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chilling-seavey · 4 months ago

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Dreamland (ln4) - Part Eight

↳ A/N Thank you all for so much love on this little silly story that I just jotted out in my free time! I really took a chance with posting this and the traction it's received has been incredible to see. We still have the epilogue ahead of us, but here is the final part of Dreamland <3 looking forward to hearing your thoughts!!

↳ Inspired By: 'Can We Pretend That We're Good' by Daniel Seavey

↳ Summary: Your secret relationship with Lando goes against everything your management demands and with the start of the new year - the year that is supposed to bring you both joy - everything feels as though it is crumbling around you all at once

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 17.9k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, oral sex (m and f receiving), spanking, dirty talk, leaning into Lando's breeding kink fr, unprotected pregnant sex.

PART SEVEN || EPILOUGE

Lando stood in the archway to the living room, the carefully wrapped gift box clutched in his hands. Dinner had just been finished moments before and the dishes were put away and his family sat together in the light of the Christmas tree and side table lamps as they welcomed the last evening of the year together. Winter break had started two weeks earlier and since Lando had arrived home from university, he had been in a constant state of silent anxiety as he kept an important life-altering piece of information from his parents and his siblings that the passage of time did no favours in concealing. The longer he waited, the worse their reactions would be, he was sure.

You had told him often - almost daily - that he had to tell them soon that you were pregnant but every time he tried to, the moment didn’t feel right. For most of his young-adult life, his parents had constantly underestimated him and brushed him off and called his aspirations nothing more than empty dreams. Now, that he finally had his biggest dream come true - you - he was half terrified that his family was going to ruin it. He couldn’t stomach the idea of someone making him feel badly for finally getting what he had always prayed for.

It was now New Years Eve and he knew he couldn’t go into the new year with such a weighty secret.

“Lando!” his brother called, “Come on! We’re starting charades and we need you to even out the teams.”

His brother and sisters and parents looked his way expectantly and Lando hesitated in the doorway, glancing down at the long gift box he held in his hands. He had spent hours and days pining over what to get his parents to break the news to them and with some spending money that he had put away from the funds he earned while working for you in Monaco that summer, he finally found something he thought was perfect. He still felt sick with nerves.

“What do you have there, son?” his father asked.

Lando shrugged shyly and then pushed himself away from the wall with a soft, “Just…a little something for you and Mum.”

His youngest sister groaned, “Way to make the rest of us look bad with the extra gift.”

“It’s nothing like that.” Lando promised, “Not Christmas related.”

His mother smiled and held out her hands for the gift from her spot on the couch, “You’re a sweetheart, my boy.”

Lando held onto the box for a second longer as if knowing that once it was in her hands, there was no going back. His father shuffled closer to his wife to join her in opening their gift and Lando stood anxiously in front of them with his hands clasped in front of him. The rest of the Norris siblings peered around him to watch nosely as the parents untied the gold ribbon and took off the lid of the narrow box.

The bottle of red wine was lifted from the tissue paper inside and his mother smiled, “Aw, Lando, that’s nice of you, honey.”

“Read the label.” he whispered with a dry mouth.

The room was quiet and he stared at his parents’ faces as they both read the floral patterned label that was applied to the side of the bottle. Their content expressions fell into confusion and shock.

“What does it say?” his middle sister pressed.

“Oh, fuck, mate, what did you do?” his brother groaned.

Their father read the label out loud, “‘Pairs well with becoming grandparents. Baby Norris coming this Spring.’”

Silence.

Lando swore the level his anxiety was at had made him go deaf because he had never heard his house that quiet in his entire life. He swallowed thickly. It sounded like it echoed across the living room.

The way his parents were looking at him, Lando couldn’t tell what they were feeling. With flat expressions, his father��s eyebrows furrowed and his mother’s face having gone a little pale, they just didn’t say anything. Lando would have rathered yelling.

His brother’s sudden snort of laughter broke the silence followed by his two younger sisters snickering from behind him. Lando didn’t move, narrowed in on only his parents despite the comedic nature of his siblings.

“Didn’t know this was April fools.” his brother said, making the other two laugh again.

“It’s not a joke.” Lando said softly.

His mother blinked at him, “Huh?”

His father let out a nervous little chuckle, “Really? You can’t be serious.”

“Why would I joke about this?” Lando asked.

“Who’s pregnant?” his mother inquired.

His brother teased to the other siblings, “Lando is.”

They burst into giggles of laughter again.

Ignoring the obvious immaturity and facetious remarks of his siblings, Lando gestured to the box, “There’s something else in there.”

His mother reached in and pulled out the small piece of paper that housed the most recent ultrasound that you had sent him a copy of. The black and white image clearly showed a growing baby to the point where you could easily make out a head, arms, legs like it was almost a photograph. Your name was printed in the top left corner.

His parents’ eyes shifted from your name to Lando’s face as he stood in front of them and desperately tried not to throw up. The paper was turned around to the outstretched hand of his sister and the siblings leaned in to look.

“That’s photoshop.” his brother announced.

Lando snapped, “It’s not.”

“Lando…” his father started.

“She’s pregnant.” Lando spoke the words out loud for the first time ever. “And it’s mine. And after I graduate, I’m moving to Monaco to be with her and the baby.”

“Lando…” his mother tried.

“Lando’s in dreamland again.” his middle sister sang.

“Stop.” Lando glared at his giggling siblings. “This isn’t funny. Stop thinking that I’m some stupid kid who can’t make a life for himself how he wants.”

“This is what you want?” his father pressed. “You want to be a father at twenty-two?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Lando, you can’t be serious.” his father laughed humorlessly, “You’re still a child yourself! You’re seriously telling us that you got this girl pregnant? The girl that you might as well have a shrine for in your room? The one you’ve been stuck in clouds about for months?”

“We were seeing each other in Monaco when I was there working for her company.” Lando explained, “I couldn’t tell you because no one was supposed to know but…”

“So she, as your professional superior, took advantage of you as her intern?”

“No.” Lando cut in quickly, “It was nothing like that.”

“Sure sounds like it to me.”

“We…” Lando ran his hand through his hair as his flushed cheeks expressed his stress and his slight embarrassment as he admitted, “We were sleeping together even before I worked for her.”

His youngest sister snorted from where she was leaning forward against the couch beside him, “Not possible. She was on tour. You told us.”

Lando glared at her, “When I saw her on tour, you idiot.”

She put her hands up in defence.

His mother tried to reason with him, “We haven’t even met or spoken to this girl.”

“So?” Lando snapped, his heart racing, “Just because you haven’t met her suddenly means I’m lying? She’s a New York Times Bestselling Author; she’s busy. She’s pregnant and busy and I would have liked if my family actually offered me some sort of support for once rather than looking at me like I’m a fucking loser! Why do you hate me to be happy?”

“We’re just saying…consider your options.” his father said as gently as he could. “You’re still young.”

Lando was right there with his stern response, “She’s twenty weeks along. Our options have long been considered. We’re having this baby and if you don’t want to be a supportive part of it, then I’m gone.”

“Lando-” his father called after him as he stepped over his wide-eyed siblings and stormed out of the room without a look back.

Fighting tears, Lando heaved himself up the stairs and right to his room, slamming the door behind him just in time for the sob to overtake him. He pressed his hand to his mouth to try and keep himself quiet, his whole body trembling with adrenaline and frustration as he sat himself down on the side of his bed and did the only thing he knew to do when the troubles of his family got to him.

landonorris: They took it badly georgerussell63: What?! How?! alex_albon: Oh fuck alex_albon: What did they say? landonorris: They literally didn’t believe me landonorris: My siblings laughed in my fucking face and after convincing them that I didn’t make this up my parents basically accused her of abuse of power over me and pushed ‘other options’ at me like I would EVER think of getting rid of the baby I prayed so long for landonorris: It was supposed to be a happy moment and it was miserable and now I’m just crying in my room landonorris: I want this semester to be done and I want to start my life with her alex_albon: Damn mate :/ I’m sorry alex_albon: That really sucks georgerussell63: Wow I mean I’ve heard of parents being upset from news like this but straight up not believing you is new alex_albon: Honestly georgerussell63: I don’t even know what to say mate alex_albon: You know that we’re happy for you more than anyone else and we’ll always be here for you georgerussell63: Btw have you decided on godparents yet alex_albon: George omfg alex_albon: Not the time alex_albon: (but it’s definitely me) landonorris: I can’t even think about that right now I can hardly breathe alex_albon: Hey hey hey alex_albon: It’s okay, take some deep breaths georgerussell63: She loves you and that’s all that really matters here, right? landonorris: Yeah landonorris: I can’t wait to get to her alex_albon: She’s all yours landonorris: Still hard to believe sometimes georgerussell63: I know!! To me too georgerussell63: You’ve only been talking about her for months and years and decades alex_albon: Manifesting works 🫡 landonorris: Can we change the subject? I think I need to distract my brain georgerussell63: Sure mate what did we want to talk about landonorris: Alex how’s it going with Lily? alex_albon is typing…

The knock at Lando’s bedroom door interrupted his conversation and he looked up as his mother cracked open the door and peeked in. He sighed at the sight of her, knowing that another exhausting conversation was about to ensue.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

He shrugged but didn’t decline.

She came inside and gently closed the door behind her, carrying two stemless wine glasses filled with a little taste of red wine each, and she sat down beside her youngest son, offering one out to him. Lando locked his phone and set it to the side so he could take the glass without so much as a thanks.

“Thought we should give that wine a try.” she said, “And it seemed like you might need some.”

Lando barely cracked a smile and raised the glass up to take a sip of the rich bitter drink.

“We’re not upset with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” she explained cautiously, “We were just…very, very surprised.”

“I’m not lying.” Lando stated flatly.

“I know. I didn’t say you were. You have given me no reason to believe you would be lying about this.”

Lando swirled the wine around the bottom of his glass haphazardly, not wanting to look at her.

His mother continued, “Do you want to tell me about how this all came to be? You and this girl and how come I knew nothing about it? You always used to tell me everything.”

“I felt stupid when I told you guys anything about her.” Lando admitted quietly. “She was always just so unattainable in all of your eyes and you constantly made me feel like I wasn’t ever going to be worthy of her. Even when I tried to tell you about the job, you guys just laughed at me. It’s like I’m never good enough for you and especially not when I’m making my own path and finding someone who is literally the girl of my dreams.”

“It was never my intention to make you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. I know your siblings are hard on you sometimes…you’ve always been so sensitive despite your tough shell and thus an easy target for them…but you should always feel welcome to tell me anything. I’m your mother. I love you no matter what.”

Lando sniffled and finally looked over at her, “I hated keeping all this from you, Mum.”

His mother smiled sadly and wrapped her arm around his back to pull him close. With a kiss to the top of his head, she asked, “Can you tell me about her? You met on her tour, right?”

A little smile grazed Lando’s face at the simple offer of being able to talk about you, “Yeah. I waited in line for almost hours and when she signed my book…I just had to offer some Bristol restaurants and one thing led to another in this conversation and she ended up taking me up on my offer to show her a good place. We went to Giovanni’s.”

“Always your favourite.” his mother gave him a squeeze.

“And it was all I could hope for. She’s so amazing. She’s just a person, Mum. I always knew that but everyone else doesn’t…they always hold her to such high standings and pressures and I think I was the first person to really see her for her.” Lando tapped his finger against the rim of the glass nervously, “And…we slept together that night.”

“I see.” his mother’s slightly amused tone had Lando biting back his blushing smile at his confession. It wasn’t horribly drastic to admit since they must have known from his pregnancy announcement but telling his mother when he lost his virginity was nevertheless slightly embarrassing.

“And we’ve talked almost every day since.”

“So when you came home for summer break…”

Lando nodded as he sat up straight again, “Yeah. We were talking.”

“And that’s how you got the internship.”

“Yeah.” Lando took a sip of his drink again before continuing, “Although the internship was more of a coverup for an excuse to spend the summer together. I did work and I did get paid for the work but no one other than her closest friends and mine could know. Her entire team had no clue about us.”

“Not even your mother.”

Lando assured her easily, “Or hers. But not that you guys here would have ever believed me. Dad was ready to file a lawsuit the second I told you that it happened in the summer.”

His mother set her hand on his arm, “You let me handle your father. You know how set in his ways he can be. He just sees your potential and wants you to make the most of it.”

“I don’t want to be an accountant, Mum.” Lando admitted strongly, “I’m going to finish my degree and make the most of all the money that you and Dad were kind enough to give me for school, but I don’t see myself there. Not at all.”

His mother just listened as he let his bottled up thoughts tumble out.

“The only thing I strived for these last four years was to get to her and that sounds so ridiculous, I know, but it’s true. I worked so hard to be able to get to where I am now and no money or time or anything could have gotten me there as diligently as my own determination and I did it and I love her so much, Mum. She’s my whole heart and thensome and all I’ve wanted in life. I have prayed and prayed for her for months and almost years and she’s even better than I had ever dreamed. And to have a baby with her?”

Lando was beaming despite the tears that shimmered in his eyes and he looked everywhere but at his mother from the overwhelming emotions that pulled at his chest.

“God,” Lando chuckled wetly, “I still can’t believe it. I keep pinching myself just waiting to wake up because all of this is too good to be true. Everything that I have prayed for and worked so hard for is mine. She is mine and we are having a baby. I’m gonna have a baby, Mum; a baby as perfect and beautiful as she is.”

“Oh, my Lando.” his mother smiled through her own brimming tears and pulled him in for a hug. Right away, he was melting into her arms and let out a relieved sob that came with the weight of his words and feelings that had been lifted from his shoulders. She held him close and rubbed his back and spoke to him softly, “You are in love, my boy. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice and it is all around you.”

Lando could only choke out a little, “Yeah.”

“If this baby came from a place of love, then no one can take that away from you.” she whispered. “I just wish you told us sooner so we could help you. She’s twenty weeks, you said?”

Lando nodded as he sat back from their hug and she wiped his cheeks free of tears with her thumb.

“My silly boy.” she tisked, “You don’t have to do this all on your own.”

“She’s all on her own, Mom.” Lando admitted, his voice trembling, “Her whole family is in a different country. She’s in that city on her own with the pressure of the paparazzi and her management and PR already gave her a really nasty warning that she is to not be seen with me because it’s bad for her image because the public is going to think like Dad thought about her using me and…”

“Okay,” his mother set her wine glass down on his bedside table so she could have two hands to hold his face in her warm palms, “I’m going to help you figure things out. Let me talk to your father and-”

“No. He’s just going to judge me like he always does.”

“Your father loves you.” she told him. “Immensely. Maybe he holds you on a pedestal as high as the world holds this girl of yours and maybe that’s wrong of him. I will talk to him. Don’t worry.”

Lando nodded.

The sudden ringing of his phone pulled them out of their moment and Lando immediately turned to grab his phone from beside him on the bed and saw that you were FaceTiming him. He didn’t have to say anything as his mother saw your name on his screen - punctuated with an orange heart emoji - and she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him in to kiss his cheek.

“Love you.” she whispered before getting up to give him his privacy.

“Love you.” Lando replied with a sniffle and wiped his eyes so as to not be caught crying by you when he answered the call.

His mother paused in the doorway for a moment and before leaving, she said, “Tell her I say hello.”

Lando grinned and nodded.

The door closed behind her and he answered your call to catch it before the ringing stopped and he shuffled back on his bed a little more comfortably as your call connected. Soon, your face appeared on his screen and he smiled widely.

“Hey, you.” you said, your voice a little choppy as your connection worked to stabilize itself.

“Hey.” Lando replied gently. He took a second to stare at you on the screen of his phone with you in your hoodie and messy clipped back hair.

“You took a while to answer. Did I interrupt something?”

“No, not really.” Lando shrugged, “Was just talking to my mom. She says hi.”

Seeing your face break into a grin at that statement had Lando smiling right back at you.

“Oh. Tell her I say hello back.” you answered, “Does this mean you told them?”

Lando nodded, “Yeah. I did.”

“Oh gosh.” you shifted on your bed to literally sit forward with nervousness, “How did they take it?”

“Honestly? Really bad at first.” Lando sighed, “I was ready to pack up and leave. They thought I was lying.”

Your eyes widened, “Lying? Why?”

“Because it’s you. And they know you as this unattainable girl I have been pining after for months.”

You smiled fondly at him, “Aww.”

“But Mum came upstairs after and talked it out with me and I told her everything and she’s more than willing to be there for us every step of the way. It feels like such a relief.”

“Oh, I’m so glad.” you sighed, “I want to meet your family soon.”

“At least my mom.” Lando said, “The rest might take a little while to simmer down after today before I will let them anywhere near you.”

“Protective Lan.” you teased.

“Always protective over you.”

You giggled sweetly and leaned back comfortably on your bed.

“How’s baby?” he asked.

“Wanna see?”

“Yes, please!”

You shifted on your bed and lifted up the hem of your hoodie to show off your growing stomach, angling your phone down so he could see. Lando habitually moved his phone closer to his face as if needing a better look and he grinned ear to ear at the sight of that visible curve over your belly. You pushed the waistband of your pyjama shorts down a little farther so the full sight of your abdomen was on display for the camera and your hand rubbed over it in happy circles.

“Here’s baby!”

Lando absolutely swooned, “Our little sweet potato!”

“Yeah!” you smiled and turned the phone back to your face, “Baby’s been really wiggling around in there this week. It feels so weird.”

“Maybe he or she is enjoying all those Christmas treats.”

“Maybe…I can’t get enough of those cream cheese cookies my family makes. They’re like crack. Maybe I gave baby a sugar rush.”

You shared little laughter through your respective phones.

“But we’re okay.” you said, finally answering his question, “We miss you.”

“I miss you too. I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in person since early October.”

“I know.” you sighed, “It’s not fair.”

“That’s okay.” he said, “Only means our reunion will be even better.”

“I can’t wait to kiss you.” you admitted shyly.

Lando broke into a grin, “Me too. The second I see you, I’ll be kissing you like my life depends on it.”

“Maybe it does.” you giggled.

“Feels like it. I’m, like, going through withdrawal.”

“Aw, me too.” you smiled, “Lando withdrawal. Worse than any drug, I’m sure.”

“Not that we’d know.”

“No. But we can assume.”

“Educated deductions.”

“Of course. We are very educated after all. My man is going to come home with a whole degree.”

Lando nodded, “Working hard for you and our little sweet potato.”

You tilted your phone back down your body to show your hand on top of your modest bump, “And we are very proud of you.”

“I love you so much, I can’t get over it. Feels like my heart is going to explode.” Lando breathed.

“Oh!” you shot up in your bed, “Wait, I have to show you what I got from my aunt for Christmas!”

Lando laughed lightly, “Can you tell me you love me too?”

You stopped suddenly and looked right at your phone, staring at him through the camera like he was ridiculous to ask, “I love you too. Always.”

Lando smiled, “Okay, show me what you got.”

He watched happily as you gave him a little tour of your few things you received in the prior few days of celebrations and you told stories about being back home for the holidays. You told him you couldn’t wait to show him where you grew up and the places that inspired your books and your goals…and to introduce him to your family cat who came into the camera at one point and flicked her tail in your face. Life felt so good with you, even if he couldn’t physically be with you. That time would come soon enough.

There was nothing you would rather have been doing to ring in the new year than FaceTiming him. As a little virtual party for two (three, if you counted your unborn baby), you counted down the final few seconds together until the clock rang at the hour. Lando stared fondly at your sleepy smile as you laid on your side on your bed back home, and you wished each other a happy new year.

“New year, new us.” Lando proclaimed.

You smiled softly at him through the phone.

There was a pause as you just stared at each other and Lando tried not to let the melancholy look on your face completely break his heart. He rolled over onto his stomach, still holding his phone in two hands, trying not to let his own heartache show.

“Don’t be sad, sweetheart. We’re having a baby this year.”

A small smile pricked at the corner of your mouth and you let out a soft, “I know.”

“And now both our families know…and I’m going to be with you soon.”

You sniffled and rolled onto your side on your bed, replying softly, “Yeah.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” you sighed to the ceiling, “I just wish this year could be easier. I just know it’s going to get harder.”

“Management?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck them.”

You chuckled faintly, just trying to humour him.

“Don’t let those dickheads ruin our year and the excitement of having our baby.”

“I’m trying.” you mumbled. “I don’t want to tell them I’m pregnant but at the same time I feel like I need to tell them. They might be able to guide me on how to go about this in public but they might also…be mean about it.”

“No one is mean to you on my watch.”

Lando’s defence was cute but you knew he was more the passive type, comforting you after the fact rather than sticking up for you. That was fine. He wasn’t used to the industry anyway and the worst thing would be him accidentally making things worse. His comfort was more than you could ask for anyway. It was more than you were used to.

“Y’know,” you said, discreetly desperate to change the subject, “you’re my greatest blessing to come out of the last year.”

Lando grinned ear to ear, “Right back at you, my dream come true.”

“I can’t wait until you can come home.”

“Soon, sweetheart. Just keep kicking Monaco’s ass until then. I’ll be back with you before you know it.”

As far as Lando knew, you were living life no differently: still that impressive best-selling author with a glass framed office and a bathtub full of money; your kick-ass personality virtually untouchable. In reality, you were at an all time low. Ever since October when that picture of you and Lando together was posted online by some stranger, management had forbidden you from seeing each other and between that and your balancing act of pregnancy hormones that you were trying your damnedest to suppress, you felt miserable.

