nah, you’re right. I don’t like talking about feelings and stuff. Maybe that’s why I didn’t really feel bad when she didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“I get why you wanted to prioritize baseball. It’s all you have,” you try to empathize. “Still, maybe you should’ve set aside time for her. It’s important to give space for other people in your life.”

He snorts. “She didn’t want to do anything important, believe me.”

“I’m sure any time spent with loved ones is priceless,” you argue.

“Oh yeah? So should I just risk my dream of being the best living baseball player of all time to makeout in my bed?”

You clam up really fast, and look away. “Don’t you have any tact?”

“You asked.” He reaches forward to scoop some water in his palm to throw at you.

“...Was it something that you did…often?” You do not know why you ask.

“Didn’t I just tell you the reason why we broke up?”

“Well I don’t know!” You throw your hands up in defense. “I just think making out with someone sounds…nice.”

He tilts his head at your tone. “Don’t tell me you’ve never.”

“I’ve…” you think very carefully about your next words. “...tried to, but it just didn’t like. Push beyond a little kiss.”

“Define little.” He angles his torso to face you, even if you could barely look him in the eyes.

“Maybe a peck?”

He whistles. “Damn, dude, way to hit all the bases.”

You try to shove him back into the water but he grabs your wrists and wrestles your arms down, pulling you close.

“Don’t be shy!” He laughs at you. “It’s kind of overrated.”

“It is?” You can’t help your natural curiosity. You put your hands down but he maintains a friendly grip on you.

“Yeah. Maybe the girls I kissed weren’t that good at it but it’s pretty…damp. And messy.”

You ignore the way your heart stings at his use of plural. “But doesn’t it feel nice? Like, it looks nice on TV.”

“Don’t get me wrong it feels…good. Really good,” he hesitates. “It just does not really compare to the batting cage.”

You bite your lip. His eyes unconsciously follow. “I… I really wanted to try doing it with that guy.”

“...The one with the nice skin?”

“And bad breath,” you grumble. “I couldn’t get over it. I tried to be subtle by sliding him some gum but he never took the hint.”

He lets go of your wrists in order to stop himself from laughing.

“It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is given how long you stuck by him,” he snickers. “Why were you even into him in the first place?”

Your mind briefly flashes back to the first time you met that boy, when your friend first introduced you to him. You remember your first thought was that he looks similar to someone you dearly missed.

You shrug, noncommittal. “Haven’t got a clue.”

“Well don’t go running off to find the next boy to get in on with,” he warns.

“I’m not!”

“Keep it that way, guys are pretty gross.”

You suck in air through your teeth. “It’s not really about that…I’m just worried that I won’t be good at it.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing to be good at,” he gives it to you straight. “If you like a guy enough it will always be good. You’re not getting graded.”

“Well since when were you the makeout master ?”

“Since I had a girlfriend whose breath smelled fine.”

“You said you didn’t even like her that much!”

“I also said she wanted to eat my face everyday.”

Damn, he has a point. 

You give a strong kick to the water, the wave smoothly gliding to the other side of the pool.

Ken sighs, sensing the drop in your mood. “...Does it really matter so much for you to try it out?”

“Try what out?” You play dumb, too embarrassed to say that yes, it did .

He knows what game you’re trying to pull on him, but he lets you. “Eat faces.”

“I haven’t even had a proper kiss yet,” you say, mock-scandalized.

“So I’ll give you a proper kiss first then.”

You blink.

He brings his hands down to splash you with more water. “Don’t look at me stupid like that.”

“I didn’t think you meant eat faces with you !” You splash him back.

“What’s wrong with me? I thought you wanted to get good at it before kissing some guy.”

You pause. You did want to be good… Still, the conversation is starting to spiral out of control. You hesitate to reply.

He clicks his tongue as he pats the tile at his side. “Come closer.”

You sit closer to his side, thighs touching. “God this is kind of weird.”

“It’s just a kiss,” he rolls his eyes. “You wanna learn or not?”

“What if your mom sees?” You look back to the house. It seems relatively quiet, with the lights of Auntie Emiko’s room turn off and the curtains spread out.

“She’s fast asleep.”

“What if my breath smells bad?”

“I’ll let you know.”

“What if—”

“If you don’t want to, I’m not forcing you,” he cuts you off, annoyed. He makes a move to stand but you press your palm against his knee to keep him still.

“What if this fucks up our friendship?”

Ken will have given you another half-assed response if not for the sincere fear reflecting from our eyes.

You continue, “I was really, really scared before coming here. I thought that, once we met up you’ll realize how boring I am and– and think that me coming was a waste of time. And I promise I don’t think that anymore. It’s been a fun few days and it feels like I got my best friend back, you know? It was shitty of me not to come see you, I know that now, because I can’t believe I would ever reach the point where I doubted us.”

