#she hasn't cried that much in a long time

[kala-basaa]

@melok-be Ask #1: Something Important 💚

She's still trying to process it.

[sweetpascal]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞

gif by @iamasaddie

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: it's the first day under your stepdad's care, and boredom hasn't crept in at all. you suggest having a movie night, and to your surprise, he agrees immediately.

warnings: MINORS DNI. age gap [18/52], pervy thoughts, joel is condescending, sweet nicknames (sweetheart, babydoll), joel calls himself 'daddy', overprotective joel (in a bad way), innocence kink, DUB-CON, NON-CON, sloppy thigh fucking, somnophilia, we're starting out soft

wc: 2.9k

notes: DON'T LOOK AT ME.

series masterlist | next chapter

Waving at your mom from atop the porch, you couldn't help but feel the giddiness bubbling up inside. At last, the house would be peaceful without her snide remarks about what you're, how you're speaking, how you're sitting, and so on. The comfort of relaxing in your own sanctuary was something you've eagerly anticipated since she announced her week-long departure. Although it meant seven days of serenity, your stepdad, Joel, would still be around, which was fine by you. Compared to your mom, Joel was the cool, calm, and collected one, making him the favored parent in your eyes.

As her car disappeared around the corner, you dashed back inside and inadvertently slammed the door with too much force. You winced and clenched your jaw, hastily covering your mouth with your hands as Joel stomped around the corner, his deep frown evident, and large hands planted on his hips in a wide stance.

"What have I told you about slamming doors in this house?" he asks, eyebrows raised, head tilted, waiting for your response. He gestures impatiently when you hesitate. His tone is stern, and his expression suggests he is not in the mood for games.

"Sorry, Joel," you say meekly, your lips curving into a small pout, your heart pounding in your chest while his stern expression remains unchanged. Tears begin to fall before you can hold them back. With a soft sniffle, you turn away, embarrassed, to wipe them off.

You hear him let out a deep sigh from as you try to hold in your little cries. You hear his slow, heavy footsteps as he approaches. Then, you feel his big hands rubbing up and down your arms before turning you around to pull you into his chest. He hushes you softly, tutting quietly when your cries turn into whimpers.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, bending down to kiss your head softly. "No need for tears. I ain't mad at you, silly girl." With a curled forefinger, he gently lifts your chin. He dabs at your tears and plants another kiss on your forehead, the sensation of his scruff against your skin causing you to close your eyes.

"You're not?" you ask shyly, sniffling quietly as you begin to calm down. "But you seemed angry at me, Joel. It was very scary." Fidgeting with the buttons on his flannel shirt, you remain too nervous to meet his gaze, especially given the close proximity.

Joel's lips form into a grin as he realizes the storm of emotions that you're feeling. Now that the two of you will be alone for one whole week, he finally has enough time on his hands to break you down and put you back together repeatedly. He's finally going to be able to mold you into his perfect little dream girl.

"What can Daddy do to help you feel better?" Hm? Tell me," he says softly, urging you to gaze into his eyes, which you did. Hearing what he called himself made you laugh, which made his grin grow wider. "What's so funny, huh?" Poking you in your side, he laughs when you squirm.

"Mom said I shouldn't call you that," you say, releasing a soft sigh and returning to your button fidgeting. "She says that I'm old enough to use your name, and she thinks it's weird." Your voice carries a touch of sadness that Joel picks up on. He clenches his jaw at the thought of your mother's judgment over something so inconsequential to her.

Joel lifts your head gently, placing his finger under your chin. He gazes into your shining eyes, your eyelashes stuck together from the heavy tears that are beginning to dry. His other hand grips your hip, causing you to make a small noise. Being this close to him, looking up like this, felt so wrong. It was an uncomfortable closeness, especially from an outsider's perspective.

"Alright," Joel says with a playful sigh, bringing a smile to your face. "Fortunately, we have the entire house to ourselves for a whole week. I might not be as young as I used to be, but I'll do my best to keep up with whatever you want to do. Does that sound good?"

You hum loudly, swaying your hips from side to side in Joel's embrace while resting your chin on his head and jutting your backside out to gaze up at him more comfortably. He swallows hard, stifling a strained groan. You remain unaware, preoccupied with thoughts about how to kick off your week. Suddenly, as if an invisible light bulb shined brightly atop your head, your expression lights up.

"Movie night! With snacks! Oh, please, Daddy? Pleeeaaase," you whine, stretching out the last word as you pout and make puppy-like noises. Joel rolls his eyes and gives your backside a gentle pat, a familiar gesture from your private moments together. Now, he can express his affection openly, without hiding it from your mother in the same house.

"Get your butt upstairs and get ready," he motions with his head, signaling you to hurry. With a delighted squeal, you leap up, press a kiss on his stubbled cheek, and scamper up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door shut. A muffled apology comes through the door, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

The market was unexpectedly bustling. Each cash register featured a lengthy queue of customers eager to check out. Amidst the commotion, you found yourself drawing nearer to Joel, clutching the back of his shirt as you attempted to match his brisk pace.

"Make sure to stay close to me, sweetheart. We don't want you to get lost, okay?" Joel had repeatedly told you during the drive and now.

You nearly regret wearing such a pretty outfit on a hectic day. Dressed in a simple summer dress with delicate straps, sheer thigh-highs, and petite wedges, you find yourself wishing you had planned more wisely. But Joel's constant compliments, calling you pretty and ain't you a peach made it worth it.

As minutes passed, you inadvertently drifted away from Joel. You had both wandered through the candy aisle when the array of lollipops, gummy bears, and jellybeans captured your gaze. Standing there, like a child in a candy store, you were practically quivering with excitement at the thought of your stepdad purchasing anything you desired. While reaching for a small bag of gummy worms, you were jostled by someone, prompting a gasp to escape your lips as the bag slipped from your grasp.

A hand reaches down, picks it up, and extends towards you, presenting the bag. You tentatively accept it from the man, turning to face him and feeling a wave of discomfort at his unkempt appearance. He gives you a once-over as he licks his bottom lip. The sight of his thinning hair and prominent belly does little to ease your unease.

"I apologize for that, sweetheart," the term makes you recoil as it feels off when he utters it. When Joel says it, it elicits a sensation of floating and tingling. "I wasn't paying attention where I was going, but you certainly are a pretty sight. Are you here by yourself?" His unsettling stare compels you to want to shield your skin and escape to a distant place.

You sweep the aisle with your eyes, searching desperately for Joel's familiar broad form. Your heart and thoughts are calling out to him, wishing he could sense your distress telepathically and come to your aid against this nasty man. Gripping the candy bag closer to your chest, you watch as he edges nearer, feigning interest in a label just over your shoulder.

"My, uh, my stepdad... he... he, uh..." You couldn't bring yourself to form words as the man's fingers adjusted the fallen strap of your dress. Whimpering quietly, you pressed yourself harder into the shelf, closing your eyes tightly and silently hoping that this man would just go away.

Before the man could approach further, a large shadow loomed over your closed eyelids. As you opened your eyes, you were confronted with Joel's broad back, his masculine scent overwhelming your senses. His hands were balled into fists. Peering around him, you caught sight of the man's eyes, wide with fear, his expression betraying his predatory intentions. As your gazes locked, Joel once again shielded you with his frame.

"I suggest you walk away right now before you find yourself picking up your teeth from the ground," Joel warns in a low, menacing tone that you've never heard before—not even with your mother or step-uncle. It's terrifying to hear him like this, yet there's comfort in knowing he can protect you should things turn violent.

The man dashes out of the aisle, abandoning his basket of groceries without hesitation. Joel remains in front of you briefly, ensuring the man doesn't come back to check if you're alone again. As he turns to face you, the anger in his eyes and the scowl on his face grow more pronounced. He presses you against the shelf, invading your space in an intimidating manner.

"What the hell did I just tell you before we came here?!" he exclaims, almost shouting, his brows furrowed and his voice booming. "I ain't the one you should be playin' games with, little girl." He points a finger at your face, leaning in until his breath skims across your skin. "Repeat it," he commands in a deep, rough voice.

"I… I…" Overwhelmed by the situation, you burst into tears and cling to Joel, burying your face in his chest once more, sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry, Daddy! I didn't mean to get distracted! And then that man, he wouldn't leave me alone!" Joel struggles to understand you through your sobs, but he hushes you gently, enveloping you in his strong arms and softly patting your back.

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, a gesture of exasperation at your naivety, so oblivious and innocent to the world around you. As your cries subside to hiccups and faint squeaks, he gently eases you away from his chest, indifferent to the tear stains on his shirt.

"Listen to me, and listen well," he says, his tone stern yet his large palms gently cupping your cheeks. "Men like that are the ones that wanna take you away from me. They wanna keep you locked away and keep you for their own. You're not smart enough to be left alone, sweetheart, because you get put into these situations and you don't know how to act. That's why when Daddy tells you to do something, you do it. Is that understood? Nod your head." He notices your eyes glazing over as you listen to him speak. Mimicking a nod, you snap out of your trance and return the gesture.

"I don't want anyone to take me away from you, Daddy," you whisper, the thought of being separated from Joel filling you with terror, and tears swiftly gather at the edge of your eyes once more. "It's scary."

Joel tuts at you, lowering his head to kiss your tear-stained cheeks. The salty taste of your tears on his tongue had a warmth spreading throughout his lower half. "I know, babydoll. I know," he murmurs, giving your butt a series of gentle pats as he kisses your forehead. "Daddy's here now. Get your snacks so we can leave."

That evening, you change into your sheep-patterned sleep shorts, a light white camisole, and cozy thigh-high socks. As you spin in front of the mirror, Joel's voice faintly calls you downstairs to start the movie. Laughing with excitement at the prospect of a movie night free from your mother's watchful eye, you clutch your beloved stuffed plushie and head out of your room.

Joel lounges on the couch, clad in sweatpants and a casual t-shirt. A bowl of buttered popcorn and assorted snacks are spread out on the coffee table. Beside him, a beer for himself and, thoughtfully, your preferred strawberry kiwi juice. The sound of your footsteps hurrying down the stairs reaches him. He contemplates reprimanding you, yet as you appear, the words dissipate unspoken.

The cool air made your nipples turn into peaks that poke through your thin top. The thigh-highs squeeze your thighs and makes them look extra plushy and grabbable. He takes a deep swallow and sips his beer, his gaze fixed on your appearance. You extend your hands, silently inquiring about your look. Joel scans you from head to toe once more, giving a nod of approval as his jaw tightens.

"You look very pretty, baby doll," he tells you in a strained voice, motioning for you to come closer as he lays out across the couch, his back against it. "Come cuddle so we can start the movie."

Approaching, he could detect the uncertainty in your body language and facial expressions. "Are… Are you sure we should cuddle? Will my mom be upset?" The naive inquiry prompted a rough chuckle from Joel. Your embarrassment was palpable as he laughed openly at your question.

"Oh, honey," he mocks sympathy and stares at you from his sprawled position on the couch. "You seem to keep forgetting in that little head of yours that I'm in charge of this house, and whatever I say, goes. Now, when I tell you to come over here, I expect you to do it without questioning me."

The commanding tone of his voice brooked no argument. To enjoy the week with Joel, you had to push your doubts and hesitations away, instead of fretting over your mother's opinion on the closeness between you two. Joel seemed to understand better; he knew what was best for you, and as he put it, his word was final.

As you approached where he lay, you could just make out him whispering, "That's my girl." The praise made you blush, cherishing the moments when you're told you're doing well and being a good girl for it. Joel consistently offered such verbal reassurance, never hesitating, even in your mother's presence. She, however, often showed her irritation with his way of praising you.

For god's sake, Joel. She's a woman, not a little girl anymore.

You eagerly lay beside him, your back pressed against his chest, as Joel draped a blanket over both of you and started the movie, "The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent." It was a moment you had anticipated ever since you mentioned to Joel how much the character Javi resembled him. Trembling with excitement, you snuggled closer to Joel, your smile buried in the stuffed animal you held, while his arm drew you in even tighter. A pleasant hum vibrated from his chest against your back.

Only thirty minutes into the movie, Joel heard a soft snore beside him. With furrowed brows, he leaned over and saw your closed eyes and parted lips, your arms clutching your stuffed animal to your chest as you hummed sleepily. Shaking his head, he lay back and pulled you closer, smiling to himself as you unconsciously snuggled into him. When Joel makes sure that you're fully asleep, he inches hips back and lowers the blanket off your body. Your sleep shorts had ridden up your thighs, further exposing your lower cheeks and giving him a glimpse of your panties.

"Fuck," he breathes out, feeling his cock beginning to harden and thicken in his sweatpants. With one hand holding onto your hip to keep you steady, Joel begins to grind his cock against your ass, slotting his covered thickness between your cheeks and breathing heavily into the back of your neck. "Goddamn."

You never once stir as you're so deep in your slumber, unaware of the world around you and what Joel is doing to your unconscious body. He can practically feel his tip leaking in his sweats, the gray color darkening as precum stains the fabric. Erratically, but careful enough to not wake you, he lowers his sweatpants and guides his thick cock between your thighs, the tightness of them closed creating a delicious friction that had his mouth dropping. Joel hikes your shorts higher up your waist, forcing the fabric tighter against the shape of your virgin pussy.

He fucks his hips forward and back, sliding his cock deeper between your thighs and further against your covered cunt. Sweat dots at his hairline and the back of his neck as the warmth in his gut coils tighter and tighter. He hears the distinct slick of his precum staining your inner thighs as he abuses them without your knowledge.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunts low in his throat, his hand tightening on your hip to position your body in a better way for him to fuck your thighs. "Daddy is such a dirty man, ain't he?" He fucks your thighs faster and faster, his thighs slapping against the back of your own gently. Surprisingly, the movement and noise doesn't wake you.

As he continues muttering to himself, Joel doesn't realize just how close he was. His balls were heavy with cum, waiting to be exploded onto your unexpected skin. The tip of his cock was throbbing with need and dribbling with more precum. His abdomen tightens when you shift and arch your back in your sleep, briefly tightening your thighs and rubbing them together.

The sudden friction had Joel choking on air before he hunches over your body and watches his cum shoot out of his engorged tip and onto the couch. He's biting down on the pillow as his thighs shake. He just won't stop cumming.

"Holy shit," he grunts quietly, falling back against the couch and swiping a hand down his sweaty face. He breathes heavily, wincing and tucking himself back into his sweatpants. He glances over at the tv, and Javi comes onto screen. He scoffs and shakes his head to himself. He doesn't see the resemblance.

taglist:

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @blueberrypancakesworld @heyhihello-4771 @codenamekitten @chamepagnessimo @idioticcatss @takochansugoi @zjasminelouvre3

!! let me know if you wanna be added to the next chapter !!

[0luv9]

forlorn || mattheo riddle

Summary: based on this request.

Beware: angst, fluff, slightly aged-up characters, Hufflepuff reader, sweet reader, she/her pronouns used, mostly in second person, jealousy, mistreatment, a little bit of blood, slightly commanding(?) and intimidating Mattheo.

Words: 7.8k (not beta read)

Note: I am sorry luv, I don't think I did justice to the request. I also apologize for taking so long. I still hope you like it, even if it's just a bit. @cat-loves-music

Mattheo Riddle, son of Voldemort, or Tom Riddle if you will—for a more humane approach. But then, there's no humanity in the way he's treated. Always an outsider, always a monster.

There is wealth to his name; after all, he is the only living heir of Salazar Slytherin. However, his blood is corrupt, shunned by the very people who kissed the steps his baby feet took. Looked down on by the blood supremacists and not accepted by the other side, the "good side."

Even he was tired of the same sob story. He doesn't even need to introduce himself; they already have a preconceived image of him in their minds. He could try to fix his image in an ideal world, but even then, what would he say?

'Hello, everyone, I'm Mattheo Riddle, son of the man who once threatened your lives. Please welcome me with warm hands.'

Too cliché? Yes, but it's true and the only truth he knew.

Riddle didn't even know why the name Riddle was cursed and didn't know what his father did that made everyone's hate transcend generations. What made their hatred justified and his hate a crime? He didn't know until it was too late.

Mattheo was raised by the only living relative of his, his mother's aunt—the one who died recently. The one who kept all this hidden away from him hid all the Hogwarts' letters, raised him like her own, and protected him until her last breath. She loved him but all within the vicinity of the manor. He didn't know the world that existed beyond those walls.

He knew about the world outside only through the books she'd let him read. He thought it would feel liberating to step off the lavish floors onto the rich earth. It was everything but that.

"But Nona, why can't I go outside?" he remembers asking that silly question when he was about nine. What he wouldn't do to get that naivety back.

"Because, my dear, there are people out there who wouldn't like you. There are bad people outside ready to punish you," he also remembers crying when she told him that. He didn't understand why people would hate him. He just wanted to try the chocolate frogs he read about.

He just wanted to talk to all the different animals out there, the same way he could talk to the garden snakes.

"But I didn't do anything wrong, Nona. Tell them that I'm a good boy. I can even give them some of my toys. Will they like me then?" If only it were that easy. His Nona cried for the first time in front of him then, looking at all the toys he had set onto her lap, looking at her with teary eyes, pleading, "I didn't do anything wrong, Nona, I promise."

Mattheo didn't understand her tears back then, but now as he stands all alone, those same tears fall out his eyes. It's useless. "They'll know that someday, moon pie. You aren't wrong. They'll know." They'll know? What a fucking joke.

Mattheo tries to enjoy the view in front of him, you know. But how can he? When his batchmates are out there partying and enjoying life, he's been a lone wolf all his life. Yet in moments like this, he seems to forget his old ways of existing.

There's not much he can do anyway; he's not needed anywhere. In fact, they all want him gone. Finding beauty in small things is hard when misery clings to him. There's self-loathing in the way he thinks about the night and himself. There's nothing positive he can say.

You'd think that he must've gotten used to it all by now. No, he hasn't; it only got worse. At least little Mattheo held hope that people would understand someday or the other. Every bit of hope was destroyed by the very people who would've feared him had his father been alive. In moments like this, he wished he could see the man, live as the son they paint him as.

He'd have someone to lean onto then, someone to call his own. At least his father would've loved him. But this last bit of consolidation too was stolen away from him when he got to know that he was a backup plan for his father. Mattheo Riddle was not supposed to exist. His father wanted to live on forever; he was the last option the so-called Dark Lord had, to produce an heir and have them further his cause, and control his life as Tom lived on his last lifeline.

But all of it died with him. Mattheo promised himself that he would never be the man they all expected him to be, the man they wanted to point fingers at. So, he stayed in line. But then he thinks, sometimes, maybe, what if—you know?

He simply stares up at the brightly lit sky, it's a shame that he's the only one out there to appreciate the scenic beauty because he's physically and mentally incapable of appreciating anything, you can't blame him now, can you?

Cold breeze in mid-August, how fucking ridiculous just like this life of his, so unlike his peers, who were out there partying and having the time of their lives, the music vibrating through the walls was like salt on wounds. He'd like to drink a few and chat with his friends but then again, he hasn't got any. And it's the bitter truth that he's not welcome there, he'd be greeted with nasty looks if he tried to enter any such party, they'd all glance his way like the ominous thing he is. It's times like this when he really contemplates it.

Mattheo looks down from the height he's on, no one would care anyway, the fall will kill him, might just give it an actual try unlike those previous attempts- he's been a coward all his life, never ready to face the extremes of life but he has nothing to protect at the moment, he's come far too long, life was never going to be worth it.

He climbs over the railing onto the brick ledge, sitting down for a moment, to take it all in for the last time ever. Mattheo remembers all the whispers that followed him, the suspicious looks passed along the way, those words of disdain- at the same time the thoughts of a happy life enter his mind, it all feels unattainable, in fact, he's so far gone he can't even picture joy, all he sees is bright colours when he thinks of a happy life.

Mattheo had desperately sought relief all his life, but the pain only worsened with time, it's only reasonable to want to end this feeling of hopelessness. The weight of his family's legacy feels heavy on his shoulders. He slouches over and looks down once again, sighing as his eyes shift to the ring on his finger, the other Gaunt ring, he slowly removes it- a pathetic heir he is, he doesn't deserve it, couldn't live up to the name, disappointing both sides of the world.

Maybe they should have destroyed this along with his father's ring but apparently, his dear sweet Nona thought he could change their fate, change the course of history, change the Gaunt legacy for the better, fuck- he couldn't even try and change people's perception about him. Even in this sense, he's nothing like his predecessors, incapable of leaving a mark, of changing the world, be it for the better or the worse. He's just fucking worthless- he fiddles with the ring as he shifts a bit closer to the edge, ready to let go of it.

"Nice ring," he turns around startled, "Mattheo, isn't it?" not Riddle? He hadn't heard his own name in a long time, no one had directly addressed him in years let alone called him by his first name. It all feels foreign, he simply nods not knowing what to say. "Do you mind if I join you?" you don't wait for a response though and carefully bend and climb through the gaps between the two rails, settling down beside him. "Hi, I'm-" he doesn't hear it, he's too focused on your face, you were dolled up, for the party he thinks, but then why are you here of all places? Was this some kind of prank? He steals a glance back at the entrance and the seemingly empty hallway, to see if anyone is waiting for a reaction.

"You know you shouldn't sit so close to the edge, you might fall down," you grab his forearm urging him to move back, your hand feels warm on his skin, it feels unnatural, his hands are always cold. Even though it's on him for a couple of seconds he can't help the multiple emotions going on about in his mind and before he can sort them out, his mouth decides to act on its own, "Why aren't you at the party?" "Oh-" you look disappointed, and he apologises right away, not wanting to upset the only person who had the decency to talk to him, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he's quick to defend himself, it's a natural response after all but you only seemed amused, "No, it quite alright, I was just surprised by your voice-" "Is it that bad?" "Gosh no! It's just not what I expected, quite rough, it's nice," you are quick to shut him up, "And about your question, I am annoyed at my friends forcing me to try more drinks and all, I just came up here to relax."

"I can leave if you'd like," you add on as an afterthought, but you really didn't want to go, it was the only place with some peace, unlike the loud corridors and dorms, where you were mad at your friends and were in no mood for a party. "No, it's quite alright, I was just surprised," he tries to lighten the mood, repeating your words jokingly, it works, you laugh and properly look at him instead of the waters ahead.

"Haha so funny," you say in a monotonous voice, trying to act like you didn't just laugh but you can't contain your smile, and he finds it quite beautiful. You look down at the ring between the two of you, "it's a beautiful ring I must say," You compliment it again since he hadn't acknowledged it before. Mattheo thanked you quietly trying to think of a response that might not make you run away from him.

It's been only a few minutes and you've said more nice things to him than he has ever heard in his whole life, it's quite ridiculous when he thinks about it, seemingly you find it quite easy to compliment him. He stays quiet not knowing how to take a compliment, but you don't let the silence continue, you look around trying to find something to talk about and soon enough you start talking and he's glad, "You know about those plants right there?" you point to the shrubs at some distance from the castle walls. Mattheo shakes his head unable to recall if he had seen them before. "It's alright but now that you know, you have something to look forward to this upcoming month!" you smile yet again, cheerful that you have something to share.

"What's special about them?" "It's not the plant itself but the fireflies that live there!" Mattheo tries hard to keep up with your energy and pace, "Why aren't they out now? They aren't migratory, are they?" "That's what makes it special unlike fireflies that are present throughout the summer, these ones light up only for the last week of August," "I'll look forward to it," "You should! I missed it last year and then everyone thought I was lying when I mentioned it." Mattheo frowns, "No one knows about them? Not even the professors?" "The professors would know but it wasn't that serious that I'd take it up to them," Mattheo finds it difficult to relate, he always would let everyone know that he was in the right if the facts favour him because no way in hell would he let anyone see him in the wrong light, he couldn't bear to be in the wrong.