Walking around on eggshells every time a member of your management or PR team came into the office was growing increasingly difficult as the weeks went by and your baby grew larger and larger inside you. It was getting harder to hide and you were terrified of what their reaction would be if they ever found out. So you ended up working from home all to avoid it. All you really had to do was write and the few meetings you had to join you could do so virtually, so you faked an illness and kept yourself cooped up in your million dollar Monaco apartment all by yourself. Well, you and your unborn baby who kept you company with those fluttering little wiggles inside you.

What started as a few days of working at home turned into a nearly permanent relocation after winter break. The moment you landed after Christmas and New Years, you hightailed it right to your house and didn’t leave for days in fear of someone finding out your secret. The iron fist of your management would be worse than the public’s ridicule, you were sure. There was nothing to do but avoid, avoid, avoid.

Your friends were starting to grow worried. You still texted them and video chatted with them, but you were different and they could sense it. It was as if your anxiety could be felt through the screen. They knew you better than anyone - and even better than Lando, although no one would admit that to him - so by the time two weeks had passed since you had returned to Monte Carlo and you hadn’t stepped foot out of your house even to visit them, your friends were ready to stage an intervention.

The knock on your front door pulled you out of your trance as you sat on your living room couch with your feet up on the coffee table. You were in sweat pants and a hoodie with the hem of the sweater pushed up to your chest so your modest round belly was on display and you were rubbing it like it was a magic-8 ball with the powers to cure your writer's block. The front door felt ages away so you didn’t even bother to look over at it when you heard the knock, too comfortable in your cozy cocoon on your couch, your body’s imprint nearly dented into the cushions from the days you had spent there.

Your laptop’s text cursor blinked mockingly at you from your screen and you stared back at it, melancholy. There was another knock on your door and then the doorbell rang right after and you frowned as you glanced over at your foyer but didn’t make a move to get up. You were twenty-two weeks pregnant after all; getting up from the couch felt like climbing a mountain. The sound of the doorbell had made your growing baby wiggle around inside you and you rubbed your warm hands over your belly to calm them.

When you thought you were in the clear from the mysterious caller at your door, the bell rang again, multiple times, in quick succession. You groaned and heaved yourself up from the couch, just wanting the noise to stop.

“Fuck, I’m coming…I’m coming.” you grumbled, pulling your hoodie back down to hide your baby from your unwelcome visitor.

When you opened the large front door, your four best friends stood bunched together on your front step: Oscar, Lily, Charles, and Max. They all grinned at the sight of you and you just scowled.

“What?” you sighed.

Charles pushed past you to welcome himself into your house and the other three followed as he announced, “We missed you and you were being strange in your messages so we came to cheer you up.”

“I’m fine, Charlie.” you closed the door behind them and crossed your arms tightly.

Oscar eyed the empty takeout containers that littered your kitchen island, “Clearly you’re not.”

“I’m growing a whole human…it’s tiring. I’m tired.” you shrugged.

“Is that why you’re not coming into work?” Oscar asked, “Because it’s hard to be an assistant to someone who isn’t there.”

“Yeah.” you answered flatly, sitting yourself down at one of the stools at the island with a habitual hand magnetizing to your belly. “I just don’t want to be out there right now…around people. Now that I’m showing...”

“Well it makes sense you feel like that but you can’t let your fear control you.” Lily countered, “You’re sitting here alone for days on end eating junk food…when was the last time you saw sunlight?”

“When I opened the door to you four.” you answered under your breath.

“If you’re feeling like this, why don’t you stay with Max and me?” Charles offered. “We have the guest room…you’re always welcome. Then you don’t have to be all alone.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure, you can. It’s no trouble.”

“I don’t wanna leave my house.” you pouted, pulling your sleeves over your hands as you stared at your lap, “It reminds me of Lando here.”

“Lando’s not gone.” Oscar reminded you, “He’s going to be back with you soon.”

You retorted quietly, “And when he is, management is going to know that we haven’t cut ties.”

Max sighed and stepped forward, having observed your interactions since you had opened the door, and he set one hand on the island countertop beside you. He nudged your chin with his other hand and you reluctantly looked up at him with a frown.

“You’re going to have to rip off the bandaid at some point.” he said, always the realist when it came to your work. It was how you connected most through being in similar public careers and you treasured his wisdom and advice like a big brother. “You’re going to have to sit down with your team and tell them how it’s going to be.”

“I have a contract.” you protested weakly.

“Re-work it to fit everyone's needs. Talk to Pierre. Get him on your side so you can team up.”

Lily spoke up, “Pierre knows just as much as management knows.”

Max added, “And he wants out of this ridiculous deal as much as you do.”

“He won’t risk his career for me.” you explained, “If this PR relationship is what keeps him afloat then he’s not going to risk it.”

“You won’t know that for sure unless you ask.”

You groaned and slumped down into your arms on top of the island, “I can’t do this. My body aches and I’m tired and I miss my boyfriend and I hate my life.”

Charles grabbed your arm, “And you’ve been staring at the same white walls for two weeks and that does not help. We’re taking you out…to get a proper meal and to get some mental stimulation.”

“I can’t go out there.” you frowned.

“Yes, you can.” Lily gestured to your hoodie, “No one can tell.”

“Under this?” you pinched the fabric, “When do I ever go out in hoodies?”

“You look nice.” Oscar offered.

You sent him a disbelieving glare to which he just shrugged.

“Then just put on jeans,” Charles offered a compromise, “and let’s go.”

Your friends had a way of convincing you to do things that no one else was able to and you lugged yourself down the hallway to your room to change into the new pair of maternity jeans that came in the mail the other day. Charles and Oscar were cleaning up your kitchen when you returned from your room but no audible thanks had to be shared, your little sheepish smile said enough. They were too good to you.

In the driveway was Max’s black Genesis SUV and he unlocked it with a chirp of the key and he opened the passenger door for you. You hesitated and glanced at Charles who just shrugged as he climbed into the backseat with your other two friends.

“You get priority because you are with child.” he said.

“Wow, you are all treating me like royalty.” you gushed and climbed into the expensive leather seat. “I should be depressed more often.”

“Ha ha.” the three chorused sarcastically from the backseat.

When Max got behind the wheel, he slid on his designer sunglasses and turned the key in the ignition, “All set?”

With a trio of “yes!” from the back, you joined in with a, “I don’t know where we’re going, but sure!”

It seemed the four of them had planned a whole little afternoon for you, starting with lunch at an upscale restaurant in the city to which Max paid for you and Charles while Oscar and Lily covered themselves. On the way back to the car, you told him he didn’t need to do that but Charles just linked his arm in yours and told you that he insisted.

You had to admit it was a little nerve wracking being out in public and every time you felt the flutter of life move inside you, you tensed up as if everyone around you could tell. But no one ever looked up. Despite the comfort that your little group brought, you found yourself texting Lando on your way to your next destination.

-Hi you <3 I miss you

As he often did, he answered almost right away,

landonorris: Hi my love! I miss you too landonorris: How is your day? -It’s nice. My friends are taking me out somewhere fun for a surprise…although our group feels a little funny without you landonorris: Aww 🥰 landonorris: Glad they are keeping my two favourite people busy in my absence landonorris: Taking good care of you? -They always do -FT later? landonorris: Yep! 8:00 like always? -Can we do 7? I can’t wait that long landonorris: Of course baby 🧡 landonorris: Go enjoy your day now 🧡 -🧡🧡

“Sappy.” Lily sang over your shoulder as she spied on your messages.

You held your phone to your chest shyly, mumbling defensively, “Not nice to peek.”

“Yeah, he could have sent an inappropriate picture.” Oscar added.

“Ew!” Lily laughed as she sat back in her seat with Charles shaking his head with an amused smile between them. Max sent him a little smirk through the rearview mirror at the constant joking that occurred within your close knit group.

The Nouveau Musée National de Monaco was your surprise destination and you couldn’t help but let an excited smile come to your face at the sign that you passed into the parking lot. Your friends knew you too well and a quiet, peaceful day admiring artwork was something that you didn’t know you needed until you were there.

And peaceful it was as you navigated the exhibits together in a little herd, admiring painting after sculpture with your hands behind your back because otherwise you kept gravitating to touch your stomach. Your friends gave your sleeve a discreet tug every time you made that slip up. The five of you shared whispers here and there about what piece you were looking at, what you liked best, and even shared a few jokes when they were relevant (mostly pointing to the most ridiculous looking subjects and saying “that’s you”). You felt calm for the first time in a while.

Well, until management called.

When you didn’t answer his 7:00 FaceTime call, Lando figured you were just busy with friends and lost track of time. But when you didn’t answer his good night message or his good morning message, he started to get worried. His eyes were fixed to his phone as he got ready for class in the morning, your text thread opened with his unread messages staring back at him, his heart thudding hard in his chest as worst-case-scenarios flashed through his mind.

He couldn’t be blamed for triple and quadruple texting you throughout the morning, desperate for some sort of response. But even your friends weren’t answering him when he asked them if you were okay and by then Lando was ready to call every hospital in Monaco before his first class of the day even started. With his coat on and backpack over one shoulder, Lando stood at his desk and typed one last message to you, pleading for an answer until he nearly made himself sick with worry.

The sudden incoming call with your management office’s name across the screen had Lando’s eyes widening. Never had he spoken to your management before as all correspondence went through you. He glanced up at the black and white sonogram that was tacked to his bullet board over his desk as he answered the call and raised his phone to his ear, class forgotten.

“Hello?”

A strong male voice broke through the line, “Is this Lando Norris?”

He swallowed, “Yeah. Who’s asking?”

“This is Ennis from the Monaco Literary Talent Agency. Are you available to come to our office for a critical meeting this week?”

“Well…I actually have class. And I’m in England.” Lando tried to keep his voice steady and he sunk onto his desk chair, “What is this about?”

“You’re still romantically involved with our client and that has only created a huge problem for us and the PR team here at the office. We need everyone to convene as soon as possible to tackle the issue before it hits the press and smother this before it blows up in our faces. Since you are a part of this and ultimately causing lapses of judgement for our client and her responsibility that came with her signature on her contract, we’re going to need you to sit in on this meeting too or there will be legal repercussions.”

Lando’s face was pale, “When?”

“As soon as possible. Today. Your flight and accommodations will be paid for.”

“I have class. I can’t just-”

“We will get our lawyers involved if you don’t cooperate. Is that what you want us to do, Lando?”

He shook his head before realizing he had to answer out loud. “No. No, I can come. That’s fine.”

“Good. We will have a driver waiting for you. Gate 2. Please be prompt.”

“Okay.” Lando jumped in again before he could be hung up on, “Is she okay though? She hasn’t answered me. I’m worried if she’s okay.”

There was a beat of silence and then the manager answered him flatly, “It was not to her benefit to be in correspondence with you until this matter is settled. She is fine.”

The line went dead.

Lando slowly lowered his phone from his ear, his mouth dry, and he stared at the black and white sonogram in front of him for a moment. When he swore he was about to cry, he looked away again and got up from his desk chair to exchange his backpack for a suitcase. The threat of legal action against him was honestly not the biggest of his concerns as his heart ached with the concept of what they could be holding you with in that very moment. He only hoped that they were gentle on you; the last thing you needed was excess stress for both yourself and the baby.

When Lando boarded the bus to the airport, he had a private message waiting for him from Alex.

alex_albon: Hey Lan - have you heard from Lily recently?? She hasn’t answered me since yesterday landonorris: Yeah I was just about to message you. The group is in trouble with management and I got called to Monaco like NOW and was literally threatened with legal action if I didn’t go so 🙃 I’m on my way to airport now alex_albon: Wtf?? alex_albon: You’re joking landonorris: Nope. And idk what I’m walking in on either. Idk what information they have or what they know or why all of them aren’t allowed to talk to me or by extension, you landonorris: I’ll tell you more when I know more. I promise alex_albon: Please do alex_albon: And be safe and sane okay alex_albon: Text me or call me if you need anything landonorris: Fly to Monaco? Lol alex_albon: Omg I would if I could, mate alex_albon: I’m sending you strength. You got this!! landonorris: I love you so much dude alex_albon: Love you too!!

The entire flight to the Nice airport was near torture for Lando and especially so since you couldn’t answer him and he had virtually no clue what he was going to be walking into. The sunny Mediterranean welcomed him gladly - a cruel irony - and he walked through the airport with his suitcase and backpack unsure how long he would be staying. Just like when he first flew to Monaco to visit you at the beginning of the prior summer, a dark dressed man was waiting for him at the arrivals gate with a sign bearing his name on it.

Neither of them spoke a word as the driver loaded his bags in the car for him and Lando buckled up in the backseat, nervous to break the tense silence around the stony-faced man. The drive to the office was tense and Lando felt like his shirt was suffocating him, constantly tugging at the collar. He wondered if he should have changed before coming; he had panic packed after his phone call from your manager and thus didn’t even think about changing out of his school clothes of a grey t-shirt and jeans. He silently cursed himself for being so foolish and not thinking ahead. He couldn’t give your team one more reason to dislike him.

Your office building was all too familiar to him and Lando was let out on the curb with his suitcase and the driver drove off without any further instructions. On his own on the bustling street of downtown Monte Carlo, Lando peered up at the building and tried to calm his nerves by reminding himself that he was hopefully moments away from seeing you after so long. Better circumstances would have been preferred but he took what he got.

The floor of your office was eerily quiet for a weekday around early afternoon and the secretary glanced up at him from her desk when he stepped out of the elevator.

“Lando,” she greeted quietly, “They’re waiting for you in the conference room.”

He nodded at her politely in understanding, his mouth too dry to even think about forming words, and he walked around the partition into the main office space. Most of the desks were empty as if the team had been told to go home early for the day but a handful of employees were gathered at the far end and typing away together while whispering amongst themselves. Lando didn’t spare them more than a brief glance from across the office on his way past, even as they obviously stared at him. Your glass framed corner office was empty too and he passed by it to turn down the hallway that was lined with the meeting rooms, heading towards the large conference room at the opposite end of the floor.

The large cherry wood table housed a large number of people, half of whom Lando didn’t recognize, but your four best friends as well as Pierre and yourself were at one end together, looking like kids who had been caught with their hands in the candy jar. Frightened, ashamed, awaiting their punishment. The rest of the table was taken up by men in suits with a few well dressed women among them and Lando assumed it was your management team. He took a deep breath before pushing open the door to the crowded room, earning all eyes to look at him.

He hated being the centre of attention but to him, you were the only one in that room at that moment and your eyes shone at the sight of him. Even with Pierre at your side - a sight that would have normally sent Lando’s fight or flight instinct going in the past - Lando didn’t bat an eyelash at him and he made a beeline for you. You jumped up from your chair and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and his easily took to your waist to hold you close, smiling softly at the obvious bump of your stomach that blocked your hug between you just a little. You had grown so much; your baby had grown so much.

In reality, your hug was to only whisper to him quickly what had happened, your lips grazing against his ear as you hurried out in a barely audible voice, “They made me take a pregnancy test. They know. Took my phone and kept me on watch in fear that I’d leak something to you.”

One of the men cleared their throats and you pulled away from Lando sheepishly, dragging your hand down his chest with a small melancholy smile. Your first time seeing him in so long and it was under these pretenses. He looked so good and you craved to kiss him. You had to look away or you might have cried.

“Thank you for joining us, Lando.” one of the men said formally.

Lando left his suitcase by the wall before he took the empty seat on your other side at the opposite head of the table, wanting to say ‘not like you gave me a choice’ but he merely pulled a tight smile and nodded in acknowledgement. Your four best friends were lined up on one length of the table with their heads down in near shame, not knowing where to look but all of their downcast gases were drifting in your direction. Max’s flat stare had Lando shifting nervously in his seat even though he was sure he did nothing wrong.

The head of your management team, Ennis, who had called Lando just that morning, began the meeting, introducing the few individuals representing the management team including himself, the few from PR and the few from HR. The HR department’s presence had Lando shifting nervously in his chair as his father’s words echoed in the back of his head, how he didn’t understand that you truly did not take advantage of him as your intern.

“This meeting was called in order to discuss how we will be moving forward from now on. For context for those of you who do not know, our client by contract has been working from home recently, canceling in person meetings, and limiting her social media usage to a worrisome degree. As PR and our team is aware, it is written in her contract that consistent social media presence is a crucial asset to marketing and creating a connection with her audience and her readers. Her constant statement of feeling ill led us to conduct a pregnancy test yesterday which did come back positive.”

Said test was dropped onto the table by one of the other management members, the screen face up in the Ziplock bag and the two pink lines very clear and visible since you were already so far along. Lando’s eyes widened at how bluntly they put your personal life on blast in a packed conference room and he glanced over at you on his left to see your stone flat face staring dumbly at the tabletop, your hands folded tightly in your lap.

One of the PR team spoke up, “Is it public knowledge?”

Your manager answered, “Not yet but we have seen and heard some speculations through our undercover accounts on various social media sites. Not enough to hit the mainstream news yet which gives us limited time to think of a way to cover our asses on this.”

“Who is the father?”

Everyone turned to you and you almost shrunk down into your chair, Lando staring wide eyed around the room as everyone stared as if expecting you to answer for yourself. He shyly raised his hand a few centimeters off the table. Everyone turned back to the manager for guidance, eyebrows around the room left furrowed in near concern. Lando wasn’t sure how this was anyone else’s business but he was intimidated and just let himself listen.

Your manager continued, “After the issue that arose in October of last year, our team had a serious conversation with the client about ending this relationship as it not only goes against her PR contract but it also will cause a complete hindrance to her social image which we cannot risk. It is clear now that she knew she was pregnant at that time and did not disclose this information to us, nor did she listen to our guidance in insisting that she end any and all contact with Mr. Norris.”

The team nodded in understanding. Lando noticed Charles faintly shaking his head in disbelief out of the corner of his eye.

Your manager continued, “This is why we have asked HR to be present at this meeting as the public knowledge of our client’s romantic relationship with her intern runs the risk of affecting our company and this contract.”

You scoffed, “It didn’t start in the summer-”

He interrupted you, “And what if he sues you?”

Lando’s head snapped from you to the manager in shock.

You answered sternly, “He won’t.”

“He’s a middle class kid from Bristol who had a summer fling with his favourite author and now has the chance to make a big buck off of it. Who wouldn’t take that? Humans tear each other down to push themselves up, it’s natural.”

Lando was stunned to silence, his mouth dry and agape at the assumption.

Oscar spoke up next, with a short tone that Lando had only ever heard him use once back when he had pushed the paparazzi away from you during a dinner in the summer, “Don’t you dare speak to them like that.”

Everyone turned to him and your lineup of friends down one side of the table.

Your manager pointed a warning finger at him, “You’re not in a position to be making threats that could have you fired, young man.”

Oscar’s eyes narrowed, “Go ahead. I don’t work for you; I work for her.”

“Osc.” you spoke softly, as if telling him it wasn’t worth it.

“They’re our friends.” Charles spoke up, gesturing to you and Lando, “And you know nothing about them.”

Oscar added, “And you certainly know nothing about Lando because you haven’t bothered trying to.”

“Gentlemen,” your manager spoke sternly, “That’s enough or I will ask you to leave this office immediately.”

Max’s arm went protectively around the back of Charles’s chair, his ever-observing eyes staring down his nose at the man in charge. Lando, with his heart racing, looked back to the group of higher ups, waiting for what was going to come next out of this tense conversation.

Trying to explain himself calmly, your manager re-worded his argument as he directed towards you, “It looks bad to have you appearing as if you were cheating on a man of such high standing with a fan…your intern of all people. That opens a whole other can of legal worms that the public could rise up with. It would ruin your reputation.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment at the offside comment in comparison to Pierre. Ever since Lando had first followed you months and near years ago, he had always silently compared himself to Pierre - your boyfriend, who he soon came to learn was all a PR stunt - but it was a hard pill to swallow. The entire world only knew Pierre as your other half. To the world, Lando was the sidepiece. It just wasn’t true but what was to be done about it? Clearly even your team wasn’t on his side…the stupid little fanboy from England. How could he ever compare to the handsome brunette French actor that was the shining star of your Instagram feed?

“We want to be proactive here.” your manager continued. “We want to anticipate how the public is going to react to the news of this pregnancy because it will get out at one point or another.”

Another one of the team members spoke up, “We should push the idea that she and Pierre are together. Use this as a way to solidify their relationship.”

Your manager thought for a moment before he actually smiled and agreed with ease, “Yes. We can prepare a post announcing the pregnancy and pass this kid off as Pierre’s. Rehash the idea that our client is in a stable and normal relationship and there is nothing shady that is going on behind the scenes.”

Pierre and Lando made eye contact from over you before both looking away just as quickly. Lando could feel his heart in his throat, like he was going to throw it up on the table. Your small sniffle from beside him didn’t help the protective anger that was thudding in his chest and bubbling up like bile in his stomach. How dare they make your decisions for you.

Your little group watched the discussion between the higher ups like a tennis match across the table, Lando’s chest burning hotter and clenching tighter with his fists in his lap the longer he heard it.

“We’ll have them all sign an NDA, sweep this under the rug and put it behind us.”

“She should address the pictures from October and offer a public apology.”

“She was pregnant and seduced by this fan and she felt badly for him.”

Lando looked over at you and the way your eyes shimmered with tears as you stared at the edge of the table with a trembling pout. One wrong word and you were going to burst into tears. Lando frowned deeper and turned back to the discussion going on around him, ignorant to the way your friends stared at him, waiting for the red of his cheeks to blow into a silence of the bullshit that filled the airtime. This wasn’t their fight to have.