He reaches upward to cup your face, and you nuzzle into his palm.

You let out a shaky sigh. “I want to kiss you. I do. I want to know what it feels like and figure out how it goes because I trust you more than anyone else. But I really don’t want to fuck this up more than I have.”

“You haven’t fucked anything up,” he mumbles. “I wouldn’t have offered if I thought you would fuck this up…I was scared too. That you didn’t come back because you grew bored of me.”

“That’s not why—”

He presses his thumb against your cheekbone. “I know. I…I struggled with it but I know now. I feel like I haven’t really come to terms with how…my dad never picked me first. I’ve never forgiven him for how much he neglected me and my mom that I…I think some anger I had with my dad transferred onto my resentment for you when you did not visit. I’m sorry, for being immature about it. I don’t know how to talk about things like this.”

The tightening in your chest unfurls. He moves his head closer.

Your breaths intermingle as you stay by the pool.

“It means a lot…” As you speak, your lips nearly brush against his. You bring your hand up over his heart to steady yourself and maintain a distance. “...How…how do we do this?”

“Let me guide you,” he says, a little breathless. “Anything I can do to keep boundaries? I mean, since this is just a friend doing a favor for a friend.”

Nervous, you blab the first thing that comes to mind. “Maybe…we can just say ‘bro’ after every kiss?”

“...Are you shitting me right now?” He gasps, resting his forehead against yours.

“I-I don’t know…” You giggle. “It won’t count if we do. Won’t mean anything.”

“We can do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, bro .”

“Sure, bro. ”

“Anything you say, bro .”

“Kenji—Bro, I’m… I’m still a little scared.”

“Then let me take care of you…”

You hold your breath.

His breath is hot.

And he tastes like chlorine.

Like petals sliding against each other, his lips smoothly glide against your own. Your hand against his chest creeps up to leverage itself on his neck. His fingertips slip into your hair and you clench your legs as it brought tingles from your scalp all the way down your spine.

He pulls away, eyed unfocused when he opens them. “ More .”

You open and close your mouth. “Are…Are you asking?”

“ Please…” He kisses your nose. You life your head higher to kiss him back.

You are sure he feels the goosebumps on your skin as his other hand brushes against your leg. He lets his fingers climbs up your inner thigh as the hand in your hair pushes you firmer against him. You massage the nape of his neck in return, urging him on. You move against him on instinct, panting before sucking on his bottom lip. The groan he lets out sets you on fire. You feel a heat, a hunger, which can only be satiated by his skin against yours.

Lightheaded, you pull away for air but he chases after you, his nose bumping into yours as he searches for your lips once more. “Wait,” he grunts. “Not done.” His palm slides higher up your thigh, knuckles brushing against your polyester swimwear.

You swallow back a gasp as you lean back, too prideful to seem needy for his touch. “G-Give me a min—”

You lean back too far, he leans too far forward.

You fall into the pool.

The heated water is freezing against your scalding skin. You feel him wrap his arms around your waist to hoist up above water. You are greeted with a boyish laugh as you emerge for air. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips as he stands on the pool floor, anchoring yourself on his stability.

“My height comes in handy, huh?” He teases as he walks through the water to get to the ladder. He guides your bottom to rest on one of the steps.

You grasp the metal railings as he steps closer between your legs. Swallowing your pride, you mutter “I’m…I need more…”

“What was that?” He grins. His hands loftily roam from your thighs up to your sides back down again.

You push yourself forward to shut him up.

He dives deeper into your kiss as he runs his fingers again through your hair while his other hand grips your waist underwater. You buck into his touch, bumping against the front of his shorts, and he hisses before nipping at your lip to make you behave. Your knuckles turn white from how tightly you grip the railing. The water sloshes around you two as he presses his hips against yours. The heels of your feet dig against his lower back as you sloppily kiss him through the haze of euphoria he shoots through your nervous system.

From your hair, his hand slides down to grab your chin. He tilts your head up. “You got something…” He brings you closer, and licks at the drool leaking out of your mouth. You grip his nape tighter as he begins to peck there, then to the corner of your jaw, following its line until his butterfly kisses reach your earlobe.

Ken feels your legs clench together. His hand on your waist dips into the water to soothingly knead them back apart.

As you ease open again, he gives a sly peck on your lobe before whispering “Can I suck on your tongue?”

Your mouth goes dry.

“Nod or shake your head.”

You nod.

“Good girl. Now open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”

And shit. Did he make you feel really, really good.

Haa….

Ha…Haah…

A…A-Ah…

He lets out soft moans with each gentle suck of your tongue. They mix with your pants for air.