And it slips out his mouth, "I would've argued till they knew I was right," "I don't like arguing though, reminds me of my parents, they parted ways because they argued a lot, so I try to avoid it myself," his lips purse trying to think of an appropriate response, "Anyway, you are in Slytherin right?" it wasn't a question, you just knew, "I'm in Hufflepuff, nice to meet you!" you turn towards him and extend your hand with a smile, he can't help but mirror your smile, "Nice to meet you indeed." Your hand feels soft in his, he was finding it hard to let go but you pull your hand back almost instantly- remembering something, "OH right I forgot, do you like chocolates?" Mattheo was quite taken aback by your energetic self, it was infectious, "Of course you do, it's a silly question, I mean who doesn't like chocolate-" you stop midway and fix him with a scrutinising look, "Unless you are some heartless monster-" "Nah I like chocolate alright," "Good good."

You fish through your jacket's pocket and pull out two chocolate bars, "It's muggle chocolate," you place one in his hand, "Muggle? I've never had muggle candy," Mattheo inspects the small sweet in his hand, "You are missing out then!" you chuckle as you take the wrapper off yours, "I'll eat it tomorrow, thank you," He pockets it and looks ahead with a small smile, tonight's beautiful now that he looks at it.

"You are a muggle born then?" Mattheo can't help but want to know more, because how dare his fucking father go after your lot, "Yep, I was surprised you know? To receive the letter, I thought it was some prank but of course, after a few days I realised how real it was, couldn't have been happier, to be away from home." It's funny because all Mattheo wants to do is go back to the gloomy old mansion and here you were saying the opposite, the stark difference between the two of you was obvious to him.

You ramble on and he listens, it's nothing but enjoyable to listen to mundane stories being narrated with such interest, he finds himself smiling a bit too much, to the point where his face hurts but he doesn't care because you are quite the lovely company to be around.

Muggle-born, the same year as him, Hufflepuff, living with your mom- it's not the best back home he gathers that much. You were angry at your friends and were going to hold a grudge if they didn't apologise. He learned a lot about you in that one hour and learned a few things about him as well, he didn't know he had jokes like that OR you were just too kind to laugh at his bad quips, whatever it was he was grateful because you didn't make him feel bad or like a burden. Mattheo was glad that you were the talkative one and that you didn't expect him to share anything if he wasn't comfortable, also the fact that he didn't want to send you running away by talking more about himself.

He admires the fond smile you wear when you talk, the stars reflect a bit too brightly in your eyes, and he inhales breathing in your scent, it's surreal, the moment. Mattheo didn't quite think properly until you left, wishing him a good night, "it was nice spending time with you, Mattheo!" He wonders if you knew how much it meant to him.

...

He finds out your name the next day and sees you everywhere, it's annoying because he was tired since he couldn't sleep thinking all night about you and now he has to see your face again. Now that he knows you, he can't seem to avoid you, earlier it was easy to be blind but now, everything else seems like a blind spot but you. Or maybe it's that his head is not hanging low, avoiding looking up at people.

Mattheo got over the irritation rather quickly, discreetly looking at you, eyes following every movement of yours. But you don't look at him once, he was just like any other guy to you, the realisation both hurts and feels nice, knowing that you don't demonise him but also the fact that he's no one special either. And maybe, he can live with that.

He notices the large number of people you keep around, you are never alone, always surrounded by a group and you are always the one talking, you are clearly popular. How had he not noticed you before? But then again he knew no one in the school apart from the professors, he never tried to get to know anyone because of course his fate wouldn't allow that.

Mattheo seeks out the solace of the library to keep you out of his mind for a while but the plan doesn't seem to work when he finds the chocolate you gave him in his bag. He simply sighs, knowing that there is no escape, unwarps the sweet and pops it into his mouth, shutting his eyes, and recalls your sweet smile. Warmth takes over his body, it feels nice like this, he has to talk to you once again because that can't be the only interaction he has with you, not when it's all he can think about. He breathes out slowly, staring down at the wrapper and mindlessly reading the information on the back, his jaw tightens as he realizes his stupid pathetic feelings. Mattheo puts the wrapper in his quill case and tries to study with a head full of you.

...

Okay, now it was really starting to bother him, he practically couldn't keep his eyes off you, it's like a spell had charmed him in. He wasn't even trying to be discreet at this point, he downright stared at you from a distance, it was creepy, he was aware of that but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. Mattheo doesn't like this new feeling you've instilled in him, it's sweet and it's fucking uncomfortable. He finds it extremely difficult to get rid of you from his thoughts, so he gives up on trying and lets his mind go on autopilot.

The way you talked to him without any judgement in your eyes that day, the images of you repeated over and over again in his mind. Even when he sees you with someone else he can't help but think you are in front of him telling him a story, with those animated expressions of yours, but then seconds later he comes to his senses and sees the smile that's not directed at him, the one you gave to everyone, him too. He thinks it was your pity, that made you talk to him. He didn't feel like he was burdening you then but now when he thinks of approaching you, he knows he'd be burdening you. Your life looks no different, every day is full of joy, and you aren't smiling any less.

Why would you talk to him of all people? Perhaps, you only talked to him that day because you needed a change of scenery and not because you wanted to, he's wrong in thinking that but he's also deluded. It's the only way he keeps himself at peace, to not see meaning in your words, to not long for your company.

But he's a Riddle after all, some things just run in your blood, he has his eyes set on you and he finds it difficult to look away. New dream of his, and he'd like to have it, no matter how unattainable it feels. Yet he hasn't got a clue, it's all too new, and he doesn't know what to do, he'd like to have a plan but what would the plan even say? Go and talk to her? Yeah, like he's about to embarrass himself in front of her.

...

Your eyes stretch at the sight of him sitting in the library, alone but not in some deserted corner, he had claimed the whole couch in the centre of the room, sitting right in the middle, reading a book leaning back, a frown on his face. He looked intimidating, and to be honest, you were scared of him, the little beer in you that night had given you the courage to approach him, maybe your fate was too kind to let you find him that night but now your nerves were on fire.

It was no secret to you that he had been staring at you the past couple of weeks, but you couldn't understand the look on his face, his jaw was always clenched, eyes narrowed, and not a hint of emotion on his face. Was he mad at you? Was he the planning on-

No. You didn't like to think about it, you didn't want him to be the man they paint him as, he's just a boy, your age, maybe that's another reason why you hadn't approached him. Staying away because you were scared that they'd be right, you'd rather delve into what ifs than actually be heartbroken, your imagination brought you bliss.

But would it really be your mind if it would let you just forget it? You think and think, getting worked up over every little interaction you've had with him. How could he be evil? He talked to you so nicely the other day, even- even though you were a muggle-born, a mud blood. But when you see how he looks at you, you can't help but feel scared.

It really was an intimidating sight, your courage wore thin but you had made up your mind. You approach him cautiously, as you greet him, you start feeling jittery and flushed, "Hey Mattheo."

Mattheo jerked his head up as he heard your voice, surprised, caught off guard in fact, he didn't trust his words just yet so he simply nodded at you, acknowledging your presence, closing the book and setting it aside, all his attention on you. "I came here to study and noticed you," you look around bashfully before continuing, "I just wanted to ask you if you liked the chocolate I gave you the other day, you know the one with dark brown wrapper-" "Yeah I did," He stops you from rambling on, not that he had any problem with it but you clearly seemed nervous, he just wanted to ease your nerves, "Right so-" you quickly pull out a small pack of the chocolate from your sling bag placing it beside him, straightening up, "I'll go then, enjoy-" you are quick to turn away from him, cursing yourself in your mind, blaming yourself for making things more awkward than they already were.

Mattheo stops you in your tracks as he calls you by your name, you turn around, and he speaks in that cold voice of his, "You said you were here to study right?" you nod timidly, clutching onto the straps of your bag, he leans back and with a flick of his wrist, a table and chair are summoned in front of him, "then study," he motions to the chair opposite of him.

You were quite taken aback, you stood there for a bit before actually registering his words, and you quietly sat down, you didn't have it in you to disobey him, he was Mattheo Riddle for fucks sake, he looked and sounded like someone who doesn't take no for an answer.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you carefully sit down, looking down, not meeting his gaze, he couldn't believe it, you obliged his wishes? Mattheo leaned back fully, arms folding as he watched you, brown eyes capturing each detail, amusement crawled over his face as he watched you pull out multiple books all at once, various colourful stationery items sprawled out all over the table. You looked pretty like this, stray strands of hair framing your face, lips pursed in concentration. He knew how creepy he was being, so he opened his book again and tried to read but he simply couldn't not when you were sitting in front of him, he relished your presence and this was so unlike the others, every time he had looked at you- you had been surrounded by people, so it was a sight to behold, only for him to admire. So he did, in secret, glancing up at you, every few seconds.

It's been two hours and not once did he get bored of looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face as you closed your books and looked up at him, "How's that book?" you nod towards the book in his hand- the one he was supposed to be reading, "Good, good" he bites the inside of cheek as he lies through his teeth, "Got everything done?" he sets his book aside, fixing you with a soft stare, "Yes, I just wanted to revise a bit, I forget stuff easily if I don't revise regularly," you tilt your head a bit, his eyes were much softer now, and it made your heart flutter a bit, feeling a lot more comfortable than before, so you do what you usually do when you are comfortable- talk.

"By the way, did you study for the upcoming herbology test?" And before he could answer, you pulled out a piece of paper from your bag, "This is like the holy grail, a senior gave it to me last year, it has all the specifics, of recognising plants and how to make generalised guesses about their uses-" you speak in a hushed voice, slightly leaning over the table, eyes wide as you shared your little secret, "you can have it, I have it memorised haha" You bless him with that pretty smile of yours, pushing the paper towards him, you don't let him refuse the offer and start talking about something else, he gives you a small smile, and it makes your insides turn into mush, you bite your lip trying to contain your smile, eyes shy as you start fiddling with your hands on your lap.

You talked for hours, he was much more open this time, and the conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, it was you who mostly did the talking but he didn't seem to mind he looked more than pleased, he didn't like talking much, it seemed, so you filled in the gaps, made it look so effortless like it was easy talking to him, maybe it was easy for you but to him, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. You two stopped only when the librarian came in and told you it was curfew time, your eyes widened as you turned to look back at him, an amused smile on your face, both of you got up, walking beside each other, not uttering a word till you were out of the librarian's stern gaze.

"I made you miss dinner-" your eyes widened further as soon as the two of you got out, stepping into the empty hallway, "it's alright, I don't mind," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, he chuckled at your antics, "yeah sure, but your stomach would, but- we can sneak into the kitchens, you know, sneak some food out," you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a sheepish grin on your face, he scoffs in disbelief, a fond smile gracing his face, "something tells me, this isn't your first time sneaking around."

"No, it's not," you chuckle a bit before continuing, "So, are you coming or not?" you purse your lips, looking up at him with doe eyes and he questions your motives right then because there's no way you didn't have a clue about what you were doing, "would be an idiot to say no," he muttered under his breath shaking his head, "I didn't catch that-", "Yes, I am."

You give him a pleased smile, you looked so happy at that moment, he was rooted in his position as you started walking ahead of him, he had to look away to catch his breath, "Merlin" he exhaled, a hand reaching over to his chest to soothe his loud thumping heart, and in that moment he knew he was a goner.

"Mattheo-?" you turned around since you didn't hear him walk with you but soon he rushed to your side the moment you looked back, you gave him another smile as he walked beside you, he looked straight ahead then, you needed to stop doing that because no fucking way- would he be able to let go of you.

You lead him to the kitchen, both of you cautious, well just you- he was having the time of his life, getting a detention would be worth it, just a small price to pay. Mattheo repeatedly stole glances here and there, the moment you entered the kitchen, you grabbed his arm and pulled his painfully slow self in, "gosh- you sure do walk slow," you glare at him, but there's no malice in your eyes, instead they are just amused, you roll your eyes when he just shrugs in response, moving over to the tables. Mattheo just looked at you with fond eyes, he was just trying to buy more time with you by walking slowly and he didn't feel one bit guilty about it, he felt a bit too proud. 

You sigh dramatically before returning to him with a small tray in your hands, "I didn't find anything else, apart from these blueberry muffins," your eyes wander around once more trying to see if you missed something, "usually there's still stuff left, that's weird- oh well, at least we have these," you give him a small defeated smile, setting the tray on the table, shrugging as you felt that muffins weren't worth the effort of sneaking around and that you only troubled him further. Mattheo saw through you and he hated that you were feeling that way, "didn't I mention this to you? I love muffins, especially the blueberry ones." he gave you a small smile, picking up the muffin, taking a bite, "yeah, that's good, way better than the dry vegetable and chicken pies they make." He didn't look at you as he said that, but you smiled, realising what he was trying to do, you wanted to cry, why was he being so considerate? You were now beginning to go down a spiral, of all the times you thought of him in the wrong light, how dare you even think like that? 

Mattheo caught you staring and it was hard for him to control the heat that rose to his cheeks, he cleared his throat, "What? You don't like these? Well, guess they are all for me-" he teased, taking the tray in his hand and started walking away, "Hey! No-" you rushed after him with an amused smile, "I want one too," and the tray was shoved back into your hands, "better not eat all of them, yeah?" he gave you a small cheeky wink, leaning against the table, finishing the muffin in his hand. 

Mattheo offered to walk you back to your dorm, he didn't have to insist much, after all, you wanted to spend time with him too, you easily agreed after a couple of tries. You two walked in comfortable silence, as you neared the Hufflepuff dormitory, you were thinking about how you'd part ways, overthinking about what would be appropriate and in the mix of it, you just gave him an awkward side hug, squeezing his arm a bit before mumbling a quick "goodnight" and rushing in. 

He couldn't believe his eyes, were you blushing? No way, he must be imagining things. Mattheo could still feel your warm touch lingering on his side, the scene playing over and over again in his mind, he wanted to scream out of excitement- he was getting cuteness aggression, had to be it, his fists clenched at his side as he stared at the door, for god knows how long, if he could- he would've squeezed you into a bone-crushing hug, but you were quick, left him speechless. 

He walked back to the Slytherin dorm without any trouble, he closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, he was pretty sure his skin was burning with all the warmth that was flowing through his veins. Merlin, he was embarrassing! Mattheo sighed contently, a big smile on his face as he replayed the whole day, your smile- 

...

The next few days, you guys didn't talk at all, he was back to staring and this time, when you did catch him in the act, instead of pretending you didn't see him, you gave him a knowing smile and a wave. Lingering looks, and subtle greetings, were sweet, Mattheo was now on a new high, he couldn't get enough. But for some reason, he maintained his distance, he stuck to looking at you from afar, it felt comfortable this way, not wanting to taint your reputation by talking to you in front of others, he'd talk to you if it was only you but you were never alone. 

Mattheo starts seeing life for what it is, when he looks at the trees outside, the castle in its entirety, he feels like he is seeing it for the first time. How had he missed this? He finds himself back at the astronomy tower, he looks at the lake ahead, it was a sight to behold, and he is starting to appreciate the view, these days he didn't care about much, you were all he could think about and you were more than pleasant, it was as if the grey lens of his life was replaced with a coloured one, and it would be foolish to credit anyone else but you for it, and he was fucking grateful for it. The reason he was here was, that it was the end of August, and the fireflies you so damn wished to see would be out tonight, he came here just in the hope that he'll get to see you alone. 

He was zoning out when some movement near the edge of the lake caught his eye, it was you- with a few of your friends, his smile faltered the moment he saw some blonde Hufflepuff dude pull you to his side, slinging a hand over your shoulder, you all walked towards the shrubs and didn't have to wait long before the fireflies lit up and started raising above the shrubs. He was about to leave, he was mad for some reason, really pissed- but then he took another look at you. You were standing a bit behind your friends, who had all their attention on the flies ahead, you seemed sad, looking down, messing with the soil beneath your shoe, hands in your jacket. Mattheo could make out the pout on your face, the deflated shoulders, you then turned to look right where he was, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Your posture straightened immediately, the pretty smile returning to your face as you looked up at the astronomy tower balcony, having spotted him, you waved at him. Mattheo nodded, forearms on the railing as he leaned forward, a smile gracing his features, the anger leaving him. You excitedly pointed at the sky, and he nodded, you turned back around when your friend called you and he couldn't look away, he was staring at you till you left, Mattheo started feeling the warmth creep up to him when he saw you making an effort to steal back glances at him. He felt seen, fucking special- 

...

Mattheo still hadn't talked to you, he couldn't catch you alone really, it was starting to get to him, he longed to hear your voice, hear you talk to him- and yet, he didn't have it in him to approach you in front of others, it would ruin you, you thrived in the company of others, he couldn't snatch that away from you. Maybe if he was a bit more selfish, he'd do it, snatch you away from others, have you all to himself but he wasn't about that life, it was something his father would do, he's sure of it, go after what he wants, not caring what others would think- 

Mattheo feels like passing out when you deliberately look at him just to give him a shy smile, a flushed look on your face. He walks away because he cannot handle looking at you, the urge is too strong, to just take you into his arms, he walks out to the empty hallway, a hand over his chest- it had become a subconscious habit of his, whenever you gave him that smile, the one that felt like it was just reserved for him, yeah that one, he felt like he was in heaven, you sent his heart rate through the roof when you did that, it borderline hurt him since he couldn't do much to satiate this feeling. 

The longing was etched into his eyes when he looked at you, one thing he realised was, that when he had his head up, no one dared to look his way, he was enjoying that power for some reason, it filled his veins with something dark, he liked seeing people look down instead of him looking down, it felt fucking nice, and it felt even better when the only person that did look at him, was you. People averted their eyes when he entered the room, choosing to ignore his presence but the fear was very much evident, so he knew they didn't see him staring at you but at this point, he really couldn't bring himself to make an active effort to look away even if someone noticed. 

It was no lie, that Mattheo wasn't up to date with all the gossip and news, he just lived life passively but now that he was out there more, he couldn't help but hear the words that fell onto his ears, Yule Ball, huh. WAIT- ball dance? That meant having a date, who were you going with? Fuck his mind was rambling shit to him, he could not let someone else take you to a fucking dance as their date, no, he wouldn't let that happen. He had to get to you before someone else did, it was nighttime, and tomorrow's the weekend, approaching you will be the first thing he'll do after he wakes up, he has to plan shit out, you know, make it special and heartfelt, you deserved nothing less.

But his heart nearly broke when he overheard two Slytherin guys talking about you. The way one of them talked about you made his blood boil, his jaw clenched tight, nails drawing blood from his palms as they dug into his coarse skin, "I told you not to ask her out, plenty of guys tried and guess what? She rejected them all." the guy who was being talked to only scoffed angrily, "She's a fucking slut, that's what she is, leading people on-" the other boy just stopped him and Mattheo exhaled, a bit relieved because if it wasn't for him, Mattheo would've smacked the guy and pushed him to the fucking wall, "dude, come on, that's not true, all she did was smile at you when you gave her your seat, she's a nice girl," these guys were in the fifth year, he recognised that much, "sure, whatever," the guy walked away to his room, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him. 

Mattheo then gets up and walks towards the guy left behind, the one who stood up for you, when he stands in front of him, he sees the dude cower into the seat, Mattheo tries to speak in a polite voice but the anger is still radiating off him, his irritated stare didn't help either, "she doesn't have a date, yeah?" his hands were behind his back, over one another, the blood still fresh, "who-o?" the guy stutters out, looking around for help but no one was there- "You know who," he fixes him with a glare, before uttering your name out loud, "no no, she doesn't, rejected them all." Mattheo then nods at him and leans back, then finally he walks back to his room, allowing the guy to catch his breath. 

Mattheo feels relief wash over him as he lets the information sink in, okay good, you didn't have a date but then again, why were you rejecting them all? What if you reject him as well? Yeah, he couldn't handle that wound, he'd fucking die, he contemplates whether he should ask you or not but he's done fucking waiting, waiting for his fate to fuck things over, if things are going to be fucked, he'll be the one to do it. 

...

Mattheo puts on a black shirt and black pants, not caring to tuck his shirt in, the cold metal ring stings him as he puts it on, the feeling is grounding, he's doing something his dad would've done and for some reason that doesn't feel half as bad, he feels like himself, it was like something had possessed him, the confidence was unwavering, even as he stepped out into the crowded hallway, hands in his pockets, looking ahead, people parted, giving him space and Merlin, did that feel fucking powerful. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he approached the room you'd be in, you always were there on the weekends, with your friends and he didn't think before he stepped into the room, heads turning towards him in shock, even yours but the shock on your face was soon replaced with a smile, quietly waving at him and that right there, fed right into his ego.

He walked over to you in a few quick strides, eyes zeroed in on you, nothing else mattered at that moment, "Can I talk to you?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement, you were ecstatic, you've wanted this for so long, to talk to him in front of others, you never knew if you should because he might've felt uncomfortable, "Yes ofcourse, what is it?" you nod, a smile still on your face, "Alone," his voice was cold, "oh yeah, sure-" you step towards him, thinking he'd lead you somewhere private but he stayed rooted in his place, eyes never leaving yours, he stayed quiet for a bit, taking in your whole self, the bright clothes you were dressed in, the equally bright smile on your face. Then he looked over your head, to the shocked faces of your friends, "Alone." It came out as an order, he couldn't care less. 

Mattheo liked this newfound authority, he also relished in the fact that you were being so compliant as if you wanted this to happen and he couldn't be more glad, "Guys, I'll be back, you can go ahead, don't worry," you explained, seeing their hesitance, his unwavering gaze was back on you, brown eyes were intense. The apprehensive group slowly emptied the room and just went the last person was out, Mattheo muttered something under his breath, and the door slammed shut, locking itself. 

Mattheo cursed that pretty smile of yours before smiling back, "You have a date? For the ball?" you lowered your eyes to the ground at the question, a shy look grazing your features as you shook your head, the more he looked at you, the more positive he got. "Good."  He finally pulled his hands out of his pocket and suddenly there was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand and a velvet box, he wordlessly handed them to you, your eyes were wide, full of amusement, face warm, you noticed how the lights around you got dimmer, the small mock firefly charms that floated in the air, you didn't have a clue on how he was doing all this without his wand but you couldn't bring yourself to think of it, not when you had him standing in front you, in all his glory, about to ask you to the ball, gosh you felt like you were on cloud nine, the guy you were waiting for had actually approached you? You had to be dreaming. 

Then out of nowhere, you hear your favourite song but on strings, you look down at the box curiously- "It's the muggle chocolate you were talking about, the one you said was hard to get your hands on," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal but in reality, he was finding the courage to finally tell you what he was feeling, ask you out. Your brows pinched together, as you noticed that all of it was a muggle, even the flower arrangement- the song, how did he do all of this? You looked up at him with an amused look. "No questions please," he breathed out like he was out of breath, you then smiled at him gratefully, and he quickly averted his eyes, his hand subconsciously reaching over to his chest, "Oh Merlin," he exhaled quietly, not being able to look back at you. 

He then slowly gathered the courage to look back at you, you were just looking at him patiently, the smile still on your face, Mattheo cleared his throat before opening up, "I have never been the one to be graceful but I want to do this properly." he inhaled sharply before continuing, "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, I think I've gone mad honestly," He lets out a dry chuckle shaking his head, looking into your eyes, "I think I've taken a liking to you, your voice, your smile-" and then he interrupts himself, forgetting the little speech he prepared as he watches your smile widen at his words, "yeah that, more of that please," and that makes you blush, the genuine interest in his eyes, the way admiration shines in his eyes, you are so close to him, that you can hear his heart thumping loudly, "I'd like to have the honour of taking you to the ball," then he says your name quietly, "would you like be my date?" 

"Yes yes!" you couldn't be more excited, you are quick to throw your arms around him, and all the worries leave his body as soon as he is subjected to your embrace, he closes his eyes, pulling you closer, finding everything comfortable in your grip. His heartstrings thrum at the moment, it was embarrassing how quickly you got him flustered but he didn't seem to mind it. He whispered a small "thank you," before hugging you tighter, you just giggled into his chest and Merlin, did he feel like he had just won the lottery.