“It makes sense for it to be Pierre’s kid…they’ve been together so long.”

“The public loves them together too. A baby would only enhance their audiences. We’ll probably trend!”

“We could set up a gender reveal. Livestream it even!”

“Pierre would make the perfect father figure too. He’s got the look.”

Lando stood up so fast that his chair rolled away from behind him and he cut into the conversation that didn’t include him but was all about him, shouting across the lengthy wood table to the broad man at the other end, “Shut up! You think you can just dictate what we do with our lives? You have no say over me and no grounds to sue me if I decline to your insane ideas. This is my child you’re discussing!”

His voice was wavering with emotion and you could see the way his body trembled from where he stood beside you. But he was seeing red and there was nothing he ever hated more than someone hurting you. From hate comments on your posts to invasive interview questions to now this? Lando couldn’t take it.

He was yelling now, ignorant to any scene he was making in your workplace, “This is my baby! You have no right to replace me with some fake boyfriend who has no connection to this child and nothing to do with this pregnancy! How long are you planning on carrying this lie? Huh? Because it’s going to be pretty damn hard when I’m the one with her constantly…the one taking her to the doctors appointments and the hospital and signing my fucking name on the birth certificate!”

Your manager cut in smoothly, “Oh, you’re not going to be.”

Lando literally laughed humorlessly, “Like hell I won’t be! That is my baby, and my girlfriend, and I would give up my life for them in a heartbeat. I will not sit by and let you ruin my family because you’re scared of what a few stupid strangers on the internet would say about it. Grow up! You’re grown-ass adults! If we don’t give a shit about what people have to say about us, then why do you? You are not a part of this! I’m sick and tired of walking on eggshells in fear of you! Stop ruining everyone else’s lives because you’re too miserable with your own!”

“It’s deeper than that, Lando.” your manager told him slowly, “You don’t understand because you’re not part of-”

“No!” Lando slammed his fist against the table to cut him off angrily, “I’m sick and tired of people just seeing me as this kid who doesn’t know a thing about life. You’re talking over me like I don’t have a voice of my own. You don’t know a thing about me! You don’t know who I am or what I do and you especially don’t seem to know that I love your client more than anyone else in the world. Fuck that ‘my client’ shit too, by the way. She has a name. She’s a human being who has feelings and opinions and ideas and really fucking good ideas too and I love her! She’s not your stupid doll to puppet around like this is a big game! I won’t let you! I’m sick of this and I’m sick of seeing how your rules affect her and make her miserable! I love her more than life itself and I refuse to sit here and let you ruin the life that we are building together. She is incredible and she deserves more than you pathetic money-hungry idiots. She deserves to have a real life and a real family and she deserves to be loved…like really loved.”

Lando faded out as his adrenaline dwindled and he suddenly clued in that he was standing in the middle of the conference room screaming at an entire board of managers and relation teams from the depth of his heart. He swallowed back the anxious gag in his throat and then tore his wide eyes away from the shocked men to look down at you sitting beside him. You were staring up at him in near awe with tears free falling down your cheeks and his gaze shifted just past you to Pierre who looked just as impressed as he was shocked.

“And Pierre.” Lando found himself saying, much quieter now although his voice was still wavering, “Pierre deserves to find real love too. None of this fake crap with a kid that isn’t is. He needs to find a girl of his own to have a real kid with when he’s ready like he’s supposed to.”

The young men shared little smiles and appreciative half nods.

Then Lando was bending down to you and wiping your tears from your cheek with his thumb, whispering against your temple softly, “Come on. We’re going.”

“We can’t.” you sniffled.

“I don’t care. We’re going.” he said a little louder, his voice serious but his words gentle.

You simply nodded and took his hand to let him guide you to your feet and you wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. Your friends started to get up too.

“No, no.” your manager warned. “You leave when I tell you that you can leave.”

Max finally spoke, his tone deadly serious and stern, “We’ll be back when you choose to have empathy and are willing to hear her own needs.”

Lando led the little group of you out of the conference room door, holding you under one arm and his suitcase being rolled by his other hand and he didn’t look back as he steered you down the hallway, your friends following quickly behind you.

Once you were all a few paces away, your friends shared excited little whispers amongst themselves in disbelief that you all just staged a little walkout but Lando was only focused on you and how you shivered under his arm. He leaned his head in to be right in your space with his fingers scratching tenderly against your shoulder and you looked back at him in your close proximity and leaned your forehead against his.

“It’s going to be okay.” he promised quietly as Lily pressed the call button for the elevator under the intense stare of the secretary a few paces away.

You nodded, closing your eyes to only focus on the way he held you under his arm.

“I love you so much.” he whispered. “I’m not letting them do anything to you or our baby.”

“I love you.” you sighed shakily and slid your arms around his middle to pull him into an embrace.

He kissed your head and let his other arm join his first around your shoulders, running his fingers through your hair soothingly before caressing your back in gentle rubs. When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, you pulled away from each other and he guided you into the elevator first. You sniffled and wiped your nose with the sleeve of your hoodie as you stepped inside and your friends followed you. You were surprised no one had chased you out to drag you back to the meeting room by your hair.

Charles pressed the button for the parking garage and your friends let you and Lando have your quiet moment in the corner of the elevator the whole way down. He barely let you stray farther than a few inches away and he kept you under his arm protectively as you shivered with anxiety and stress, your teeth chattering. But you held onto the front of his shirt in a tight fist as if scared he was going to be taken away from you again and your gently closed eyelids had your lashes fluttering against your teary cheeks.

Lando’s lips brushed against your ear as he whispered reassuring words to you, “Take some deep breaths for me, sweetheart. We don’t want to give our baby any extra stress right now and it’s not good for you either.”

You nodded weakly.

He kissed your cheek and then habitually breathed with you as you took in a slow deep breath through your nose, both of you needing it.

Moments later, the elevator doors slid open to reveal the parking garage lobby and Lando spoke to you quietly, “Let’s get you home.”

Max’s SUV was parked within the rows of cars and the shiny black exterior stood out from the others. When he unlocked it with a chirp, Lando’s eyes would have normally gone wide at the impressive expensive car you were all about to climb into but his attention and his lingering adrenaline was focused all on you. No one bothered to offer you the front seat since it was clear you weren’t going to let go of Lando even if someone paid you and so Oscar opened the back door for you and Lando helped you climb in. Max loaded Lando’s suitcase into the trunk and he and Charles took to the front seat themselves while Lily and Oscar wiggled into the third row, leaving you and Lando to have your room in the second row.

In the safety and familiarity of Max’s leather seats and Lando’s arms, you were starting to calm down and by the time the SUV drove out into the Monaco sun, your anxiety induced shivering had stopped. Lando’s arm was still around your shoulders and his other hand held your two on his lap, welcoming the way you so easily curled into his side even when you were both buckled in your seatbelts. The drive was quiet as no one really knew what to say and you were honestly thankful for that.

Staring down at your intertwined hands, you gently traced the lines of Lando’s fingers with your head resting against his comfortably. He moved to kiss your temple before resting his head back down against yours, rubbing his thumb over yours for a few strokes.

“I missed you so much.” you sniffled.

“I missed you like crazy.” Lando gave your hand a squeeze.

You leaned your head back slightly against his shoulder so you could look at his face and he gladly met your teary gaze. His eyes drifted to your lips, watching how you formed your quiet sentence, “That was incredible what you did in there.”

He shrugged modestly, whispering back to you, “I’ll always protect you.”

“I love you.” you breathed.

“I’m in love with you.” he countered.

You broke into a slight smile to correct yourself quietly, for only him to hear, “I’m in love with you, Lando Norris.”

He tightened his arm around your shoulder to guide you in for a soft, long awaited kiss. You both lingered there for a moment, smiling faintly into your chasté kiss in your getaway car together, and when you pulled away, you cuddled back into his side with your arm around his middle. Amidst everything, you were just excited to be able to take him home.

When Max pulled into the parking garage of your apartment, you thanked him for the drive and then said your goodbyes to your friends as the two young men got out to retrieve Lando’s suitcase. Your friends had you promise to keep them up to date with everything and they swore they had your back no matter what…but you needed to take that night and turn off your phone and just be with Lando for a little while. You had no objections to that idea.

Lando was waiting with Max on the pavement with his bag when you stepped out of the car and Max moved right in to give you a one armed hug. He spoke to you seriously when he pulled away, “If they call you, don’t answer. Tell me and I will deal with them.”

You nodded and promised and you said your goodbyes. Lando took your hand and led you up to your door.

“Sorry it’s a mess.” you whispered as you unlocked it and stepped inside.

Lando glanced at the dishes in the kitchen sink and the papers scattered over the dining room table and the few stray worn socks that littered your living room floor but he merely shrugged, dusting his fingers over the small of your back as he followed you farther into your house, “It’s okay. I’m not worried about the mess. Just you. Are you feeling a little calmer, my love?”

You set your purse on the kitchen island as you turned to him with a small smile, “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

“Of course.” Lando set his hands on your waist, “What did you want to do now? Do you want to nap? I know you said you haven’t been getting much sleep.”

“I wanna kiss you.” you said, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt.

Lando just licked away his smile and leaned in towards you to meet you halfway in a proper kiss, one that you had been waiting for since October and in full privacy of your own home, it felt so easy again. You hummed softly in pleasant appreciation and your hands raised to the sides of his neck to hold his kiss for a little longer. Lando’s head spun with his adoration for you and he parted your lips with his own and tilted his head slightly to deepen your kiss, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you closer until the bump of your belly pressed against his stomach.

He laughed lightly into your kiss and went to pull away but you grabbed him by the back of his neck and yanked him back in for more kisses. His hands caressed your back lovingly and he spoke softly between your purposeful kisses, “Baby, I missed you so much if you keep this up I’m gonna get hard-”

“Good.” you answered easily, moving away from his lips for a second so you could speak right to him, “I’ve been so fucking horny recently…and all I want right now is for you to just fuck the thoughts from my head.”

“Fuck.” Lando chuckled breathily at your blunt demand and as your lips went for his neck, he tilted his head back to give you room, speaking to the ceiling, “Okay, but let me take you to your room first.”

His hands fell into yours and soon you were following after him down the hallway to your bedroom; a place he knew well after your summer together. It had been so long since you last saw each other that you were almost bursting with excitement; no help from the second trimester that had your libido through the roof. Your plentiful FaceTime calls and risqué text messages were not sufficing and you would have given anything to feel his hands on your body properly. Now, as if a dream, he was there with you in your bedroom and pulling your sweater off purposefully.

You held him by the side of his neck and kissed the air from his lungs, wanting him impossibly closer as the curve of your growing stomach prevented him from touching you completely. His hands caressed your full hips that had only grown with pregnancy and then over the swell over your stomach that housed his baby. You had often sent him selfies and pictures over the weeks so he could track your growth from a distance but seeing it in person was so much better.

With a soft hum of appreciation, Lando pulled away from your lips to let his gaze fall to your taut skin under his hands. The stretch marks wriggled across your abdomen and hips and his fingers traced them delicately as he took in the sight of you before him like you were nothing less than ethereal. You held onto his biceps, letting him stare at you, and he gently guided you backwards towards your bed to sit you down on the side. Then he was sinking to his knees in front of you and pulling your sweatpants down your legs right along with your underwear to discard them to the floor and leave you in only your bra in front of him. His eyes darted over your body like he wasn’t sure where he wanted to look first and he finally settled on the roundness of your stomach, leaning in to press a soft kiss right there.

“My God, you’re even more beautiful in person.” he whispered faintly, his warm breath fanning across your skin. He guided your legs apart and kissed down the curve of your belly until settling between your legs with a tender kiss to your cunt.

“It’s not…tidy…down there.” you mumbled, resting back on your hands against the bed.

“Don’t care.” Lando answered easily before gliding his tongue between your lips. He missed how you tasted - so perfectly sweet and addicting - and he greedily went in for more.

You stared down at him and how the small bump of your abdomen hid him slightly from your view so all you were blessed with was the sight of his unruly brown hair between your legs. The feeling of his lips and tongue blessing your pussy with the sweetest kisses and licks had your nose scrunching up in pleasure and your eyes fluttering closed to bask in the sensations you had waited too long for.

His hands took to your thighs and guided your legs up so you could rest your heels on the edge of the bed and leave yourself spread open for his eager mouth. His thumbs rubbed warmly over the flesh of your thighs as he made out sloppily with your cunt and let his nose ghost over your aching clit, tending to you so lovingly after so long that you swore tears were pricking the corners of your eyes. Your hormones were going awol.

“Oh, God, Lando, I love you.” you whimpered to the ceiling.

He pulled away just long enough to reply, “I love you too.”

Lando could never get enough of the way you whimpered and moaned under his touch; it was truly better than how it sounded in his imagination all those months ago. It was hard to believe that not even a year before he was still sitting alone in his dorm room with only the company of your published words and your social media. Now he was eating you out on your bed in your apartment in Monaco while you were pregnant with his child. Life was surreal.

There was nothing else either of you could do but focus on the good to push away the bad for the time being.

“Mm, baby,” you reached a hand down to raked through his hair, “can we switch?”

Lando pulled away from your pussy with a soft slurp and a little glossy pout, “Already?”

“Yeah…I really wanna suck your dick.” you pleaded.

He would never decline that - especially after months of going without any sort of touch from you - and so he stood up without question and started to unbuckle his jeans. You dropped your legs back down over the side of the bed and reached to help him, licking your lips impatiently as you unzipped his pants and started to pull them down. Lando tugged his shirt off in the meantime and soon you were both perfectly bare in front of each other.

His fingers danced through your hair lovingly as you wrapped a hand around his hard cock and let a little dribble of spit fall from your lips onto the head of it. You leaned down slightly to wrap your mouth around it and his hand followed you gently as you sucked softly on the smooth tip. Lando’s wavering little exhale had your heart skipping a beat and you sunk your mouth down lower, starting to suck him off in lazy little bobs of your head.

But you soon pulled off him quickly and rested your free hand against his faint abs to get him to back up a little, giving yourself room to slip carefully off the side of the bed and onto your knees in front of him. Lando’s wide eyes stared down at you and his expression fluttered as you sank your mouth down around his cock again, taking him nice and deep in your warm wet mouth.

“Oh my God, baby.” he whispered shakily, taking your hair back into a ponytail in his gentle hands, “You’re such a good girl.”

Your gentle hand gave him soft strokes in time with your mouth for a few seconds before your mouth was pulling away to let your hand do the work, confessing up to him easily from your knees, “The way you stood up for me in there…and our baby…was so fucking hot.”

You kissed the tip of his dick.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

Another kiss to the tender spot right under the head. It made his thighs flinch slightly.

“Fuck, I missed you so bad.” you rushed out before guiding his dick back into your mouth.

Lando’s head dropped to the side with a tight groan from his throat, his eyes struggling to stay open with how perfect your mouth felt - no comparison to his hand from the last few months. He promised you in reply, “I missed you more.”

You moaned around his cock and kept your motions going until you were gagging yourself on it and smothering yourself deeper until you could take your hand away. Lando’s eyelids fluttered through a deep groan as he hit the back of your throat and you set your hands on his ass to pull him right in until your nose touched his pelvis. The feeling of your throat constricting around him had his hands tightening in your hair and when you gagged loudly around him, you had to pull back. Strings of spit connected your lips to the tip of his dick and Lando watched in near awe as you wrapped your hand around him again and quickly started stroking him off again, even slick in your spit that dribbled down your chin.

“God, I’m so horny.” you exhaled, staring lustfully at his cock in your face. Your other hand helped itself between your legs to ease some of the ache that was growing, rubbing your clit in lazy circles as you let your tongue swirl around the head of Lando’s dick with your hand taking the lead of the motions. You whispered against it in near disbelief, “I can’t believe our baby came from this. You and this perfect dick of yours got me pregnant.”

Lando laughed faintly, “Don’t say that or I’ll cum.”

You giggled sweetly at him and wrapped your lips around the tip for a little suckle before pulling back again, “You have such a breeding kink.”

“So what?”

“So it’s kinda hot.” you answered, “And you’re already standing up for our little family. You’re gonna be such a good daddy.”

“Sweetheart,” Lando sighed, “Seriously.”

“I know, I know,” you bit back your smile as your hand kept pumping his thick cock, “I could feel you throbbing when I said that.”

He hummed pleasantly and you flicked your tongue over the underside of his dick, staring up at him sweetly to watch how his expression changed with pleasure. Your hand moved a bit faster and your lips wrapped around the head with your tongue teasing the slit, pulling the sweetest moan from his chest that had your cunt pulsing.

“Fuck,” you pulled away from him again, “I need you inside me so fucking bad right now.”

“Okay,” Lando answered without missing a beat, “Get on the bed.”

You stood up in front of him with help from his hand for a bit of balance and you pulled him in by the back of his neck for a few sloppy kisses through your shared smiles before you were sitting on the side of the bed and scooting farther onto it. Lando crawled after you, and when you met in the middle of your familiar king size bed, he felt at home. Your lips met once more, sharing tongue-led kisses that had you reaching for his shoulders to keep him close - enamoured by him and his angelic kisses.

Lando broke away from your kiss to ask softly, “How are you most comfortable to do this?”

“I’m not allowed to be on my back.” you told him.

“I know.” he piped up easily, having consistently been following week by week pregnancy articles online throughout the process.

You kissed his lips once more before answering his question properly, “Maybe I’ll start on top?”

“Sure.”

You moved together to situate yourselves on your neatly made bed and Lando lounged back against the pillows and the headboard, helping to guide your leg to straddle his body. He licked his lips as he had that perfect view of you right in front of him and the growing curve of your belly called to his possessive hands.

“You’re so sexy.” he breathed. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Glad you still think so.” you chuckled lightly.

“Always.” Lando replied, caressing your full hips with his warm hands as you lifted up onto your knees.

He helped to angle his dick for you and you shuffled closer upwards so it could press right up against your leaking pussy. You were so wet that he let out a shaky breath at only the first teasing touch, desperate to sink into you after so long. He had gone twenty-one years without any touch from a woman and maybe in some way life was holding him out for you - you were his first and to be his only. Having to return to abstinence for a few months while you struggled with your management was nearly torture for the both of you but especially for Lando.

“Ready, boyfriend?” you asked, a sweet reminder that this was only your second time as officially dating - and only your first time that would actually (hopefully) see a satisfied conclusion for the both of you.

“Ready, beautiful girlfriend.” he nodded, trying to hide his grin.

“Compared to your ugly girlfriend you keep on the side?” you teased.

“Shush, there’s no one but you and you know it.” Lando tisked lightly, impatiently sliding the head of his cock between your glistening lips.

You grabbed his wrist, “Keep him still.”

“Gimme it, baby.” he exhaled. “I need you so bad.”

You held his wrist snugly as you slowly sank down on him, letting the head of his cock slip inside you snugly and your nose scrunched up at the stretch after so long. Lando’s free hand rubbed your thigh comfortingly as you whimpered slightly at the ache across your pelvis muscles that had been working to house your growing baby for the prior weeks.

“Good girl.” he praised softly, trying to hide the wavering of his voice that was caused by how good you felt around him, so tight and warm that he swore he was getting dizzy, “Nice and slow, sweetheart.”

“You’re so fucking big, it kinda hurts.” you pulled a strained little smile up at him.

“You’re not new to it.” he laughed lightly.

“Mm, no.” you agreed proudly, “This dick is all mine.”

Lando groaned at your words and the warmth of your pussy that sank down on more of him and he merely offered you a “mhm” in acknowledgement.

You set both your hands on his chest as you got lower and Lando held onto your hips, staring down his body to watch how his dick disappeared inside you slowly. He licked his lips and spread his legs a little wider, his eyebrows raising slightly as he watched you bottom out in near awe, filling him entirely inside your perfect body.

“Oh, fuck, I missed this.” you sniffled, dropping your head back to try and keep your hormones at bay.

“Me too. You feel so fucking good, baby.” Lando breathed.

“I missed you so fucking much.” you whimpered.

“I’m right here.” Lando promised, “Not going anywhere, sweetheart…I’m right here.”

You started to grind down on him in little back and forth motions to feel him tucked up so deeply inside you and your eyes closed peacefully to just bask in it for a second. His hands slid up the silhouette of your body and traced the lace of your bra and you allowed him to take it off you. Over the previous months he had seen your growing breasts through FaceTime chats but in person was just so much better. He dropped your bra to the ground in exchange for his hands to gently grope them with full palms as you rode him lazily with those purposeful grinds, his fingers on your sensitive nipples earning sweet moans from your mouth.

With your hands anchored strongly on his chest, you started to raise yourself up on your knees in more vertical strokes, earning a tight inhale from him as the snug squeeze of your cunt pulled along the length of his cock and back down. You were both sharing heavy breaths and peaceful moans, taking the afternoon slowly and savouringly, basking in the pleasure that you had long missed together.

“You’re so gorgeous.” Lando breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from your maternal body sitting on his lap. You were the epitome of a dream come true for him.

You smiled down at him as you bounced faintly on his cock and let his hands knead your swollen breasts. All that mattered in that moment was him.

To Lando, all that mattered was you as he asked you sweetly, “Does this feel good for you, my love?”

“Yeah. Feels really fucking good.” you chuckled breathily. “You?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing.” he nodded, “View is pretty good too.”