Reluctantly, he pulls away this time. His touch on your chin skims down to play with the strap of your bathing suit. He swallows heavily before he takes a shaky breath in.

You purse your lips, feeling the numbness. “...Well.”

He slowly nods. “Mhm.”

Your hands loosely slide down the railing. “I…I’m sorry I didn’t know what to do with my hands.”

He chuckles as he leans forward to kiss your shoulder, before slowly rubbing his face against your arm, all the way up to your wrist. He gives it a gentle peck as you still held on the railing, before falling into a pattern of rubbing up and down your arm’s length. He buries his nose at the crook of your arm, groaning.

If you do not know any better, he seems drunk.

“I-It’s getting late…”

“Yeah…” He plants open mouth kisses on your arm. Your hand nearly slips and falls into the water.

“We might prune up here.”

“Mmhmm…” He reaches your collarbone.

You tilt your head back instinctively. He smiles against your skin before his tongue swipes at your pulse. Your hands lift off the railing to grasp his back as jolt upwards.

He laughs again before pulling back. “That good, bro ?”

You instantly scowl. “You’re ruining the mood.”

“You told me to say it after,” he reminds you. Ah. It completely slips your mind that you did.

Ken helps you out of the pool, ever the gentleman. You do not realize just how cold it was until the late night wind blows against you. He hands you your towel, and you stammer out that you have to go shower. You hurry inside without waiting for his response, opting to head to the common bathroom to rinse yourself off.

By the time you enter his bedroom, he is still in the middle of his own shower. You find it odd that he is taking this long. He left the door open, and the light leaks out into the pitch-dark room. You crawl underneath his covers, dry and clean— no longer hot and sticky. Yet, you feel the familiar hunger as his scent crowds around you. You never noticed it before but his bed smells just like his everyday cologne. Burrowing your face into the pillow, you take a deep inhale to calm yourself.

You then remember the pressure of his palm against the back of your head, and wonder what it may feel like if he has your face shoved against the mattress.

“ F-fuck… ”

Your eyes shoot open as you lift your head out of the pillow. Did that slip out of you?

No, that did not come from you.

You look back at the open bathroom door, and just as quickly, you look away. You try to go sleep as you block your ears from hearing anything more. That did not do much.

You bite the inside of your cheek. Are you a fucking pervert?

Ken probably does not know you’re back in the room.

You touch your lips. They still feel warm.

It was just a friendly favor. Don’t make it weird.

Your legs shakily widen.

This is so so wrong.

You slip an extra pillow between them.

The shower stops and the door is pushed open a bit wider. You tense up before you play dead, acting as if you innocuously needed to cuddle up against something soft. His feet pad into the room before coming to a dead halt. He seems to be facing the bed. There is a crackle of hesitation in the air, before Ken heads towards his sofa and pulls it out for the mattress.

He settles himself into his makeshift bed, and you nearly sigh in disappointment when you realize you will be alone for the night, his side of your bed feeling emptier by the moment.

You still struggle to sleep long after you could hear his soft snores.

Did you fuck it up? You cannot help but chide yourself. If it is not weird, then why is he sleeping on the pullout? If it is not weird, then why did you leave him standing by the pool earlier after you finished…whatever it was you both were doing?

You slowly rock into the pillow with no particular rhythm as you thought about it. His hand touching your thigh, his knuckles grazing against…

“ A-Ah…” Your hips stutter. You clam up immediately. Shit, are you too loud?

You crane your head up to look down at the sofabed.

You don’t hear his snoring.

“...Kenji? You awake?” You call out into the dark.

A rustle of blankets. “...Yeah.”

“...you heard that?”

“.....yes….”

“.....”

“Did you…hear me…earlier?”

“...Yeah….”

He does not answer this time.

“...Did we fuck this up?” You cannot stop yourself from asking.

He breathily laughs, and it warms you right back up. “Of course not.”

The next day you sit in the breakfast nook with your Auntie Emiko as you both enjoy a simple breakfast of rice and dried fish. Kenji busies himself with getting ready for his baseball training.

Auntie Emiko chats with you about her plans for the day. “I have to go and meet up with the others moms at the PTA. What are you kids planning on doing later?”

You look at Ken as he packs up his bat, his back turned at you.

“Maybe mess around."

He evidently stills. Shit, are you bold .

But his mom just laughs it off, not really reading into what she said. “Just don’t set the house on fire and you’ll be good. It’s nice that you two are going to take the afternoon in. You had a busy day yesterday.”

You agree wholeheartedly.

“I gotta go,” Ken announces as he pulls up his bag up to his shoulder. He heads towards the table to give his mom a peck on the cheek and you a light side hug. “Bye.”

While Auntie Emiko continues on your little chat, you begin to panic. You worry that you read him wrong. You are sure you did not misunderstand where he stands. Where you stand.