...

<<prev work: this love || mattheo riddle

[marvel-ouss]

You're Not Sorry

Dad!Charles Leclerc x Mom!Reader

pov: Charles goes to support his cousin in Naples and sees someone he hasn't seen in a long time along with a younger version of himself.

warning: miscommunication, pregnancy, the italics are Charles pov, some swear words, mentions of cheating, mentions of eating

type: angst with happy ending

note: this picture did something to me, I swear I saw Charles talking to his younger self! I almost cried...

It's Jules' 6th birthday today and I promised him that we'd go to the Karting race that is gonna happen in the Naples circuit.

We arrived around 11am so he could greet everyone.

"Hello birthday boy, how are you doing?" Martin asked Jules, he was the first person I met when I first came to Naples. When Martin noticed I was pregnant and I told him it was a boy he said that the first thing he'd do when the child was big enough was take him karting on the circuit he worked. 5 years later Martin kept his promise and now Jules karts regularly.

"I'm good, uncle Matt. I'm really exited to watch the race." Jules said jumping from excitement.

"One day we'll take you to a f1 race, now go join your friends, I need to talk with your mommy" Jules gets out happy with the silent promise. "Have you seen him?"

"Good morning to you too Martin, I'm great and you?"

"Sorry, I'm good. Now answer me" I could tell he was nervous I just didn't know the reason.

"Seen who? Martin are you sure you are okay?"

"Charles." I haven't heard that name in so long. "Giuseppe told us earlier that a f1 drivers was gonna be here I didn't really care but then I remembered Jules so I asked if anyone knew who it was and they told me we had a section booked for the Leclerc family"

"So you are telling me that you were told Charles was gonna be here and told my child to go outside where he his most likely to be seen?" I asked already leaving the stall we were at.

Arriving outside I couldn't find Jules. Martin and I looked at each other and we started looking for Jules.

"Jules where are you?" I screamed hoping for him to hear me “Jules!” I kept screaming, I was scared, what if someone took him? Jules’ the only thing I have left.

"That's her, that's my mommy!" I hear Jules' voice and see him along with the only person I hopped not to see today.

I was in Naples to support my cousin during the karting Championship. When I arrived I greeted as many people as I could and took as much pictures and gave as many autographs as possible. I was walking around when I saw a little boy that reminded me of myself during my early karting days. I looked around to see if there was any adult, maybe a mother or a father, looking for the child, but didn’t see any.

“Hello young man, what are you doing here alone?” I ask the little boy. As I approached I could tell he was crying.

“Can you help me find my mother? I don’t want to be alone forever. My mum can’t be alone, she’ll miss me.” He said with a broken voice.

“Of course, come on let’s look around to see if we can find her. My name is Charles, do you want to tell me your name?” I held his hand and walked around.

“My name is Jules Leclerc but my mommy calls me gioia mia” I couldn’t say a word. Leclerc? How is it possible? A Leclerc that we don’t know about? Maybe it’s just a coincidence, there must be other Leclerc’s out there.

“Jules, where are you? Jules!” I heard a woman’s voice screaming, we went in the direction of the voice.

A woman came into view, I knew her from somewhere. When she turned around I could tell it was y/n. We started dating 8 years ago. But eventually broke up 3 years after. I had just started my F1 career and I'll admit that I started ignoring her and focusing more in my future. So I wasn't surprised when one day I woke up and she wasn't there.

I tried contacting her but it was already too late, I had fucked it up really bad.

“That’s her, that’s my mommy!” Jules said letting go of my hand and running in her direction.

I saw Jules running in my direction and opened my arms. “Gioia mia, don’t ever do that to mommy again, I thought I lost you forever baby”

“I’m sorry mommy, I was with the older boys but they had to go, I looked for you in the stall but you weren’t there anymore.”

“I’m so sorry baby, I was already looking for you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay mommy. Look I made a new friend. His name is Charles.” Jules turned do Charles who was a bit far from us “And Charles, meet my mommy.”

I couldn’t face Charles. I knew we had to talk but I wasn’t ready for it all. At this point Jules must have introduced himself and I know my child well enough so I bet he said his name was Jules Leclerc, he’s always super proud to say his first and last name. I think Jules is too young to connect the dots, he knows my last name is not Leclerc.

I remember the fist time we watched f1 together he noticed and told me that there was Ferrari driver had the same last name as him. Little does he know.

He probably didn’t realise that he was in the presence of THE Charles Leclerc who also happened to be his father.

“Hi Charles, thanks for helping him find me.” A said dryly without making eye contact.

“Hello y/n, haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?” Really? How have I been? He's joking right? First ignores my existence, now is talking to me like nothing has ever happened?

“I’m going. How is f1 being to you?” No, you don't care y/n! What are you doing?

Charles widened his eyes. “It’s going, Ferrari’s not at it’s best but we’ll get there”

“Mommy? He’s Charles Leclerc?” Jules asked confused.

“Yes gioia mia, he’s the f1 driver you talked about the other day”

“Cha, we share the same last name!” He said very enthusiastic.

“Oui mon petit, it seems so” I lift my head to look at Charles but he’s already looking me dead in the soul. I’m fucked.

“Let’s go Jules, let’s look for your uncle Martin he’s very worried as well. Say bye to Charles.”

“Bye Cha.” Jules goes in his direction to give him a hug. Charles gets down so he can hug Jules properly and whispers something in his ear.

“Goodbye Charles.” I say already turning around.

“At least this time she said a proper goodbye." Hypocrite! I can't believe my ears, that bastard... Never mind y/n, he's not worth a scene in front of Jules.

-

The day went by really fast and I didn’t see any of the Leclerc’s throughout the day. Jules had a lot of fun and really enjoyed the day with the other boys. Some of them even took him for a lap around the circuit.

It was 7:30pm when we decided it was time to go.

“Mom do you think I’ll meet other f1 drivers when we go watch one of the races?”

“I don’t know baby, probably. I know some of them, if we find them I’ll introduce them to you, deal?”

“Deal” he said closing the subject and starting to ramble about his day.

I was putting Jules in his car chair when I heard someone calling my name do I closed the door and turned around.

“Y/n, I was looking for you.” Charles was in front of me breathless so I assume he ran on his way here. “We need to talk. I didn’t wanna do it earlier because Jules was there and I didn’t wanna make a scene. But you can’t deny that he’s my child, he looks just like me.” He said all in one breath.

“I won’t deny it, I knew it when I left. Well, that was one of the reasons I left. I wasn't gonna bring I child into your life for you to ignore the both of us, so I figured that leaving was more fitting.” Charles started laughing.

“ Are you kidding me y/n? I would have died for the two of you if you had tol-“ “Really Charles? Are you kidding me? You treated me like shit the last months we were together! You wouldn't even acknowledge my existence!

“Y/n, you could have told me, we would find a way! Instead you left me in the middle of the night!”

“Don't say you were alone when you had another girl!” “I had what? Well that’s news! I didn’t know that.” Charles interrupted me shocked.

“You weren’t?” “No I wasn’t!”

“Charles you were never home, I didn’t know were you were, I needed you when I discovered!”

“I was focused in my job! I didn't even had time for you how was I supposed to be with another woman?”

“You put your job in front of everything else. I waited for you every single night! The night I discovered I was pregnant I had everything planned to tell you, but when you arrived home you just brushed me off! I needed you for fuck sake” I started crying and he hugged me.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby" He kept repeating those words like a mantra.

I heard the car door and soon after felt Jules’ arms wrapped around my leg. “Mommy are you okay?”

“Yes baby, everything’s alright. Sorry for keeping you waiting.” I held Jules and put him back in the car and turned to Charles. “Give me your phone please” he said, so I gave him my phone. He dialed his current phone number and gave me back my phone. “Send me a massage se we can talk better and figure things out okay?”

“Yeah, ciao Cha.” I said going to the drivers seat and making my way home.

-

I put Jules to bed then headed to the kitchen to get my phone and called Charles.

“Hello?” I said when noticed he had answered the phone.

“Y/n? Are you okay?" No, I'm not. For 5 years I thought he stopped caring because he was with someone else. At this point I have no idea what's worse. being cheated on or being left behind because of work

“Hi Cha. I don’t know. At the moment I have a lot on my mind and I don’t know how to process everything.” I said still a little overwhelmed.

“How's Jules?”

“Just put him to bed, he was worried, he never saw me crying.”

“I wanted him to meet my family. You should be there too, my mom and brothers miss you.”

“How? I left you and they miss me?” I said on the verge of tears.

“They know it was my fault. I said you left because I got too occupied with work to pay attention to you and you were done with it. My mom almost killed me that day.”

“Poor Pascale you always gave them the worse time.” Now I was crying.

“I've said it a hundred times and I'll say one thousand more times, I'm so sorry mon amour. I didn't know how to deal with everythin. I'm so so sorry”

“Do you think Pascale still likes me?”

“Of course she does she never stopped loving you, but she likes you ever more now that you gave her her so desired first grandchild” The line went silent after what he said. He accepted Jules so easily. "Why Jules? And why did you keep the Leclerc?"

"His name is Jules Pierre Hervé Leclerc. I gave him the names of important people to you. I didn't know if you were gonna meet him someday so I wanted do keep a part of you in him. It was a shock when I figured out but it was a result of our love. You are the love of my life. Even after all this years I still feel that love for you. I couldn't think of another name that would suit him as good as that one."

After that Charles hung up the phone. I knew he had a lot on his mind so I didn't insist on calling him. We both fucked up in this situation, I shouldn't have left, and he should have known that his profissional self stays in the headquarter.

When he's ready to talk he'll call me. The next morning I woke up and made breakfast for me and Jules. I was on my way to wake up Jules when my phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"Y/n, what's your address?"

"Hi Charles, good morning for you too" what's with the going straight to the point and not even asking how the person's doing? First Martin, now Charles, who's next? Jules?

"Sorry, got too exited. I bought gifts for Jules. Where can I meet you?"

"You can come to my house I'll send you the address. Did you have breakfast?"

"No, not yet"

"Good you'll have it with us and we'll tell Jules" I said hanging up the phone and continuing with Jules' routine.

-

A few minutes later Charles was knocking on my door. Jules was in the living room playing with his toy cars.

"Good morning mon amour." Charles said kissing my cheek and giving me a hug.

"Good morning Cha, you can come in" I said giving him space to come inside.

"Bonjour mon petit. What're you doing?" Charles asked Jules while sitting on the couch.

"Chaaa" Jules screamed getting up and hugging Charles.

"I'm gonna set the table. I'll call you when everything's ready" I said going to the kitchen.

They stayed in the living room until I called for the two of them.

We starting eating our breakfast.

"Jules we have something to tell you." I said when I finished my breakfast

Jules moved all his attention to me.

"You know, when I was younger I met your dad. And I think it's time for you to meet him as well."

Jules look at me and Charles, back and forth.

"Mommy, is Cha my dad? Is that what you were trying to tell me?" Jules said with his eyebrows frowned, due do confusion.

Me and Charles stayed silent for a little bit and I just nodded for Jules to know that was exactly what I was trying to tell him. Both of us fearing his reaction. We where still in silence when Jules got up from his chair and made is way towards Charles.

"I forgive you for not being here. I love you daddy. Now we can be a family." He said hugging Charles.

Jules was such an intelligent child. I didn't want to tell him the whole thing so we just said that Cha was busy but what mattered was his presence now.

We started doing, as Jules called them, "Fam Time" once a week. Charles would sleep the night to spend more time with Jules, we would go to races. Jules met all the drivers as he wished. We were happy once again.

-

I'M BACK GUYS! Probably not for long hihi

I hope you like this new story. Feedback is always welcome.

xx

[luveline]

hi can i request girl dad!aaron 🥺🥺 i am such a sucker for him, anything would be amazing thank you so much <3

hope this is okay!! —you have big news for your small family. 1.5k pregnant!mom!reader

When you first married his father, you weren't expecting Jack Hotchner to like you very much. Losing his mom so young, you wouldn't have blamed him for resenting you, or even hating you. You were like a stranger in his home. 

Things are different now. Jack lays in your lap with his head on your shoulder, and maybe he's a little too old for such a coddling cuddle, but who really cares? You love him and you love holding him, and if he wants some extra comfort tonight you're happy to give it. Plus, you have something you've been meaning to tell him.

“He doesn't have real headlights, did you know?” Jack asks. “They're just stickers.” 

You raise your brows at the car on screen. “No kidding.” You brush your fingers through his hair. He's blonde like his mom, though that blonde has turned brown the older he gets. 

“Race cars don't have headlights.”

“They don't need them,” you say. Jack smiles at you shyly and leans into your neck, clearly pleased. 

You're very, very glad that you ended up being someone he loved. It's a privilege to get to look after him, and to be his step mom. In the same way you're lucky to be Aaron's partner and Jane's mom, too. 

“Think dad's made dinner?” you ask. 

“No, he's probably just talking to Jane.” 

Yes, well. You can't blame him, nor would you want him to stop. He talks to Jane like she understands, and Jane, not even two years old, nearly brand new to the world, soaks him in. You can hear him if you strain, the dulcet cadence of his voice under the steady hum of the dishwasher. 

“That's okay, sweetheart, don't get upset,” he's saying, “it's okay. Come here, I've got you.” 

Jane starts to cry. You and Jack give one another the look, apprehensive in hoping it won't turn into a full blown melt down. 

“Honey?” Aaron calls. “Sorry, where did you put her other pacifier?” 

You kiss Jack's hair. “Sorry, bub. Wanna come with me?” 

Jack wants to stay and watch Cars. You wrap him in a throw blanket and make your way into the Hotchner kitchen, where Aaron rifles through the drawers and cabinets with Jane held snugly to his chest. “I know,” he says, “I know. I'll get it.” 

You nudge him aside. You only know where the spare pacifier is because you put away the wooden spoons last night and pushed it back. You fish for it, a ladybug made of glittery red plastic, and Jane's crying slows as soon as you pull it free. She grizzles while you rinse it, but she settles when you hand it over. 

“This is not the best, is it? The pacifiers?” you murmur. 

“She dropped her other one and it rolled under the oven. And no. Not ideal.” He pats her back gently. “As long as she stops before she gets her big teeth, she'll be okay.” 

“Do you think it's a comfort issue?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. You worry about stuff like this constantly, but he knows kids are more hardy, and he isn't worried. “Sorry for making you get up.” 

He hates when she cries; he may see his kids as a hardy bunch, but he takes their upset as a personal failure half the time. His concern for her overrides his concern for you, but in a few weeks that might change. You can't imagine him calling you to find something again when your stomach is round as a honeydew. 

You've been meaning to tell him about that, too. 

You're not secret-keeping immorally, he does want another baby, but you've been having a little bit of fun. He's gone on cases so often lately that he hasn't been able to keep track of you, or your doctor's appointments.

You watch him with Jane, and you think about him with Jack, and you know he's going to be happy. He's told you as much before. 

“My poor girl,” he says, covering the back of Jane's head with his hand and pulling her under his chin. He looks as fine as ever, tall, dark and handsome to a fault. Jane's lips smack as she sucks and digs her teary cheek into his chest. 

You can feel his gaze on you. “Is now a good time?” he asks. 

You shrug. “For what?” 

“To tell me what you're not telling me.” 

“Oh, busted,” you croon, aiming for his shoulder. 

You do as Jane had and press your cheek to his front, your eye forced shut. 

“What do you think it is?” you ask. 

He makes a strange noise. You can practically hear the possibilities for your secret running through his head. His birthday is vaguely soon, so that's what he'll settle on first. But Aaron likes to disregard the obvious as most people do, only circling back to it when there's no other lead to follow. 

“How big of a secret is it?” he asks, rubbing Jane's back diligently. She makes a happy sound, and for a moment he forgets his plight to kiss the top of her head. 

You speak quietly, carefully, because it is big, huge news. “The pamphlets say it’s about the size of a strawberry.” 

He puts his cheek to Jane's head softly, looking at you in confusion. A second, another, and his eyebrows start to relax, rise, a smile on his lips like it's too good to be true. “You are?” he asks in surprise.

Jack appears in the doorway with the throw blanket trailing behind him. “Y/N, when are you coming back to watch TV?” 

“Jack, lovely, come here. I have something to tell you,” you say. 

Aaron grabs your wrist. When you meet his eyes, he squeezes gently. “You're sure?” he asks. 

“The doctor seemed pretty certain, handsome.” You lower your voice as Jack comes to stand in front of you. “Are you happy?” 

“Happy about what?” 

You put your hand on your stomach cautiously, worried about Aaron and how quiet he's being, and if it's as okay to tell Jack as you'd thought, but that action is what gets him. “I love you,” he says quizzically, as though his being happy is totally dependent on the fact. “Of course I'm happy. This is the best secret you could've kept.” 

“About what?” Jack asks, patting your arm. 

You bend down just a bit to see his face properly. “It's a secret you can't tell anyone for a while, okay? The only people who can know for now are me, you, and dad.” 

“Can I tell Jane?” he asks. 

“Yeah, buddy, you can tell your sister,” Aaron says. 

You peer at him from the corner of your eye, both concerned and pleased to see the wetness ringing his waterline, and the tenderness with which he holds Jane close, his thumb rubbing little circles into her back. 

“I'm going to have another baby,” you say. 

Jack's jaw drops. “Right now?” 

“No, not right now! You still remember last time?” you ask with a laugh, taking his shoulders into your hands. 

“You were crying and shouting for dad to hold your hand.” He pokes your stomach. “So it's like Jane?” 

“Maybe one day, sweetheart. For now, it's just a tiny baby.” 

Jack wants to see your stomach. He's expecting a much bigger bump than you have to offer, but you explain that eventually it'll get bigger again, and he seems quite pleased. Aaron makes sure to give him a hug and ask him if he's okay, to which Jack says, “Yes, but can we have a brother this time?” 

You rub the soft top of your stomach. “I'll see what I can do, Jack.” 

Aaron commandeers your attention, kissing you more times than you can count. You don't think you've ever seen him this happy now the reality has truly set in, asking Jane in his murmur, “Do you want to be a big sister?” 

She gurgles around the pacifier, leaving drool in a line down his chest. 

“I know, honey. I'm excited too. Let's clean you up, mm? And make mommy a cup of hot cocoa…” He narrows his eyes at you. “Would you sit down?” 

“I'm only ten weeks, I'm fine.”

“She's keeping secrets from me, and now she won't do what I'm asking,” he says to Jane. “Can you believe it? Anyone would think mommy doesn't like me as much as she claims.” 

You kiss his cheek. “M'having your baby, Aaron, again.” 

“That is a compelling argument.” He wipes Jane's cheek. “What do you think? Should we forgive her?” Jane laughs. He smiles at you, lovesick. You're not sure who for. “I guess we're letting you get away with this one, sweetheart. But no more secrets.”

“None,” you promise. 

[moon7jay]

WANT (l.hs)

Warnings : angst, cum eating, smut, basically filth.

"I think he doesn't find me sexually attractive"

There.

U said it.

Your worst fear. Out loud.

your best friend looked at u like u had grown two heads

"Tf does that even mean? Isn't he dating u? "

She said it like even the thought of what u said was incredulous, but how would she know the things you were seeing and observing with your very own eyes.

Your lower lip trembled just thinking about all the times he had pushed u away. As if u were a turn off. Maybe u were.

"I mean yeah, but it's been 6 months and he hasn't.. " your voice trailed off as u felt the onslaught of tears approaching. Damn it. Damn that man for making u feel like this about yourself.

"Y/n no. He hasn't touched u?? like at all?? "

He did touch u, he held your hand when u were outside, intertwined your fingers when at home, kissed your forehead, pecked your cheek and lips. And he would pull away just as fast whenever u tried to kiss him deeper, or press urself closer. It was like u made him uncomfortable. Maybe u did.

You shook your head and broke down in tears, it was too much for ur fragile heart.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your body clad tightly in a wine red mini dress, the chest cut lower to display your ample cleavage. You looked sexy. Or so u thought.

The entire night went just like it always did. heeseung called u beautiful, he kissed u and held u close, told u everything about his day and asked u about yours. You were laughing with him but u weren't quiet there. Cuz u would catch several men ogling at u throughout the night but never heeseung . It was like. U weren't visible to him.

By the time he dropped u off at your apartment, ur mood was all the way down. Getting inside and taking ur dress off haphazardly, maybe u heard some fabric ripping but who cared. Silent tears falling down ur face as u sat in front of your vanity and looked at yourself blankly. Were u that unattractive? Did u lack sex appeal? Is that it? Because u couldn't turn ur boyfriend on no matter how hard u tried.

He barely ever seemed affected by u or ur display of your body. Ur insecurities ate away at u the entire night and u cried ur way to sleep.

"U haven't been answering my calls"

His voice echoed in the kitchen, u tried ur best to not turn around and run into his arms. After all he was still your heeseung , u loved him. And now more than ever u needed him. But he just seemed so far away.

The stirring of spoon in the coffee u were making got faster, ur anxiety getting the best of u. U hadn't been purposefully avoiding him. It's just that u didn't trust yourself to not break down like a loser in front of him anymore.

"I'm talking to u y/n"

"I'm sorry" u whispered, ur voice barely audible, the stirring of coffee got even faster, warm droplets spilling out of the cup now.

"Baby what r u sorry for? " His voice was still far away so u assumed he was still standing at the entrance of the kitchen. This gave u a little bit of strength as u cleared ur throat and dumped ur mess of a coffee into the sink

"For forcing u to be in this relationship" U replied, opening the upper cabinet to take out the coffee beans with ur shaking hands.

Pulling out another cup to start stirring again. It was the only thing keeping u calm right now.

"Y/n look at me" His voice was commanding and ur stirring stopped.

"Please"

U took a deep breath and turned around. It was about time u faced ur demons, how long were u going to run away from ur self anyway?

He was a few feet away from u, probably hesitating to come closer because of your behavior. But he never came closer anyway.

His face looked helpless and worried, like he couldn't quite understand what was going on

"What are u even talking about? " He asked carefully

U shrugged

"U started dating me out of pity hee, u did not like me from the get go and u still don't, I get that, and I'm ready to let u go"

His mouth gaped open, floundering for words

"What the fuck y/n?? Where the fuck is all this coming from? Yes I didn't like u from the get go, but that's because I didn't fucking know u! U confessed to me and I AGREED to go out with u. That's all there is to it." He sounded angry, mad even. But u couldn't bring ur self to believe his words.

"U didn't have the heart to reject me"

"I didn't WANT to reject u"

U sniffled. No this wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to tell u that yes u were right and he didn't want to be with u. So why was he being like this.

U bit ur lower lip to stop it from trembling, looking down at ur feet, unable to look at his love filled eyes anymore

"Y/n please talk to me baby"

His pleading voice made ur heart squeeze, u were hurting him.

"So why don't u want me? " U whispered quietly, too scared of his answer

"What? " His eyes met yours in confusion and worry. He seemed distressed, not knowing what changed so much in a week's span.

"Am I not sexually appealing? like, do u not find me attractive that way?... or any way.. "

tears started to fall once u said it out loud. Oh god u wanted to disappear, away from the way his eyes searched ur face.

He was going to be disgusted with u and then leave. Oh u were a fool, u hated ur self.

What u weren't expecting was for him to walk towards u, u watched him walk closer and closer until u could feel his breath on ur face.

Your watering eyes met his

"Is that what all this is about?" he asked, his voice an octave lower, dark eyes gazing at u in a way u had never seen before.

U looked down embarrassed, more tears falling freely now

"of course it is, it's been 6 months, u don't touch me, u don't kiss me, u don't even seem to care all that much when - u were cut off with a bruising kiss, his large hands cupping your face as his lips moved furiously against yours. Your eyes widened and u unknowingly moved ur hands on his chest, fisting his shirt. The way he was kissing u could only be described one way.

Hungry.

He was hungry.