You let out a soft chuckle and shifted your hands from his chest to rest on the bed between his spread legs behind you, giving you a new angle, and his hands were taken from your chest to slide down to rest tenderly on your swollen belly. Lando stared at you as you started to bounce on him shallowly again, your limited movement making it look more like slight flicks of your hips in that consistent rhythm but the spring of the mattress helped you greatly.

As your eyes closed, your mouth fell open with a trembling moan, “Oh fuck, that’s it.”

“Good girl.” Lando whispered, keeping his eyes on you.

He licked his lips as he stared at your legs spread on either side of his body and the sight of your body not straying far from his before falling back down with a faint clap of skin over and over again. Your whimpers and moans were heaven to him and he let you set the pace however you needed, simply caressing the tight skin over your abdomen and the fleshy dough of your hips.

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly and your lips fell into a soft pout despite the pitchy moan that filled your bedroom as you rode him consistently with his dick nudging your g-spot straight on. It grew the pleasure inside you tightly but it came on fast and it felt incredibly overwhelming, especially after so long apart, that it made your face scrunch up in what could pass as agony.

“Oh God.” you whimpered, your voice quivering as if you were near tears, “Oh, I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s it, beautiful, cum for me.” Lando encouraged angelically,

“Oh, fuck, Lando-” you choked out.

Your breath caught in your throat and he watched in awe as your head dropped backwards and you gaped up to the ceiling with screwed tight eyes just as your pussy clenched down hard around him and you kept bouncing on his lap right through it. You squealed pitchily as your hands fisted the sheets behind you and your nose scrunched up in the cutest way he had ever seen.

“Shit,” Lando hissed, pressing his fingers into the flesh of your thighs, “that’s my good fucking girl.”

“Fuck.” you heaved for breath and fluttered your eyes open as you lifted your heavy head to look back at him, “Didn’t know I was gonna cum that fast…I’m fucking sensitive.”

Lando smiled adoringly up at you as you straightened up on top of him again and set your palms flat on his chest once more. You took a deep breath and let it out with a refreshing sigh, swirling your hips ever so slowly on his lap to bask in the bliss of it all.

“Yeah, just take a second to catch your breath.” Lando rubbed his warm hands over your flushed skin. “My good girl.”

You smiled adoringly to the air between you and your gaze found his fondly before you slowly lifted yourself up and then back down the length of his dick, pulling a tight moan from his chest. You breathed deeply for him as you moved slowly, riding out the ends of your toe-curling orgasm that you had waited near months for, just wanting to savour the feeling of his perfect cock buried deeply inside you.

Soon, you were shifting on top of him and situating your feet underneath you so you were squatting over his lap and Lando rubbed his hands over your thighs, whispering in cautious concern, “Oh, that’s going to be hard on your knees, baby.”

“That’s okay.” you whispered. “I want to be good for you.”

“You are always good for me, my love. Here, can we switch? I just wanna take care of you.”

When you nodded, he leaned up on his elbows to kiss your lips and then you were carefully sliding off his lap, wincing faintly at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you and leaving you empty. Lando moved quickly so you weren’t left lost for long and he situated himself behind you on his knees, leaving you only needing to rest forward on your hands from the position you were already in. He licked his fingers and slid them between your legs, smearing your slick pussy wetter as much as he wanted as he tended to your swollen cunt with warm caresses, mouthing a silent ‘fuck’ to the air at how the mere feeling of you had his cock throbbing.

“Spread your legs a little wider, sweetheart.” Lando instructed gently, helping you to shuffle your knees a bit farther apart and he kept his at a close angle just behind you, allowing his hips to be perfectly level with yours. He rubbed your hips, “This comfortable for you?”

“Yeah, it’s good.” you flipped your hair over one shoulder so you could try and look back at him.

Lando gladly kept your eye contact as he carefully guided his thick cock into you again, his mouth falling open slightly at the snug fit of your body nearly pulling him in. He had to break your lustful stares to watch himself bottom out inside you until his hips were pressed snugly against the flesh of your ass. When you wiggled back onto him a little, you could feel the faint hair that dotted his pelvis brush against your soft skin. You hummed contently and started to rock forwards and backwards to fuck yourself on him impatiently.

“Hey, hey,” Lando tisked and took hold on your hips, “that’s my job.”

You giggled sweetly and bit your smiling lip as you stared back at him over your shoulder and he started to fuck you lazily. A soft hum of appreciation fell from your mouth and your eyes fluttered shut.

“There we go.” Lando breathed.

Going nice and slowly after the build up of months apart was only half ideal because part of him just wanted to fuck the shit out of you, but the addition of your little life growing inside you, he also wanted to be extra careful. Savouring it all was just as good, making sweet love to you had always been his favourite dream after all.

You whispered your polite demand to the room, “Faster, please.”

Lando caressed your hips and started to thrust into you a little faster until he had a good gentle speed going.

Humming in appreciation, you spoke again, “Yeah, this speed but harder.”

Slightly hesitant, Lando only gave you a little bit more intensity just until your skin started to make that lewd little clapping sound together.

“Mm, more. Fuck me harder.” you huffed.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” Lando protested.

“I’m not a fucking flower, baby, I won’t break.” you retorted, “Beat it up, come on. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

Lando took your word for it and let his instincts take over as he shoved into you with sharper precision at that same ideal speed you had him keep. Your deep groan only solidified that it was perfectly okay and he slid his hands up your back to grasp your shoulders as he gently held you back into his every thrust, the bed creaking underneath you in time with him.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s so good.” you moaned, fisting the bed sheets under your straight arms. “Oh my God.”

“That’s my pretty girl.” Lando exhaled, staring down at how your ass jiggled with every hard thrust, “Fuck, you feel incredible.”

He fucked the whimpers from your throat in steady time, gradually getting louder and louder as your eyes screwed shut. Lando slid his hands down your back and grabbed your doughy hips again, tugging you back harshly into every thrust as he hit as deep as he could with any possible hesitation vanished from his mind with how you reacted to him. You cried out with pure raw pleasure, your voice wavering with tears from how good it felt, and he spanked your ass out of habit.

“Yeah, spank me.” you pleaded, earning another hard smack to your ass and then another.

“Dirty girl.” Lando chuckled lowly, his words laced with breathlessness as he pounded into you at that addicting pace.

“Mm, mm, mm, mm-” your head dropped down and in seconds you were flying a hand out to slam against the headboard, squealing loudly, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum again!”

“Good girl. That’s my good girl.” Lando praised lowly, propping one foot flat against the mattress for a better angle as he flawlessly kept that addicting pace, only making the slap of your skin louder in time with the creaking of the bed, “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God-” you choked out, tightening your white-knuckled grip on the sheets until you were untucking them from the sides of the mattress. “Lando!”

“That’s it…cum for me. Cum on my cock.” his jaw clenched at the first feeling of you gripping around him again, “Yes, that’s it, beautiful, make me cum.”

You shuddered when you came and Lando’s hands tended to your hips warmly as he fucked you through your second orgasm, holding you up as your body desperately tried to slide down onto the mattress and away from the overwhelming pleasure. But he kept going, pounding into you roughly as you mewled and moaned for him until tears blurred your eyes.

“Oh my God, baby!” you sobbed out.

“I’m close-” Lando panted, his voice breaking slightly as he repeated, “I’m close-”

Despite the way your body trembled from overwhelm, you looked back at him over your shoulder and offered him the sweetest begging that you knew would do just the trick, “Cum inside me. Please, please, please cum inside me, Lan, I missed you so much.”

“Fuck,” Lando groaned, “That’s it.”

“Please fill me up.” You squeezed down on him, “Oh, God, I need it so bad.”

“Cumming-” Lando warned quickly before he, too, was tensing right up with the harsh wave of pleasure that hit him. His handsome face screwed up tightly, his mouth falling open in near awe, and he let out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard him make when you felt that first thick spurt release deep inside you.

“Fuck yeah.” you sighed pleasantly and ground your ass back against him as his thrusts slowed into lazy nudges.

“Ohhh, God.” Lando withered, slumping forward slightly until his hand caught his weight against the mattress. “Shit.”

“I could feel it pulsing inside me.” you giggled.

“Yeah,” Lando sniffled dryly, dropping his leg back down so he was kneeling properly, “I came so fucking hard.”

You slowly sat back on your knees and Lando moved with you to help you shift so your back was right up against his front and his hands slid around your hips and over your belly as you leaned your head back against his shoulder and pulled his lips onto yours. The two of you shared sloppy breathless kisses until your relieved and pleasured smiles got in the way and you had to break away from each other. Lando kissed your temple.

Your hands dragged over his forearms as he embraced you lovingly and fell to a stop over his hands that cradled your baby bump. You stayed there together for a moment, still intertwined as one and letting the highs of your orgasms wash into a glowing bliss all through you. Lando’s thumbs rubbed faintly over your skin and he kissed your neck before sighing contentedly into that same spot.

“I love you so much.” he whispered like a promise.

“I love you so much more.” you responded, lifting your head up to invite him for a kiss to your lips.

Then he was cautiously helping you shift away from him and both of you shared a little wince as his sensitive dick slipped out of you and left you empty once again. You carefully turned around and slumped backwards against your pillow with a content but tired sigh, draping one arm over your head with your other habitually gravitating to the curve of your abdomen. Lando joined you at your side and you naturally turned away from him so he could cuddle up behind you, fitting your blushing bodies together like two perfect puzzle pieces meant to be.

Lando hid his grinning smile into your hair and breathed in the scent of your floral shampoo as he slid his arm under your neck and his other draped around your middle to join your hand on your belly.

“Twenty-two weeks tomorrow.” you stated softly.

“Mhm.” Lando smiled against your shoulder, caressing your little growing life with his thumb, “Baby is the size of a papaya this week.”

You giggled, “Have you ever seen a papaya in real life?”

“No, but I’m sure they aren’t as beautiful as our baby.”

“I don’t think a baby and a fruit are accurately comparable.”

Lando kissed along your shoulder, “Sure they are. And our baby wins every time.”

“Of course.”

You leaned back slightly to pucker out your lips and he dipped in for a sweet kiss or two.

He kissed your neck when you turned away from him again and his hand rubbed warmly over your belly. Your fingers wiggled their way under his to get him to hold your hand and then you brought your joint hands up to your lips to kiss his knuckles before returning them back to your baby.

Lando confessed to you quietly as you had your moment’s peace, “You look so beautiful…more than ever.”

“Thank the pregnancy for that.” you replied.

“Oh, I do.” he assured you, “I always knew you would be fucking gorgeous pregnant with my baby and look…I was right!”

You laughed lightly and he nuzzled a kiss into your neck. Then he continued gently with his little confession, “And when I came into that room today and got my first real look at you after what felt like forever…you took my breath away all over again. Just like you did when I first met you on that book tour last year in Bristol. And when you hugged me and I could feel our baby against me for the first time? It was so incredible.”

There was a pause and you didn’t answer, letting the airtime be taken up by your fingers dancing lazily with his. Lando gave your hand a squeeze as if making sure you were still awake.

You finally replied, but not like how he had anticipated, “I’m sorry about today.”

He tisked, “You have nothing to be sorry about. None of this is your fault.”

Bubbling up with hormones and emotions that you had suppressed for a while, your voice broke as you shared a confession of your own, “I just wanted to write books.”

Lando’s heart nearly shattered at the simple yet weighty presence of your words and he held you a little tighter, “Oh, my darling, I know.”

A sob fell from your lips and you raised your joint hands up again to hide your face in embarrassment, “I didn’t want all of this shit with it.”

“I know.” Lando sighed, “You don’t deserve this. Not at all. I wish I could just make it all go away for you.”

“And now you’re dragging into this and I’m ruining your life.”

“Hey.” Lando propped himself up on his arm so he could look at you properly. You hid your face in your hands but he pulled them away, speaking to you sternly but sweetly, “You have done nothing but make my life better. I have told you before and I will tell you again that you are my biggest dream come true. There has never been one second since meeting you that I ever thought that my life was worse off because of you…and especially from things that are not your fault.”

“Please don’t ever leave me.”

Lando swallowed back his own tears and he leaned down to kiss your tear streaked cheek, holding onto you like he was never going to let you, “I will never leave you. I would never dream of it. I’d never find another you.”

You wiped your tears with the heel of your palm and Lando sighed pitifully at the way you trembled in his arms. He kissed your shoulder and caressed the soft skin of your growing belly and tried to make you feel every ounce of his love in his heart that he wasn’t quite sure how to express out loud.

“I hate the way they treat you.” he whispered, dusting another kiss to your shoulder, “No one should be making you feel this low.”

You sniffled and leaned your head back slightly to look him in the eye, “And you stood up for me.”

“Of course.” Lando kissed your lips once. “No one hurts my girl or tries to break up my family.”

You reached up to slide your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into another lingering kiss. When you parted, he sighed softly against your cheek and you closed your eyes with an exhale of your own to just feel the warmth of his body against your own.

“I love you.” you mumbled.

“I love you so much.” Lando kissed your cheek again.

You let your eyes find his in your close proximity, dancing your fingers through the back of his hair as you confessed to him in a whisper, “They all told me - even Max at one point or another - not to get involved with fans because it can be risky and messy…but honestly it was the best decision of my life. I thought you were cute from the second I saw you but something about you just made me want to trust you and give you a chance and…I can’t even remember what life was like before you and it hasn’t even been a year yet.”

Lando smiled fondly at you, “Crazy, huh? Hasn’t even been a year since we met.”

“Feels like forever though.” you added.

“In the best way.”

“Mhm.”

You shared another kiss.

The faint nudge against Lando’s palm had him pulling away from your lips with a gasp, turning to look down at your small belly that was growing your little life. He had been away from you for so long that he missed so much and this was a new development that he had only heard about from you over your late night calls.

“There’s baby saying hi.” you smiled.

Another little bump against his hand and Lando was breaking into a grin, “Oh my gosh. Hi, little one.”

It was only the smallest of feelings since the baby was still tiny and limbs hadn’t grown full strength yet but Lando was completely enamoured by the little flutters that came from inside you. He rubbed his hand over your belly and the movement almost seemed to follow his touch.

“Crazy, huh?” you said.

“Yeah. It’s incredible.” he breathed, “That’s our baby in there.”

“Mhm.” you smiled and leaned your head back to look at him again.

You watched his face for a moment as he stared, focused and in awe, at your growing baby you held so lovingly inside you. His heart soared and for a second, you thought he might cry by the shimmer of his light eyes.

Your thumb dusted across his cheek and you spoke to him softly, “I love you.”

He finally met your gaze and shared in your gentle smile, “I love you.”

The two of you shared a kiss and Lando melted back down into the bed behind you to cuddle you close with his protective hand still resting on your abdomen with yours on top. In your room, in the imperfect city of Monte Carlo, in a life Lando only ever thought he would achieve in his dreams, you were one.

He sealed his promise to you then and there, telling you with words stemming from all the love in his heart that he carried just for you, “All I have ever dreamt about and all I ever need in the whole world, I have right here.”

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gilverrwrites · 6 months ago

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Meet Cute Uglies [Bruce]

AN: Shout out to @luckyarchaeologist whose comments inspired me to go a completely different direction to what I had envisioned.🩷 And everyone else who reblogged/comments/voted for a part 2! I hope it lives up 🩷

GN!Reader/Bruce Wayne, 1.6K Words [2/?]

Part One >[Here]<

CWs: Mild/nonexplicit threats of violence, teasing

His hands are soft, and warm, soothing the tension from your body as he uses them to cup your face and hold you steady as he pushes closer, pressing your body deeper into the wall with his broad chest. Up close you can see a smattering of his five o’clock stubble coming through, even under the dim slivers of moonlight breaking through the gloomy alley. You note a hint of coffee on his breath before his lips brush against-

Loud banging at your apartment door startles you awake. Tired eyes sluggishly take in the time on the nearest clock, you’re barely able to process the numbers before the knocks come again. It’s too early. It’s your day of for goodness’ sake and it sounds like someone is trying to break down your door with their fists. When you answer it’s an equally disgruntled delivery driver. They ask your name before bombarding you with a large box and snapping a proof of delivery photo. You ponder your unkempt morning appearance and pray the sender of this parcel doesn’t ever check that photo.

It was almost certainly not from you because you hadn’t ordered anything, especially not anything this big. You don’t recognise the logo, but it, the matte black tape, and the distinct florally smell permeating from the smooth white container tells you that whatever is inside is expensive. That or it’s a trap, designed to lure you in with its unsuspecting exterior, then BAM Ivy toxin or Joker gas. You’re not dumb, you’ve seen the PSAs.

30 minutes, one morning brew, one disposable mask, one sharp knife, 2 gloves, and a whole lot of nerve later you gently remove the contents from its packaging. It’s wrapped in a layer of security card and glittery tissue paper but it’s pretty evident what it is. It’s a very nice bouquet of flowers. A mix of carnations, hyacinths, and baby’s-breath, already sitting in a pretty crystal vase that probably cost more than your rent. A gold envelope stands out amongst the colourful petals, and you fork it out to read despite being certain you already know who it's from. Nobody else in your life would spend this much money on flowers for you, even if it were a special occasion. The repercussions of telling your name to a stranger, even a famous stranger, who you’d known of all your life, but never known hadn’t occurred to you until you see it printed in foil against the high-quality textured card.

“As you understandably didn’t allow me the chance to apologise last night, please accept these as a token of my penitence. Regards, B.W.”

You’re not sure which irks you most, him cornering you in a dark alley in the first place, his seeking you out to apologise in an unsettlingly short amount of time, the absurd display of wealth, his pretentiously unironic use of the word ‘Penitence’, or the fact that you kinda liked it. The fact that you’d spend the night dreaming about slivers of moonlight and soft hands that didn’t exist. In actual fact, the remainder of the scene had been clumsy and anticlimactic.

“Who are you?” He demands. “And why are you following me?” You squint to read his expressions, barely able to make him out under the faint light of apartment windows high above your figures. There's a disconnect between the upper and lower halves of his face that adds to your already heightened nerves. His jaw and lips remain in an ever-present scowl, but steely blue eyes seem to soften as you tell him your name. “I'm not following you.” Your voice is stunted, weak due to the unrelenting pressure actual billionaire Bruce Wayne is applying to it. “I swear! It’s a coincidence.” He seems to believe you, or at least, he doesn’t consider you much of a threat because his grip loosens enough for you to find your footing again. Before he can change his mind, you scramble out of there, almost tripping on your accidentally discarded bag on the way. Whatever is up with him is not your problem. “I-“ “Save it.” Creep. You’re not interested in his apologies or excuses. You’re just an average person trying to make their way in the crime capital of the world, probably. It’s a miracle he didn’t put you in an early grave due to a heart attack. You could see the headlines now: ‘Playboy Billionaire Charged with Manslaughter: Officials unsure why he corned innocent Gothamite’ which is to presume a man with as much wealth as Bruce Wayne would ever be charged with a crime. Rich, ill-mannered, paranoid, handsome, creep. “Just stay away from me.”

As you stand motionless, relaying the events of the previous night in your head, it occurs to you that there's still something in the envelope, something slightly smaller and thicker than the apology card. You slip it out and flip it between your fingers, a gift card to the coffee shop you’d first seen him in, with a pre-paid value high enough to keep you and all your colleagues caffeinated for the rest of the year, if not longer.

The remainder of your day is spent relocating the two gifts between errands and relaxation time. The gift card is inserted and removed from the card section of your wallet so many times you’ve probably incidentally rubbed off its magnetic strip. Accepting it, and using it wasn’t bad, not really. He wasn’t buying you or your forgiveness it's just a show good intent, not to mention it was basically pocket change to a man with that much money.

But it did feel a little bit like being bought.

And the flowers reminded you of that conflict every time you looked at them, so they made their way onto every feasible surface and counter until you found a spot with enough light to keep them alive that wasn’t in plain sight 90% of the time. Maybe you could sell or donate the vase once the flowers are dead. It really did make the rest of your living space look shabby-er in comparison. Or maybe you could paint it to match the rest of its new home, cover it in acrylic paint and use it to hold anything else. If you ever see Bruce again you could show him a photo, see if he really did give it in good faith to be used however you pleased, or if it makes him uncomfortable.

In fact, on your next day back at work you’re scrolling through Pinterest for design inspiration as you queue up for the first of many Wayne-funded drinks when you sense it. Him. The enticing scent of his cologne clueing you into his presence. You cast a look over your shoulder and there he is, smiling at you with perfect white teeth. He seems more casual today, his hair still perfectly styled but appearing free of any products, his suit traded in for just the slacks and button-up. Once again, you’re reminded of his player image, it’s not hard to tell why so many people swoon all over him.

“Oh, hello.” He greets, raising his hand as though to wave at you. His fingers don’t look nearly as soft as you’d imagined. They look sturdy and calloused, strange for a man who guzzles champagne and stands behind a podium, smiling for photographers more days than not. Paperwork does not account for skin that thick. “I was hoping to run into you here.”

“Really?” Internally you’re suspicious, but your voice comes out an octave higher than usual, your skin growing warm under his gaze. It’s stupid to think that he’s pursuing you, flirting with you. He’s probably just looking for closure on his apology, ensuring you don’t slander his image by selling the story to the papers. He really is buying you. Your silence. “Why?”

“I was hoping I could buy you a drink.” And without your confirmation he sides steps around you, joining you in your spot amongst everybody else waiting to be served.

“You’re already buying me coffee.” You flash him the gift card he’d paid for. “Or did you forget casually dropping this much cash?”