You do not have to worry too long again. He always comes to melt your troubles away.

Specifically, he enters his room at 3:30PM still in his baseball uniform.

And to his credit, he at least showers and pretends you both are not thinking the same thing as he slides into bed beside you. He begins to play a random low-budget action film on his TV, and as soon as it was made clear that neither of you really gave a shit about the exploding cars and machine guns, he turns to you and asks

“Wanna makeout?”

Present day.

Ken wakes up in the shittiest mood he has been in for a while, and that is saying a lot. Not only did he have to turn down your bootycall last night, but he dreamt of your first makeout in his room.

He remembers having you on his lap and pushing your hips down as he came into his pants like the pathetic, horny teenager he was. He remembers you whining for him to teach you how to do your first french kiss like the pathetic, horny teenager you were.

Okay, maybe his thing was a lot more embarrassing. But in fairness, you left a permanent stain on the front of those boxers by the time you were finished.

He gets up from bed and takes a longest shower he has had since arriving back in Tokyo.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

Ken chants in his head. It is the same ten years ago, it is the same now. Even if it feels like everything, it means nothing. Of course, it is not the same now because you ended the arrangement three years ago .

He convinces himself that you were just tired last night, and he was too. Even if the old routine is familiar, and comfortable , it does not mean it is right.

He heads down to his basement, mug of coffee in one hand, and almost immediately he is greeted by the sight of a hyperactive Emi in her cylinder and his dad muttering over some charts.

“Hey girl, morning.” His heart swells with pride as his baby Emi chirps with excitement at the sight of him. Even if last night did not go the way he wanted it to, being able to give her a name feels good. 

“Morning dad,” he walks over to Professor Sato. The old man finally looks up with a start, before his eyes focus on his son with glee.

“Good morning, Kenji! Let’s start bright and early.”

Ken rolls his neck as he begins to warm up. “What’s first on the new sched? Feeding time?”

“Ah, before that…” His dad gestures to the chair beside him, and Ken takes the seat. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

“Is it Emi’s poopies? I never got around to figuring out the schedule in which she does it.”

“No no,” the professor pauses. He wipes his palms down his pants with the nervousness of a father who never really learned how to parent.

Oh wait , Ken thinks wryly, but still tries to stifle the thought.

“Mina…informed me you were headed somewhere last night.” His tone shows he knew more than what he is saying.

Ken stands back up. “No. You cannot leave me alone for twenty years then expect me to be all fine with it when you suddenly feel the need to give me the dad talk.”

“I-I’m not trying…look, son,” his dad tries to soften his temper. “You know how much I like her. You also know how she visited me every other month to check up on me while you were away, and that she has not stopped since you have arrived back home.”

“I know that,” he cannot help but bark out.

“And you know I’ve always appreciated her family’s help with funding the KDF back when its initial mission was more humane, and I don’t hold it against them that they continue to support it until now.”

“What are you saying?” He crosses his arms tightly.

“...I’m saying that I am proud of you for staying behind last night.”

He…He is not expecting this sort of praise. “I’m sorry?”

“W-well– uh– Mina, show him the chart?” Professor Sato calls for the robot assistant.

She hovers into view, and projects to Kenji a chart of…all the times he ditched Ultraman duty the past several months to do something else, categorized by reason.

The third is sleep.

The second is baseball.

The first is you.

He winces at the statistic, because even if he did neglect his duties often to see you, it was not enough to stop you from feeling like he did not care about you.

“...point being?” He pretends not to see what is wrong.

Professor Sato lets out a deep sigh. “I am…proud. That you chose to be here this time.”

“Okay.”

“And that I think you have a shot against that Yamazaki Kento guy.”

A vein nearly pops at the side of his temple. He sets down his coffee mug on a nearby surface as he rubs his head. “Yeah, no. They aren’t together.”

“Oh!” God dad, shut up. “That’s even better news. Since when?”

“It was just a few dates,” he snaps. “They didn’t work out.”

“I see… and this was…Before or after Yuzu?”

“After Mr. Hanyu ,” Ken corrects him immediately.

His dad laughs good-naturedly. “I can’t really follow her when she tells me all about it…At least she prefers athletes over actors, eh?”

“...Thanks. Anything else before I take Emi out for her bath?”

“Uh— Well… Kenji…” Here they go again. “Last night, when you played your…sleeping aids for Emi—”

“Those are the only things that knock her out,” he hurriedly explains. The temperature of the room beginning to rise.

“...R-Right…”

“Dad, don’t worry. I know it’s a bit…weird.”

“I didn’t say that, and I didn’t think that,” Professor Sato tries to assure him. “I…I do the same for your—”

Ken transforms into Ultraman before he could hear another word. Emi’s garbled chirps got louder in glee, and he swoops her into his arms.