He bit your lower lip and u screamed into his mouth, eyes closing in pain, focusing on the way he slithered his tongue into your mouth taking advantage of your scream, the feel of his tongue on yours made ur knees weak.

as if sensing ur light headedness he moved one hand to grab onto your waist. U gasped, the bare skin of your waist burning from his touch. U couldn't comprehend what was happening and if the person kissing u was your heeseung .

The kiss was messy, your lips connected with a string of saliva when he pulled away

U were panting, his hot and heavy breaths fell on your face. His eyes stared down at u with desire, the intensity so strong ur fists on his chest tightened.

You watched in awe as he loosened your hold on his shirt's fabric and took ur hand in his own, moving it downwards. Ur breath left ur lungs when u felt his hardness, he squeezed his length with your palm, a groan escaping his parted lips. U watched him frozen with wide eyes.

"This is u, all u" he panted on your face as he continued to rub himself over his pants using your soft hand. Your pussy tingled in arousal at seeing your boyfriend like this for the first time. Even from feeling him above his pants u could tell he was big.

"And everytime u kiss me, everytime u touch me, this is exactly how I go back home. Hard and throbbing, do u feel me baby? "

U nodded dumbly, not quiet deciphering his words. U turned him on?

"Yeah. Feel me more, press harder, I'm tired of jerking off with my own hand imagining it is yours"

His words make u gasp, your hold instinctively tightening on his dick. He curses kissing u on ur bleeding lip again, suckling the plump flesh into his mouth.

"U.. U j-jerked off to me? " U asked in a whisper, not wanting to jinx it. So in disbelief u didn't notice how fast u were rubbing his boner now. He moaned into ur mouth, taking ur hand and pulling it away from his dick only to unzip himself and slip it inside of his jeans.

You moaned when ur hand met his hard and throbbing cock, holding it and running your fingers on it softly. So big and thick. How was he gonna fit in u.

"Every night, jerked off to u so so hard. Came for u so much baby" He groaned into ur mouth at your soft hand finally holding him.

His words had u pressing ur thighs together and squirming against his body where he had u trapped against the kitchen counter. You started jerking him off in the earnest

"Yeah just like that, where'd u learn how to do it so good baby" He asked, his head thrown back, your hand gathering the precum at his cockhead and spreading it all over his cock, watching how ur hand looked working him inside his jeans. His hold on your waist tightened, moving up to grope ur chest making a pornographic moan rip through ur chest

"Practiced with my dildo"

u barely heard him curse before hot white liquid was flowing over your hand, a dark spot forming on his jeans. He groaned and captured ur lips in his own again. U couldn't believe u had made him cum. U had just made ur boyfriend cum by barely doing anything.

You pulled out ur hand from his jeans and watched in awe how his white seed looked on your hand. As if in trance u found ur self tasting it, your tongue licking your fingers and slurping all of his thick cum from ur hand.

When u met his eyes he was looking at u like a hungry animal, his jaw ticking as he traced ur movements with his eyes.

He pressed u closer to the kitchen counter so that there was no space left in between your bodies. His hands groping your ass harshly making u whine, ur hands coming up to wrap around his neck.

"U fuck urself? Ride ur dildo? " He asked, his voice dark and heavy with lust.

U nodded, squirming against him from his perverted touch, he was squeezing ur body like those men did on buses. Like it was an object of pleasure.

"Yeah? What do u think of? "

"You" u moaned as he twisted ur nipple painfully through ur crop top.

He groaned, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against u.

"Tried so hard to hold myself back, I knew u were a virgin so wanted to take it slow with u, wanted to show u i want u for more than just ur body. But all this time- he squeezed the flesh at your waist making u moan his name-all this time u have been dreaming of getting used"

He picked up your leg, wrapping it around his waist, his dick settling between ur legs, grinding against ur pussy through ur soft cotten shorts.

"Oh I'm gonna use u alright, gonna use ur fucking pussy to get myself off, that'll make u happy won't it? " He asked rutting against ur cunt, rubbing your genitals against each other,both of you panting together.

U nodded. This was all u ever dreamed of.

He moaned and kept rutting against u, u rutted back, pushing ur hips against his, gasps and pants filling the kitchen space. He dug his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck

"Can't believe I could have been beating this fucking pussy red all this time"

His words made u drip. U had never been so fucking turned on.

"heeseung put it in please, please I'm ready, please please" Tears sprang to ur eyes as his grinding motion gave u ecstasy, u were so close to cumming just like this. "Waited so long please" U begged, his furrowed brows and sharp eyes watched ur face, still grinding against u, but u both wanted more friction. He started pulling away and hurriedly pulled his pants down,starting to unbutton his shirt. U didn't waste more time and took off ur shorts and panties along with ur top, throwing them across the kitchen. You were feeling too impatient, rubbing your naked body against his, the fire burning inside u at its peak.

He pressed u against the counter again. Pressing his body to yours, but not penetrating u, just rubbing his hard dick against ur naked wet snatch, watching how they created a mess together. Your movements matched his, grinding back, rubbing and rubbing, the wet and messy sight between your rubbing genitals was so lewd u could feel ur self getting close.

"wanna make ur first time special, won't impale u on my dick right now, but let's fuck like this yeah? Wanna have sex just like this right now" He panted and groaned. U nodded, digging your nails into his back, rubbing ur pebbled nips against his bare chest.

The pleasure was too good, u had never felt something like this before.

His cockhead was hitting ur clit just right, the squelching sounds increasing as u both moaned and groaned in pleasure. He loved it. Loved how u both were rubbing ur sweaty bodies against each other like animals in heat.

His tongue entangled again with yours, fingers digging in your hips as he picked u up and made u sit on the counter, positioning u in a way that had u leaning back on your elbows, his desperate hands pulling ur hips off the counter and holding them like a sex toy. Grinding and rubbing his cock against ur velvet folds.

"Fuck yeah, baby we gotta fuck like this again"

He groaned and his thrusts started becoming rough. U chanted his name like a mantra. He was basically fucking u without actually being inside but u couldn't fathom anything feeling more good than this. Your elbows got tired and u let yourself lie back and just get used

"Gonna fuck ur pussy whenever I want"

"Bet it's tight as fuck baby, gonna have so much fun tearing u up"

"Oh yeah fuck back on me"

"Grind baby come on, what a whore"

His filthy words pushed u over the edge, coming over his cock.

He kept rubbing his cock into your cumming pussy, cursing and gritting his teeth as the heat in his loin became unbearable. Cumming all over your stomach and pussy, grunting in pleasure "fuck fuck fuck"

He rubbed his fingers on your folds, watching how raw and abused your cunt looked.

U didn't know what u had opened the door to. heeseung wanted to keep u away from his sexual urges as long as he could. He was rough, he was demanding. But most of all he was sex crazed. He didn't want u to see that side of him so soon into the relationship. And it was hard for him, feeling ur soft body pressing against his arm everyday but he always clenched his jaw and pushed u away. Rubbing his dick raw again and again just remembering how heavenly u felt.

But now that u had summoned his demons out, he was gonna play. He was gonna fuck u again and again until u r trying to run away from him. Until the pleasure turns into pain. He was going to show u exactly why he kept u away from him for so long.

His want was not casual, it was obsessive, it was destructive. And u were going to find out the hard way (No pun intended)

[leah-lover]

Little helper

lucy bronze x reader ( smut 18+)

Summary: you help Lucy with her frustrating about leaving Barcelona.

Content: spanking, daddy kink, strap-on sex, aftercare.

Ever since you and Lucy came to London she has been different. Her step is heavier, her sleep is messier and she is much more quiet than usual. You knew that leaving a club that she loved so much would haunt her. She loved Barcelona with all her heart. She adored the weather, the city, the team, and all the relationships she formed there. For you it hasn't been any different. Sure you missed Barcelona but not as much as Lucy did. After all, as long as she was with you you were happy.  You tried to talk to her about and to get her to share her thoughts with you but to no resolution. 

With the days progressing she only got sadder. She hasnt ignored you or your needs but she felt a little different, a little colder. Your heart ached for her and your brain hated her stubbornness and needed to always seem like she was okay. 

Today was no different than the past week.  Usually, she would get from training, go sit on the couch and wait for you to join  her with dinner in hand. She would cuddle with you, kiss you and sometimes have sex with you. But today you were determined to change her mood. As soon as she sat on the couch you took off your apron and your oversized t-shirt to show a set of black laced lingerie. You put your hair in a ponytail and headed staring to the living room. Once you got there you stood in front of her and knelt between her wide spread legs. She looked at you amazed and surprised. Her eyes scanned every inch of your body hungrily from your eyes to your chest to your core. She then leaned forward and gave you a sweet kiss. 

“ What did I do to deserve this?” she whispered a meare inch from your face. “ you have been sad lately and i thought since you didn't want to talk about it,  you can take it out on me?” you answered while looking at the floor, your submissive instincts kicking in.  “ Is my little girl worried about her daddy?” she teased. “ Yes, very much. I want to please you and make you feel better.” you whisper while still looking at the floor beneath you. 

Lucy then lifts your head up by your chin and takes your lips for a lustful kiss. “ I don't know if I can do this little one. Daddy is very angry today.” she admitted once you two separate. 

“ But daddy I can take it. I can take everything. I want to make you feel better.” 

“ I don't trust myself today. What if I hurt you?” you never heard lucy say that before a little part of you got scared once you heard her say this but you need so badly to make her feel better. 

“ You wont hurt me daddy. I trust you.” you reassure her. She stayed quiet for a minute. 

“ giving you a spanking would make daddy feel better.” she said. You immediately get up from your position and go to her lap. She gives you a pillow to put your head on. “ if you need me to stop, safe word.” she demanded. You nod in response. “ use your words little one.” 

“ Yes daddy.” you respond while you situate your head on the pillow. Her hands roamed every inch on available skin on your ass before the first hit. It was painful but it made your core flutter. 

Then came the second hit, the third and the forth. Your ass was pink, your skin was on fire, and your new underwear was damp. The room  echoed grunts from Lucy after each spank, hisses of pain from you, and occasional whispers of “ thank you daddy.” By the 10th spank,  your core became needy and the hisses of pain became moans. “ is daddy's little slut turned on? Did you want to be spanked so badly?” she said in a condescending tone. She didn't leave you time to answer, she gave a much stronger spank to which you responded with a pornographic moan. 

Lucy’s focus was on your ass. Every  spank was powerful, she didn't stop until she reached 40 spanks. By then your ass was red, your eyes were filled with tears, and your moans turned into cries of pain. At the 40th  spank she froze and closed her eyes. The echo carried your muffled cries. A few minutes later, she helped you straddle her lap. Your ass was in the air because sitting on it would be painful. 

“ You did soo good for daddy little one.” she said while wiping your tears away. “ Daddy feels so much better. I am not angry anymore.” she confesses. She then takes your lips for a much softer and more intimate kiss. You stay silent. The skin on your ass was burning and your core was needy and sensitive. “ Daddy thinks her good little girl deserves a reward. What do you want us to do?” you didn't usually choose what to do so you froze for a second. While you were thinking, Lucy's hand roamed your back and took off your bra. 

“ I want you to make love to me.” you whispered. She kissed your lips again, then moved on to your neck where she left shallow kisses. 

Lucy was aware of what your choice of words meant. You didnt ask for her to “fuck you” or for her to give you her “ cock” you wanted her to make love to you. She carried you to the bedroom and put you on  the bed slowly so as to not irritate your already sensitive skin. You watched as she went to the closet and came out wearing nothing but your favorite strap. She immediately went to work worshiping your body and giving every inch of your skin a passionate kiss. The silence in the room quickly turned into a symphony of moans coming from both you and her. When she arrived at your core. She found your pussy dripping with arousal. She came back up  to you and gave you another kiss. “ If I had known a spanking would get you this wet, I would have done it a long time ago.” you couldn't think about anything but her cock at this point. “ I need you,” you whispered. She immediately started to duck you after that. Her thrust was slow but fulfilling. She didn't leave you as her lips found a spot to bruise your neck. 

“ I am so full. I want to come.” you whisper in between moans. You felt lucy smile against your lips.  “ whenever you are ready.” Lucy loved to edge you but since this was a reward she wanted to make it easy on you. She kept her thrusts deep and slow which quickly made you cum. Your legs started to shake quickly and your head was deep in your pillow. A few minutes later Lucy came too in the same intensity as you. 

She stayed inside you for a few minutes until you both came down. “ stay still, I am gonna go get us a glass of water.” she said as she kissed your head. She then came back witha cloth, a bottle of lotion and 2 bottles of water. You were quiet, your brain still fuzzy from what just happened. She cleaned you up and handed you the water. “ turn around for daddy to apply the lotion on you.” she demanded. “ Daddy, I need to cuddle with you.” you answer shyly. 

“ We will , princess but I need to apply this first.” Getting you to do anything after you just had sex that didn't involve cuddling was a challenge for lucy. “ The quicker you turn around the faster we can cuddle. You comply angrily and let her apply the lotion on you. She does so in a sweet manner leaving a kiss when she was done. She found her place next to you and you cuddled to her side. You practically layed on top of her so that your ass can heal at night. 

“ Thank you for tonight my love.” 

“ You can always talk to me, you know.” 

“ not today, maybe tomorrow.” you saw her eyes closed as she drifted asleep. 

[jinuaei]

I can offer you an idea of ​​yandere alastor.. What would it be like if alastor as a child knew the reader... Like I imagine alastor as a child not knowing how to act properly like a human, and the reader as a good best friend helping him seems more human (and not because the child reader is scared of him) ... Actually, what would happen?

Wrote this instead of working on my finals hope you enjoyed it!

Yandere! Alastor x Childhood friend! Reader

Warning: Animal death, blood, its YANDERE

WC: ~1.5k

Charlie dragged the whole hotel for another ‘trust’ session, this time, she had the great idea for the sinners to share stories from when they were alive. Granted, some of them were eager to share, namely Nifty and Angel Dust, Husk would share some here or there, although it's mostly due to Charlie and Angel pushing him to. Alastor on the other hand kept quiet during the whole ordeal, until the topic of childhood friends came up.

“I had a childhood friend once, such a sweetheart. Wouldn't leave me alone to play with others!,” Alastor let the statement linger in the air, casually sipping on his coffee. 

The other members of the Hotel look aat him with mouths agape, shocked and surprised at the fact that THE Alastor, Radio Demon, Dealmaker, HAD FRIENDS? Moreover, a childhood friend?? Someone stayed friends with him since they were children???

“Don't look at me like I am incapable of having proper friendships, and no, you cannot ask them about me as a child because they're simply not a sinner! Oh imagine my disappointment when I didn't find them down here,” his eyes glazed over in slight rage as he thought about how you weren't here.

Very disappointing that I will never be able to hold my beloved again. What I would do to be able to chain them to my side once more…

“Well don't leave us hangin’, whose this sweetheart of you’s?,” the white spider interjected.

He tells them your name, sighing dreamily as he starts to reminisce about the times you were together when you were children.

You were the child of one of his momma's clients, a bubbly little thing, always eager to play with him regardless of how cold he is to you. 

His momma was your family's personal tailor, and by God were you a spoiled little thing. Every week you would ask for 2-3 outfits to be created for you, although it looked more like costumes than everyday wear but he doesn't complain, as long as your family treated him and his momma with respect.

Nonetheless, he refuses to be close to you, considering you as a bother, but of course, he would never admit that to you, lest he wants his momma to get in trouble. 

He hasn't always looked forward to when his momma brings him to your house, namely due to you clinging to him every time you meet. There's one thing in your mansion that he’s quite fond of though, once he manages to escape from your grasp, he sneaks into the woods behind your house, gazing at all the wildlife roaming around your property.

One time, he found an injured bird crying close to him, it tried to get away from him but he eventually caught it in a tight grip, it chirped and cried but Alastor just gripped tighter and tighter until, pop! 

Blood trailed down his hands and onto the forest floor below, unbeknownst to him, he had a huge grin on his face, too pleased with the mutilation of the poor bird. A gasp resonates behind him and he quickly drops the bird, face stilling at the fact that he got caught.

When he turned his body to you, your eyes were full of tears staring at his hands that he didn't bother to hide. He prepared himself to hunt you down to make sure you wouldn't tattle on his momma but your next words made him stop in place.

“Are you okay???” you rushed to his side, pulling out a handkerchief and started to wipe off the blood coating his stained hand.

In response, the child looked at you aghast, stupefied at the concern you were showing, marking yourself vulnerable to the predator towering over your much shorter build. He could kill you if he could, he can lie and tell your parents that a bear found both of you and killed you, that he tried to save you but was unable to. But then again… as you fret over him, a thought passes through his mind. 

You are too kind for your own good, just like momma. Don't worry I’ll protect you.

Alastor raises the now somewhat clean hand, and he notes how you didn't even flinch at it, and just looked at him with your wide, innocent eyes. The hand lowers to pat you on the head, ruffling your hair a little bit.

“I am fine, I tried to save a bird but it was too hurt to be saved,” he shows off the bird, face devoid of any emotions.

You frowned at it and suddenly went on your knees and started digging a grave with your hands.

Alastor furrowed his eyebrows and questioned what you were doing, you responded with, “I’m digging a grave for the birdie, I don't want them to die without a proper burial.”

The boy helped you after a few moments of silence. Once you were done, you clasped your hands together, covered in dirt and blood,  silently looking at him to do the same. Look at you, as a child of a rich man you shouldn't be on your knees covering yourself in filth, but perhaps he should indulge his angel for a little bit. 

As you started praying he couldn't help but let the bitterness consume his mind. God wouldn't care about frivolous things like this, prayers do nothing, if it did, how come he and his momma are still at the mercy of that monster of a man he calls his father?

“Amen.”

You offer your filthy hand to him, gazing at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Perhaps the only good thing that God has done, is sending down an angel for him to play with.

“You should smile more, you look very pretty,” he raises an eyebrow at that, startled by your bluntness. Admittedly, he can feel himself flush at your compliment.

“Do you like it when I smile?” he hums, taking your hand. Both of you started to walk back to your manor.

“I do! Mommy always said ‘you’re never fully dressed without a smile’ and that's why I always smile!”

“Then I'll smile a lot for you,” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

“You're doing it wrong! It's like this,” you show off your smile, toothy and wide.

He tries again and ultimately fails, you pout at him cutely when he failed, and he couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile at that. In response you shout out ‘like that!’, and start vibrating in excitement that you managed to make him smile.

It was almost nightfall when you eventually managed to get home safely, albeit covered in dirt and grime. What greeted you both were your father, stressed beyond belief, and his mother, on the verge of tears. They both rushed to you guys and hugged the both of you, fretting and scolding at how worried they are, they asked you and Alastor what happened and you, being the loudmouth you are, told them the story that you know.

Both adults are relieved to hear that you both are safe, they rushed you to clean yourselves up. Ever since then, Alastor has been looking forward to every visit they had to your house. And every single visit has been a learning moment for him, day by day he learns what you like and what you don't like. 

You like gentlemen? The next time you meet, he offers you his arm to hold. Do you like poetry? He memorizes your favourite poems to recite whenever you're bored. Do you like food and cooking? He begs his momma to teach him her infamous Jambalaya and other comfort foods to cook for you.

Alastor molded himself to become your ideal man, the most perfect gentleman that ever existed in your life. But then…

“Then what...? But then what??” Angel exclaimed when Alastor trailed off with a cliffhanger. Everyone leaned towards him, captivated by the story he shared. He smiles cryptically, but still doesn't respond.

“Oh well, it seems like it's almost supper time, I should work on it, wouldn't want to be late for dinner hmm?”

Everyone collectively groaned at the cliffhanger, they wanted to know what happened after, but they couldn't complain much lest they want to be part of Alastor's radio broadcast.

Alastor turns away from them, humming to himself as he walks towards where the kitchen is.

But then you had to die as a saint. You had to marry that disgusting excuse of a man you called your husband, and now he killed you. My beloved, was I not enough? Was I not perfect for you? You would have been safe if you were with me… Don't worry, I made sure that ‘husband’ of yours regretted ever hurting you. May this be an offering to my angel.

A haunting scream pierces through hell, amplified by the speakers scattered around the pride ring.

Support me here so I would be more likely to write more fics 🤭

[humblewarriorgentleman]

"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?"

In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife. Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "Did... did you.... find him?"

"Yes dear," Susie said smiling sadly, "He was in the attic."

Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.

"I washed him for you," Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.

"Thank you, Susie." Calvin said.

A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.

"Dear," Calvin said finally. "Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him."

"All right," Susie said. "I'll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I'll be back soon."

Susie kissed her huband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you," he said.

"And I love you," said Susie.

Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.

Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. "Hello Hobbes. It's been a long time hasn't it old pal?"

Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. "It sure has, Calvin." said Hobbes.

"You... haven't changed a bit." Calvin smiled.

"You've changed a lot." Hobbes said sadly.

Calvin laughed, "Really? I haven't noticed at all."

There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.

"So... you married Susie Derkins." Hobbes said, finally smiling. "I knew you always like her."

"Shut up!" Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.

"Tell me everything I missed. I'd love to hear what you've been up to!" Hobbes said, excited.

And so Calvin told him everything. He told him about how he and Susie fell in love in high school and had married after graduating from college, about his three kids and four grandkids, how he turned Spaceman Spiff into one of the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade, and so on. After he told Hobbes all this there was another pregnant pause.

"You know... I visited you in the attic a bunch of times." Calvin said.

"I know."

"But I couldn't see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal." Calvin voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes.

"You grew up old buddy." said Hobbes.

Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn't grow up and that we'd be together forever!!"

Hobbes stroke the Calvin's hair, or what little was left of it. "But you didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"We were always together... in our dreams."

"We were?"

"We were."

"Hobbes?"

"Yeah, old buddy?"

"I'm so glad I got to see you like this... one last time..."

"Me too, Calvin. Me too."

"Sweetheart?" Susie voice came from outside the door.

"Yes dear?" Calvin replied.

"Can I come in?" Susie asked.

"Just a minute."

Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks... for everything..."

"No, thank you Calvin." Hobbes said.

Calvin turned back to the door and said, "You can come in now."

Susie came in and said, "Look who's come to visit you."

Calvin's children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin's room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!" screamed the child in delight.

"Francis!" cried Calvin's daughter, "Be gentle with your grandfather."

Calvin's daughter turned to her dad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories."

Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! That sound just like me when I was his age."

Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up."

Calvin's beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tommorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second."

Francis came over to his grandfather's side, "What is it Gramps?"

Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. "This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him."

"He's just a stuffed tiger." Francis said, eyebrows raised.

Calvin laughed, "Well, let me tell you a secret."

Francis leaned closer to Clavin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger."

Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, "Not only that he will be your best friend forever."

"Wow! Thanks grandpa!" Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.

"Francis! We need to go now!" Calvin's daughter called.

"Okay!" Francis shouted back.

"Take good care of him." Calvin said.

"I will." Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.

Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that. He eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside. "I'll take care of him, Calvin..."

Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face.

Credit to Redditor samuraitiger19

His reply to the comments there 10 years ago

EDIT: Wow... just wow... I am speechless here guys. I did not expect such a reaction to my story or prompt. I am not worthy of your praise or your gold. I am truly humbled. Thanks so much! I'm truly glad so my story touched so many people.

[cheeseceli]

We cry together

Pairing: Idol Hyunjin × non Idol Gn!Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, drabble

Request: Can I request reader who’s an en empath and when she senses that hyunjin has been sad lately she starts crying and then that makes hyunjin cry too and finally open up to her about what’s wrong😭🩷

Warnings: none I can think of

A/n: I think you requested this like last year💀 I'm sorry for taking so long but hopefully you'll like it!

Hyunjin hasn't been himself lately, and you knew that better than anyone else.

His eyes were darker than usual, like he was feeling tired all the time. He'd barely joke around anymore or do his dramatic antics. You knew he wasn't being his normal self, however you didn't know why.