He laughs at that, like you’ve made a joke. He’s deflecting? Maybe. But he sounds so genuine, so hearty it’s contagious. Your laugh isn’t as cheery as his, but it slips past your lips regardless.

“No, no. I didn’t forget. I couldn’t forget anything about you. Especially not after seeing you in that delivery photo.” He finishes with a wink. That was flirting, definitely flirting. Or maybe an insult. Either way, you’re feeling just as nervous, if not more than you had been that night in the alley. This is just a different kind of nerves, it’s the butterflies in your belly instead of the pit in your stomach kind. “What’s one more between new friends, huh?”

“Friends?” You raise your brows. He does not have the decency to look sheepish under your dubious stare, he just looks back at you calm and collected, just like he is on the TV. A few days ago, you might have bought it, but you’ve seen him lose his cool in person. Something feels off.

“I’d like to be friends, or I’d at least like to apologise in person. If you’ll let me.” For a man so bent on making amends with you, there isn’t a hint of sorrow in his tone or posture.

It’s almost your turn at the counter, you have seconds to make your decision.

The barista gestures for the next customer, as you answer. “Okay fine, let’s be friends.”

“Excellent. You just made my day.” And then his hand cups the small of your back as the two of you step up to order. He does it so casually that you almost don’t notice, you’re not sure if you’re just susceptible to his moves, or if he’s practised them to perfection. Maybe you’re reading too much into it, maybe all pretty boy billionaires act like this, maybe it’s all strategy to keep his image clean, or maybe there’s something shady about Bruce Wayne and his weirdly hard, slick hands. Maybe he's hiding something, and whatever it is, you intend to figure it out.

If you should enjoy the view along the way, well, who could blame you?

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne/reader #batman #batman x reader #batman/reader #gilverrwrites #dc #x reader #reader insert #gn reader

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 30 days ago

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Second Chance - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve tried to get you back, but it's not always easy to gain back the trust one loses.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Warning: Angsts, like kind of a lot of it, injured character, but nobody dies. A bit of fluff with a happy ending.

Words: 9 224

AN: So, sweet anon asked about part two of Enough is Enough, and well, why the hell no :) I feel like shit (being sick isn't fun), so apologies x4 for any mistakes. My brain isn't braining...

Steve didn’t give up.

Steve’s first apology came in the form of flowers.

They arrived at the coffee shop just as you were opening. A delivery driver handed you the bouquet—a lush arrangement of white roses and baby’s breath, wrapped in soft tissue paper. For a moment, you just stared at them, the scent of fresh blossoms mingling with the familiar aroma of coffee beans. The card nestled within the bouquet bore only three words: I’m so sorry.

Your chest tightened. You didn’t have to wonder who sent them.

“Who’s the secret admirer?” your coworker teased, grinning as she wiped down the counter.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you set the bouquet aside, trying to push down the lump rising in your throat. It was a beautiful gesture—one you might have cherished once—but now it felt hollow.

The flowers kept coming. Every morning, a new arrangement would appear. Daisies, tulips, sunflowers. Each accompanied by a note in Steve’s handwriting: I miss you. I love you. Let me fix this.

You didn’t know how to feel. Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him the chance to make things right. But another part of you—the part still raw and aching—refused.

Then he started showing up.

The first time, you nearly dropped the coffee pot in your hand. He stood outside the shop, leaning against the lamppost with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. He looked different—tired, almost haunted, as though the weight of your absence was something physical he carried with him.

You ignored him, focusing on your customers, but you could feel his presence like a shadow just beyond the glass. When you finally closed the shop, he was still there.

He said your name softly as you stepped outside, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t stop walking.

“Please,” he called after you, his tone desperate. “Just give me a chance to talk.”

You turned back, your jaw clenched. “Why now, Steve? Why couldn’t you talk to me when it mattered?”

His face crumpled, and for a brief moment, you felt a pang of guilt. But you shook it off and kept walking.

It didn’t deter him. Steve came back the next day, and the day after that, always waiting silently as you worked. It wasn’t until a week later that you finally confronted him.

“What do you want from me, Steve?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

His blue eyes searched yours, filled with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in months. “I want to make this right,” he said, his voice breaking. “I love you. I never stopped. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening with conflicting emotions. He looked so sincere, so heartbroken, that for a moment, you almost believed him. Almost.

“It’s too late,” you said finally, your voice barely audible. “You can’t fix this. I don’t trust you anymore.”

The pain in his eyes was like a physical blow, but you didn’t let it show. You turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, defeated.

But the truth was, you weren’t as strong as you seemed. Every step away from him felt like ripping a piece of yourself apart. By the time you got home, you were shaking, tears streaming down your face as you collapsed onto the couch.

You loved him. God, you still loved him. But love wasn’t enough anymore.

***

The days blurred together after that.

You went through the motions of your life—opening the coffee shop each morning, smiling at customers, making small talk with your coworkers—but it all felt mechanical, like a script you had memorized long ago. The warmth and joy that once fueled you were gone, replaced by an empty numbness you couldn’t seem to shake.

Nights were the worst.

Sleep eluded you, no matter how many hours you spent staring at the ceiling or tossing and turning under your blankets. The bed felt too big, too cold without him there. You hated yourself for missing him, for craving the comfort of his arms even after everything he’d done. But the longing wasn’t something you could control.

It wasn’t just the nights, though. Little things kept sneaking up on you, tearing at the fragile stitches holding you together.

The sight of his favorite mug on your kitchen counter. The book he’d borrowed but never finished, still sitting on your nightstand. The faint scent of his cologne that lingered on your favorite sweater, no matter how many times you washed it.

You tried to distract yourself, but nothing worked. Books, once your solace, couldn’t hold your attention. The words blurred together, and you’d find yourself reading the same sentence over and over without absorbing a single word.

Your friends noticed.

“You need to eat more,” one of them said during a group dinner you’d been forced to attend. She pushed a plate of pasta toward you, her brow furrowed with concern. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, picking at the food with a fork.

Kat wasn’t buying it. She leaned across the table, her sharp blue eyes cutting through your defenses. “You’re not fine. And we’re not going to pretend otherwise.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you had to blink back the sting of tears.

Steve’s friends noticed too. Sam popped into the coffee shop one morning, leaning casually against the counter as you took his order.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said matter-of-factly, his tone laced with concern.

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice light. “Busy days, you know how it is.”

He didn’t press you further, but the look he gave you lingered long after he left.

***

The worst was when Steve came back.

It was late in the evening, just before closing, when he walked into the shop. You froze behind the counter, your heart leaping into your throat at the sight of him.

He looked just as broken as you felt. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was mussed like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. He lingered near the entrance, as if unsure whether he was welcome.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice hesitant.

You gripped the edge of the counter, steadying yourself. “We’re about to close.”

“I know,” he said, his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides. “I just… I wanted to see you.”

You turned away, pretending to busy yourself with cleaning up. “You shouldn’t be here, Steve.”

“Please,” he said, stepping closer. “Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening painfully. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” he said, his voice breaking. “And because I can’t stand knowing I hurt you like this.”

His words cracked something inside you, but you couldn’t let him see it. “You need to leave,” you said firmly, refusing to meet his eyes.

For a moment, he hesitated, as if hoping you might change your mind. But when you didn’t, he nodded, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

You watched him go, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the empty shop. And then you broke.

You sank to the floor, tears streaming down your face as the weight of your grief crushed you.

You loved him. God, you still loved him.

But you didn’t know how to let yourself forgive him.

***

You didn’t expect to find Bucky Barnes on your doorstep.

It was a gray Saturday morning, and the porch floor creaked under your weight as you aimlessly swept away fallen leaves. When you opened the door and saw him standing there, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and his blue-gray eyes watching you carefully, you froze.

“Bucky?”

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual, though his expression betrayed a flicker of hesitation. “Mind if I come in?”

You hesitated. This was Steve’s best friend. Seeing him felt like reopening wounds that you’d been trying desperately to let heal. But there was no judgment in his gaze, no pressure—just concern. So, with a heavy sigh, you stepped aside and gestured for him to enter.

He stepped into the living room, glancing around like he was cataloging the space. You folded your arms, standing stiffly near the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, doll,” he teased, his lips quirking into a faint smirk.

“Bucky,” you said, your voice sharper now. “Why are you here?”

He sighed, the smirk fading. “I wanted to check on you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quickly. “I’m not with Steve anymore. There’s no obligation.”

He raised an eyebrow, his head tilting slightly as he leaned against the back of your couch. “Obligation? That’s not why I’m here, sweetheart. You’re my friend too. And whether or not you’re with Steve doesn’t change that.”

The softness in his tone made something crack inside you. You wanted to argue, to brush him off, but instead, you felt your defenses falter.

“Besides,” he continued with a wry grin, “someone’s gotta make sure you know not all men are idiots. Steve might be an amazing guy, but even amazing guys screw up sometimes.”

That last sentence hit you like a slap. You felt the tears coming before you could stop them, your vision blurring as all the emotions you’d been bottling up threatened to spill over. You turned away, trying to pull yourself together, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Hey,” he said gently, stepping closer. “Talk to me.”

That was all it took for the dam to break.

“I don’t know how to stop loving him,” you blurted, your voice trembling as the words spilled out in a rush.

Bucky froze, his expression softening as he watched the tears stream down your face. You sank onto the couch, your shoulders shaking, and he followed, sitting beside you without a word.

“I hate him for what he did,” you continued, your voice cracking. “I hate that he made me feel like I didn’t matter, like I was just… there. And now? Now he’s trying to fix it, like I’m supposed to just forget everything and let him back in.”

Bucky listened silently, his hands clasped together as you poured your heart out.

“It feels like a slap in the face,” you said, your chest heaving with each breath. “Like he thinks flowers and apologies will erase months of feeling invisible. I hate him for that. But more than anything, I hate that I still love him.”

You buried your face in your hands, your voice muffled as you added, “I don’t want to love him anymore. I want it to stop, Bucky. I want it all to stop.”

The room was quiet for a long moment. Then, Bucky sighed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Doll,” he said softly, “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but loving him isn’t something to hate yourself for. Steve… he’s a complicated guy. He doesn’t always get things right, but I promise you, he loves you. More than you know.”

You shook your head, your voice shaking. “If he loved me so much, why did he treat me like that? Why did he make me feel like I didn’t matter?”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “You’re right. He screwed up. Big time. But… he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for years. It doesn’t excuse how he hurt you, but I’ve seen him lately, and he’s a wreck without you.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, your tears blurring the intensity in his gaze.

“He’s not good at showing it,” Bucky continued, “but he’s an amazing guy. I’ve known him my whole life, and I’ve seen him at his best and his worst. And I know he’ll never stop trying to make this right. The question is… would you ever let him? What would it take for you to let him back in?”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and unrelenting. You didn’t answer right away, your fingers gripping the hem of your shirt as you stared down at the floor.

“I don’t know,” you whispered finally. “I don’t know if I can. It’s like… every time I see him, I remember how much it hurt. And even if I wanted to try again, I don’t know if I’d ever trust him not to hurt me like that again.”

Bucky reached out, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he said gently. “But whatever you choose, just know this: you deserve to be happy, sweetheart. Whether that’s with Steve or without him.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any trace of pity or judgment, but there was none. Just quiet understanding and unwavering support.

When he finally stood to leave, he gave you a small smile. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his voice steady. “And no matter what happens, I’m here. Steve or no Steve.”

You watched him go, his words echoing in your mind long after the door closed.

And for the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe—just maybe—you could find a way forward.

***

The compound gym was almost empty, save for the quiet hum of machinery and the dull thud of fists meeting a punching bag. Steve Rogers stood at the far end of the room, his knuckles raw and his breathing ragged. He’d been at it for hours, his frustration and grief pouring into every swing, every strike. The bag swayed violently under the force of his hits, the chain creaking with each impact.

“You keep that up, and you’ll be patching the damn thing again,” Bucky’s voice rang out, casual and dry as ever, though the concern in it was unmistakable.

Steve paused mid-swing, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly as he turned to see his best friend leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. Bucky’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes betrayed a softness Steve wasn’t sure he deserved.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, his voice hoarse from hours of exertion.

“Figured I’d find you here,” Bucky replied, stepping into the gym. “Thought maybe you’d stop using that bag like it owes you money and actually talk to me.”

Steve sighed, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Not in the mood, Buck.”

“Well, tough,” Bucky shot back, grabbing a folding chair and dragging it noisily across the floor. He plopped it down unceremoniously a few feet away from Steve, crossing one ankle over his knee. “Because I just came from seeing her.”

The color drained from Steve’s face. He froze, his fists still clenched at his sides. “You… you saw her?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said evenly, watching his friend’s reaction carefully. “She didn’t slam the door in my face, so I’d say I’m doing better than you.”

Steve flinched, the weight of Bucky’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He turned away, his hands gripping the edges of the punching bag as he tried to steady himself. “How… how is she?”

Bucky hesitated. He’d seen the raw pain in your eyes, the tears you tried to hide, and he knew Steve wasn’t ready for the truth. But lying wouldn’t help either.

“She’s a mess, Steve,” Bucky said softly. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Steve let out a shaky breath, his head hanging low. “I did this to her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I pushed her away, made her feel like she wasn’t enough. And now… now I don’t know how to fix it.”

Bucky stood, closing the distance between them. “Steve, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Steve turned, his eyes red and tired.

“She still loves you,” Bucky said firmly, his voice steady. “But she’s hurt, and she’s angry. And you can’t expect her to just forget all that because you’re showing up with flowers and apologies.”

“I know that,” Steve snapped, his voice breaking. “God, Buck, I know. But what else can I do? Every time I see her, it’s like she’s slipping further away, and I don’t know how to reach her anymore.”

Bucky’s gaze softened, and he placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You start by understanding that this isn’t about fixing things overnight. It’s about showing her that you’re willing to put in the work, no matter how long it takes. That you’re not just sorry—you’re ready to be better.”

Steve nodded, though the despair in his eyes didn’t fade. “She said she doesn’t trust me anymore.”

“Then earn it back,” Bucky said simply. “Show her that you’re not the same guy who hurt her. And for God’s sake, stop treating this like a battle you can win with brute force. You’re not fighting Hydra here, Steve. You’re fighting for her.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged, his head dropping into his hands. “I don’t even know if she wants me to try.”

Bucky crouched slightly, meeting Steve’s gaze head-on. “I asked her,” he said quietly.

Steve’s head shot up, his blue eyes wide. “What? What did she say?”

“She doesn’t know,” Bucky admitted. “She’s scared, Steve. Scared that if she lets you back in, you’ll hurt her again. And honestly? I don’t blame her.”

The words hit Steve like a blow, but he didn’t argue. He knew Bucky was right.

“She told me something else too,” Bucky continued, his voice softer now. “She said she doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And it’s killing her.”

Steve’s breath caught, his chest tightening painfully. “She… she said that?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. She loves you, Steve. But love isn’t enough—not after what you put her through. You have to show her that you’re not just saying the right things. You have to be the right man for her. The man she fell in love with.”

Steve closed his eyes, his mind racing with memories of you—the way you used to laugh, the way you’d look at him like he was your whole world. He’d taken that for granted, and now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get it back.

“What if I can’t?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “What if I’ve already lost her?”

Bucky’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “You don’t get to give up, punk. Not on her, and not on yourself. You want her back? Then fight for her. And don’t stop until you’ve shown her that she’s worth everything.”

Steve swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “How? How do I even start?”

Bucky gave him a small, knowing smile. “Start by listening. By showing up—not just for her, but for the life she wants. Show her that she’s not a convenience, Steve. She’s the center of it all.”

Steve nodded slowly, the weight of Bucky’s words sinking in. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t give up on you. Not now. Not ever.

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said quietly, his voice rough but sincere.

Bucky grinned, clapping him on the back. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a hell of a road ahead of you.”

Steve nodded, determination flickering in his tired eyes. He didn’t know how long it would take or if he’d even succeed, but for you, he’d move mountains.

Because losing you wasn’t an option. And he’d spend the rest of his life proving it if that’s what it took.

***

Steve left the gym after his conversation with Bucky feeling drained but determined. His best friend’s words weighed on him, both a reminder of the man he wanted to be and the man he hadn’t been for you. He knew Bucky was right—this wasn’t a fight he could win with brute force or a quick apology. It would take time, patience, and a quiet kind of devotion that he’d never had to show before.

He didn’t expect you to forgive him overnight. He didn’t even expect you to notice what he was doing right away. But he had to start somewhere.

***

It was early morning when Steve pushed open the door to your coffee shop.

The familiar bell jingled above him, the sound stirring memories of quieter, happier times. You were behind the counter, moving with practiced ease as you worked the espresso machine. You didn’t see him at first, but when you turned, your eyes locked, and Steve felt the air shift.

“Morning,” he said, his voice soft, careful not to disrupt the fragile peace of the moment.

You blinked, your expression guarded. “Morning.”

“I’m here for coffee,” he said, stepping forward. “For the team.”

Your brow furrowed, skeptical. “The team sent you?”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Not exactly. Thought I’d take my turn.”

You didn’t reply, but you turned back to the espresso machine, the hum of it filling the silence. Steve watched you work, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, and for a moment, he was struck by how natural this scene felt, even with the tension between you.

When you handed him the tray of drinks, your fingers brushed his briefly, and he saw the faintest flicker of something in your eyes—surprise, maybe, or something softer.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice warm but careful.

You didn’t answer, but you nodded, and he left without lingering, the bell jingling softly as the door swung shut behind him.

The next time he came, it was quieter. Midmorning, after the breakfast rush had died down, Steve appeared with a small brown paper bag in hand.

You were cleaning the counter, lost in thought, when his voice broke through the silence.

“You forget to eat when you’re busy,” he said simply, placing the bag on the counter.

You looked up, startled. “Steve…”

“It’s just breakfast,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall your protests. “Nothing more. Just thought you might need it.”

You hesitated, the words you wanted to say caught somewhere in your throat. Slowly, you opened the bag, the warm scent of eggs and bacon wafting up to meet you.

“From that diner you like,” he added, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Figured it was better than you skipping meals.”

You stared at the bag for a long moment before meeting his eyes. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I wanted to.”

He didn’t stay long, didn’t push for conversation. He just gave you a small nod and left, leaving you with breakfast and a strange, lingering warmth in your chest.

Natasha was relentless when it came to her movie nights, and somehow, you found yourself at the Tower despite your protests. The room was cozy, filled with the low murmur of conversation and the scent of popcorn. You settled into one corner of the couch, trying to ignore the way Steve’s presence tugged at the edges of your awareness.

When the opening credits began to roll, Steve appeared beside you, holding something in his hands.

“Here,” he said quietly, offering you a pair of thick woolen socks.

You frowned, confused. “What’s this?”

“Your feet get cold,” he said simply, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at him, your chest tightening, before reluctantly taking the socks. “Thanks,” you muttered, slipping them on.

He didn’t linger, didn’t push for more. But later, when the movie reached its tense climax, he handed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate—rich, creamy, with just the right amount of cinnamon.

“You don’t have to—” you started, but he cut you off with a small, knowing smile.

“You love hot chocolate after horror movies,” he said, his tone soft. “Figured you might want some.”

You took the mug, the warmth seeping into your hands, and for the first time that night, you let yourself relax.

The envelope was waiting for you in your mailbox, unassuming but carefully placed. Inside was a single ticket to the sold-out Broadway show you’d mentioned to Sam weeks ago.

The note tucked inside was brief, written in Steve’s familiar handwriting: Thought you’d like this. Hope it’s as good as you imagined.

You stared at the ticket for a long time, your heart aching with a mixture of gratitude and frustration. He remembered. Of course, he remembered.

You told yourself it didn’t matter, that it was just a kind gesture, but deep down, it chipped away at the walls you’d built around your heart.

The night your car broke down was cold and quiet, the kind of night that made the world feel vast and lonely. You sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the lifeless dashboard, your breath fogging up the glass as you fought the urge to cry.

You tried calling a few friends, but no one answered. Finally, with trembling fingers, you dialed the one number you swore you wouldn’t.

“Sweetheart?” Steve’s voice came through the line, steady and concerned.

“My car won’t start,” you said softly, ignoring the pet name, hating how small your voice sounded.

“Where are you?”

You told him, and he didn’t hesitate. “Stay there. I’m on my way.”

When his truck pulled up beside you, he climbed out without a word, his breath misting in the cold air as he checked under your hood. His movements were sure and efficient, his presence steadying.

“Alternator’s shot,” he said finally, closing the hood. “I’ll take you home.”

You hesitated, your pride warring with your gratitude, but the freezing air made the decision for you.

The drive was quiet, the heater humming softly as Steve navigated the empty streets. He didn’t pry, didn’t try to fill the silence with unnecessary words. He just… drove.

When you woke up the next morning, your car was back in its usual spot. The engine purred like new when you started it, and a small note was taped to the dashboard: Shouldn’t give you trouble anymore. Call me if it does.

Each gesture was small, unassuming. Steve never pushed, never demanded more than you were willing to give. He just… showed up, quietly and consistently, letting his actions speak louder than words ever could.

And slowly, despite yourself, you began to notice.

***

Three months had passed since the breakup.

You wouldn’t say things had gone back to normal—far from it—but something had undeniably shifted between you and Steve. His quiet persistence, the way he showed up without pushing or demanding anything from you, had started to chip away at the walls you’d built around your heart.