He shouts behind him “Whoops, gotta go! She’s getting the hungies.”

Great. Good talk. The father-son bonding is sooo back.

A/N: Dear god was this horny. I miss the club.

I kind of got really shy about writing stuff like this? This is my first time publishing anything like that. i was actually supposed to fully write out the makeout scene in the bedroom but this chapter was getting too long. I really wanted all the things they did at sixteen to happen all in one chapter so I don't have to split it. Things to note

1) the Satos are definitely upperclass lmao. "But writer why is the reader still sponsoring Kenji if he's rich—" that's just how athlete sponsorships work rich ppl give money to other rich ppl all the time. 2) I didn't really like writing Auntie HAHA. I really wanted to call her "Tita Miko" or something but I figure most of you aren't Filipino. 3) To avoid alienating anyone I tried to figure out a name for Kenji's ex gf that i doubt any person is actually named. if your name is Navy then idk... 4) I will be giving you the craziest dating history to compensate for me making Kenji date other girls YIPEE. Except for the ex, I namedrop very real life personalities in each chapter.

[imjustreadinglmao]

BLUE

Paring: Azriel x Reader (soon? or maybe not…)

A/N: posted this drabble/idea on my old account but somehow it doesn’t appear in the tags 🤷‍♀️

this is just an idea. if you want me to follow up with more parts, let me know! let me know who reader should end up with.

TW: lil bit of angst, unrequited love, not proof read

I stir my black tea as Rhysand skips through the report I handed him just seconds ago. The steam from the tea rises, carrying with it a sense of fleeting warmth that I desperately cling to.

I rarely do missions, but when I do, l'm always eager to return home, cook myself a nice meal, cuddle my cat, and pass out in my bed.

Missions used to be exciting, but nowadays I prefer the comfort my room provides. The sense of security it brings is a balm to my soul, now more than ever.

"I have to say, l'm impressed you were able to convince Devlon so fast. The Mother knows how difficult he is."

I look up at Rhys and chuckle, the sound hollow to my own ears. "It does help if you threaten to cut his balls off and stake them to the wall for everyone to see."

Rhys lifts a brow and barks out a laugh. "I see."

I take this as a sign to stand up and lift my bag off the floor. I sling it over my shoulder and make my way to the door.

"Don't forget tonight's family dinner," Rhysand calls after me. “And no surprises this time,” I don't look back, just give him a thumbs-up and close his office door behind me.

As I make my way downstairs and through the foyer, I spot Lucien strapping on his sword.

Presumably getting ready for training or another form of torture he wants to inflict upon himself.

"How did the mission go?" Lucien doesn't need to look up to see that it's me approaching. I let out a sigh and rub my temples.

"Good." I stop beside him and flop onto the recamare right next to the front door. "Well, as good as paying the camps a visit can get.”

Lucien cracks a smile at that. He knows exactly how difficult it is to convince Devlon of something he isn't particularly fond of.

"Are you coming to the family dinner tonight?" I ask, my voice betraying a hint of reluctance.

Lucien sheaths his blade and nods. "Feyre will have my head if I don't show up. I already missed the last one."

I cringe at the mention of the last family dinner.

The memory alone sends a sharp pang through my chest.

————————————

I walked into the dining room, ready to face yet another family dinner. I spotted Mor right away, radiant in her blood-red gown. The sight of her was one of familiarity and comfort.

"Hey, got another one of those?" | pointed to the wine glass in her hand. She arched a brow and handed me one filled to the brim.

"Are we so exhausting that you need liquid encouragement to get through the night?" she mused. I shot her my best you know exactly why I need this' look.

Right as she opened her mouth to say something, the back of my head began to tickle. He was here.

I turned around to see Azriel walk through the door, and he was not alone. Elain was beside him, their hands intertwined.

The sight hit me like a physical blow. I looked back at Mor, her expression as shocked as mine. "didn't know," she whispered, her face now bearing a look of worry and pity.

I forced myself to let the anger and embarrassment fade away. I took a deep breath and replied, "It doesn't matter. If he wants to court her, he can."

Even though he was my mate... Even though every fiber of my being screamed in protest.

To say the dinner was awkward would be an understatement. Nobody really knew what to say after Elain and Ariel walked in holding hands.

I just shoved the potatoes on my plate around, too nauseous to eat anything. The lump in my throat made swallowing impossible.

Cassian cleared his throat and pointed to Azriel and Elain. "So how long has this been going on?" Nesta jabbed her elbow into his ribs, which earned her an "oww" from her mate, and threw me an apologetic look.