"I'm fine, don't worry" was his usual response to any approach you'd have. Just like now. A whole week had passed and he still was walking around like a zombie - a zombie who'd always fake a smile to try to make you feel a little bit relieved.

You didn't know what else to do. You tried to talk just to hear lies about how he was feeling alright. You tried to comfort him just to realise that he was wearing a barrier around him. You tried to be there for him just to realise that he himself wasn't there, nor anywhere. He was so inside his mind that the real world was inexistent to him.

With this dilemma inside your mind, the whole day had already passed and it was time to bid goodbye. He didn't look at you though, and his "goodnight" was such a whisper that you doubt he meant to say that at all.

Now that's a funny thing about loving someone. You don't only have feelings for them, you have their feelings. If they are happy you're gonna share their smiles. If they are angry you're gonna share their screams. And if they are sad, even if you don't exactly know the reason, you're bound to share their tears.

So when you hug Hyunjin as a farewell, you can't help but cry. You didn't mean to, but the more you cried the more helpless you felt and just tried to find comfort in your lover by hugging him tighter, hoping that you wouldn't disturb him. However, your sobs made Hyunjin come back to earth and back to you.

"Love?" he asked with a soft voice "are you crying?"

You didn't reply at first. Oh, how embarrassing it was to cry like that for no apparent reason. But Hyunjin took your face in his hands and looked at you with the kindest eyes to ever exist. It was the first time in the whole week that he looked at you properly. You didn't realise how much you missed it.

"What happened?"

"I should be the one asking this, Hyunjin. You've been weird for God knows how long and you refuse to tell me what's wrong."

A mixture of confusion and guilt showed up in his eyes before he dried your face with his thumb "You're crying because of me?"

You smiled. Not because you found it funny, but because you couldn't believe the situation itself.

"I just... I just want you to know that you can trust me. I'm here. For whatever you may need or want. Even if I can't solve the problem, I hope that at least we can cry together."

Hyunjin hugged you closer before you could see his tears forming. It was kinda contradicting, really. But for Hyunjin, the way you were already crying together ended up solving the problem in his head, at least for enough time for him to breathe again.

"Do you think I could sleep here tonight?" His voice was a little bit muffled, his face in the crook of your neck, but his words resonated in your skin. You felt he was little to little coming back to life.

"Of course. Why's that?"

"I wanna trust you tonight. I'll tell you everything. Just let me be here with you, please."

"Always."

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Dividers by @enchanthings

[rxmqnova]

So i was thinking about, Wanda and Yn are friends, and Yn is in love with her but always putting her feelings on a side.

Wanda went to the supermarket and came back a bit upset because they couldn't find i don't know, her favourite chips or cookies, and while everyone said that next time they will have it, Yn without everyone noticed went to other places looking for it, until she found it and came back with a bag full of those. So she asked where she was and everyone was with a amused smile and telling her she was in her room. Yn went in there, and told Wanda that she has a surprise and give her the bag, she cried a bit, and you know they said their feelings to each other in a cute way hahaha.

And you can write like, two weeks later, when they are cuddling in the sofa and someone came with a box for Wanda and It was the chips or cookies, that Yn order because she didn't want to see Wanda upset for not having it and Wanda was shocked and look at her while Yn was with a grin on her face, so Wanda hugged her a gave her a kiss.

Cookies

NO ONE'S POV Carrying a bag full of groceries, Wanda lets out a sigh. It was her turn to go grocery shopping this week and as always, she was excited to buy her favorite cookies.

She wouldn't be upset if they were any other cookies, but those are exactly the ones her and her twin brother Pietro loved when they were children. Ever since the tragic accident that caused Pietro's death, she's been always buying a box of those cookies whenever she went to the store as it reminds her of him.

All of the Avengers are currently sitting at the dining table, sharing a look when they notice Wanda's odd behavior. The witch has usually smile on her face, but now there's no smile.

"Wands? Are you okay?" Y/N questions, breaking the silence that's been filling the room.

Getting no response Y/N stands up and walks over to Wanda, helping her with the groceries.

"What happened?" Y/N asks once again.

"They didn't have cookies, the ones I always buy" Wanda sighs.

"Oh god, is this what's this all about? You'll just buy them next time" Tony rolls his eyes, making Y/N feel bad for Wanda. She knows how much those simple cookies mean to her.

"They'll surely have them next time" Natasha says with a soft smile, only to receive a hum from the witch in response.

Once the groceries out of the bag and on the right places, Wanda disappears to her room while Y/N joins the rest of the team at the table again, though her mind can't stop thinking about how to make Wanda happier.

Y/N hates to see Wanda sad, she'd do anything to make her feel better. She's been in love with her for as long she can remember, but she still hasn't said Wanda anything, worried it might ruin their friendship.

It doesn't take long until Y/N sneaks out of the kitchen and walks into the garage. She gets into her car and drives to a store, a different one Wanda went to, with hope to find Wanda's cookies.

———

A smile is playing on Y/N's lips as she's walking to the living room where are the others' voices heard, carrying a bag full of wanted cookies. She took every single box that was in the store.

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion when she scans the room and doesn't see Wanda anywhere.

"Guys? Have you seen Wanda?" Y/N questions, all eyes suddenly on her.

"I think she's still in her room. But what's that?" Natasha asks with a smirk, knowing well about the crush Y/N has on the witch.

I mean… all of the Avengers know the two like each other, it's just so obvious. They find it amusing to see how Y/N's cheeks always heat up when Wanda tells her something nice. Or how Wanda's trying to find any opportunity to just give Y/N a hug or tuck a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear.

"Nothing, just some cookies for Wanda" Y/N explains, quickly turning around and disappearing to avoid a potential teasing.

The others let out quiet laughs, watching with amused smiles as Y/N rushes out.

"Wands?" Y/N calls, knocking at the door of Wanda's room which opens a few seconds later. "Hi, I-I have something for you. Can I come in?" She smiles, receiving a nod from the witch as she stands aside and lets Y/N in.

Wanda sits on her bed, curiously watching her friend and wondering what's in the bag Y/N's holding.

"I. Hm. I just don't like seeing you sad, so… I-I got you this" Y/N hands Wanda the bag, her cheeks turning red as she's watching Wanda peek inside.

"Y/N, I… you went to the store to buy me cookies?" Wanda questions, now looking at Y/N who nods, her cheeks red while she's avoiding any possible eye-contact with the witch.

"I know how much they mean to you, so I thought that if I buy you some it would make you feel better" Y/N mumbles out, playing with her fingers and still avoiding eye-contact.

"Y/N/N" Wanda whispers, her eyes filled with tears from the nice gesture. She stands up, pulling Y/N in for a tight hug. "Thank you" She smiles warmly, wiping her tears away.

"That was nothing" Y/N blushes hard, turning her face away which doesn't go unnoticed by Wanda as she lets out a chuckle.

"It wasn't nothing, Y/N. No one has ever done anything like this for me. So I'm asking why?" Wanda asks, a smile playing on her lips as she's looking Y/N in the eyes.

"… Because I like you" Y/N mumbles out, her gaze fixed on the ground in case Wanda wouldn't feel the same.

Wanda's smile widens, she lifts Y/N's head up with her fingers to look her in the eyes before speaking again.

"I like you too, Y/N/N, so much" Wanda confesses. "I should have told you earlier, but I wasn't sure if you feel the same"

"Really? I… so if I asked you out on a date… would you say yes?" Y/N asks, a little surprised by the fact Wanda really likes her back.

"Well, ask me and you'll see" Wanda teases, receiving a playful roll of eyes from Y/N.

"Will you go on a date with me?" Y/N questions with a smile, receiving a smile back.

"Yes, of course. I will be happy to"

———————————

Two weeks later…

The cookies Y/N bought for Wanda two weeks ago are now all gone. Wanda gave a few boxes to the other Avengers and the rest she ate with Y/N.

And Y/N being the good girlfriend she is, she noticed, so she has a little surprise for Wanda.

The pair is currently cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie together when they get interrupted by the doorbell.

"I'll get it" Wanda sighs, sitting up and leaving the living room. Y/N's quick to follow with a smile on her face, knowing who only just rang the doorbell.

When she arrives to the the front door, Wanda's already holding a box of her favorite cookies and thanking the guy that brough it.

Wanda's absolutely confused and shocked, but it's all clear to her when she turns around and finds her girlfriend watching her with a huge smile on her face which brings a grin to Wanda's face.

"Thank you" Wanda says, wrapping arms around Y/N and pulling her in for a tight hug.

"No problem, I'll make sure you never run out. You have a personal stocker now" Y/N teases, making Wanda let out a laugh.

"You're such an idiot sometimes… my idiot" Wanda smiles, connecting her lips with Y/N's for a loving kiss.

It took them long enough to finally confess their feelings for each other, but it was definitely worth the wait.

-------------------------

I'm single as a pringle, but HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYONE!! <33

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

[pirrusstuff]

Sooo my little brother (he's 6) and I watch 911 together, I make shure to skip the parts he shouldn't be seeing and sometimes I have to explain some stuff to him, etc. so here are some of his opinions

Bobby is his favorite character, his number 1 like he says

He LOVES Chimney

Buck is his second favorite because he wants to be as tall as him

Shannon defender

Abby hater

Thought Buvk and Eddie were a couple for a long time

He covered his eyes with his hands during THE kitchen scene because he thought they were going to kiss

Taylor Kelly defender

Thinks that Buck's loft is the coolest house

He wishes he could be friends with Christopher

He cried when Buck was struck by the lightning ( he though he was gone gone)

Doesn't like Athena too much ( he's afraid of cops a little bit)

He likes Maddie because she reminds him of our mom

He wants to see more of Karen's work

He hasn't seen the last season because it's not available in Spanish yet soooo he's probably going to have some new opinions as soon as he sees it.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Tattoos

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You have pens

"Sorry," Mumma says as she bounces you on her hip," She's in a grumpy mood today."

You grunt, angling your head away as Tia Patri tries to rub at your cheek.

"Very grumpy," Tia Patri notes before smiling at you anyway and waving you goodbye.

"Okay," Mumma says, readjusting her grip on you so you can tuck your head into the crook of her neck," There we go. I think someone needs a little nap."

"No," You whine," No nap...jus'...jus' you. Jus' Mumma."

"Okay," Mumma agrees," Just Mumma."

You've been out of whack ever since the flight over for the semifinal Champion's League match. Mapi's still returning from her knee injury so she's been dropped to the bench and continues her rehab even though she's on the squad list so Ingrid's kind of been solo parenting for a bit.

It's not that Mapi won't help but she very much can't do things like play rough with you like you enjoy or bounce you on her knee to calm you down.

Ingrid hasn't done that a lot since she started dating Mapi, who dived head-first into things like that in an attempt to win you over.

"Mamí too," You insist as you whine out a low note.

"Are you having big feelings?" Ingrid asks as she fishes out her phone to ask where Mapi is.

You nod tiredly against her, practically limp but still with enough energy to kick and snap your displeasure.

Ingrid wonders if it's a lack of stimulation. The plane ride had been long and you didn't have any of your usual things to keep you occupied.

Your story books had all been packed in the big suitcase (the last time Ingrid will ever trust Mapi to pack your bags) and your colouring book and felt tip pens had been deemed too messy for you to use on the flight. That coupled with your inability to stay asleep for more than twenty minutes, means that you're exhausted and bored.

It's a dangerous combination.

Ingrid shoots off a text to Mapi about the situation and walks the length of the hallway, quietly hushing you and allowing you to suck at her collar even though she knows that it's going to feel bad against her skin later on.

Mapi replies quickly, saying that she's in the canteen with Alexia.

"Mumma," You whine as Ingrid makes for the elevator," No go out! No want!"

"We're not going out," Ingrid assures you but the damage is already done because the exhaustion and the boredom finally catch up with you and you burst into a round of frustrated tears.

Ingrid bounces you more firmly as you babble and sob and whine all the way down. The staff sends her sympathetic looks, some of them having children themselves, and the rest of the team look equally distraught as you clearly feel when Ingrid (frazzled and stressed) bursts into the canteen.

Mapi's at the table in the corner, a packet of temporary tattoo pens by her side as she transfers a sketch from her book onto Alexia's arms.

Alexia's been talking about getting another tattoo and Mapi had drawn up designs easily.

She's animatedly talking about the one she's transferring to Alexia's arms interspersed with flicking through the book to show alternative ideas.

She stops immediately though as your cries echo through the room and Ingrid approaches.

"What happened?" She asks," What's wrong? Is she hurt? Sick? She had that tummy bug a few weeks ago. Is it back?"

"She's having some big feelings," Ingrid replies, sitting down next to Mapi," I think she just wants some company while working through them. Look, she's already calming down."

She's right.

Your gasping breaths are evening out again and the tears roll down your face mostly silently. With your Mumma and Mamí now together, you're happy to just sag against Mumma and allow Mamí's conversation with Tia Ale to wash over you.

You slowly reach out for the pink pen that's resting on the table. You pick it up. Mamí doesn't use the pink a lot, especially when she's drawing ideas on people like she's doing with your Tia.

Mumma leans with you as you angle yourself towards Mamí's arms where some of her tattoos are on show.

"Open," You tell Mumma, your voice a little scratchy from all your crying and general unease. Mumma takes the lid off for you.

You press the tip against Mamí's arm, taking a lot of care to colour in the lines of the pictures she's got there.

She stops drawing on your Tia when she first feels the press of the nib against her skin.

You give her a little teary eyed smile when she catches your eye.

"Following in your footsteps," Mumma says fondly, finally able to plait your hair into a neat braid," Little tattoo artist."

"Yeah," Mamí agrees, moving to uncap all the pens on the table," Make sure to get in as many colours as possible, alright?"

You nod.

Mamí continues to draw on Tia Ale as you continue to colour in her tattoos.

The repetitive action soothes you and you make pretty swirls in her arm pictures even after she's finished showing Tia Ale her designs.

"Finished?" She asks.

You nod. "Finished."

"Ingrid," Mamí says," Take a picture of this." She flexes her arm. "I want to brag to everyone about how much more exciting she's made my arm."

[nanamiscocksleeve]

A Sheath for a Sword

Warnings: MDNI, Crack fic, crude language, PIV sex, dirty talking, slight foursome A/N: This isn't an actual WIP, I just got a silly idea and wrote it out. Hardly took any time at all. Kind of a Victorian era goofy, crack fic. Not in y/n format, just felt right doing it in third person. Not proofread. Image credit Masson on Shutterstock

A young woman is crawling weakly through a field. The feeling of thirst claws at her body. It's been 3 months since she's had cock. 3 whole months and she's starving.

In a desperate bid to satisfy her hunger, she left her village, only to be overcome by her own weaknesses now on her knees, crying out in desperation.

"Cock...a bit of cock...anyone please...so thirsty..." Her labored movements drain her of the little energy she had, and she rests her head on the grass, panting, feeling her body succumbing to her basic needs. So this is how it ends, she thinks to herself. With a dry cunt and no prospects in sight.

She feels her thoughts becoming less cohesive, eyes becoming heavy and breathing shallow. She closes her eyes and waits for her ultimate end.

Unbeknownst to her, a merry order of knights were nearby and they had heard her pathetic cries of thirst. They march towards her aid, a trio of tall, strapping, gentlemen.

"The poor thing," murmurs Sir Geto The Long.

"Indeed," agrees Sir Gojo The Strong.

"I hope she'll recover," says Sir Nanami The Dauntless.

"Let's rouse her and see how she responds." Sir Geto rolls her onto her back and begins to pull up the various layers of skirts beneath her dress before he finally reaches the small strip of linen covering her pussy. He pulls it off and gasps in shock.

"I do say...look at it's state!"

Sir Gojo and Sir Nanami gather closer to see and they almost gasp in horror.

"I've never seen a cunt so dry!"

"Poor thing must be starving."

"She might have come from one of those old villages, the ones that took all the young men off to war!"

"She has traveled great lengths and gone without. We should put in our best efforts to revive her."

Sir Geto nods, gathering saliva onto his tongue. "I shall give it my best hawk tuah." With that, he brings as much as he can onto the dried pussy lips, spreading it onto her parched folds to offer relief.

The woman stirs, feeling something pleasantly lapping at her cunt, then shivers as her corset is undone and removed along with her chemise. Her eyes open a fraction, then she gasps as she sees two handsome men suckling on her titties, her poor, deprived titties, which would have been as dry as her cunt had it not been for the help of the salve the apothecary had made for her.

She clears her throat to get their attention. Sir Gojo releases her nipple, looking at her in apology.

"I'm sorry my lady, I hope you don't mind. You did look like you were in need of aid."

"I was. was looking for relief and must have passed out in the field." She gasps as she feels a tug on the womanly pearl between her legs. "Oh my! When I started on this journey, I was hoping to find at least one man to fill my venus cavern. I was never expecting 3! May I know your names, kind sirs?"

"Sir Gojo Satoru the strong." The white-haired knight introduces himself.

Nanami who had been licking her nipple this whole time lets go with a wet pop. "And I am Sir Nanami Kento The Dauntless."

"Dauntless?"

"He never backs down from anything. Never met a dame he hasn't satisfied, no matter how difficult she might be. Leaves the wildcats purring like house kittens by the time he's done!" Sir Gojo explains with a bark of laughter.

"And the chivalrous man between your legs restoring moisture to your cunt is Sir Geto The Long." Sir Gojo points the covered shape between her legs.

"Oh...long indeed, I can feel his tongue covering me all the way from the rosebud to the kitty cave!" she giggles and sighs as she feels her thirst ebbing away.

"That's not the only reason we call him that. You'll find out soon enough."

"Are you comfortable with us providing you with this assistance in a field my lady? We had no chance to ask since your condition was dire and you were unconscious. Would you prefer a room and a bed?" Sir Nanami asks as he tweaks her nipple with his calloused fingertips.

"Oh lord, no," she chuckles. "Outside is fine it's thrilling actually."

"Excellent! Well, we shall carry on. Please do not hesitate to cry out in pleasure when you have been thoroughly satisfied."

The woman lays back and lets them lick all her unused parts, feeling strength and vitality flowing back into her body with each flick and tickle. Sir Geto was doing an excellent job of bringing her withered petals back into health and she felt her moisture cavern growing even more wet in preparation for a meat sausage.

She cries out as her first orgasm in three months hits her, the noise echoing across the empty field, and Sir Geto emerges from underneath her clothes, grinning. She blushes as she sees his face, just as handsome as the other two that had been playing with her teats.

"I think I brought it back to life," sir Geto says confidently. "Would you like me to fill your glistening glove of love? Or would you prefer someone else?"

She considers, then admits. "I want Sir Gojo The Strong to break my abstinence."

"Yes my lady," Sir Gojo says with a grin. "Let me fuck thy fair maiden. And bring unto her a climax." With that he flips her back onto her hands and knees and begins to undo his armor. She makes small talk with the other 2 knights since removing armor single-handedly is no easy task. Sir Nanami and Sir Geto take turns lapping at her cave of wonders and pulling her breast pebbles to keep her moistened.

"In short, I thought I was going to die without ever experiencing cock again!" she was saying by the time Sir Gojo finished undressing.

"Quite fascinating my lady," he says, grabbing her hips and positioning them, before pushing his impressive flesh sword into her meat sandwich. She moans like a cat in heat, the exquisite feeling of cock filling her being. It was like being reborn, his erection bringing life back to her starved pussy like rain onto a drought-wrecked farm.

She groans and moans and giggles and sighs, enjoying the fucking of her pussy. "I would so enjoy a cock in my mouth as well sirs," she says looking at Sir Geto and Sir Nanami who begin to remove their own armor. Her eyes widen as she sees their forms.

"Now I understand why you're Sir Geto The Long," she says, measuring his dick with her fingers. "And Sir Nanami! Dauntless indeed! I would be too with that kind of sausage!" she looks at the veiny, glorious, monster cock on Sir Nanami's body.

"Well, feed me gentlemen."

Sir Nanami lets her taste him first, and she sucks him with enthusiasm, feeling her body grow stronger. Sir Geto plays with her nipples as he waits for one of her holes to get free. It takes quite an effort but she manages to get Sir Nanami to a climax, the salty cream from his cock sliding down her throat, an elixir to all her problems. At the same time, Sir Gojo also blesses her wet cunt with his cum, adding much-needed substances to her previously decrepit pussy.

Without wasting time, Sir Geto plunges into her as soon as Sir Gojo is finished. Cross-eyed and happier than she'd been in 3 months, the woman pants, tongue hanging out of her mouth in ecstasy.

"People talked about dry spells before. I thought they were lying. I thought it couldn't possibly be this bad," she explains between each gasp of air.

"Oh no, dry spells are not to be taken lightly. In fact, during the last one, they designated fuck bucks - young men with good vigor, to serve the women during the last war. But the crown's budget has become restricted with this war so they were unable to procure any fuckable men." Sir Nanami explains as he and Sir Gojo help each other with their armor, waiting for Sir Geto to finish.

Sir Geto growls like an animal, then plays with her clit, bringing her to her third orgasm and gives her another generous helping of seed to restore her parched lands.

She sighs in satisfaction. "Thank you Sirs. I really may have died here today."

"Tis no trouble at all my lady." They help her dress. "Would you like to come with us?"

"With you? Where?"

"We take our own quests and wander the lands keeping peace. Surely, you do not wish to go back to your cock deprived village?"

The woman considers, then shakes her head at the horrible prospect. "Indeed, no."

"Then ride with us. We will keep your cunt full, your belly fed, and your tits well suckled. Once our questing has ended you may wed us even."

"Wed? All of you?" The woman looks thrilled at the thought.

"Yes. All 3 of us. If it please you."

"It does!" She goes over to Sir Nanami who helps her onto his horse.

"Then off we go. For more adventures to cum!"

And they all ride away into the sunset.

THE END

@Aether-seawolf @Actuallysaiyan @Makingtimemine @snwvie

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[adore-laur]

DAD HARRY: PART ONE

— just harry being a doting dad & husband 🍓

——

Saturday nights haven't been this peaceful in a while. Harry and your daughter left home about an hour ago to attend a father-daughter dinner organized by a group of parents at the daycare, so you're left by your lonesome to enjoy a relaxing time without your child's newly developed and daily tantrums. She's two-and-a-half years old, meaning it's out with the newborn bliss and in with the "Terrible Twos" phase every mom has warned you about. 

She was always an easy baby; she never cried for too long or was fussy too often. There's no doubt that she's still the sweetest little thing, but some days, it can be a nightmare to deal with her. You're thankful for her otherwise reserved nature, but even then, a toddler will do anything to get what they want, and your daughter is no exception. 

Nonetheless, you and Harry handle it as a team. Both of you choose to deal with her sudden outbursts by using a calm and understanding approach. She listens most of the time. If she got one trait from her father, it's the ability to be an annoyingly good listener and hang on to every word you speak. With Harry, it's always complete eye contact, well-placed affirmations, and asking all the right questions. You suppose it's because of his job, but he claims he was just naturally born with it. 

Having been together for seven years, you and Harry have lived a beautifully intimate life on the coast of southern California, consisting of no neighbors, a secluded beach, and your little family of three. Harry works as a sous chef at a restaurant on the outskirts of town. He used to be the head chef before your daughter came into the world, but the wearisome hours he worked then would have never worked out with being a new father. He still hasn't accepted his old title back, much to your secret dismay. When he decided to demote himself, he suffered from a salary decrease and disappointed comments from co-workers. He didn't care, though. He told you that if it meant he had more time to spend with you and the baby, he would selflessly accept the consequences. 

During your postpartum days, he promised never to have a shift that had him arriving home after five in the evening unless necessary. It was a promise to always be with you for dinner, to watch the sun dip down the horizon, and to fall asleep next to you. He sometimes comes home in a palpable mood of frustration after a hectic shift, but as soon as he walks through the door and sees his girls, it's like magic the way his visibly tense shoulders sag with relief. 