At first, your conversations were stiff and polite, nothing more than a few sentences exchanged when he stopped by the coffee shop or brought you breakfast. But as the weeks went by, those moments grew longer, softer. He’d ask about your day, about the books you were reading, or the things you enjoyed, and you found yourself answering more openly. It wasn’t quite like before, but it was closer to the first moments of your relationship, back when everything had been new and uncomplicated.

Still, there was a voice in the back of your mind that wouldn’t let you forget. A quiet, insistent whisper that reminded you of how he’d hurt you, how he’d pushed you aside and made you feel invisible.

That voice grew louder the day he asked you to talk.

***

It was late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the windows of the coffee shop as you wiped down the counter. The shop was quiet, the usual morning and lunch rushes long gone, leaving you with only the hum of the espresso machine and the soft clatter of dishes.

The sound of the bell above the door caught your attention, and when you looked up, Steve was there.

He’d been coming in more often lately, not just to pick up coffee for the team but to see you, to talk to you. This time, though, something about the way he stood—his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched—told you this wasn’t just a casual visit.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice careful as he approached the counter.

“Hey,” you replied, setting the towel aside.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked, glancing around at the empty shop. “I mean… can we talk?”

You hesitated, your stomach twisting. The vulnerability in his expression was disarming, but that voice in the back of your mind warned you to tread carefully. Still, you nodded, gesturing toward one of the empty tables.

Steve followed you, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from you. For a moment, he said nothing, his hands clasped tightly on the table as he stared down at them. You waited, your heart thudding quietly in your chest as the silence stretched between you.

Finally, he took a deep breath and looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he began, his voice low but steady. “About what I should say. How I should say it. And the truth is… there’s no easy way to do this. So I’m just going to be honest.”

You nodded, your throat tightening as you braced yourself for whatever was coming.

“I screwed up,” he said, the words heavy with regret. “I let you down in a way I never should have. And I’ve been trying to figure out why—why I acted the way I did, why I pushed you away when you were the best thing in my life.”

His hands tightened into fists, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to find the right words. “I think… I think I was scared. Scared of not being enough for you, scared of dragging you into everything that comes with being me. The missions, the stress, the weight of it all—I didn’t want to burden you with that.”

Your brow furrowed, confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. “So you decided to ignore me instead? To shut me out?”

“I know,” he said quickly, his voice breaking slightly. “I know it doesn’t make sense. It was selfish and stupid, and I wasn’t thinking about how it would make you feel. I just… I thought if I kept it to myself, if I didn’t tell you about everything that was going on, I could protect you from it. But all I did was hurt you.”

His eyes glistened, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “I’ll never forgive myself for that. For making you feel like you weren’t enough when you were everything to me.”

The raw emotion in his voice made your chest ache, but the wounds he’d left were still fresh, still tender.

“Steve…” you began, your voice trembling, “you hurt me more than anyone ever has. Do you know that?”

He flinched, his jaw tightening, but he nodded.

“I spent weeks wondering what I did wrong,” you continued, your words spilling out in a rush. “I kept asking myself why I wasn’t good enough for you, why I wasn’t worth your time or your attention. And then, when you finally started trying again, it felt like a slap in the face. Like you thought a few kind gestures could erase everything you put me through.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you fought to keep your voice steady. “I wanted so badly to be enough for you, Steve. That’s all I ever wanted. Just to be enough.”

“You were,” he said quickly, his voice cracking. “You are. God, you’re more than enough. I was the one who wasn’t. I didn’t know how to handle it—how to be the man you deserved—and I let that fear control me. But I swear to you, I see it now. I see what I lost because of it.”

He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “I know I don’t deserve another chance. I know I might have ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. But if there’s anything—anything—I can do to change your mind, tell me. I’ll do it. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can be better, that I can be the man you need me to be.”

His voice dropped, barely more than a whisper. “I just need to know if there’s any part of you that still believes in us.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding as the weight of his words settled over you. The pain, the anger, the love—all of it swirled together in a storm of emotion that left you speechless.

Finally, you let out a shaky breath, your voice trembling as you said, “I don’t know, Steve. I don’t know if I can trust you again. I don’t know if I can forget how much it hurt.”

His face crumpled, but he nodded, accepting your words without argument.

“But…” you continued, your voice softer now, “I can’t pretend I don’t still feel something for you. I can’t pretend I don’t still love you.”

His eyes widened, hope flickering in their depths.

“That doesn’t mean we can go back to how things were,” you said quickly, your tone firm. “If we’re going to try… if we’re going to even think about trying, it has to be different. You have to be honest with me, Steve. About everything.”

“I will,” he said immediately, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear, I will.”

You nodded, your throat tight with the weight of what you’d just said. It wasn’t forgiveness—not yet—but it was something. A small step toward rebuilding what had been broken.

And as Steve reached out, his hand brushing against yours, you let yourself hope—for the first time in months—that maybe, just maybe, it was a step worth taking.

***

It had been a week since the conversation with Steve, and your emotions were in turmoil. You felt caught between the raw pain of the past and the cautious hope of what could be. His words haunted you—his apologies, his promises, the way his voice had cracked when he told you how much he still cared.

You needed clarity, and there was only one person who could give you the no-nonsense advice you desperately needed: Natasha.

She arrived at your place that evening, a takeout bag in hand, and didn’t waste a second settling herself at your kitchen table. Her sharp green eyes studied you as you sat down across from her, picking at the noodles she’d brought for you.

“All right,” she said, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Steve,” you admitted, your voice soft.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. “What about him?”

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the table. “We talked. Really talked. He told me everything—why he shut me out, how he felt, all of it. He apologized for everything and… I believe him, Nat. I really do.”

“But?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“But I don’t know if I can trust him again,” you confessed, your throat tightening. “I don’t know if I can let myself go through that again. He hurt me so much, Nat. How do I just move past that?”

Natasha studied you for a moment, her gaze piercing. “Let me ask you something,” she said finally. “If you didn’t still love him, if you didn’t still want something with him deep down, would we even be having this conversation right now?”

You frowned, her words hitting you hard. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been three months,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “If you were done with him, if you really didn’t care anymore, you’d have moved on by now. You wouldn’t still be here, agonizing over whether to give him another chance.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came. She wasn’t wrong, and deep down, you knew it.

“I’m not saying you have to forgive him tomorrow or even next week,” Natasha continued, leaning forward. “But if there’s still a part of you that wants to believe in him, don’t ignore that. You owe it to yourself to figure out what you really want. Not what you’re afraid of, not what you think you should do. What you want.”

Her words lingered long after she left, a quiet truth that refused to be ignored.

***

At the same time, Steve was grappling with his own uncertainty.

He sat in the Tower’s lounge, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as he stared out the window. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your conversation, about the raw pain in your voice when you told him how much he’d hurt you.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Steve turned to see both Sam and Bucky entering the room. They exchanged a look before sitting down on either side of him.

“You’ve been brooding,” Sam said bluntly. “What’s going on?”

Steve sighed, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “It’s her,” he admitted.

“Figured,” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair. “What happened?”

“I talked to her,” Steve said. “Told her everything—how I felt, why I shut her out. I apologized for all of it.”

“And?” Sam prompted.

“She said she doesn’t know if she can trust me again,” Steve said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “But she also said she still loves me. I don’t know what to do with that, Sam. I don’t know how to make it right.”

Sam leaned forward, his expression serious. “Look, man, love isn’t always enough. Not when there’s hurt involved. If she doesn’t trust you right now, that’s on you to fix. You can’t just expect her to forgive and forget because you feel bad about it.”

“I know that,” Steve said quickly, his jaw tightening. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to mess this up again. I need to figure out how to show her that I’m serious without overwhelming her.”

Bucky gave him a long, measured look. “You’ve been trying,” he said finally. “We’ve all seen it—the little things you’ve been doing. But if you’re asking me, you’re not going to fix this by tiptoeing around her. You’ve got to be honest, Rogers. If you want her back, you need to let her see all of you. The good, the bad, and the stuff you think she won’t want to deal with.”

Steve frowned, his gaze dropping to the floor. “What if she doesn’t want to deal with it?”

“Then she doesn’t,” Bucky said simply. “But if you hold back, you’re not giving her the chance to decide for herself. And that’s not fair to either of you.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “You’ve got to let her see that you’re not just saying the right things, Steve. You’ve got to show her. But don’t make it about fixing things fast. Healing takes time, for both of you.”

Steve exhaled slowly, the weight of their words settling over him. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Sam said with a grin. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you, Cap.”

***

Steve spent the next few days thinking about their advice. He’d been so focused on not pushing you, on giving you space, that he hadn’t realized he might be holding back too much.

When he saw you next, it was at the coffee shop, just as you were closing up for the day. He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, his heart pounding.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice breaking the quiet.

You looked up, surprise flickering across your face. “Hey.”

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

You nodded slowly, setting down the rag you’d been using to clean the counter. “Sure.”

He gestured toward one of the empty tables, and you followed him, sitting down across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a fragile thread.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Steve began, his voice steady but low. “About how much I hurt you, how I made you feel like you weren’t enough. And you were right. I let you down in ways I’ll never forgive myself for.”

Your throat tightened, but you stayed silent, letting him continue.

“I’ve spent so much time trying to fix things in small ways, trying to show you that I’m serious,” he said. “But I don’t think I’ve been honest enough with you. I don’t think I’ve let you see how much this has been tearing me apart.”

His hands tightened into fists on the table, his knuckles white. “I don’t want to overwhelm you or push you, but I can’t hold this back anymore. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be the man you deserve.”

His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw tears in his eyes. “If there’s anything—anything—I can do to earn your trust again, tell me. Because losing you would be the biggest mistake of my life.”

Your own eyes burned with tears, the raw honesty in his words cutting through the walls you’d built around your heart. For the first time, you saw not just the man who’d hurt you but the man who was willing to fight for you, flaws and all.

You didn’t have an answer for him—not yet. But as you reached across the table and took his hand, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start finding one.

***

You were closing up the coffee shop when your phone buzzed. The message was from Natasha. That alone was unusual—Nat rarely texted without reason. You pulled your phone out, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb.

The words on the screen made your blood run cold: We’ve lost contact with Steve and Bucky.

Your breath caught, and the phone nearly slipped from your trembling hands. For a moment, everything around you blurred—the soft hum of the espresso machine, the faint chatter of pedestrians outside, the smell of coffee beans—all of it faded into the background.

You didn’t think, didn’t even register dropping the rag you’d been using to clean the counter. Your hands shook as you locked the doors, fumbling with the keys before rushing to your car.

The drive to the Tower was a haze, your chest tight with panic as Natasha’s words repeated in your mind. You knew Steve went on dangerous missions. It was part of who he was. But something about those words—lost contact—made this time feel different.

***

By the time you arrived at the Tower, your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might break through your ribcage. The elevator ride felt like an eternity, each floor passing with agonizing slowness. When the doors finally slid open, you practically ran into the common room, where Natasha and Sam were already waiting.

“What happened?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

Natasha turned toward you, her expression calm but her eyes betraying her concern. “They were on a mission. Everything was going according to plan, but then we lost contact about three hours ago. We’ve been trying to re-establish communication, but there’s been no response.”

Three hours. That might as well have been three days.

“What do you mean ‘lost contact’?” you pressed, your voice rising. “How does that even happen?”

“It could be anything,” Sam said, his tone soothing but cautious. “Jammed signals, a misstep in the mission. We don’t know yet.”

You stared at them, your breathing shallow, your mind racing with every worst-case scenario imaginable. “So they could be…”

“They’re not,” Natasha said firmly, cutting you off. Her voice was sharp, but there was a softness in her gaze. “Steve and Bucky have been in worse situations than this. They’ll find a way to get back to us.”

Sam nodded in agreement, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. “They’re two of the toughest guys I know,” he said. “If anyone can make it out of this, it’s them.”

You wanted to believe them, but the fear in your chest refused to let go. You sank into one of the chairs, your hands gripping the armrests so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

The minutes dragged by like hours, the silence in the room heavy and oppressive. Natasha and Sam tried to make conversation, to keep you distracted, but you barely registered their words. Your mind was too consumed by the thought of what could happen—of what might have already happened.

***

When Natasha’s phone finally buzzed, the sound cut through the quiet like a gunshot. She snatched it up, her sharp gaze scanning the screen. Relief flickered across her face as she read aloud:

“It’s from Steve. They’re on their way back, but a medic is necessary.”

Your heart seized, a mixture of relief and panic coursing through you. “Who’s hurt?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“He didn’t say,” Natasha replied, her lips pressing into a thin line.

You tried to steady your breathing, but the knot in your chest refused to loosen. You told yourself it didn’t matter who was hurt—they were alive, and they were coming back. But the not knowing gnawed at you, the fear for Steve settling deep in your bones.

No one told Steve you were here, and maybe that was for the best. But as you sat there, waiting for the jet to arrive, you realized just how fragile everything felt. The past few months flashed through your mind—all the moments of doubt, the anger, the hesitation—and for the first time, they seemed so small. In the grand scheme of things, you could have lost Steve today. That thought terrified you more than anything else.

***

The sound of the jet’s engines rumbling low overhead pulled you out of your thoughts. You stood with Natasha and Sam, your heart pounding as the aircraft touched down on the Tower’s private landing pad.

The ramp lowered slowly, and the first thing you saw was Steve, his arm slung around Bucky to help him walk. Bucky looked pale, his arm hanging limp at his side, his face tight with pain. Medics rushed forward to meet him, but your eyes were locked on Steve.

He didn’t look much better than Bucky. His shirt was torn, streaked with dirt and blood, and his face bore a fresh collection of cuts and bruises. His shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion, his steps slow and measured.

But when his eyes found yours, he smiled.

Even battered and bloodied, he’d never looked more handsome. His beard, grown in over the time he’d been away, gave him a rugged edge, and his blue eyes still held that quiet strength you’d always admired.

The moment your gaze met his, something in you broke. You ran to him, barely aware of your surroundings, and threw your arms around him.

“Steve,” you sobbed, burying your face in his chest. His shirt was rough against your skin, damp with sweat and blood, but you didn’t care. “I was so scared. I thought… I thought I might lose you.”

His arms wrapped around you tightly, his grip strong despite his obvious exhaustion. “I’m okay,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “I’m here.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “You have to be more careful,” you said, your voice trembling. “You can’t… you can’t do this to me, Steve.”

His expression softened, and he reached up to brush a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What happened?” you asked, your voice cracking. “What went wrong?”

To your surprise, Steve didn’t hesitate. He guided you to a quieter corner, his hand resting lightly on your back, and began to explain.

“The mission was supposed to be straightforward,” he said, his voice low but steady. “But things went sideways fast. There were more hostiles than we anticipated, and Bucky got hit—bad. I couldn’t leave him behind, so I…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

“You carried him out,” you finished, your throat tightening.

Steve nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “I wasn’t going to leave him, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from fear. They were from the overwhelming realization of who Steve truly was—the man who would sacrifice everything for the people he cared about.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice softer now. “I won’t make that mistake again. And if you’re willing to listen, I’ll tell you everything—about the missions, about what’s going on with me. No more shutting you out.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mixture of love and fear and hope. Slowly, you nodded. “I’m listening,” you said.

And as he began to speak, you felt the cracks in your heart begin to mend, one word at a time.

***

Steve stayed with you after the medics whisked Bucky away to the infirmary. He’d insisted Bucky was in good hands, though you could see the guilt still lingering in his eyes. You sat together in one of the quieter rooms in the Tower, the tension from the mission still clinging to him like a second skin.

Despite his exhaustion, he refused to let go of your hand.

“You don’t have to stay,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you sat beside him. “I know it’s late.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

He gave you a small, tired smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re too good to me.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “No, Steve. I’m just—” You paused, searching for the right words. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging as the adrenaline that had sustained him through the mission began to fade. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“For everything,” he replied, meeting your gaze with a vulnerability that left you breathless. “For scaring you, for shutting you out before… for making you feel like you weren’t enough. I know I’ve said it before, but I need you to know I mean it.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. For a long moment, you didn’t respond, your chest tight as you tried to process the enormity of what he was saying.

“I was so scared today,” you admitted finally, your voice trembling. “When Nat texted me, when we didn’t know if you were okay… it was like the ground had been ripped out from under me.” You swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “I realized then how stupid these past few months have been. I was so caught up in my own hurt, my own doubts, that I didn’t see what we were losing.”

Steve’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You weren’t wrong to feel that way,” he said softly. “You had every right to be hurt, to doubt me. I earned that. But I don’t want to lose you, baby. Not now. Not ever.”

His words broke something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that again,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice steady and resolute.

***

The days following the mission passed in a haze of quiet moments and tentative steps forward. Steve stayed at the Tower to help Bucky recover, but he checked in with you constantly. Sometimes it was a quick text—How are you? Did you eat today?—and sometimes it was a phone call that lasted longer than either of you expected.

You visited the Tower often, bringing Bucky some of his favorite snacks and sitting with him while Steve caught up on reports. Bucky teased you relentlessly, of course, his dry humor cutting through the tension in ways only he could manage.

“So,” he said one afternoon, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “When are you two going to stop tiptoeing around and just admit you’re back together?”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “We’re not—”

“Sure,” Bucky interrupted, smirking. “And I’m the King of Wakanda.”

Steve, who had just entered the room, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, glaring at Bucky.

“Just pointing out the obvious,” Bucky said with a shrug, earning himself an eye-roll from both you and Steve.

Despite his teasing, Bucky’s words stayed with you. He wasn’t entirely wrong. The way you and Steve interacted had changed since the mission. There was a closeness now, a sense of trust that hadn’t been there before.

***

One evening, Steve invited you to dinner at the Tower. He didn’t call it a date, and you didn’t press him on it, but there was something deliberate about the way he’d set the table, the candles he’d lit, the care he’d taken with every detail.

The two of you sat across from each other, the soft glow of the candles casting warm light over his face. For a while, you just talked—about work, about Bucky’s recovery, about the books you’d been reading. The conversation flowed easily, the tension that had once lingered between you finally gone.

At one point, Steve leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said,” he began, his voice steady but quiet. “About how scared you were. How I need to be more careful.”

You frowned slightly. “Steve, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I know your work is dangerous. I’ve always known that.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “But you were right. I can’t keep doing this—not without being honest with you about what’s going on. If I’m asking you to be part of my life, I need to make sure you feel like you’re part of it.”

His words sent a warmth through your chest, a feeling of being truly seen and valued. “I appreciate that,” you said softly.

Steve smiled, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like everything between you was falling into place.

***

As the night wore on, the conversation grew quieter, more intimate. Steve reached across the table, his hand brushing yours.

“I know we can’t go back to how things were before,” he said, his voice low but firm. “But I think we can build something better. Something stronger. If you’ll let me.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt. Just quiet determination and a love that felt as steady and unshakable as the man himself.

“I want that too,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smile widened, and for the first time in months, you felt the weight in your chest begin to lift.

It wasn’t a perfect ending. There were still things to work through, still scars to heal. But as Steve reached for your hand, his grip warm and sure, you knew you were ready to take the next step—together.

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 month ago

Text

Spoiled Rotten

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: smut!

Takes place Oct 2024

You stroll up to your apartment, your hair thrown into a messy bun and sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose. In one hand is the key to your home, and the other holds the handle of your luggage. Your phone is squeezed between your cheek and shoulder as you giggle with your best friend, Beverly.

“Ugh I know! Who knew phone sex could be so exciting and fulfilling?!” You squeal into the phone as you walk through the door. You fight off a blush, but it only grows more furious as you notice what’s waiting inside for you.

On your kitchen counter stands two large bouquets of tulips and roses- your favorites. Next to the vases rests two boxes. One is quite large and pink. The other is smaller in comparison and velvet.

You’re silent for a brief moment, taking everything in. Beverly doesn’t even notice you’re silent as she’s too busy rattling off a story about her boyfriend. You’ll have to ask her to repeat herself once you’re not distracted anymore. The note sticking out of your bouquet keeps you for a moment longer.

“Congrats on your Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show debut. I couldn’t be more proud of my supermodel girlfriend. I love you, baby.” - Mat

Of course your sweet boyfriend provided these gifts. He loves spoiling you, and he takes full advantage of any time he gets to celebrate you. Your body fills with want, but it quickly subsides, knowing that he’s not in New York yet. He will be soon, though.

“Bev, you will never believe what I came home to,” you interrupt her, a giddy smile permanently stretching your lips.

You smirk and struggle to suppress a giggle at her response. Something about a naked Mat waiting on your couch. You wish.

“No. Flowers, like two huge bouquets. There’s also an Agent Provocateur box and a velvet box that probably contains something more expensive than my flight home,” you list off your gifts.

“Oh, your man has good taste. Have you opened the boxes?”

“No. I’m nervous. I feel like I’m about to explode. I’m literally shaking,” you sigh.

“Girl! What are you waiting for? Dig in!” Beverly shrieks. You can hear the grin in her tone.

You eagerly tear into the pink box holding your newest lingerie set. Butterflies fill your stomach, because a boy has never bought you lingerie before. But Mat isn’t a boy, he’s a man. A man that knows the woman he loves and that turns you on like no other.

Once you remove the tissue paper, you’re met with the daintiest, deep navy blue lingerie set. It’s all lace, leaving very little to the imagination. The front of your thong has your jaw on the floor. In orange, cursive embroidery says, “Barzal.”

“Beverly, it says ‘Barzal’ on the thong!” You practically cheer.