Besides Mor, only Lucien and Nesta knew about me and Azriel's mating bond. Their concern was palpable, a constant reminder of the bond I tried so hard to ignore.

"Well... Azriel coughed, noticeably uncomfortable with being put on the spot. "It all happened very quickly. We spent a lot of our nights up and talking and realized we didn't want to hold back anymore."

He gazed down at her, smiling. I recognized that look. That's how one looks when they're deeply in love. The realization twisted the knife in my heart.

That's how I look at him.

————————————

"Are you even listening?" Lucien waves a hand in front of my face to snap me out of my haze.

His voice pulls me back to the present, but the ache remains. I rub my eyes. "Uh... sorry. What exactly were you saying?"

He crosses his arms and looks down at me. "I was asking if you wanted to go training with me. But it seems what you really need is some sleep."

I roll my eyes and stand up. "You know me so well, Lu."

I pat his shoulder and walk out the door. "See you at dinner tonight."

Velaris is most beautiful at night, but nothing can beat the quiet and peace of the early mornings.

I walk down the high street, greeting some of my favorite vendors with a smile, until reach the familiar townhouse.

After I officially became part of Rhysand's inner circle, he offered me to stay at his townhouse.

It had many perks: no rent, right in the heart of Velaris, and an endless wine supply thanks to Rhysand's "secret" wine cellar.

The only downside was...

"I didn't think you would be back so soon."

Azriel sits at the dinner table eating breakfast, dressed in his fighting leathers, probably on his way to the House of Wind for Valkyrie training.

Cassian and Azriel still train the Valkyries every morning. Sometimes I join, but only when Nesta drags me up there.

"Well, sorry to disappoint. I laugh awkwardly.

"I'm going to head upstairs to rest. Say hello to Nesta for me." The words taste bitter, a poor attempt to mask the hurt.

I turn around before he has the chance to say something else, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me.

Yes, that was the downside. The constant reminder of what I had lost and could never have.

Him.

[agendabymooner]

the little schuminis || ms47 fic

dad!mick schumacher x mom!ofc

EXTENSION TO SHE’S EVERYTHING… AND HE’S JUST MICK! (SMAU) + MICK, MULTIPLIED (SNAPSHOT)

Summary: Barbie Schumacher was the best mother there is to Mick’s little carbon copies. OR four times when Mick showed his devotion for his kids, and the one time his devotion paid off.

Content warning: Made this in about an hour— did not proofread this but I love it bc F1 driver with kids, All around fluff, Mick issa good dad, Michael Schumacher and Sebastian Vettel being wingmen to their kids (Barbie and Mick), Michael’s clowning his own son, many Schumacher kids

Note: @avaleineandafryingpan I know this isn’t much but I hope you love this request babygorl 😭😭🫶 my heart beats for you fr. Enjoy some dad!Mick content xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

i. the time with minna schumacher’s late night wake up call

Shrill cries of a newborn love was equal to the agony that Barbie Schumacher — formerly Blanco Vettel — felt as she groaned quietly. 3 AM never felt this awful until her firstborn child reached her teething stage, and all Barbie wanted to do was cry like her daughter was doing in her nursery now. 

Perhaps it wasn’t ideal to have a baby at the age of 27. Many people told her that her spouse wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment— that he was still on the peak of his career as a formula one driver. 

And Mick was in the midst of a season when Minna Elisa Schumacher was born. Being away from her for far TOO long was something he didn’t want, but he was forced to leave as soon as Minna reached her 47th hour of her life. Mick never hated something this much until his career made him choose. 

Barbie grumbled as she reached for her nightgown and slipped it on, only for a large hand to pull her back to the mattress as the German man murmured, “I’ll get her, liebling.” 

“Mick…” Barbie hadn’t really wanted to make him get up, seeing as he just arrived four hours ago after his triple header.

“‘s okay, I’ll get Minna,” he muttered, reaching out to kiss his wife’s forehead. “Just go get settled down and you can feed her here.” 

The blond man had immediately found Minna crying in her crib as he cradled her, heading downstairs to grab some iced teether to help soothe her gums. “Shh,” he shushed her gently, the baby’s cry subsiding immediately as she sucked on the teether. “You hungry, liebe? Or ‘s it just your gums?” 

“We have to stop waking your mom up at such an early time, Minnie baby,” he sighed, rocking her in his arms as they made their way back up to the bedroom. “She’s been awake all the time— she works too hard for us.” 

“She’s amazing, no?” Mick asked his daughter as if she could understand every single word he was saying. 

“Ma…” Minna mumbled regardless, clinging to his arms as Mick grinned tiredly. 

“Yeah, I know,” Mick nodded. “She’s working too hard, Minna. I’m glad she’s here to see you grow like this, liebe.” 