There are instances when both of you need an independent getaway, but most of the time, it's the three of you together in your domestic bubble of love. You've never known a man quite like Harry. Nothing compares to his heart or drive to be the best possible husband, dad, and son. Also, you appreciate how he's so attentive and gentle with every part of your lives and how he'd go against that gentleness if needed to fight tooth and nail for his family. You've built a life worth living with him. He's yours entirely. 

And yes, his daughter has stolen some of that love, but each night before you fall asleep, it's like he can transfer every ounce of love in his precious heart to you with a simple touch. Or a single glance topped off with the softest kiss. 

As you sit alone by the blazing fire, you realize that nights spent by yourself no longer appeal to you. You want your family next to you all the time. You want your daughter to ask a million questions, mostly incomprehensible blabbering, but it melts your heart anyway. You want to watch Harry cook dinner, always putting on his actual chef coat and reading a recipe in a terrible French accent, just to make your daughter laugh. You want to watch him put a spaghetti noodle below his nose to act as a mustache, or watch him keep your daughter on his hip while letting her add an ingredient to a dish. Then, when she does, he looks at her with faux surprise and tells her she's better at his job than he is. 

Yet when your chef husband isn't home to make delicious food, you're stuck making frozen pizza. You considered having a glass of wine with it but decided not to because waking up on a Sunday morning with a pounding headache and a cranky toddler at the breakfast table is not something you want to deal with. 

With a reminiscent glint in your eyes, you finish the last slice and think about what they could be doing now. It's a little after seven, so you assume they're done eating dinner and socializing with the other dads and kids. Harry had said the restaurant was connected to a botanical garden, so they might be walking through it. Your daughter is probably exhausted. She woke up at five this morning and has been hyper all day, asking if she could go to dinner now, even if it wasn't lunchtime. 

You decide to text him and ask if he could take some pictures in the garden. Your and Harry's camera roles are filled with images of your daughter. 

I hope you guys are having fun! Please take some pictures of you both at the botanical garden. Miss and love you. Get home safe. 

You shut your phone off and stare at the moonlit water, waiting for your favorite people to come home. 

—— 

Harry is waiting for the check when he gets your text message. His phone screen lights up, displaying his lock screen, which is a photo of him and his baby girl on a hotel bed in Italy. They're both wearing fluffy white robes and are passed out from a long day of swimming under the sun and eating a boatload of food. 

That family vacation was six months ago. It was her second birthday, so he wanted to go somewhere special. Let's just say that being a chef at a nice restaurant has its perks. He had saved a lot of money after he started working more hours. Then, one day, he secretly bought three plane tickets to the Amalfi Coast.

Harry wants to go back more than anything. He has never felt more content and full of love (and carbs) anywhere else except for Italy. He swears he gained ten pounds from that trip alone, and he blames it on his daughter, who begged for raspberry gelato and ciabatta bread every chance she got. He had wanted to go back to the gym to lose weight, but you changed his mind when you told him on the last day in Italy that you found his new body attractive. You had also whispered in his ear that his thighs were thickening, and it was making you hot in the face. 

So, naturally, he took you into the shower, had you ride his thigh, and then made you come twice in twenty minutes. 

But that's beside the point. 

Harry reads your text, smiles, and then types out a response. Of course, love. We'll be home soon. We're full of spaghetti and love you very much. 

It's getting late, so he settles on taking the little rascal for a stroll through the gardens before she zonks out. He untucks his black shirt from his trousers, leans back against the chair, and rubs his hands over his stomach. It was a spaghetti dinner with seemingly endless garlic bread, so they are both now feeling the after-effects. 

Harry lets out a dramatic sigh that catches his daughter's attention. "Are you full?"

She mimics his position while nodding with a pout on her face. He laughs and starts folding his sunglasses in his shirt pocket, which he wore before it started getting dark out. He pushes their dirty dishes toward the middle of the table to make things easier for the busser. He then leaves a fifty-dollar bill as a tip. 

Reclaiming his credit card from the checkbook and putting it between his teeth, he grabs the coloring sheet the restaurant supplied and tucks it under his arm. He knows she'll want it on the fridge. 

He returns his credit card to his wallet and asks, "Ready to see the pretty flowers before we leave?" She hums a yes, and he can't help but reach across the table to pinch her cheek fondly before standing. "Let's go, sleepy girl." 

She lifts her arms in a request to be carried, and Harry picks her up with a groan. He's only thirty-one, so he really shouldn't be struggling to carry his daughter, who weighs the same as a sack of potatoes. He supposes that working in a kitchen and hunching over counters all day for the past decade might have something to do with it.

He hikes her up on his hip while she snakes her arms around his neck and rests her head on his shoulder. She'll be asleep in a matter of minutes. 

After he pushes their chairs in, he waves goodbye to the other daycare fathers before making a beeline for the commercial kitchen to bid adieu to the staff. He's friendly with some of them since he's a local chef himself, and he always tries to show his appreciation to chefs. He knows firsthand the hard work and stress of successfully running a restaurant behind the scenes.

Harry pushes the door open using his elbow and quickly catches the gaze of the head chef, whom he has talked to a few times at past culinary conventions and events. He takes his free hand and covers his daughter's exposed ear since it's noisy in the kitchen, with metal clanging and orders being shouted.

"Hi," he says, smiling politely at the head chef. "We're heading home, so I just wanted to give my thanks. The food and service were excellent." 

"Harry, it was good seeing you!" he replies cheerfully, reaching under a stainless steel countertop. "Stop by again soon. We love having your family here." 

"Will do, man. I'll bring my missus next time." 

Harry plans date nights every other week, usually finding restaurants he's never visited in the SoCal region. You've told him he gets endearingly talkative when explaining certain establishments' different cuisines and recipes. The restaurant he's at tonight has always been a favorite because he's taken you there a handful of times when the both of you were still in the early stages of dating. He even worked there as an assistant chef for two years. 

On the third date he took you on, if he remembers correctly, he may or may not have convinced his boss at the time to let him take you back to the kitchen so he could show you how to make chocolate-covered strawberries. You'd told him you had made them before, and he blushed while mentally facepalming himself; he thought he was being clever. That didn't stop him, though, because he ended up pulling something out of thin air. Turn up his charm, so to speak, by saying that his version of the classic recipe was extra special. 

Well, he had lied. 

They were just regular chocolate-covered strawberries, but he pushed up his sleeves (metaphorically and literally) and used fancy chef jargon to try to impress you. It worked—at least he thought so. Later, you admitted that you were actually just ogling his biceps every time he dipped the fruit into the melted chocolate. 

Once the strawberries were finished, Harry wrapped them up nicely and drove you home from the date. He fed you one before you got out of his beat-up Subaru, the only thing he could afford as a broke assistant chef. He will never forget you walking to your front door, half the strawberry still in hand, and then seeing you suddenly turn around to return to his window to feed him the last half. He had taken it in his mouth, chewing after taking a strangely erotic bite. He smirked at you and glanced down at your lips, which were stained a glistening red from the tart juices. 

"You're something else," he'd said sincerely, his voice raspy from work. 

"And you just scored another date with me."

From that moment on, he was gone for you. 

After shaking hands with the other chefs, Harry leaves the restaurant and walks to his Bentley. He rationally decides to skip out on the botanical garden tonight because he wants her to be fully awake to see the blossoming flowers. 

He unlocks the back door and gently straps her in, tucking her favorite blankie under her chin as she sleepily blinks at him. His heart melts into a puddle. "Let's go home to Mama, okay?" he murmurs, brushing her wispy hair back with a delicate sweep of his fingers. "I had such a fun time with you tonight." 

She yawns as ferociously as a toddler physically can, then lunges her arms forward for a hug. Harry hugs her the best he can with her in the car seat. He inhales her apple-scented shampoo while pressing kisses to the side of her head and then pulls away, poking her button nose with his thumb. 

"I love you this big," he says, spreading his arms as wide as possible. 

She giggles and copies his gesture. "Love big too," she replies brokenly with her sweet voice. 

Harry puckers his lips and kisses the air before sliding into the driver's seat. He takes out his phone to send you a quick update: She's in a spaghetti coma, so we're coming home now. We can go to the garden as a family next weekend. 

Pressing send, he smoothly pulls out of the parking lot and drives along the coastal highway with slightly cracked windows. He listens to his daughter's soft snores and thinks of you the entire way home with a dreamy smile.

—— 

You're still sitting by the fire, its flames dying with flickering embers, when you hear the garage door grinding open. You grin, immediately feeling warmer now that they're back home.

You had briefly gone inside to get a juice pouch for your daughter, just in case she came back awake. You also spontaneously decided to make chocolate-covered strawberries since you felt sentimental while reminiscing about the honeymoon phase of your relationship with Harry. 

The sound of footsteps sifting through the sand makes you turn your head. You find your husband with a sleeping angel clung to his side, his shirt untucked, and no shoes or socks on; he probably didn't want sand in his loafers. The shadow of scruff on his face is more noticeable, and the orange light from the campfire dances off his features. He looks at you, a soft smile gracing his lips as he carefully treads through the beach grass to reach you.

"I've got a delivery," he whispers, sitting next to you on the blanket you spread out. "She's unconscious and full of spaghetti, so I don't think she'll be useful to you." 

You laugh quietly and stare at your baby, who is sleeping peacefully. Your knuckles stroke her round cheeks as you ask, "How was it?"

"Good. I ate my weight in pasta and bread, but it was worth it. We had fun." 

You sling your arm around his waist and pat his stomach. "I'm glad you guys spent some time together." 

He hums thoughtfully, unbuttoning his trousers to release the strain. "I need to start watching what I eat and cut down on the carbs. Otherwise, I'll look like Santa in five years." 

He says it like he's joking, but you know he's been insecure about his weight since you were pregnant. He naturally put on sympathy weight during the nine months you carried the baby, and then afterward, it simply reached a point where he never had time to work out, whether being too busy working or spending his free time with you and the baby. He ate healthily, but some nights, he caved and ate carbs like there was no tomorrow. Plus, he's a chef, so you can't necessarily blame him for enjoying food.

When you met him seven years ago, he was twenty-four and had skinny legs and a slim torso. But if one thing hasn't changed about his body, it's his strong arms. They've held you through several situations — hugging you whenever you needed a companion, feeling the natural warmth radiating from him. Or holding your baby girl for the first time, his black tattoos beautifully contrasting the precious pink blanket that swaddled her. He could easily cradle her in one arm, fitting perfectly in the crook of his elbow like she belonged there. She still does. 

Or, arguably, your favorite, which is when he holds your body up, your back pressed against his chest, as he fucks you like no one else can. His bicep across your collarbones, his hand gripping your shoulder like he's physically claiming you, and his other hand gripping your hip, your inner thigh, your stomach...

You're getting carried away. 

The point is that his body is lovely. He still has abs from being generally fit and strong thighs that can chase after your daughter during playtime. His back muscles are masterfully sculpted from the physical exertion that goes into being a chef. His flawless face, too, but that goes without saying.

"I love your body," you say, wanting him to feel good about himself. "No matter the changes it's gone through, I adore all of your soft parts." 

He looks at you, trying to hold back a smirk. Of course, his mind immediately went to a dirty place. 

"I'm being serious. You're allowed to have insecurities. Remember when you felt bad eating all those carbs in Italy? What did I tell you?" 

Harry gazes at the ocean tide. "I was thinking about that at dinner tonight. When I saw my lock screen, I thought about that trip." He sighs and adds, "I don't know why I'm insecure when you're the only one I try to impress." 

You stare at him with nothing but adoration swimming in your eyes. "Are you feeling these insecurities because of the dinner? With all the dads there?"

He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "Why are you so fuckin' smart? I swear you're too good for me," he says with a breathtaking smile.

"I just want you to talk through these things," you explain, touching his neck. "I know how miserable it can be to keep those thoughts bottled up until the bottle breaks." 

Your thumb strokes along his jaw as you continue, "You're thirty-one. It's never too late to realize those insecurities and either come to peace with them or work on them. You know I'll always help you with whatever you decide." 

Harry exhales through his nose and settles his forehead on your shoulder. "Never stop talking to me," he says sincerely, kissing your skin tenderly.

You pinch his chin with your thumb and pointer finger. He moves his head to gently nip the pad of your thumb before kissing it. "I love you." 

"I know it," he whispers. "I just compare myself to rich, douchebag dads that own literal corporations and would probably ask me to be their personal chef in their ridiculous mansions if they knew what I did for a living." 

You offer him a sympathetic smile. He shouldn't look down on his career. It pays well, but it's nothing compared to the So-Cal dads who own Lamborghinis and have a million different job titles. 

"Harry, don't make me use my mom voice," "you say in a scolding tone. 

He grins delightedly. "I don't mind." 

"I've been with you for seven years. I was your girlfriend, married you, and pushed out a baby because I wanted a family with you. Your job doesn't matter to me in the way you're thinking. I love that you're a chef. When you first told me, I told my friends how hot I thought it was. I still find it hot." 

He's full-on blushing now. You continue, "You come home and are in such a good mood most days. Do you know why? Because you love what you do. You love the people, the food you make, and the environment, which matters most. Not money or how many cars you own. Without hesitation, you made the difficult decision to step down from being in charge so we could start a family together. You have no idea how much that meant to me. Now you have a daughter who watches you cook her favorite meals and loves you insanely. That's what you should be proud of. And that's what all those other dads should be jealous of." 

Harry's gaze flicks between your eyes before he kisses you with so much passion that you feel dizzy. You kiss him back, and he inhales like he's breathing you in. Your daughter is still asleep, so you pull away before it escalates. 

He finishes with a big kiss on your cheek, then rests his cheek against yours. "I love you so much," he whispers into your ear for only you to hear. "I'm pretty sure you just gave me a love boner." 

You laugh, feeling his dimple form against your cheek. He leans back to look at you and shakes his head. "No joke," he says, infectious laughter crawling up his throat. "You just made me hard by telling me how much you love me." 

You roll your eyes playfully before standing and stretching your back. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get her to bed." 

Harry stands and hikes up your daughter a little. With a frown, he glances down at his pants when he realizes they're still unbuttoned. He obviously can't button them with one arm preoccupied with sleeping beauty, so you help him. You lift his shirt an inch to kiss his soft stomach first, then rest your chin on it and look up at him with a smile. After admiring his handsome face for a moment, you button his pants.

Your daughter is carefully passed from his arms to yours for a brief cuddle session before she has to be tucked into bed. Harry throws an arm around your shoulders and guides you inside the house. His steps falter when he retrieves a coloring sheet and gives it to you. It's a simple one that restaurants provide, and this particular one has a scene of two bunnies frolicking in the grass. It is what it is for a toddler with no concept of artistry, and you smile proudly when you take it from him. You'll hang it on the fridge with her other scribbled creations. 

Harry opens the porch door and lets you inside first before locking it. He turns on the lamp in the living room. Then, as if reading your mind, he grabs tape from the junk drawer and attaches the drawing to the fridge. While he tidies the kitchen, you head in the opposite direction toward her bedroom.

After a few minutes, you see Harry in your peripheral vision and pat the floor in invitation. He kneels beside you, his knees cracking. He dramatically lets out a fake cry of pain, and you silently laugh while flicking his chest. He opens his mouth in offense, acting as if you just insulted him, to which you just shake your head and gesture zipping his mouth shut. He slyly smacks your ass, and you give him a warning glare before standing and kissing your daughter goodnight. 

Before you leave the room, you get revenge by tickling Harry's sides from behind and then quickly running out of the room. You know how much he hates being tickled, but you were feeling the mutual playfulness that always trickles around bedtime. You reach the bedroom, hearing his heavy footsteps down the hallway. He pokes his head past the doorway to the master bedroom. You look at him with wide eyes and sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his next move. 

Harry saunters through the doorway while looking around and nonchalantly whistling a tune with his arms behind his back. He walks to the connected master bathroom, your eyes trained on him the entire time. He turns around to close the sliding door just enough so that you still have a partial view of him.

"What?" he asks innocently, catching your eyes in the bathroom mirror. He's messing with you. And making you sweat.

"What are you doing?" you retort, crossing your legs partly to act unaffected and to ease the ache between your legs. 

He casually leans against the jamb. "Let's see... someone left me with quite a problem, so I thought I'd take care of it before bedtime like the gentleman I am," he says smugly, maintaining a stellar poker face. 

"What do you suppose I do while I wait?" you reply, confident enough to play his game. 

He deeply hums while standing straight and removing his trousers. With his thighs on display, you admire the tattoos there—a tiger on one and your name on the other. "I suppose you could get some sleep. Perhaps read. Whatever you'd like, darling, I'm not picky." He now stands in black boxers and a loose T-shirt. So cocky. 

"And what will you be doing if I decide to sleep or read?" you challenge, sliding up on the bed to lean against the headboard. 

Harry lets a smirk take over his face as he says, "What would you like me to do, honey?" 

"I'd like you to not be in there alone." 

"Will you be a good girl while I take care of the little problem you gave me?" 

"Of course, baby. You know I always am." 

One side of his mouth tugs up as he slowly nods, seemingly agreeing with you. "Always so good," he whispers, just loud enough to hear. He inhales deeply before turning around frustratingly slowly, finally pulling his shirt and boxers off. He's tan from the daily sunshine, and his back muscles flex with each subtle movement. Your mouth quickly goes dry. 

He disappears to turn the shower on but leaves the door open, which you know is an invitation. You had already changed into your silk pajama shorts and a tank top while he was in the kitchen, so you shut your bedroom door before entering the bathroom. 

Oh. 

The sight has your breath hitching. Harry's silhouette is behind the steamed, see-through shower door. One hand on the wall, the other... well, he didn't even wait for you. He has already started. You hear his quiet groans being stifled by his mouth buried in his arm, causing hot and bothered tingles to prickle your skin. 

You don't think he sees you yet, so you take your pajamas off and quietly close the bathroom door. For some reason, you suddenly remember you have chocolate-covered strawberries in the fridge. You leave him to his fun and quickly grab a towel to wrap around you before walking to the kitchen. You open the refrigerator, grab two strawberries, and then shuffle back into the bathroom. As you drop the towel, you realize he's still going. You didn't think you got him worked up that much just by talking about how good of a person he is. Each to their own. 

After hastily eating one of the strawberries, you gently knock on the glass. Harry stops abruptly and rests his face on his arm. He slightly cracks open the door to see and hear you. It takes everything in you to not look down. 

"Hi," you say quietly. "I'm here." 

He's breathing heavily, water dripping down his slick body. Wet strands of hair fall over his forehead as his eyes bore into yours. "You are, aren't you?"

You subtly glance down at the problem you gave him; it's throbbing and needs assistance. You're sure he will disapprove of you interrupting his session with a dessert offering. 

With your eyes focused on the floor, you absentmindedly draw a heart in the steam evaporating on the glass shower door and say, "I made dessert when you guys were gone." When spoken out loud, your sentimental baking idea seems stupid. "I almost forgot about them and then remembered they were in the fridge, so I brought you one. I was reminiscing about when we started dating and thought about the strawberries. Anyway..."

You're rambling too much. He was pleasing himself, and here you come, waltzing in with dessert while stumbling over words like you just met him. You need to get it together. 

Harry is still looking at you with his chest heaving, his left arm taut, and his large hand pressed against the shower wall, while his other hand still grips his cock. His piercing eyes have become darker, and they peer down at your hand holding the strawberry. The chocolate at the tip is gradually melting. His eyes travel even further down to your bare legs, then to the heart you drew. His lips twitch. 

When his gaze meets yours again, his tongue presses into his cheek before he straightens his posture. He steps toward the crack in the door and leans slanted against the shower wall, his naked body shamelessly in full view. 

You wait for him to interact with the Strawberry of Nostalgia, but he just looks at you smugly. Jutting your hand further, you indicate that he should take it again. It feels like he's secretly judging you. He's barely said anything, and now he's gazing at you like he wants to eat you for dessert. 

"The chocolate might melt off since it's pretty steamy in here," you mention with a nervous and breathy giggle. 

Harry regards the strawberry again before moving his head toward you. "Yeah?" he says with a wicked smirk. 

"Yeah," you reply, refusing to look into his eyes. "They haven't been in the fridge for very long." 

He laughs huskily, then clears his throat. "Well, I'm waiting right here, darling. I'm not a huge fan of melted and mushy chocolate-covered strawberries." 

So, he wants you to feed it to him. Like you did all those years ago when you first realized you were so gone for him. Good lord.

The steam in the bathroom is not helping your feverish body temperature. You take a few deep breaths before touching Harry's swollen lips, which you assume he's been biting on to suppress his noises. He maintains intense eye contact with you as he slightly opens his mouth. You guide the strawberry into it, and he bares his teeth while sensually biting the fleshy fruit. 

Once half of it is in his mouth, he tilts his head and chews slowly. He groans, his eyes rolling back. "So fuckin' good." 

You eat the other half to move the tension along, then throw the leafy stem on the ground. On trembling legs, you step away and admire the water droplets on Harry's lips that turn pink from the juices. 

His thumb and pointer finger wipe the creases near his mouth. He then reaches through the door's crack and brushes his slick thumb across yours before sucking on it. In desperate need of relief, you clench your thighs and shakily exhale. 

"I'll be good," you plead, utilizing your angelic eyes to get him to give in. "I won't touch you, but please let me watch." 

Harry tuts. "Are you sure you'll just watch? Or are you going to be a brat like you were with that little stunt you pulled earlier?" 

It's no surprise he's still hung up on the tickling. His ego can't take what he dishes out. God forbid he teases you because you know his precious pride will be crushed as soon as you do it back.

You bite your tongue and promise yourself to be good for him. "I'm sorry for doing that. I didn't mean to be a brat. I swear I'll behave this time." 

He beckons you by curling his fingers inward. "Come here, then."

You slide open the door further until you can squeeze through, then shut it tightly before standing across from him. The shower is spacious with a built-in bench--both of you have done your fair share of indecent activities on it. 

"Hey," Harry says lowly. "Be my good girl and sit. No talking or touching, okay? Watch me until I finish."

Nodding, you obediently sit on the bench and cross your legs to relieve the subtle pressure growing between them. You glance at Harry with innocent eyes that you know will weaken him. He gives in for a split second when he leans down and places his hands on either side of your thighs, nudging his nose against your cheek before kissing it roughly. You try not to smile at his momentary infirmity. 

"Stay put, or I'll walk out of here and go straight to bed," he warns, resuming the position you walked in on, except this time he's right in front of you. His palm on the shower wall is closest to you, with his other hand gripping his cock. 

This is going to be torture.

——

[bahrtofane]

Promises under the stars pt2

Tag list - @leanastarkey

@moonlightbaesstuff

Part 1. READ THIS IS U HAVENT PLEASEEE

Part 1 Jude pov

—-

Jude Bellingham x reader , Carlos Sainz x reader

Word count - 11k+ (I’m sorry. )

Watch it -angst. Talks of pregnancy, divorce. Kinda stalkerish behavior ? This one’s a little all over the place ngl.

Many of you and probably wondering who this man is. Don’t worry you will find out soon ^^

The long await pt 2 my god it’s finally done ENJOYYYYYYY

——————-

Jude is 6. He's clumsy, he's full of wonder. He sits in a field picking at flowers and grass while you sit on your stomach watching the bugs dance. He likes you a whole lot. He thinks you're very nice and his mommy said that you're always welcome. He wonders what will be for lunch. He doesn't know what will come much later

The rage hasn't found him yet. It will. On a cloudy afternoon when he sees you standing hand in hand with a boy you swore to hate. Hot knots form in his stomach when he sees you smile at him. He wants to punch him square in the mouth.

He’s 10. And it's only the start.

It will find him again. When he's much older, floating around through his life. Floating isn't the right word, there's nothing soft about it. When he's being dragged by it. By force. Kicking and screaming as pleads tumble from his lips to just go back to the field one more. This time he’ll pay attention he screams. He promises.

Just one more time. Anything to relive it over again. To make things right with you. To at least own up to what he's done. One chance.