“Holy shit. That’s hot. Wait… you do like it, right?”

“Of course! I love it. It’s such a hot number and I cannot wait to wear it for him.”

Gently setting it aside, you move onto the velvet box. You close your eyes, wanting it to be a surprise. A gasp falls from your lips as you lay your eyes on the thin, gold watch. It has diamonds encrusted on the sides and it’s so shiny.

“It’s a gold watch. It’s dainty and has diamonds. I am truly at a loss for words,” you whisper into the phone.

“He loves you bad. I need pictures of everything asap,” Bev demands.

“On it- oops hold on. There’s someone knocking on my door.”

You look through the peephole, a scream bursting through its confinement when you see Mat waiting patiently.

“Bev, I have to go. Mat just got here. Meet for lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy your dick appointment.”

“I will,” you laugh and hang up.

Throwing the door open, you pull Mat inside and straight into a kiss.

“Fuck. I love you. When did you get home?” You breathe into him before sucking his tongue into your mouth.

“Early this morning. We were able to catch an earlier flight and I knew it was my opportunity to surprise you,” Mat says with a heaving chest and his forehead resting on yours.

“And surprise me you did,” you gleam, looping your arms around his neck and fully leaning into him.

“Do you like what I bought you, pretty girl?” He hums, face going to your neck. He noses at your pulse point and then sucks on your sweet spot. You let out a moan as he lowers his hands to your ass.

“I love it, baby. I can’t wait to put on my watch. It’s so gorgeous. I can’t wait to see my flowers every time I come home, and for you to fuck me in my new lingerie,” you whisper in his ear.

You subtly look at him to catch his reaction. A smirk fixes your lips when you see the way his eyes melt in desire.

“I can’t wait to see you look like the angel that you are. However, before we get to that, I want to take you out. Maybe to that small jazz restaurant you love,” he suggests, but his hands do most of the talking with the way they roam your body.

He refers to the restaurant as a place you love- which is true. He loves it just as much as you, though. You’ve shared many intimate moments there. His hands have settled on yours thighs when he leans closer to whisper in your ear; his lips have found your bare shoulder many times in chaste kisses as he watches you enjoy the music; his hands find your hips and the curve of your ass when you both occasionally indulge in a slow dance on the small, crowded dance floor. Chills zip down your spine just thinking about it.

“That sounds so perfect. But before I agree to any date, I think you should join me in the shower,” you hum, biting down on your bottom lip and pulling him to your bathroom.

It’s not much later that your bathroom is filled with steam and the sounds of you panting. Your back is pressed into the cold, wet tiles of your shower cabin. Water falls onto Mat’s large body and drips onto your smaller frame. His tongue flicks at yours as you meet in an open-mouth kiss. You both fight for dominance, but you quickly submit when he finally slides into your wet heat. A soft gasp falls from your lips and gets swallowed by his mouth.

His hips move softly, barely moving at all, so he can feel you stretch as you get adjusted. When you grab onto his shoulders and jut your hips up, he pushes into you fully. Mat’s body vibrates with a thrill that can only be caused by the tightness of your pussy as you suck him back in.

“Fuck. I love the way you make me feel,” you whine, eyes locked on his. The soft hazel color turns into something dark, more earthy than they already appear.

“I love the way you feel wrapped around me. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby,” Mat voices in a confident hum. The words get smothered on the hinge of your jaw by his lips.

“Oh yeah, Maty? I was made for you? Prove it, baby,” you tease and squeeze down on his length.

“Holy shit,” he sighs, muscles tensing before he locks in, grabbing onto your thigh and hauling it up and around his hip.

He pumps into you to the rhythm of your moans. His greedy hands grab at your flesh, squeezing you tighter to him. The tip of his cock prods into the deepest parts of you, making goosebumps dot your skin and your limbs rattle in ecstasy.

“I love you,” you chant through a muffled cry against Mat’s lips.

He sucks on your tongue, savoring every drop of you that’s reserved for him only. His hand travels to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair. A hiss escapes your throat when his teeth nip at the pulse point in your neck. Your heart beats crazily, fire bubbles in your veins and an earth-shattering orgasm starts to invade your senses.

“I love you,” he mutters, gripping your chin in his hand and bringing your mouth back to his.

Time seems to slip from your grip as your release washes over, drowning you in euphoria. You can barely feel Mat sucking on the flesh of your boobs, not when your vision turns into starbursts and your limbs feel like gelatin.

“Fuck,” Mat groans, hands finding your hips to keep you steady as he thrusts into you faster, chasing his own orgasm.

You shiver and cuddle closer to Mat, wrapping a hand around his upper back and neck. The thick cords of his muscles turn solid before going flaccid as he releases inside of you.

His heart thuds against his chest, almost tempting an escape. Mat so gently holds onto you, but eventually his strong body melts into your embrace. His forehead meets your shoulder, wet strands of hair tickling your jaw.

You suck his earlobe in between your lips. Dull nails dig into the plushness of your skin, making your pussy contract and pulse around him.

“You’re perfect,” Mat mutters in a half moan. He feels his cock spring back to life with the way you softly rock into him, luring him back to his personal heaven.

“No, you are,” you reply, nosing at his cheek while you enjoy the warmth created by the both of you.

“You know you’re spoiled rotten?” Mat breaks the peaceful silence, fingers gathering at your sides to pinch and tickle you.

“Am not,” you state with a sassy roll of your eyes.

“It literally took like less than 2 minutes for you to get me naked,” he claims, chin in the air as if no excuse you give will waiver his statement.

��I think you enjoy being wrapped around my finger. It’s not like I forced you to take off your clothes, so don’t complain, baby,” you hum.

Before he can respond, you place your lips on his, your tongue invading his mouth and all of his words falling silent.

a/n: Enjoy babes!!!

#visceral in doses #mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #nhl imagines #new york islanders

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save-the-villainous-cat · 5 months ago

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“So, are you just going to stare at my pretty face all day, or…?” The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest and rolled with their eyes. It was embarrassing enough, the hero didn’t have to rub it in.

“Is that such a crime?”

The villain let out a humourless huff. Their anger was evident, their frustration obvious.

And the pain, god, sometimes the villain couldn’t even breathe. Getting out of bed was already hard enough but being forced to work under these conditions?

Of course, it could have been worse. As part of their rehabilitation, they didn't need to do much, their work wasn't even that demanding.

But with their injuries, every move seemed to be unbearable.

“Just fuck off.”

“I have some documents to sign for you. My boss insists.” The hero fished a folder out of their bag and, unfortunately, they had indeed more documents. The villain found it quite unbelievable how much they had to sign. Although they knew it wasn't clever not to read over all of the pages carefully, they were too tired to do so.

They didn't really care that much either.

“Or better known as your excuse for visiting me,” the villain joked. Their side started to hurt again, a pain so cruel and prominent that they had to remind themselves to take everything slow.

It was actual hell. Not being able to do anything. Not being able to move freely. Although the doctor had assured them they were healing and doing well, the villain felt everything but fine. It had been over three weeks now and they were still waking up in the middle of the night. Pain robbed their sleep and pain robbed their mobility. They were impatient, they were annoyed.

The interrogation room was very familiar to the villain by now. Every week, they got to meet the hero. Either documents or lectures — whatever topic the hero chose, it was always a long conversation the villain’s body couldn’t manage towards the end.

However, they never said anything. The hero's visits were better than work. They were the best part of the entire week.

“I don’t need excuses to visit you,” the hero said, winking. They pushed the document towards the villain. “Sign here.”

The villain sighed. They didn’t even look at the paper.

“Can you ask them to increase my medication again at least?” the villain asked softly. They took in a deep breath and signed the document on the last page, their pen following their shaking hand's command as quickly as possible.

"I'm sorry, you're already on the highest dose possible."

"Oh." The villain put down the pen and stared at their nemesis. Their nemesis who had captured them. Who had put them in this situation in the first place. They seemed to be recovering just fine. They seemed to be fit and healthy, seemed to be in the prime of their life. Attractive and kind - perfection had carved itself through the hero. "...do you think the people here are honest? The nurses and the doctors, I mean?"

"Some of the best people in the country are working here," the hero said. "That includes medical staff."

"Okay." The villain's voice was quiet. They didn't understand the logistics behind a place like this, they didn't understand anything about the things the hero gave them to sign. "Did you know they're experimenting on me?"

"They take samples from your tissue or blood to look at in the lab. Seriously. You're not in any danger." The hero smiled sweetly and scratched the back of their neck. "I check the reports regularly and I talk to your doctor on a daily basis. It's their priority to help you."

"Why?"

"Well, you're a victim, are you not? We don't know much about the supervillain and their powers, so helping you recover could help us get more information on them. And considering your past, we have to...observe you in a special place like this." The hero leaned over the table to get to the document. Their fingertips touched the villain's knuckles by accident. "That's only one reason, of course. Most importantly, you were beaten to death and needed help."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Half your organs were hanging out of you when I found you," the hero said. Their voice was quieter now, maybe lost in their thoughts even. "I donated a kidney for you."

"You can be so romantic," the villain said. The sarcasm didn't really come across and the villain knew how half-hearted their jokes had become. It wasn't like they weren't grateful, it was just difficult to be saved and have a life when they had accepted their outcome a while ago. That day, they had accepted that they wouldn't survive. They had made their peace with it and then the hero had saved them.

And now, the villain had to live with this horrible pain.

With the nightmares and the fear. They had become a stranger in their own body. It didn't feel like they had control over themselves anymore. Although the hero was right, they couldn't help but feel like a lab rat.

"The point is...you're the only person who has survived them and if they find out you're alive..."

"A facility like this won't hold them back," the villain said. "It would be a minor inconvenience."

"I know, that's why-" the hero held up the document "-you just signed a request for special protection. With me being your caretaker."

Again, that sweet smile spread across their face but the villain didn't really know what that meant. Their poor heart skipped a few beats.

"Are you saying you'll be staying here?" The villain's neck started to heat up. Wasn't this a bit too much? Had they asked for too much? With the medication and the doctors...wasn't this too much effort for the hero to put in?

"I am saying you're coming with me if this gets approved. Which it will."

"Like, to your house?"

"Yes, darling." The hero leaned back in their chair and took in a deep breath. "I've been working on this ever since I found you. I knew the agency wouldn't let you recover in a prison that easily. I argued that you're a victim and a source of information. That brought you here. But still, they made you work in here which I argued to be counterproductive. The law department is pretty annoyed by me."

"I...I'm not sure what to say," the villain said. Their head was reeling. Maybe everything would be a little easier. Maybe waking up would be easier. Were they actually dreaming? They could be out of here soon?

"You don't have to say anything." The hero stood up and walked up to them. Once they were closer to the villain, they sat down on the table, looking down at them. "I just need you to rest."

"You didn't have to do this," the villain said. Their voice was shaking. "You didn't have to save me again."

"I can't help it. By the way, we have matching scars, did you notice that? I can't just leave you in here."

"You suck," the villain said, but there were tears in their eyes. The relief they felt was indescribable. This place was alright. The people were alright. But they weren't the hero. They weren't comforting. With their chair, they moved closer towards them. "You're so horrible."

They leaned their head against the hero's arm, too tired and overwhelmed to hold up the weight of their head anymore. Quickly, the hero went through their hair with their fingers, holding their jaw in their hands and guiding them to lay their head on their lap.

"Oh, honey..." They played with the villain's hair and scratched their scalp softly. Their fingers went over the villain's face, carefully avoiding their bruises. "I promise I will take care of you."

They stayed like this until visiting hours were over.

#something something comfort person #ye I lied I couldnt help but write something #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #request #an answer for an ask #h/c

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charlesf1leclerc · 1 year ago

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Summary: Christmas morning and surprises in the Leclerc family.

Warnings : suggestive content but no smut

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY. Hope you all have a wonderful day with your family or whoever’s you are celebrating with. I wish you all the happiness and hope that this fic serves as a little gift from me to you. Xx

It was all quite to begin with. But that would never last long especially on Christmas morning. You and Charles were close to each other in bed Charles had his arm around your waist. You were both sound asleep. Until..

The sound of footsteps came from down the hallway then your door opened and the there was the shaking and the sound of voices.

“ wake up , he came he came”

Your groaned and rolled back in your pillow you knew Christmas was exciting and you weren’t annoyed at your babies but sometimes you liked your sleep.

Charles arm slipped from around your waist as he rolled over to look at the three kids standing on his side of the bed.

“ who came? “ he asked obviously teasing them.

“ SANTA papa “ Sicily screeched

“ presents!” Remy yelled

“ ok ok shall we go downstairs and see what he brought” Charles said moving to get up

“Yes!” All the kids ran downstairs.

“ Darling “ Charles shook you and you rolled over to face him as you obviously hadn’t gone back to sleep.

“Come on let’s go downstairs I’ll make you some coffee” he laughed

You groaned but got up out of bed as you wanted to spend this morning with your children. He then wrapped his arms around and gave you a kiss on the head as you both went downstairs.

By the time you had all gotten downstairs and you and Charles were settled on the couch your three children were ripping into their piles of presents. With many different new toys coming out from the wrapping paper. With the occasion shrieks of joy and the show and tell to you and Charles. As well as the numerous demands of “open it papa” only for the toy to be unboxed then left behind to unwrap more presents.

“ Santa really spoiled you guys this year” you smiled as you watched Remy play with his new dinosaur toy on the ground, Indy inspecting her new roller skates , and Sicily with some slime that was in her stocking.

“ what about you mama and papa what did Santa bring you” Sicily asked.

“ Santa dosent come to adults “ Indy said in a obvious way

“ that’s right but it’s ok because mama and papa got each other presents “ Charles smiled.

You had been nervous about one of Charles presents for the late couple of days as you had been feeling off for awhile so you decided to take a test, a pregnancy test. It came back positive. Of course nothing was planned but you were sure Charles would be just as happy and supportive as all the other times.

“ merry Christmas my love” Charles handed you a pile of gifts and leant over to kiss you on the lips

“ ewww “ Indy and Sicily groaned , as Charles replied by sticking his tongue out at them.

The first gift was a refill of the perfume you wear every day and could never get enough of. The next gift was a beautiful silver bracket with a love heart and engraved in the heart was a I, S , R and C. And then the final box made him smirk and you were immediately suspicious of what was in there. When you opened it you immediately put the items back in the box closing the lid and giving Charles a death glare.

“ in-front of the kids Charles”

“ something special for you and me “ he smirked proud of the silk set within the box

“You are such a teenage horny boy”

“ ok my turn” you sang as you passed him his pile of gifts

You were getting more excited at sharing the news with him.

He opened the two first gifts revealing some clothes as he was in need of some more suitable day wear they wasn’t carry blue and white tye dye jeans, next was new AirPods and a new travel set of mini suitcases for race weekend. Then he finally came to the final box, the box which contained the next chapter of your lives. He slowly opened it and revealed the stick from under the tissue paper.

“ what’s this mon amour” you just continued to stare at him.

He picked it up examining it closer. Then his eyes grew wide

“No” he looked at you

You just nodded your head smiling

“ your pregnant!”

“ yeah”

“Cherie” he smiled leaning over to kiss your lips and hug you. Then leaning to put his hand on your stomach.

“ this is amazing , the best Christmas gift”

“Surprising this is your fault for not being able to keep your hands off me” you laughed as his hand was still on your stomach

“ you’re just irresistible Cherie” he kissed you again.

“ 4 kids we are really outnumbered now”

“ we’ll be okay” and you believed him you would be ok

“ what did you get papa” Sicily asked as now the two youngest kids were standing in-front of him

“ well mama is pregnant there’s gonna be another baby” he smiled

“ yay! A new girl” Sicily shriek alerted the youngest who didn’t quite understand the idea of a new baby

“ well we don’t know if it’s a girl baby” you laughed

“ well I know it is “ she smiled going back to her toys

Charles looked at Remy picking him up , placing him on his lap then snuggling further into you basking in the fact that it was Christmas and the fact a new baby was on the way. It was all ok though for now you would bask in the comfort of your family of 5 before next year the family would grow and Christmas will become even more special.

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eddiesxangel · 1 year ago

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Fuck the Nice List| Santa!Eddie x Reader

Smutty Part 2 of Hey, Mr. Claus

Cw smut, Eddie is dressed as Santa for your nieces and nephews and you can’t keep your hands to yourself. Minors DNI

The night was wrapping up as you and all your loved ones were gathered around the Christmas tree at your brothers' house. It was the first Christmas you were spending with your new boyfriend, Eddie, and he wanted to make a good impression on your family. So, he volunteered to dress as Santa for the younger ones. He already had experience from his Mall Santa job and thought it would be a way to get into your family's good books.

You heard a rustling of wrapping and tissue paper as the kids were getting squirmy and anxious to see who was coming around the corner.

“HO HO HO! Merry Christmas!” Eddie belted in his lower register voice when he played the character. As he entered the living room, a sack of presents filled with gifts your family had bought prior was slung around his shoulder.

Many high-pitched cheers of joy pierced your ears as the young ones screamed. They all ran up to Santa Eddie, not knowing it was the man they sat beside at dinner. He had put much effort into his appearance to make it more believable.

His hair was tucked away into his hat that had a long white curly wig underneath it. A long, white, silky beard was attached to his face, and some makeup made him look a bit older and rosie.

Eddie sat and listened to each child on what they wanted, and then he gave them a single gift. He was attentive and aware of how important it was to each child. This would live in their memories forever. The “real” Santa was here just for them on Christmas Eve! What else could they want?

The way Eddie was being so good with the kids of your family was making you feel things. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your palms sweaty, and your lower belly area felt much warmer than it should at a family function. You couldn't wait to get your hands on the man you were falling for.

“When’s it my turn, Mr. Claus?” You bat your eyes at your boyfriend once you are alone.

Your siblings went to get their children ready for bed. Everyone was spending the night at your brothers' house so you could spend Christmas Day together as a family.

“Don’t tell me this is what you’re into, Sugar Plum?” He asked as you walk towards him

“So what if it is? You don’t wanna unwrap me like one of your presents?” You tug at his beard to bring his head down lower to kiss. “I think you’re going to like what’s inside,” you whisper seductively.

“You wanna ride on Santa’s sleigh?” Santa Eddie smirked as you ran your hands up his chest to his shoulders.

“More like his North Pole...”

Eddie groans as he lets his head fall back before grabbing your hand and guiding the both of you to your shared bedroom for the evening.

“I can’t believe you’re going to seduce me into fucking you at your family’s house.” He tugged you into the guest room and shut the door quietly, not to alert the others.

“Oh please, seducing you? All I have to do is breathe, and you want to fuck me,” you laugh before Eddie shuts you up with a searing kiss.

“Get undressed,” Eddie demanded before taking off his suit.

“Wait! Keep that on,” you smirk.

“Oh, so we are doing this?” He points between you and himself.

You bite your lip and nod, letting your dress fall.

Eddie’s eyes went wide as he examined your figure. You had on a matching lacy red set. The push-up bra hugged your breasts, and the panties sculpted your ass to look like the perfect little sugar plum.

Eddie backs up and plops on the edge of the bed without breaking his gaze. He was practically drooling at the sight of you.

“Come on, Snow Angel. Come sit on Santa’s lap and tell me what you want for Christmas.” Eddie bites his lip, beckoning you over.

You walk over and straddle Santa Eddie’s lap, draping both legs over his knees, landing your lacy cunt down on his already hardening cock. Eddie grips your ass, and you lean your weight into him.

“I want you to fill me with your cum this Christmas.” You whispered in his ear before nibbling on the lobe.

“Fuuuuuuuck baby you can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not? You asked me what I wanted. I’ve been a good girl this year I promise.” You pout.

“I don’t know about that Sugar Plum? I’ve heard from the elf’s that you’ve been naughty.” Eddie bit at your neck as your hips began to grind down in your boyfriend’s lap. “You you’re going to do everything I say to make sure you really are a good girl.”

“Yes, Santa. I’ll do anything to get on your nice list.” You drop your head to kiss Eddie’s plump lips. Well, you at least tried to because the fake beard got in the way.

“Ok, this has to go,” you laugh as Eddie removes the synthetic beard from his face.

“Oh, thank god,” he mumbles before peppering kisses all over your chest and breasts.

“Fucking perfect,” Eddie mumbles as he presses his face into your cleavage and takes in your sent. You smell of cinnamon, ginger and pine needles.

“Mmmmm baby,” you moan as you grip the back of his head, keeping his face in your chest.

“You wanna lick Santa’s special candy cane?” Eddie smirked.

You slinked down his body, and he unbuttoned his suit jacket. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and you couldn’t help but run your hands up and down his naked torso. Your eyes soaked him in as he undid his pants.

“Mmmm, I bet it’s the sweetest.” You ran your hand up and down the tented fabric of his boxers.

“No more teasing. You wanna get on Santa’s nice list, don’t ya? Open up a nice big present tomorrow morning?” Eddie bites his bottom lip.

“Yes, Santa,” you pull his big cock out and give the tip a lick.

“Good girl, good fuckn’ girl.” Eddie stroked your head as you took him entirely into your mouth.

You take as much of him as you can in your mouth before gagging. The weight of his velvety shaft was so soft on your tongue. You loved giving Eddie head; it made you so wet every time without fail.

“Fuck you’re way too good at this. I’m going to bust already,” he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Mmmmmmm,” you hum at the compliment and continue to bob and suck on his cock.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he pulls your head up so he doesn’t explode right then and there. He pulls you up into a deep, long kiss as he goes to lay back on the bed. You followed his lead and hovered over top of him. You graze your sopping clothed cunt over Eddie’s bare cock as you adjust your weight.