“Talking to Minna again, Schums?” A soft voice reached his ears as Mick looked back at his wife, who had her back against the headboard as she smiled tiredly and extended her arms. 

“Of course, Barbie,” Mick chuckled. “She’s got to learn her words, one of these days.”

“No need to lecture her though,” Barbie told him. But it wasn’t anything that she didn’t appreciate; she always liked it when Mick talked to their child like Minna understood everything. He had been doing this since Barbie fell pregnant with the girl— he’d often crouch down or lay next to her bulging stomach to speak to the growing baby inside of her. 

It showed Barbie that Mick was a committed father. It showed that regardless of his situation as a busy driver, he always saw his family as his number one priority. Perhaps that was why Barbie loved Mick so much. 

ii. the time with gisela schumacher’s first ballet show

Gisela Belle Schumacher’s first little ballerina performance was happening in the program facility and everyone made sure to show up. 

By everyone, I mean Barbie’s family, the Vettels, and Gisela’s (or Gigi) aunt Gina, Pippa Michael and Nina Corinna. The two year old was excited to show everyone what she practiced with Madame Pinault throughout her three months of being at the class. 

She was the tiniest girl out of the group, with her bright blue eyes and blonde hair making her stand out in comparison to her peers’ darker tones of hair. The Schumachers and Vettels knew which one to look out for while they waited at the auditorium.

Barbie peered down at her phone and sighed quietly. Mick wasn’t here yet. Stupid flight of his.

At Gigi’s age, she couldn’t easily grasp the concept of people not being able to make it to certain events at the right time. All she knew was that she was going to show her Dada how she could balance on her tiptoes without a problem. 

And of course, Mick couldn’t find himself to break her heart like that. And so, after the Brazilian GP, he took the fastest flight back to Lausanne. 

And there he was, rushing inside the auditorium with the biggest bouquet for the littlest girl. 

Minna’s announcement led the families to look at him as Mick kissed Barbie’s lips and Minna’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Mick apologized, “the baggage claim took longer than expected.”

“She hasn’t gone out yet,” Barbie laughed quietly, mindlessly caressing Minna’s blonde hair as she continued to speak, “glad to see you back from the race in one piece, though. With the biggest flowers too.”

Later after the performance, Gigi ran around the Schumacher home with the bouquet bragging about the flowers her Dada had given her. Barbie laughed at the sight of the girl— she was too adorable.

Mick laughed along, as he knew that he’d be more than happy to come carrying the biggest flowers for his girl— even after the longest double header he’s had. After all, nothing can stop him from being the best father to his children.

iii. the time with mika schumacher’s birthday party

“Who decided that setting up a pet display should be this fuc—“

“Mick, watch your words.”

“Sorry, Dad.” 

“Stop going crazy,” Michael said with a frown, throwing the small giraffe plushie at the direction of his son, to which Mick reacted with an ‘Ow!’ after being hit in the face. “This isn’t the first birthday party you’ve handled.” 

“Well this is the first one where ‘pet adoptions’ are a thing,” Mick gestured at the safari animal plushies at hand. “I don’t know what came up to Gina thinking it’s easy to find bulk plushies, but this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done— and I have three kids, Dad!”

“Because you can’t control yourself,” Michael mumbled, making Mick glare at him. Michael shrugged, “Am I incorrect?” 

Mick couldn’t even find himself to argue with his dad. Six years into the marriage, and he and Barbie already had three kids under seven. 

“I’m just so used to the girls wanting princesses and all of that,” Mick pouted lightly. 

Michael sighed, “Well, now you have Mika— think of him as you. What did you like when you’re a kid? Put yourself in his shoes. Don’t tell me you’re having an existential crisis three kids into marriage? I’m actually gonna be disappointed if you didn’t think that before you had the kids— you’ve been a driver for years!” 

“How can you find a time to joke about it,” Mick sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t even know why I’m here being an ass about my kid’s birthday party.” 

“Because,” Michael told him with a purse of his lips, “you’ve never had a son before— that’s why you’re stressing out about messing up.” 

“I struggled with you for a good while,” Michael shrugged nonchalantly, “Gina was into princesses and pink ponies. You were a boy— I didn’t know what baby boys liked. But I was a racer, that’s why I didn’t have any questions— I still hesitated though because you might like something else and I have to be aware of it.” 

“From what I can tell, you’re doing an alright job so far,” Michael smiled at Mick, patting him on the shoulder. “Miki’s been a happy child. That’s what matters, no?”

“So pick up your sad face and put those plushies up,” Michael said.

A delighted scream came from inside the house as the year old boy escaped from Kimi Vettel’s chasing, giggling as Mika Sebastian Schumacher ran as much as his little legs could handle. 