It will never come. He knows and yet he still tries.

On Judes 25th birthday does the rage visit him once more. Almost like an old friend if there was anything friendly about it. This time he’s sitting in his shower, letting the water pelt his skin as he cries. There’s no soft touch of friendship to accompany the lashings.

It's a dull pain, one that starts at his throat while he tries to hold back sobs. His body betrays him, lips cracking as he tries to use his hand to bite back each cry. It spreads down to his chest, heaving breaths trying to take in as much air as he can without swallowing any water.

It proves to be too great, he starts to sputter and cough, getting up and leaning against the walls of his shower. Turning his face from the shower head. He still can't breathe. The tightness in his chest only grows till its the weight of his actions pressed against him.

It moves till his hands are shaking, and his legs are having a hard time keeping him up. He turns the shower head down to only hit his feet, sitting down in the showers built in seat.

Oh how he misses the fields.

—--

You miss the fields.

There are days when you drive by just to feel something if not feel like yourself. No matter how old or far away the self might be. It's still you, isn't it.

You wonder what life would've been without him. No fields in the summer and chasing through grass till you couldn't anymore.

His mother told you once when you were much younger, perhaps kinder, that you were always welcome. She said it as a passing comment while handing you a plate of cookies while Jude was already half way done with his.

Neighbors. You were neighbors. You forgot.

What more will you forget? Bits of pieces of your past that will fizzle away only to be brought out now and again. There will be a time where you won't remember, you know. Perhaps that will be a good thing. Make it easier on everyone that way.

You still miss the past. You miss them. Before everything went the way it is now.

You will miss them some more.

You're set to leave. Moving out of Birmingham on your birthday. You think it's too symbolic, but things just ended up this way.

You spend the night before smoking till you can't see straight. When did you pick the habit up you don't know. You bounce between cigarettes and weed. Whatever's available.

It calms you down, you say to no one in particular, white stick hanging loose from your lips as you look at your bare apartment. Curled up on the floor in a blanket. Your hair is wet. You just showered. You think youll go to sleep with it wet. You're so tired. You don't even stay up till 12 to see the birthday messages pour in.

Pouring in is an exaggeration. You only get a few when you wake up, bright and early. Mainly from family along with the gifts they got you earlier in the week. Your birthday gifts go neatly in a suitcase as you head to your new life in London. You thought about moving out of the country, somewhere far away and perhaps tropical. Nice beaches and clear skies to wander under. But you like your familiarity. And the job offer came just at the right time. So here you are.

Packing the last bit of cake from this morning in tupperware.

Your birthday was rushed this year. You weren't going to do anything till settling into your new place, but your friends insisted on doing something at your home one last time. So at a brisk 9 am your friends fill your apartment for the fastest birthday you've ever had. Cake set on the table, hat placed on your head, candles set ablaze as you make a wish. Eyes closed and begging.

You wish for things with Jude to be as they once were. You wish for him to find his way back to you. You wish to be welcome again. For the fields to kiss the tips of your fingers as you run your hands through the grass. You wish to never forget. You wish for peace. As foolish as that might be.

A click of a camera makes your eyes open. Hugs and kisses as you get passed around. There's people here you don't even recognize but you try not to be too grumpy. They all help out anyway. Cleaning up any last bits of dust and dirt and traces of you from the cream walls.

Once upon a time the same space would have held Jude, celebrating with you and wishing for more years to bless you.

But now it's completely empty, everyones left. And soon you will too.

You've decided to drive the way to London. You packed most things into the small cargo trailer that attaches to your car. The rest lat minute things go in your actual car. Snug as a bug.

Your family stops by for some last goodbyes and birthday wishes, making sure you have what you need, and off you go.

You haven't cried the whole day, not for the weeks leading up to the move. But for some reason the second you pull your car onto the road you're a mess. You dont get more than 15 minutes before you have to pull over and just sob.

Why? You pretend like you don't know. Pretend to lay in oblivious embrace by your own stupidity. But you know, oh how you know.

The same face never seems to stop from tormenting you. You bring your own misery. And you can not stop. Almost entranced by the dance that brings your own demise.

It’s Jude. has been for as long as you can remember now. Seems like it'll remain as such. Even after the whole marriage fiasco. You can not look away, not for a second. Not letting your tormented soul know a moment's rest in favor of knowing his joy. It's hard to move on so you live through twitter updates of his life and the occasional news article. Feeding off of second hand news of a man whose words used to be pressed against your skin till he was all you could feel, see, reach, touch, know.

His warmth has long seeped away from your skin. If you close your eyes just right, you can swear you still feel it.

You wonder if his wife knows this. Funny enough there's enough divorce rumors to actually make you laugh. It brings you the closest thing to ease you can feel nowadays. The possibility of his marriage ending.

You spend your time being chased by the ghosts of your past, by the shadow of Jude you swear you always see from the corner of your eye. The feeling of his hand on your back guiding you through crowds.

His wife, who you find out to be a girl named Kaylie, cannot go a week without arguing with him somewhere public and it is getting plastered all over social media and tabloids. It seems like the media has long since forgotten about you. Which is good you guess.

Has he forgotten about you? Does his memory fail him as well?

Does he keep all your memories somewhere far away from here? Or does he keep them close. Nothing more than an arms length away for him to bring to life once more.

There are days where you grieve for the life you once lived so violently it scares you. Caught up in the past and unable to truly move on.

Other days are better, and you think not of the man who once had your heart.

You hope to have more of those days.

You wipe the tears from your cheeks, freshening up and doing a once over in the rear view mirror. It's time to get going. Not just from your old home, your city, but everything it holds. All it means.

It's time to leave Jude behind the way he did to you.

—--

London is quick and crowded. You find a rhythm against the rain that beats the streets. Find your footing on the pathways. Even if you miss your home, and the familiarity of your old life.

Your new place is much smaller. No large living room. Smaller bathroom. But you love it. It feels much better. Free of your past. Untouched and only known to you.

It takes ages to move in fully, and you don't even have all that much stuff. The trailer proves to be a little bit of a hassle getting into your parking garage but you make it in one piece. The first day you only bring your suitcase full of pjs and essentials. You don't start work for a week. You have time.

In the meantime you explore. Scouting out cafes and grocery stores. You do a little shopping spree by the third day. You get sick of take out, making a few favorite dishes while you people watch from the balcony in your bedroom (you have one in your living room too!).

On the fourth do you actually move in all of your things. It takes multiple trips up and down the elevator from the underground parking garage to your building's lobby and then up to your floor. But you do it. All by yourself.

You get the main things out and sorted, leaving the decor for last. You have an in unit washer and dryer which is really nice. It came fully furnished so there was no need to bring any of your old things with you so you sold them. Couch and table and all. Good riddance.

By the 6th day you're completely moved in. and the place starts looking like yours. You settle in for a movie scrolling through work emails and any last minute things to get done.

You actually did it huh.

—--

Your new workplace is vibrant. So you find colorful hues to pick at, pass your time with. One particular color comes in the form of Carlos. He's red, you decide.

He’s a few years older than you. Lips are usually pressed into a thin line, concentrating on all that's around him. Or on some days you find them to be cracked in an easy smile. He's experienced and been around the block of many things. He's warm and inviting, chatting with anyone with a smile and ease. So different from the Madrid star boy that plagues you.

You come to learn Madrid is Carlos’s home town. How fun. You don’t take it to heart.

He guides you where you stumble or hesitate at the office. Always happy to lend a helping hand. You learn that he's very high up on the pecking order. The kind of high up that doesn't even clock in. But it doesn't stop him from treating you like an old friend.

You're not back to your usual self, not yet at least. And you have a hunch that he picks up on that. When your gaze falls to the floor he doesn't reprimand you. Nor when you tend to space out. He lets you move at your own pace, it's all unbelievably kind. Especially considering you just got here.

He was the one to do your first day orientation actually.

“If you need anything at all feel free to find me, i'm usually in my office down the hall,” he handed you a little welcome basket filled with goodies. Soft smile while he guided you to your desk.

He’s intimidating at first. Tall, large, handsome. It's easy to feel out of place next to him and his fancy tailored suits. His walk that never falters and voice. You like his accent. You told him as much on the first day, you probably shouldn't have. Too much right? He didn't seem to mind all that much. Sheepishly smiling and mumbling a thank you before going back to setting up your email.

You noticed the way he kept picking at his nails the rest of the time.

In truth he’s anything but intimidating. He's kind to you, gentle. Never once making an advance, a comment, a passing glance. Everything is strictly professional.

—--

Your gaze is starting to flicker to Carlos. Uh oh trouble trouble.

You read up on code and triple checked with HR policies. And since he's not your direct supervisor, there's nothing stopping you from pursuing him. He's technically not in the same department as you (took you a month to figure that out). They just placed him here to help out in the meantime. Everyone's short staffed you guess.

You won't be making any moves, romance is the very last thing you need right now. You haven’t even recovered from the last one. Besides you don’t even know how to love anyone else but Jude. He’s the only one you’ve ever known.

You arrent ready to learn how to love someone else. Will never be ready you fear.

All this and it's hard not to get jittery when Carlos walks by. Just look at the man.

He is so sure of everything it seems. Not afraid to speak up but he's not aggressive either. He's found the perfect balance and you can't help but admire it.

The way he smiles at you makes your heart leap to your throat, even if you know the same smile is mirrored to everyone else in the office. You don't really care.

Smile at me again, you want to say, smile just for me.

You think you have a crush.

Oh you're so screwed.

—--

Carlos has found his way over to your desk at the start of each morning. Briskly walking by, poking his head into your cubicle and asking you how you're doing.

He's sweet. Too sweet. It's making getting over him even worse.

“How are you doing today?” he says, greeting you with a smile.

“Good! Just finished all the work I needed to get caught up on.” you turn your monitor to show him.

He hums, “amazing thank you. You can send everything over at once at the end of the day.”

You nod, making a note of it on your sticky notes, covered in little flower doodles you’ve mad to pass the time between meetings and what not. He tries not to smile too hard at this. He thinks you're a perfect addition.

—--

“Oh come on make a move.” your friend groans over the phone.

You roll your eyes, setting your phone down on your desk and tidying things up in your room. It’s bed time and some peace and quiet is the last thing on her mind it seems.

“i’m not gonna do that.” you grumble, playing with the strings on your pjs.

“why, he’s perfect!”

“Remember the last time I said that about a man?”

Silence.

—-—-

It's late when you finally finish up the paperwork for the day. Closing your 30 some tabs and sighing in relief when you sign out of your desktop, clocking out for the day. Your knees hurt and you think you have a cramp somewhere on your calf. Perfect perfect perfect.

There's not a peep in the office anymore. Everyone save for the janitor has gone home. Well everyone but Carlos, who sits in his office typing away and answering the occasional phone call.

You know he's no stranger to staying late but this is the first time it's only been the two of you. In fact, he stayed behind in order to help you out. What a strange reaction your stomach does. He stayed for you. You you you. Hm.

You had refused at first, but he only waved you off, telling you to send the documents his way and that was that. He's been in there since noon, and you are so grateful. Yes you’re new, yes you learn fast but jeez a little help is always appreciated. It came in the form of a very persistent Carlos, who are you to say no.

You gather your belongings and make your way to Carlos's office. Door just open enough for you to see him squinting at his laptop. Chewing his bottom lip and tapping his foot against the tile of the floor now and again. His suit jacket lays on the back of his chair, white dress shirt sleeves rolled up enough to watch his arms flex while he types. You swallow hard.

"Hey, Carlos," you say, your voice breaking the silence of the empty office.

He looks up, offering you smile but you don’t miss the way it falters at the edges. He’s tired. "Hey, heading out?" he asks, his voice soft in the silence that surrounds you. Gruff around the edges from not speaking as much as he’s used too.

"Yeah, just finished up," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips.

He nods, his attention returning to his computer screen for a moment before he stands up, stretching his arms above his head.

“I appreciate you sticking around to help me out," you finally say, breaking the silence.

Carlos shrugs, his smile turning slightly sheepish. "Hey, no problem. We're a team, right?"

You smile back, an odd feeling blooming in your chest. "Right." You begin to slip away from his door frame but his voice stops you.

"Mind if I walk you out?" he offers, gathering up his things.

“Oh I wouldn't want you to go out of your way.” you wave.

“Nonsense,” he shakes his head, “its pitch black out and its dead empty. It's not safe. What kind of supervisor would I be if I didn't?”

You hold back a frown, right. He's your “supervisor”, not much more. You hesitate, looking outside floor to ceiling windows. Covered in the pitch black expanse of night. It does give you the creeps. You haven’t been in the parking garages this late.

“Okay,” you nod. Just loud enough for him to hear.

He cracks a smile, swinging his suit jacket back on and heading out.

He walks at a much more leasuriy pace while you weave your way out of the cubicle and offices that line the hallways. You find yourself falling into an easy conversation with Carlos. He asks about your transition to London, your thoughts on the city so far, the usual small talk.

“Which garage do you park in?” he asks when you reach the elevator.

You lean against the wall,”the C one, 3rd floor.”

He nods, pressing the buttons and humming under his breath.

It scares you, just how fast Carlos has made his way into your life. Made his presence known. As if he's saying look at me, I'm here to stay. But is he truly?

Maybe you really are going crazy. Who knows anymore.

And as you step out into the cool night air, the rain misting softly against your skin, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you're starting to leave Jude behind. Genuinely this time. Oh if you can just stop thinking of him.

Carlos isn't a bad replacement by any means. Some would even call him an upgrade. He's made London seem not so daunting anymore. Ever more so apart as he walks you right up to your car, wishing you a good night with a small nod and smile.

But a part of you simply just can’t move on.

—---

Carlos sits next to you at a work dinner. Fancy restaurant that's all paid for. Something to celebrate the recent great work. How can you say no to free food?

A few others from your department are here, names you don’t bother to repeat. You know a handful of girls at the table have eyes on Carlos, thanks to the printing room gossip.

Especially a very cat like Jessica who’s cubical is right across from yours. According to Janice from accounting, she’s been trying to get with him for ages, and no matter what she does Carlos always turns her down and attention back to work. You had laughed the first time you were told about the infamous coffee fiasco that apparently everyone and their mother has heard.

Janice had told you while you walked out together to your cars. Giggling the whole time.

“Oh you should have seen it. Jessica walks into his office back first holding a coffee and runs into a share holder who’s walking out at the same time. Boom her white blouse gets absolutely drenched. The best part? Carlos didn’t give a damn.” She snickered.

Jessica now sits across from you, tight black dress on and her signature head of burgundy hair shining in the lights that shine above you.

You had expected at least some drama from her, especially when you were told you were invited by Carlos personally. But no. Nothing. Not even when the meal ends and everyone says they good byes.

You take this as your chance to talk to him more privately, to at least thank him for being so kind to you.

So when the chatting dies down and he pulls out the company card from his wallet, you turn to talk to him more. Everyone is getting up out of their seats at this point. Grabbing purses and shuffling for the door. But you stay behind, leaning what's probably far too close into his personal space, and speaking only when you know none of your coworkers are watching.

You lean in closer to Carlos, he smells good, as always. Tailored suit framing him all too well. Your heart is beating a little faster, faster than you'd like. Much too fast to just thank him for being nice for heavens sake. For a moment you think he can hear it through your dress. It's red, though it would match him well.

The servers flash by you but you register nothing but his gaze, the way it flickers to you as you move. Time slows you think, while you try to swallow around the bile that builds in your throat. Speak.

"Carlos," you begin, your voice soft, "I just wanted to thank you for always being there for me. I really appreciate it."

His lips curve into a gentle smile, his eyes meeting yours with warmth. "It's my pleasure," he gives you a small nod, tucking the company card back into his wallet.

Encouraged by his response, you continue, "I... I've been thinking a lot lately about how lucky I am to have you as a colleague. You make everything seem so much easier and I cant thank you enough for how kind you've been to me. Especially joining half way through the quarter. “

As you speak, you notice a subtle shift in Carlos's demeanor, a flicker of something else in his eyes as nods for you to continue.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is..." you pause, your heart racing, “thank you for taking your time with me.” The words come out too fast and jumbled together but they’re out.

His brows furrow so quickly you almost miss it. But they’re replaced with a smile faster than you can blink. His expression softens further, his gaze holding yours. "That's very sweet of you," his voice barely above a whisper.

You wring your hands in your lap, sweating bullets as you hang on to each world that tumbles from his lips.

"Im very glad I could help, and that you think so highly of me. It’s always my goal to help everyone.” He finishes, getting out of his seat and wishing you a good night.

—--

Something shifts after the dinner.

Maybe it’s Jessica who leaves for a neighboring branch in France. Or things slowing down enough for you to pick up new hobbies and think about getting a cat. You’d like a cat. Something to care for, look after. Love.

Or maybe it's the new way that Carlos looks at you.

He’s been…different to say the least. He spends more time at your cubicle than any other. He sends you coffee every morning. He doesn’t even get on you for scrolling through Pinterest when your work is done, as long as its done he does not care. It’s to the point that dear old Janice has picked up on it and even asked you.

”So Carlos huh.” She laughed one day while you were picking up your files.

“Huh?” Like a deer in headlights.

”Oh come on he might as well camp out at your cubical you two are very obvious.”

You blinked. Once. Twice.

”We aren’t together?”

Janice thought you were lying for a solid week before she actually believed you. So yes things have taken a turn. Not good, not at all. You thought thanking him for his kindness would be it for you. A way to confess without actually confessing.

You don’t want anything to do with romance. Not for the next 30 years. You are so so good.

——

You stop responding to the kind words and you feel horrid. So so horrid. You thanked him and now you don't look him in the eye when he does the same things you praised. You shut yourself into a cage refusing to even acknowledge that he exists. Only talking to him when you have to. And even then you’re curt on a good day.

It becomes too much all too much for you to bear being around him for more than a minute.

You can’t do it, you just can’t. It feels so wrong. Like you’re just like Jude if not worse.

You scroll through his instagram on bad days. Unblocking him just to end up crying when you scroll down to that damn post yet again. Just married. You want to comment kill your self but you don’t want to get your account banned.

You click on his story by accident, he's on some island. You hope the plane crashes.

You probably need therapy.

And Carlos, sweet sweet Carlos, never takes your sour mood to heart. You wish he would give up. For your sake. For his sake.

“His” sake. It’s not Carlos.

——-

You aren't even dating. Not seeing each other, not involved. And he never stops trying. Never once is unkind to you.

You know if you’d outright tell him to stop he would in a heart beat. But you don’t, letting him continue the dance alone. People in the office have noticed and started taking a dislike to you. If only they knew the half of it.

You say yes to going out after pictures of Jude and his wife on vacation break out.

“I wont force you if you don’t actually want to.” Carlos sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

You give him a timid mile, “I want to, trust me.”

Even if the want is only wanting to move on.

“Committed to our marriage.”

You still don't truly hate him.

——

He doesn't know of your history with the man. You don't want him too. Especially considering Carlos is prpbbaly the biggest Real Madrid fan to ever exist. Madrid is his home town for fucks sake. It’s like a big joke is being played on you. You don’t find it funny.

A part of you is just using him as a placeholder. Holding out hope. Hope for what you're not all too sure about.

For a man who abandoned you to come back and make it all better?

Your new lover you feel pity for. You're a lost cause. A stick in the mud. You shy away from the most basic of things. Holding hands, hugs, an arm around your shoulder.

He still doesn't give up on you. You wish he would.

Carlos doesn’t care that you can’t stomach kissing him just yet. He’s happy to wait, to take it step by step.

“I just, I can't Carlos. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Well take it at your speed. I promise.” A smile.

Carlos is kind to you, even when you're not the same back.

He goes back to his department come winter, and you see much less of him at work. It makes you miss him oddly. No random pop ins and your favorite drink in his hand.

No asking how your days been at lunch. No running into each other when you’re both in the printing room. Giving eachother shy smiles.

Hm.

——

You learn Carlos is a big gift giver. He spoils you. He only wants you to have and experience the best. Always on his arm showing you off. There’s no hiding with him, no forced to duck out of the way in case of cameras. He always pays when you go out, and always a little bag in his car waiting for you.

”Carlos getting me jewelry every time you see me is too much.” You frown. Sliding into the passenger of his rather adorable Volkswagen Golf.

“You don’t like jewelry?” He frowns, sliding his seat belt on.

“No I love it I just feel bad you spend too much on me.” You sigh.

”Please take it from me, it really is nothing. I want to give you even more.” A chuckle fall from his lips.

You learn in the same week that his family owns the damn company. “Why the hell didn't you tell me?’

he shrugs, “it's what I liked so much about you. You didn’t know and it didn’t affect how you saw me, treated me.”

”I feel so stupid Carlos.” You mope.

—-

Life is easy with Carlos. He’s grown on you and you open up. Piece by piece and taking your time. He leaves no room for doubt. Always there to guide you with a hand on your back, pinkies intertwined.

His successes are yours, and yours are his. You cry together. You celebrate together.

At events he brings you on stage with him to bring good news about the company. Toasting with you by his side. The days with him are good to you. And they turn to months.

You meet his family when things get serious. And you try not to let the past influence you too much.

What if they hate you? What if it's a repeat of everything you tried so hard to leave behind? What if his mother refuses to see your face?

He only reassures you with soft kisses and warm smiles. “They’re going to love you. Just be you. “

Just be you.

——-

You take a trip to the countryside of Spain for the weekend. At the cusp of spring, to meet his family. You fly first class, your first time, and knock out for half the time. He holds your hand the entire time, rubbing his thumb along your skin while he tells you more about his childhood. You even learn a few phrases in Spanish, you hope your accent isn’t too awful.

When you get to the winding driveway that gives way to the most picturesque white house on a hill you try not to gasp. It’s gorgeous.

His mother immediately welcomes you with a crushing hug when you step out of the Uber, boasting about how gorgeous you are.

You meet his two sisters, Blanca the oldest, and Anna the youngest.

They greet you with wide smiles, excited to have you. Leading you to the patio of the villa to chat. Carlos insists on taking your bags while you bond with his family. You give him a look while hes half way through the door with both bags in hand.

“Go go i'm sure they want to gossip!” He shouts from the base of the stairs.

You sigh, shaking your head at him with a smile while his sisters take you to the living room.

“We've been dying to meet you!” Anna giggles.

“Carlos never stops talking about you, you know. That already speaks volumes he's a private guy.” Blanca adds.

You give a nod, ”I'm happy to be here. He talks about you guys all the time too, good to put faces to the names.”

“Come we’ll show you around.” Anna gets up.

And you follow. Meeting the dogs and watching Carlos kick around an old golf cart till he gives up and heads back inside.

You meet his father who gives you a tight hug.

“You like golf?” He has a club in hand.

“I never actually played.”

“Carlos you haven't taught her?!” He gives his son a scowl, “Come, I'll teach you.”

So you do. Spending hours in the Spanish sun trying to learn technique.

“She might be better than you Carlos!” his dad laughs when you get the ball right into the hole.

He sits on one of the patio chairs, drink in hand, arms splayed on either side.

“Maybe she'll beat your record.” He hums. Eyes crinkling while he watches you chase down balls that you hit too far.

The afternoon winds down and you find a seat next to him.

“Have fun mi amor?” Pressing a kiss to your hand.

“Golf is actually kinda hard.” You huff.

He laughs,”not too bad though right?”

You shake your head, “no it was fun!”

“That's good. We're going to start the grill up in a few. What are you feeling burgers or kebab?’

You hum, taping your index finger on your chin, “anything you want is fine by me.”

He gets up, giving your head a pat, “kebab it is,” heading over to where the large grill sits against the stone wall.

You head inside to find his mom getting plates out.

“Anything I can help with?”

“Oh no honey you're our guest, go relax.” she waves.

“No please, it's really nothing.”

“Nonsense!”

“I insist you all have been too kind.” you try.

She places a hand on her hip, ”fine fine. You can help me get the table set.”

And you do just that.

You stick around in the kitchen helping Carlos make the actual kebabs. Grinding the meat while you hand it off to him to mix in the spices and assorted greens to the mix.

Next he shapes them using his thumb and first two fingers, squeqwering the meat into each wooden stick and setting them in the fridge in batches.

When the grill is up to temperature, in they go with vegetables and steaks.

You eat surrounded by laughter and warm smiles. Your belly is warm and full, and it's not just the amazing food.

His family shower you in so much love it feels like you’ve known them for ages. Soft smiles and preening at your compliments. His mother says yoy fit right in and his sister are happy to have another girl.

By the end of the night his dad is calling you his daughter.

—--

Jude has a rare few days off. Nothing on his plate, nothing to do. It comes unexpectedly. The fault of bad plannning, mismanagement, something like that. He didn’t listen past when they told him days off. Music to his ears.

Kaylie has been kinder to him, and hes been able to stomach being around her more and more. If not for her for his child.

They might be married but he holds no love for her. Nothing at all. How can he? But that doesn’t mean he cant at least try to put an effort to make things work. The very last thing he wants is for his baby to be stuck between homes or worse yet ages away from him. Not knowing who he really is and fed lies by Kaylie. He knows how she is.

Cunning, sly. Add fur and she’d be a fox.

He picks and chooses his battles and today he chooses peace. Getting some flowers and her favorite take out place on the way home.

He comes home to his house dark and void of any signs of her. The curtains are drawn, the tv off, so is the ac. Hm. No ones home.

He gives Kaylie a call, but it goes to voicemail. She does this often, ignoring him and doing what she wants. He doesn’t really care. She’s most likely out shopping again.

He sighs, setting the bags down on the counter and heading to his-their- room.

At the foot of the bed there’s a grey satchel looking thing. He doesn’t remember seeing that. And he’s not one to snoop but its in his bed, left out among a few clothes. Maybe its the maids and she forgot? Hm.

When he picks it up there’s some weight to it, the draw string come undone as he moves it close and out tumbles a silicone sheet.

Brows furrowed he picks it off the ground, turning it in his hands. It’s realistic, like it was made to mimic human skin. Bumps and ridges along one side while the underside is smooth. It tapers off on either side to make two Velcro ends. There’s a belly button in the middle.

When he realizes what it is, Jude wants to throw up.

The past year flashes in his mind till hes reeling. He cant see, tumbling back into his bed as he clutches the sheets.

The fake silicon baby bump tumbles out of his grasp and onto the floor, flopping like its laughing at him. Mocking him for being so god damn stupid.

The rage he’d tried to hard to ignore, to wipe out from his body rises up like a summer heat. Trapping him in his own body till hes blinded. He throws whatever he can see. Trashing the room. He can barely breathe.

In his own home hes been made an idiot. Under his own roof that he pays for he worked he that he built from the ground up hes been manipulated. His movements slow till he feels like a single cloud after a storm. Aimlessles floating looking for pourpse.

Jude leaves the house in an instant, taking pictures and tucking the item into his back seat. He’s going to his lawyer. Now. He needs a divorce.

——-

Kaylie dismisses every accusation. Calls him a lair, every name under the sun.

He has cameras in his home, a detail she never knew of. He got them installed before he even moved in. They work in his favor as his lawyer brings up the footage. His mother is seen brining bags inside and setting them down onto the table. And out comes a box, and out of the box, the satchel.

His mother bought it for her.

She admits to it when called up. Shrugging like it’s the most natural thing she’s done. A choice as easy as breathing. To fate her son to such misery. To betray.

The divorce happens. Even after it takes weeks. He leaves her.

Why don't you pick up?

——-

Carlos proposes in the same time frame that Jude divorces. While you celebrate with his family you see the news. It’s everywhere, plastered on every site and app and news outlet. Jude Bellingham divorced. A younger part of you feels excistatic. And the current you tastes something sour in your mouth while you read the headlines.

A part of you took Carlos as a placeholder. But you gave up, no more waiting. And now that the wait is over and you are to married? There is nothing left to say, want, need.

It’s so wrong. All so wrong. You have a fiancé.

He’s more than sweet enough. And yet, in every moment spend with him, there’s a humming on the back of more mind filled with fields and stadiums.

You wonder if he thinks the same. If he keeps up with you in any way. You wonder if your engagement has made him feel anything. You hope it has.

A part of you hopes his divorce came as a result of your own news. But who knows.

—--

When you find yourself in Madrid you’re greeted by a family that has become your own. They call you the jewel of the family. Proudly showing you off. It’s hard to think of anything else.

His mother takes you to get your nails done with her while you catch up.

“How is Carlos treating you?”

“Oh he’s lovely. You raised him extraordinarily.” You smile.

She preens, promising to take you on the coast when the weather is warmer. Go out for a swim even. Anything you’d like.

You get matching colors and walk out arms linked and smiling.

——

You learn that Carlos, before you, had given up on love. It was a thing he dreamed of. A thing unable to attain. Something akin to the stars. There to see, not to touch. Never to have or to know fully.

He had whispered it to you in the darkness of his room after a homemade dinner. The best pasta you’ve ever had. The compliments made him blush and get all jittery. It’s adorable.

“I just never thought I would be able to have this.” He breathed out.

You gave him a firm kiss, cupping your hands to his cheeks. “I’m the one who should be saying that. You’re amazing Carlos. You amaze me everyday. I’m so lucky to have you. To love you.”

A beat of silence. Sniffles. “I adore you.” He mumbles out while he tucks his head into the crook of your neck. Gentle hands combing through his hair.

That hes had his fair share of flings and unserious girls around him. Only about two he’s actually brought around his family. On whim and a half baked thought turned to full trip. And those ended in a dumpster fire apparently.

“It was so out of no where he never talked about her and then he calls saying hes brining this girl over.” Anna waves her fork in hand.

Today they’ve come to visit London and you’re out for dinner just the three of you. Carlos is working late and he insisted you go meet them at the resurant.

“Send me pics!’ Was his only request while you gave him a kiss at the door.

“Oh she asked for a promotion almost 20 minutes in.” Blanca rolls her eyes.

Anna nods, “i don’t remember her name but I remember her horrid sneer. Like she was part shark or something. Creepy. I think Carlos was just trying to prove that he could love since both of us are already married.”

Prove that he could love.

But he loves so easy it’s hard to wrap you mind around. Someone so lovely and sweet having trouble. Your heart aches for him. Both of you have had shit luck previously huh.

——

The middle of summer you get introduced to the annual family reunion dinner of sorts.

“It’s nothing crazy dont worry. Just grilling and more Sainz at the house.” He assures you.

So you pack up again and head to Spain. He always gives you the window seat. Puts all the carryons into the over head bins for the both of you.

It’s nice, being able to turn your brain off for once.

The dinner is a whole affair you come to learn. You’re in the kitchen prepping with everyone while both Carlos senior and junior get to setting up more tables on the patio.

The theme is white this year. You brought two white dresses just in case.

The chaos soon dissolves into a steady rhythm as the prep comes to a close and you wait for guests to start arriving. You get changed in one of the spare rooms they’ve given you each time you come. Stepping down the stairs to a crowd.

His family is very very big. Huge even. All pouring in the property in fancy cars and watches on their wrists that cost more than your yearly rent. Yikes.

You shrink on yourself, sticking to the kitchen and absentmindedly rearranging plates and taking a seat at the dinning tables as you watch the greetings from the windows.

His mother spots you. In a gorgeous sleek jumpsuit and white shawl to match.

“Oh you look lovely.” She beams.

When you don’t return the ethusiam she frowns. “What’s wrong my dear?”

You look away bashfully. “Nothing at all.” Forcing a smile.

She takes a seat next to you, taking your hands in hers. “Nonsense. You can talk to me. I promise you’re a daughter to me.”

You sigh, turning to face her. “You’re whole family is so lovely. So grand. I feel like I'm not enough or I don't belong sometimes.” You admit, wringing your hands in your lap.

Her brows furrow, “you’re a part of the family my love. My Carlos loves you, so do the rest of us. That alone means you belong. Not to mention what a gem you are. You’re an exceptional woman with both your character and achievements. Don’t sell yourself short.” A hand squeezes your shoulder and you look at her with so much appreciation you might cry.

“Thank you so much Ms Sainz, really. You’ve welcomed me so sweetly. I'm so honored. “

She rises out of her seat, taking your hand in hers as she guides you to the door. “Come now, we’ll walk out together. Don’t worry i wont leave you till you say so. “

You give her another great full smile, taking a fabric of your dress in one hand and head out to greet the rest of your family.

——-

You sit nestled next to Carlos and his mother. At the end of the table while the maids handle plating and serving the food. You’re emmesnly greatful there is no grilling to be done on your end in the white dress that trails on the floor.

Carlos gives you a smile among the chatter that surrounds the two of you. His mother rises, and in an instant all eyes are on her. You hope one day you can command half as much attention as she does.

She says most of her words in Spanish, a few you catch onto (Carlos has been teaching you here and there. Giggling at your accent but you’re getting there!)

She raises her glass and the last part comes out in English. “We thank everyone for coming. You all are welcome here, as our guests and as a part of the family.” Sending you a smile at the last bit. You can't help giving her a wide smile in return. Reaching your eyes and so big it hurts your cheeks but you don't care. You’re so happy to be here.

Carlos gives your hand a squeeze under the table, eyes crinkling into. Familar smile.

Something clicks for a moment.

You let nostalgia and familiarity cloud your judgment and hold on to a man with no real sense of direction in his life. Pushing away Carlos. Sweet sweet Carlos who only wanted to love.

——-

You mention your apartment being stuffy and within the week there are an unfamiliar set of keys sitting on your living room coffee table. A red string tied into a bow on them is the only thing that accompanies them.

You know exactly who it’s from.

You call him and he picks up immediately. “Hey baby.” There’s a curl to his voice. He’s smiling.

“Carlos. What’s with the keys?

He hums, “they’re for you.”

“What?”

”You know if you ever get tired of your place. You have a house now. If you want it under your name let me know I’ll send the papers over.” Said with the most casual tone in the world. Like he dropped off flowers instead of keys to a house.

“I’m not following.” Thumbing the keys in your hand.

“I bought you a house. If you dont like it- “

”I love you.” You blurt.

He giggles on the other end. “I love you too.”

He helps you get moved in on the weekend while you hold back tears the whole time.

——-

You go out to dinner for your birthday. Fancy restaurant on a rooftop. He brings a camera and takes so many pictures you worry he’ll have no more storage after this.

Both of you are matching red. You in a floor length dress and him in a suit with red detailing at the seams. Just enough to catch the light. Just enough to make it obvious that you two are a pair. It’s cute.

You eat in comfortable silence while the sun sets. Many kisses shared.

“How does dessert sound?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Sounds lovely. Where are you thinking?”

”Little ice scream shop down the road? The one with all the toppings you like.”

You smile, “yes please.”

You figure there’s no need to get to the valet so instead you get on electric scooters, laughing while you ride down the side walks through the night.

You know you probably look immensely silly. In fancy dress zooming past pedestrians while you can't stop laughing but you don't really care. You’re happy. You’re so happy.

——

You marry Carlos in his family home under the Spanish sun no more than 2 years later. Your family is ecstatic, his mother can't stop crying from joy.

“You’re the greatest thing to happen to my Carlos.” She weeps while bringing a hand to your cheek.

It makes you cry till the makeup artist has to come in and make everything right again.

You walk down the isle and it feels like a dream. Carlos cries while watching you walk to him. His lip wobbles during the vows and you barely hold it together long enough to kiss him.

You’ve grown to not just love him. You adore him.

The years Carlos has given you have been filled with only bliss. His family frequent your home for dinner when they’re in London. And you even got the cat after all. Carlos has warmed up to her. A little black fur you named Luna. Very original but you love her.

She’s at the wedding. In a tiny white collar with a white boy sitting in his mothers lap purring.

The family dogs are in similar spots. The wedding is in the back portion of the property, he built more of the porch walkway to make room for guests and seats.

Your first dance is so soft and sweet you feel like you’re in a dream. Or when cotton candy touch’s water, melting into glittery threads of sugar.

The night it filled with so much love. You forget about all your troubles. It was worth it you think. Worth it to end up here.

——-

Carlos is a baker. He bakes you blueberry muffins to take in to work every morning and always has hot pancakes or breakfast. A good pancake never needs syrup, he says. And his never do.

He tries new berries and flavors with each season and gives you a kiss when he drops you off at your cubicle.

Janice was right after all huh.

——-

When you’re in Spain or his family in London you go touring the sights with his sisters when you can. Going cafe hunting and bringing home treats for a very giddy and hands Carlos at the end of the day.

“What’d you get up to today?” He mumbles in between kisses.

“Your sisters brought out baby photos.” You giggle. “You were a cute baby!”

He snorts, “I was well behaved.”

You give him a look, handing him a small box filled with pastries, “not according to Blanca you weren’t.”

He shrugs, icing already on his nose that you happily kiss off.

——-

On your next birthday you take a quiet night in and a homemade dinner full of all your favorites at his home. He wears a stupid kiss the chef apron and makes him pose for pictures. You send them to his sisters (you have a groupchat of the three of you)!

You watch him work his magic, cooking in fluid motions and when its time to eat you almost melt.

“I think this is your best ever,” you mumble in between spoonfulls.

He giggles, kissing the apples of your cheek taking a seat opposite from you. “I’m glad love. Happy birthday.”

There’s a small box on the table that you haven’t noticed yet. Too small and rectangular for a ring. It's only when you clean up do you notice.

“What’s this?” Gently picking up the box in your hands.

He stands at the sink washing the dishes in a way to avoid your gaze. He’s shy. ”My gift to you.”

You open the box and out tumbles another pair of keys. “You and keys.” You grumble, but with no real venom.

“Carlos are these car keys.” You hiss.

He hums a tune under his breath in favor of answering you.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, feeling the ridges and creases. You recognize the logo. You’ve mentioned it on a whim here and there. Or that one time you saw it parked at a restaurant and you took a picture.

Leave it to Carlos to never miss anything. He’s giving you a damn Porsche for your birthday.

You set the key down on the coffee table. You help finish up the dishes kicking him out while he pouts about it being your birthday and he should be doing this for you not the other way around. A kiss and a promise gets him out and to the living room.

When you’re all done he leads you to his garage. Where a Porsche in your favorite color stands. Gift wrapped with a red bow and your name on the fender.

How did you end up living a life like this?

———

Jude finds you after years of digging. It takes just ages and he blows through so much money but he finds you, in London living in a house bigger than his own in Madrid and cozying up to a man he's never seen before.

He’s long cut off contact with his mother and the rest of his family. His brother he sees from time to time. His dad only briefly. Still no apology from him. He’s rather die than see his mother again and she knows that. She stopped sending Christmas cards ages ago.

He has business to finish. One that’s ages old and begins before he could understand the world around him. Begins with you, and it seems to always end with you. Call it fate or some cruel joke being played on him. Jude never got over you. Never has never will. You’re all the love hes ever known. Learning you got married almost sent him down an alcoholic rampage. But he had a ballon dore to set his eyes on (and he won, did you see?)

His source of information (a mutual friend) lets him know the man is named Carlos, comes from old money. The type that has houses on every content and still doesn't know what to do with it all. Too much to spend and not enough time to do it all.

That's fine whatever, he can do one better.

He shows up at your doorstep at the cusp of spring. There’s something poetic there, spring bringing new beginnings and all. Maybe there is a beginning to be made from the buried buds of yesterday's winter. He tells himself to not get his hopes up to high but the mere thought of seeing you again makes his skin tingle.

So up he goes. Don’t ask how he got passed the gate, a secret he will never tell. Chill still in the air and wrapped in a coat and scarf up to his nose. He tries not to gag at the matching porches that are parked outside.

He silently prays that it's you who will open the door.

Jude is nearing 30 now and he fears he may not have much more time left to chase you across the country.

A few rings of the doorbell is all the warning you get until you come face to face with the man who you've been so desperately trying to escape for years.

“Jude.” He melts at the sound of your name from his lips. Just as sweet as he dreams. The years have been kind to you. You look just as remembered. Just as full of life, of wonder. Just a tad bit wiser perhaps.

He nods, stepping forward. You back up, closing the door half way and hiding behind it.

“I'm sorry,” he begins, fists clenching at his side, “I'm sorry for every single second I left you alone. I was a coward. I was- fuck I was stupid and it cost me you. I rehearsed this a million times and I can't even find the words to say to you.“

“Jude. I'm married. There is no sorry. What's done is done.”

His face pales, “No please you can't just-”

“Can't just what, leave? Like you did? How did you think it felt when I heard of your wedding through instagram Jude please let me know. Because it wasn't jumping for joy. Or when you would ignore me for days till it became months.”

“I was young and stupid I didn’t mean-”

“No!” you shout, hands gripping the door knob. “You don't get to barge into my life whenever you feel like it. I'm married. I love him and he actually gives a damn about me, go figure. “

“You have to hear me out.” he pleads.

“No I fucking dont Jude!” you cry.

Footsteps pad up behind you, door opening further to reveal Carlos who puts a protective hand on your waist.

“Why are you making my wife upset? Can I help you mate?” His eyes do a once over Jude, unimpressed. Madrid super fan or not you come first.

“Mate?” Jude scofs. Seriously this is the guy you replace me with, what a joke.”

Carlos presses his lips into a thin line,”get off of my property.”

“Yeah right or is it all your dads. Damn trust fund baby. I hope you enjoy the money. Fucking nepo baby.” Jude points a finger at him.

You sigh, “Jude you need to leave, now, or i'll call the police and you get to escorted off the property by them and the whole world gets to watch your image crumble. “

He walks off of the front steps at this, head hung low and taking one last look at the two of you. Sneering at Carlos before he stops away.

Carlos looks at you, frowning. You have a lot of explaining to do don't you.

—--

“Jude, Jude Bellingham at my door. What was that about my love?” He gets a glass of water, taking a sip.

You sigh, sitting back on the couch.

“Carlos… where do I even begin.” Rubbing your eyes aggressively.

“Wherever you want,” he shrugs, leaning on the kitchen counter.

“Jude and I were once neighbors, friends, lovers. Everything. I loved him so much that I didn't even care that he would ignore me for months till once day poof! He announces he got married on instagram of all places while I was a wreck so I moved out of our hometown. Came here. Meet you. Rest is history.”

”Why is he back?”

you shrug. “Hell if I know. Last I knew he got divorced won the ballon dor. I haven’t talked to him since he left me.”

Carlos nods, setting the cup down and joining you on the couch. “If you want a restraining order we can do that?”

You shake your head, “I dont want to make it bigger than it needs to be. If he keeps trying we can talk about it.”

”Okay.” Pressing his lips to your forehead. “Mom wanted to get brunch with you but you can cancel after all that.”

You sit up. “No no! I’d never miss brunch with her i’ll start getting ready.”

Carlos smile at you, padding back upstairs to your bed room to get ready for work.

——-

The next family vacation is in Italy. Partly due to the champions league and partly because its his mothers turn to choose. You happily agree tagging along and seeing the family jet for the first time. (They have a jet???) you still have some getting used to do with the way they live their life.

It’s a welcome distraction to the shit show that was at your door.

You do some sightseeing and have brunch all together accompanied by his sisters husbands as well. Both kind men who would do anything for both sisters. It’s sweet, to have a family full of so much love.

You split up after brunch and Carlos wants to do some sightseeing and you of course go.

You end up walking round Milan for hours till you get hungry and spot a little hole in the wall, street food stand that Carlos can not wait to try.

You get in line and brush your fingers against the buckles of Carlos jeans while you wait. He pouts saying something about how it should be the other way around followed by more quips that make you laugh loud and bright.

There’s a figure that you dont see, standing on the opposite side of the town square that recognizes your laugh from a mile away.

Jude is here, of course he is. But its not to sight see. To compete. He left his hotel with a mask do get some fresh air before all his physicals and here the universe has brought you to him once again.

You dont see him, of course you dont. His gut twists while he watches you laugh in ways he never did him him. He feels like a creep, watching you and your husband laugh into each other with matching smiles. Like hes doing something he shouldn’t, watching something he shouldn’t. But he cant bring himself to look away.

Not when you place your order or when Carlos feeds you some of his portion. Nor while you giggle when some gets on your nose and he wipes it off for you.

He waits for some sort of reaction to the public. Braces for judgment but nothing comes. It’s here that he’s reminded how different his life and yours is.

Everything you couldn’t do with him you now freely do in the streets with your husband. The word makes him sick. Husband. It should be him there not that corporate sell out.

Jude tears his eyes away when he gets a text from a teammate. 20 mins till he has to check in. He should leave. He’s seen enough.

——-

Rumors behind to float around Carlos. Wicked and dangerous. They come out of no where and they span from everything and anything under the sun.

You no longer get work at the same firm. You both agreed that Carlos was more than okay to support the two of you. And you liked the idea of being a stay at home wife, mom, etc.

But the rumor begin to draw you into the mix. That you married him for money. That you not got the job because you were fucking him.

That Carlos only got his position due to his father and so forth.

His reputation is on the rocks and a careful set of eyes from afar watches how you repond.

Leave him, come back to me. He wants to say

You dont do any of this. If anything you become more attached to your husband. Unwavering and refusing to leave for a moment.

——

Jude finds you once more in a coffee shop. Setting down a cup next to you while he hovers over your seat. It’s the same drink his mother used to force you to order near the end. You don’t acknowledge it even if it’s the only one he knows you to drink.

It’s the cusp of full now. Months after his first intrusion. You watch as eyes crowd him till there’s a circle of people around you with phones out. You feel sick for more reasons than one.

“Jude.” You warn.

He sits down. Ignoring the eyes. He’s desperate now. And frankly he doesn’t care about the backlash at this point. He only cares about one thing. You.

”im sorry i just cant watch you live you life with him and ignore what we had.”

“Jude-“

”Just please listen to me that’s all I ask of you.”

“You have nothing i want to hear.” Crossing your arms.

He starts to cause a scene. Voice rising and drawing even more attention if that’s even possible.

You agree, 3 minutes. That’s all he has.

He breathes a sigh of relief. He starts off by saying “hazelnut coffee right? your favorite”

It’s not your favorite, it was the only drink his mom ordered for you because it was supposed to keep you from bloatingit’s not your favorite, it was the only drink his mom ordered for you because it was supposed to keep you from bloating.

You stare at his face reminding yourself that he really doesn’t know you at all. When you don’t answer he picks at his hands. Finding the right words

“She’s gone and everything is right now. we can be together again just like we promised it’ll be us agaisnt the world. just me and you. I always loved you.”

“you’re late jude. I’m married. I can’t leave my life behind for you.” Crossing your arms over yourself.

“Why not?”

Your eye twitches. “When you had the opportunity to actually give a damn you didn’t. You didn’t fight. Hell you didn’t even speak and left me in the dust for some no name you stuck your shit in one night and got off too. And now what i’m supposed to go running back?”

“So what now? you want to be with him? He isn’t even someone worthy of you.”

“And you are Jude??”

“he left you here at a cafe alone easy to find.”

Your patience is wearing thin.

“I know we have history. And I know our childhood together was sweet. But the past can not keep you tethered and making decisions based on it. You can’t keep chasing things that no longer exist Jude. I’m no longer yours and I haven’t been for a while now. “

“What do you mean it doesn’t exist” he desperately tries to grab your hand.

But Carlos walks in. Putting a hand on your shoulder and staring Jude down. Almost as if saying go ahead, try it again. “I’d appreciate it if you backed up and away from my wife mate. I wont ask you again.”

he helps you get up, putting your hand over his. When you stand does Jude notice a baby bump.

It’s this moment that Jude realizes that hes lost you, completely and wholly. There is no redos. His own cowardice lead to this. And now he watches the woman he loves walk hand in hand with another.

———

CHOSE YOUR ENDING

JUDE. CARLOS.