Eventually he found himself in the arms of Mick as Mika hid from his Uncle Kimi. 

“Da!” Mika screamed delightfully, kicking his legs when Kimi Vettel began tickling the boy. 

Mick and Michael exchanged grins.

Yeah, Mick would continue to put these plushies up if it meant that he’s making his son happy. 

iv. the time with michael ‘mikey’ schumacher’s introduction to the world

Michael Senna, or Mikey, Schumacher was born sixteen hours ago, his tiny body was proof that he was so much like his mother. Yet despite the smallness of his, his facial features and expressions of contentment showed that he was his father’s son. 

Another Mick Schumacher had been born into the world, and Barbie and Mick (alongside their family in Switzerland) welcomed him with open arms. 

And no one was more than excited than the newborn’s namesake, his Pippa Michael, and Sebastian Vettel when meeting the little boy. In fact, they raced through the hospital as soon as they heard that Barbie, Sebastian’s adoptive daughter, had given birth to Mick’s second son. 

Michael was more than happy to meet the boy— just as he was excited to meet his other grandchildren— but to meet little Mikey Schumacher was a moment to remember for everyone. Because that was also the time when Mick announced that…

“I’m retiring,” both Seb and Michael looked at the man with surprised expressions as if they wondered if they heard him right.

Mick explained, “I feel like I’ve lost a lot of time with the kids because I’ve been racing. The kids obviously don’t know how much time I’ve lost because they’re young but… I do. Barbie does.

“It took me a good while to understand what Mika loved— it took me a while to learn how to keep Gigi from having flyaways in her hair during her ballet classes— or how Minnie managed to handle her equestrian routine without Gina or Mom.

“I’ve lost a lot of time,” he said with a small chuckle and a shake of his head. Mick then gestured at Mikey, who remained peacefully sleeping in Michael’s arms as he said, “And with Mikey, I think I can’t afford to do that anymore. I’m okay with one championship only.”

Sebastian broke the silence after, “I’m proud of you Mick,” he smiled softly before reaching out to hug his in-law. “Look at how far Barbie and you’ve come.”

“Back then we had to goad him to ask Barbie on a date,” Michael chuckled quietly.

“It took us eight years,” Sebastian joked.

“Or nine,” Michael snorted.

“We’re still here,” Barbie mumbled in her sleep, “stop making jokes about it.” 

“Still,” Michael said, “we’re very happy for you and Barbie, son.”

“This is where your life begins,” Sebastian nodded, “all you need to do is to tell everyone about your commitments and devotion for your children and wife.” 

i. the time mick’s devotion paid off

Being a retired driver felt great. It wasn’t everyday Mick got to say that— and now he had every chance to. 

Barbie’s family restaurant in Lausanne, one that she named SV et Blanco, had been built years ago— it was the Vettels and Schumachers’ pride. After she graduated from culinary school, Barbie worked as a chef in nearby restaurants before eventually deciding that she wanted a place where family could start their traditions through countless dishes and desserts to try. 

Needless to say, it became a local and even international favourite. Many tourists in Switzerland would try to stop by Lausanne just to get a taste of Kimi Vettel’s favourite spinach and egg soufflé.

And now, SV et Blanco became a place for the Schumachers to spend their time during the Friday afternoons after Minna and Gigi’s classes. Mick would always pick up his daughters with Mika and ten month old Mikey on their car seats.

And after that, he’d come dropping by the restaurant. With Mika on his pram and Mikey on his back carrier, he led the kids into the restaurant as they found their mother making her rounds around the place. 

“Mama!” Minna exclaimed before she and Gigi ran towards Barbie, hugging her around the legs. 

“Oh, excuse me,” Barbie smiled at the guests before she crouched down to hug her girls. “Gigi, Minnie— hello! How’s school!” 

“School is good, Mama!” Gigi grinned. “I got star for writing!”

“That right? Good job, Gigi,” Barbie grinned. “And you, Minnie? How is your school?”

“Okay! I want soufflé though!” The eldest Schumacher pouted lightly. “I wanna see Pippa and Nina!”

“Pippa and Nina! And Sebby— and Mamma Bel!” Mika shouted from his pram.

Barbie giggled lightly before looking up at her husband, “And…? How’s Dada, kids?”

“Dada’s not that busy,” Mick giggled, “hungry for some soufflé though— Minna’s right.”

“Well,” Barbie clapped her hands before standing up, “it’s a good thing it’s our everyday special.”

“Great,” Mick joked. “Otherwise we traveled to Lausanne for nothing.”

Barbie rolled her eyes playfully.

It was a good thing Mick’s devotion and commitment for his kids were paying off. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be the retired father that he is now— his kids wouldn’t be adoring their mother as much as Mick did back when they were teenagers and secretly in love.