Eddie hissed as he felt the pool of wet heat graze his cock. “You wanna take that ride now, baby?” Eddie moaned.

“Yes,” you sigh, and you feel Eddie’s hand pull your panties to the side.

“You gotta work for it, Sugar Plum; show Santa how good you can be,” he cooed as he curled your clit with a gloved finger.

“Fuck” you sigh, and you grind your hips harder on Eddie's cock.

“What did I say about teasing? You naughty little elf,” Eddie gritted out.

“M’sorry Santa, maybe I wanna be your naughty girl.” You continue to grind your hips back and forth from his base to tip.

“That’s it!” Eddie couldn't take it anymore. He flips the two of you over so you’re flat on your back.

“No more playing around. Santa needs his milk and cookies” Eddie ripped your panties right off, and before you knew what was happening, his muscular tongue was entering your wet hole, and his bright red nose was nudging at your clit.

“Fuck baby,” you whispered, trying not to disturb the rest of the house. He sat up and replaced his tongue with two fingers. You’re not even sure when he removed the white gloves.

“Mmm, best cookie I’ve tasted all year,” he mused, and your pussy clenched.

“Oh, you like it when I compliment your cookie, don’t you?” He massaged his fingers inside you, making your hips jerk up.

“Baby, please,” you begged.

“Naughty girls have to wait, baby; only good girls on the nice list get what they want” His thumb curled your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Baby fuck, I’m close,” you wined, and Eddie pulled away.

“Oh, she’s learning.”

“Baby I was so close-”

“Naughty girls only get to come when it’s on my cock.” He aligns himself up to your entrance.

“Fuck your so hot.” Eddie leaned down to kiss you. He kissed you hard, and it made your head spin.

Eddie slipped his tongue into your mouth, and at the same time, he slipped in his cock. You never got tired of the way Eddie stretched you out every time. He never failed to make you feel full. He knew how to take over your body. The way he would numb your mind, how he could literally fuck you dumb. You hadn't been together that long with Eddie. Only a month, really, but the way he knows your body, it was like he was made for you.

"Oh, you like that Sugar Plum? Do you like Santa's fat cock splitting you open? I wish you could see it, baby, the way your pussy swallows my cock is perfection." You must have been making noises of pleasure because you were already lost in your own little world of euphoria, and he had just started.

"Answer me, Sugar Plum. Tell me how much you like this cock." his hips slowed down in pace but never stopped. He will wait for your answer.

"I- fuck- I love it-ohhhhhhh," you cried as his head grazed your g spot.

"There's my good girl." Eddie's pace quickened. His hand ran up to massage your breast, still confined by the lacy red bra.

Your pussy clamped down at his words; you loved when he called you his god girl. It never fails to make your body tingle.

As his cock continuously slides against your g spot, your body tenses up at the oncoming orgasm Eddie is about to give you.

"More, please, I'm so close," You beg. You were so close to the euphoria that you would do anything for Eddie now.

"Sucha good girl letting me know. and you know what good girls get?" Eddie continues to thrust into your cunt while reaching down to open your legs up wider for him so that he could rub your clit. The new angle was just what you needed.

You quickly nod to Eddie's question before your body is ripped with a rush of serotonin.

"That's right, baby, they get what they ask for. Come, baby, you're doing so good for me." He talked you through your orgasm.

He followed not too far after you, finishing inside like you had asked. You loved it when Eddie came in you. He'd hug you close as he trusted his hips deep into your body that you felt so connected. Like you were made for one another. It didn't matter if the sex was silly or serious; you knew your souls were meant to be intertwined.

"I didn't know I had that many dirty Christmas analogies in me," Eddie laughed, shucking off the fluffy white and red suit jacket that made him a sweat bucket.

"And now I have one more in me." you laugh, and Eddie can't help but fall in love with you.

Part 3

tag list: @allthingsjoeq @bettyfrommars @battymunson @onegirlmanytales @slutty-thevampireslayer @leelei1980 @tlclick73 @reidsbtch

#IM SORRY FOR THE CHEESY CHRISTMAS LINES I COULDNT HELP MYSELF #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab reader #santa!eddie munson #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson christmas imagine #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson concept #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction

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newkatzkafe2023 · 1 month ago

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The monkey Kings reaction to meeting teen Titans nya nya reader. Human turning into pink tigeress demon. Good combat skills

(Not sure if you know who I'm talking about 😅)

Ohhhhhhhhhh I remember that Girl, she kicked beast boys butt🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

youtube

(Lmk Wukong) Man you were so cute and unsuspecting can you imagine the shock he felt when he saw your demon form. He met you at a karaoke bar Mk invited him too as he just watched him and Mei have fun, until he noticed a small stare. He looked over to see you giggling making him blush and you came over to talk to him and you both hit it off. After dating for a over a year You trusted him enough to show him your full demon form, which was of course a monkey cat hybrid. What you didn't expect was for him to Squeal so hard he fall over, due to how adorable you are, at least you don't freak him out😅🤣

(NR Wukong) This dude was definitely flirting with you, when you both met. He purred and gave you all kinds of nicknames the one standing out most of all was Kitten, he met you when Li and Su had dragged him to a karaoke bar downtown donghai. You were on stage singing to a crowd already dancing like a cat, making him cat call you from across the bar. You giggled and finished your song, now found yourself being wooed by an older monkey man. It wasn't until a few months of dating was when he found out about your actual Kitty form, you wasted know time beating up those guys whom tried to mug you. Well let's just say your new name is now curvy kitty 😉😉😉

(HIB Wukong) Oh yeah he's absolutely baffled by this discovery especially when you were a surprisely good fighter. He was not at all expecting you to keep up with him in a fight, it was a interesting experience. You both met at a tea shop where he was buying stuff for the children when you came up and talked to him. Wukong sighed as he just listened to you, already getting use to getting that from Luier But it was because of your boldness that you both were close. It was until one day you went to see him and saw he was getting attacked by some demons by his house, your feline form was show as you shredded though those guys like tissue paper. At the end Wukong was both impressed and getting smothered with affection now.

(MKR Wukong) Did not like you at all at first, especially with the unsuspecting ass whooping he and pigsy got from you. It was all pigsy's fault too!!!! you were a young woman doing her shopping and Pigsy would not go away, so you turned and insult pigsy telling him you wouldn't date a lard tub of lard which made Wukong get pissed because only he can insult pigsy. The exchange quickly got heated by no time and Wukong was getting sick of the bull and was ready to fight you more, but you changed into your cat form and beat up both of them in Broad daylight. since then Wukong hasn't stopped following you, both demanding for a rematch and a date🤣😤

(Netflix Wukong) YOU ARE SOOOOO CUTE HE COULD DIE SOMEHOW 🤩🥰. His favorite thing about you are you ear and he just loves to pet and scratche behind them. Your cat demon for was beautiful, soft and adorable and he loves more then ever when you bring it out. He also loves to have sparring sessions with you as a date and for you both to train together. He also loves to cuddle you despite the ink marks you would rarely leave.

(BMW Wukong) He was admittedly impressed and surprised by your true beauty he'll give you that, but I feel he would underestimate you.he would tease you with cat toys, red dots and tuna. the final straw being when he gave you a bag of catnip you got so angry he got to see your full, curvy, fierce demon form before you gave his ass a black Bruise for each eye. Ever since then he got right away of flirting and trying to court you, after being used as your Scratching post.

(Destined one) He discovers something new everyday especially when he discovered you, you were super cute and knew how to fight people on sight with those beautiful sharp claws. The Destined one was definitely blushing whenever you would kiss and lick his face trying to groom and clean him. The Destined one would also be mortified but also kinda impressed That you were able to single handily take him down. He would love to discover more about you though your dates🥰

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🐈

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #x female y/n #monkey king hero is back #black myth wukong #the destined one x reader #Cat girl #teen titans #Teen titans Tokyo

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starhvney · 8 days ago

Text

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝟏𝟔: 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐂𝐖: um... more violence and mentions of traumatic injuries, cussing but like how offensive is that in comparison to the other stuff at this point

𝐀/𝐍: oh snap it’s going down (intense traumatic experiences)

𝐖𝐂: 4,600+

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: the one, the onlyyyy @arienic !!! *blows airhorn*

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

laughter carries through the air, the mix of everyone’s joyous voices in the room warming your chest the same way your hot chocolate warmed your hands. you settle back into the ro'meaves’ couch, the worn-in material allowing you to sink into the cushions where you were lodged between lucinda and dante.

“okay!” aphmau squeals, clapping her hands excitedly in the center of the room. “it’s time to exchange the secret santa gifts!”

you’re perfectly content where you sit, though, with a soft smile on your face as you glance around the room. everyone was bundled up in their sweaters and cozy pajamas, excitedly getting up to give and receive their gifts and giggling as they bumped into each other. oh, you suppose you should get up when lucinda’s hand grasps onto your arm to help you along with her, the mature scent of her perfume wafting along your face and the tinkling of her bracelets pleasantly gracing your ears.

“c’mon, sweetie. you can’t fall asleep now,” she coos playfully.

“i wasn’t! just enjoying the moment,” you defend, only earning a teasing look from her in response before she prances off with an amused huff.

you shake your head, chuckling quietly to yourself as you pick up vylad’s gift, shuffling around the crowd and earning a hair ruffle from dante and a nose pinch from teony as you go, the two of them being the touchiest of your friends as always. not that you minded—coming from anyone in this room. you kind of enjoyed that you were close enough to them for them to want to casually reach out to you in a sudden burst of affection. it was cute.

vylad immediately turns to look down at you with a dimpled grin as you hold out your gift, giving you a grateful nod. “hey! merry christmas.”

“merry christmas,” you return, shuffling on your feet as he starts to open his gift, starting to feel a bit nervous if he’d like it.

his face lights up as he opens the box, mouth cracking open in surprise as he reaches in, pulling out the 35mm camera film bundle you got. “woah, there’s so much! and a calligraphy set too?”

“yeah… sorry i didn’t get as much film because it can get kind of expensive… but i thought i’d get you something you’d use the most.”

“no, no, don’t apologize. this is perfect!” he insists, his voice full of genuine thankfulness. “how did you even know i liked all of this? or what kind of camera i had?”

“i totally interrogated your mom about what kind of camera you had. shout out to zianna,” you laugh. “i remember you talking about liking photography and how you liked to write, so…”

“wow. i’m not secretive but i didn’t realize i was that easy to read,” he muses, wrapping an arm around your shoulder for a hug. “you really put a lot of thought and effort into this, i can tell. this is so awesome.”

“aw, i’m really glad you liked it.” you sheepishly return the hug before stepping back again.

“i more than like it, i love it. thanks!”

a gentle tap on your shoulder diverts your attention from the heartfelt scene you were in. nana gives you a sweet smile when you turn to her, her eyes forming into crescents as she presents a rather large pink gift bag with a cute snowman on it.

“hi! i was your secret santa,” she giggles as if it weren’t obvious.

“oh! thank you, nana.” you smile, taking the bag from her as she bounces expectantly on her toes.

“go ahead and open it!” she ushers, tail swishing behind her, the tiny jingle bell on the bow she used to decorate it tinkling.

you laugh lightly as you appease her demands, pulling out the tissue paper to reveal quite an array of gifts.

“so, i remember you mentioning you thought the cookie cutters i had were super cute when we were making those sweets for everyone… so i got you some! and—and those are some earrings that reminded me of you, and—oh! that’s a blanket with kitties on it,” she rambles, pointing out each thing with a shimmer in her eyes. “that’s a cute journal i got for you because we had talked about how you wanted to start writing down your favorite memories so you never forgot them. remember?”

“wow, nana. you didn’t have to get all this for me…” you murmur, mouth agape as you admire the hardcover journal in your favorite color, its pages glinting gold around the edge.

“of course i did! you were one of the first people to actually care about me and try to become my friend at the school.” she rocks on her heels, hands folding behind her back. “you mean a lot to me, so i wanted your gift to be special.”

pulling in a big breath, you swallow thickly, overwhelmed by the affection poured onto you. your friends’ laughter buzzes in your ears as you reel in the moment, eyes wide. “thank you, so much… you mean a lot to me, too.”

“but, um…” she murmurs your name, face turning gravely serious. “i have to tell you something.”

strange. this isn’t how you remember this going.

“if you want to come back to us, you have to wake up.”

“…what?”

“wake up.”

a sharp inhale through your lungs pulls a veil of darkness over your eyes, replaced by a gray ceiling. there’s no warm laughter, no welcoming fireplace; just the cold, damp room you’ve been forced into for who knows how long now. your fingers dance across the thin sheets, chasing after the ghost of warm hands encasing yours, only to be met with the scratchy material irritating your skin.

your neck hurts; externally as you reach up to feel a crusted-over bandage, and internally as a lump forms inside. vision blurs and fingers tremble as a pathetic sob wracks your chest, the choked noise of pain echoing in the empty room. turning on your side, you gasp for air, your breaths tight and panicked. you can move again, you realize, but when you attempt to sit up and stand your body gives out on you and sends you sprawling onto the hard tile floor. using what little strength you have, you use your arms to drag yourself to the bars of your cell, grasping the bars and resting your cheek on the rusted metal.

tears pour down your face while your chest heaves unevenly, soaking into the gauze on your neck and staining your dirtied clothes. weakly, you lift your hand again, realizing through your hazy eyes how thin and pale you’d gotten. you’d been fully drained, your body pulling whatever it could from your muscles and bones just to keep your heart beating. more cries leave your lips as you reach up to your neck once again, tugging at its tight constraints with an angry cry. as it loosens with an uncomfortable crack from your skin a wave of fear washes over you, freezing you in place.

what if your head fell?

short breaths are sucked in through your mouth as you try not to move, slowly loosening the bandages again until they finally give free, unraveling onto your lap. you stay still for a few moments, staring at the dark red below you, before reaching up to feel where the blade had been lined against your neck. there it is: an indent, perfectly horizontal, reaching across where your jugular was.

she must not have completely beheaded you. if she did, would you not have woken up?

a feeling of utter hopelessness creeps into your veins starting from your hands and feet until it spills out in the form of more tears, a piteous weep leaving your lips. none of this makes sense to you. not the pain… not anything she said about your parents… or the man… or men behind it…? she mentioned two, didn’t she? no, no that’s not what she said…

not what she said about…

not what she said…

no.

what exactly did she tell you?

why can’t you remember it?!

there was something important! information you had to keep if you got out of here! what is it?!

“what happened…” you hiccup, lungs catching and stopping, breaths hiccuping. “what did you…”

your fingers dig into the metal, pressing uncomfortably into your bones as you manage some strength in your lungs and scream at him, “what did you do to me?!”

the muscles in your throat strain in protest, cracking your words as they echo in the empty corridor. raspy coughs leave your throat as your remaining strength gives out and you go limp where you sit. it’s a few minutes like this—maybe even an hour—before quiet footsteps slowly make their way toward your cell. you don’t bother looking up, only acknowledging who it is when someone kneels down by the door. black jeans, a dark blue shirt… it matches his hair.

he watches you from the side of his eye as he sets down a tray, sliding it under the door. when he moves to get up again, he hesitates, as if there's something he needs to say.

“please kill me,” you rasp, making him jump as he whips his head over to you, his eyes darting down to your fingers where they grasp onto his wrist. “just kill me. i can’t do it again.”

he gives you a look, eyes widening and lip curling. you can’t tell what it is. pity? disgust?

this is the first time you've really looked at him up close. a few scars litter his skin, his steel gray eyes startlingly harsh through his dark lashes. his nostrils flare as he pulls away from your touch, standing and backing away as he looks down on your miserable slumped form.

“i can’t,” he mutters. “but… i wouldn’t bite into your food too hard.”

you stare up at him, confusion muddling your features.

“and wait until dusk. that’s two hours from now.”

he turns on his heel and stalks away, glancing back at you once more over his back before quickly running back up the wooden staircase, leaving you alone as fast as he had appeared.

don’t bite into your food too hard.

the tray is by your feet, nothing but a pile of mush on it. you’re not sure what kind of food it’s supposed to be, but it most definitely wasn’t crunchy or solid. shakily, you reach out to the tray and pull it into your lap, hesitantly hovering your fingers over it.

what are you doing…

wriggling your fingers down into the semi-warm substance, they soon meet the cold center where a metal object is buried inside. your eyebrows pinch together when you pull it out, shaking the food away to reveal a… key. did he just…?

he gave you the key to the cell. he’s helping you escape.

two hours from now.

“thank you,” you whisper to the void, even if you know the boy is long gone.

would he be punished for this? a part of you worries for him, but the selfish want for self-preservation has those thoughts pushed to the back of your mind, replaced by the memory of warm arms around your shoulders. you had to get back. this wasn’t the end. you didn’t have to die here. a joyful weep wobbles from your lips, as you begin to count the seconds. how many are in two hours?

one mississippi… two mississippi…three…

eight hundred and thirty-three…

five thousand six hundred and twenty-seven…

seven thousand two hundred.

you had eaten the plate of food to the best of your abilities, despite its bland taste and rather disgusting texture. it was like southern grits, but if it were slimy and void of any good flavor. still, you stomached it, and it at least gave you the strength to stand up on your legs without falling. your breathing was labored from the effort, but you had to do this, and you had to do it now.

nimbly sliding your fingers through the door’s bars, you fix the key into the lock and twist, a satisfying click meeting your ears as the door gives way to your weight leaning on it. it squeaks in the silent hallway, and for a moment you stand completely still as it swings all the way open.

you were free.

run. run run run run run run!

you take off towards the wooden stairs, careful to keep on your tiptoes, sliding your feet across the stone to make less noise as you go. slowing down at the wooden stairs, you’re careful to make a minimal amount of creaks as you ascend them, holding your breath as you listen closely to the floor above. there’s no talking, no shuffling or movement. did they go somewhere else?

at the top of the stairs, there's a wooden door. quiet prayers for it to be unlocked leave your lips as you approach it, and you have to stop yourself from letting out a cry of relief when it is, opening up to a dimly lit, huge room.

you were in a log cabin, though a mansion seems more suitable as a title. tall windows span up to the ceiling on one wall, overlooking a familiar scene of a forest. plush couches and red carpets littered the large space, setting up what was an over-the-top lounge room.

tentatively, you walk out from the doorway, looking up to realize it was somewhat hidden behind a staircase. the place seemed empty, but you sure weren’t going to stick around to find out. the only thing you can hear is your uneven breaths as you make your way to two large red doors, hands shaking as you push the heavy wood open. the sound of crickets beginning to chirp and fresh air enveloping your face is overwhelming, making your shaky steps stutter in place as you stare out at the tall trees ahead.

looking around, the coast is still clear. was what ein told you a red herring? this seemed too easy. running out to the empty driveway, you step beyond the pavement toward a nearby cliffside, looking over the forest beyond. there was nothing else in sight for miles, except for…

a tall lookout tower in the distance.

your face blanches, and the small amount of nutrients you had in your stomach comes rushing back up your throat in an instant. they were that close to you the whole time.

sputtered coughs leave your lips as you lean forward, hands resting on your knees while black spots your vision. what if they were just letting you go now? have you never been in control this whole time? not since the moment you moved? since the moment you were born? is there any point in escaping this?

there’s no time to delay anymore though, not when you’re taking off again towards the driveway, cutting into the treeline where you’re sure the road led off to. your lungs burn as they try to keep up with your legs, your throat barely taking in enough oxygen for you to stay conscious. you feel like you’re out of your body, merely spectating a memory as you weave through trees. your face feels cold and numb, and you vaguely feel the pain of your bare feet getting scraped and stabbed by the forest floor. black is beginning to spot your vision and the next moment your toe catches on a root, sending you tumbling down a steep hill with a sudden cry.

rolling to a stop, you gasp for air, yet none comes as panic continues to riddle your lungs.

“...you mean a lot to me…”

it feels like warm hands are lifting you, urging you to keep going, and as you stumble forward you realize you’ve made it to the road. warm asphalt meets your feet as you continue to try and catch your breath. the sun had set by now, disorienting any sense of direction you may have had in the first place.

as soon as your vision clears, you’re blinded by headlights and the screeching of rubber against the road—

you're sent flying, your hands painfully scraping as you land on your back. it feels like you’re dying, lungs on the verge of collapsing. even if it was your captors, you don’t think you could run or even crawl away, the stars in the sky beginning to spin and melt above you and the noise of the world around you turning into warbled echoes.

“oh my… is that… missing… girl that… gene… with.” a woman appears above you. you can’t make out her features. “holy shit… logan! call… help! …hospital…!”

“help,” you gasp. in a last attempt at freedom, you grasp onto her shirt.

“shh… you’re… okay, hun… safe…”

a tall man looming over the both of you is the last thing you see. strong arms lift you from the jagged ground; the bitter, metallic scent of your blood is the last thing you sense before the terrifying freedom of darkness overtakes you.

☆

over a week. it’s almost been two.

garroth stares blankly at the empty fireplace, stuck in the same position he’d sat in hours ago. he chews at the inside of his cheek again, wincing when he draws blood this time.

there's no telling where you are now or what’s happened to you. and it's all his fault. if he’d just walked with you down the sidewalk. it was two houses down. only two. that careless decision took you from him and everyone else who cared about you.

when you come back… if you do… he wouldn’t blame you if you hated him. if you never wanted to talk to him again, or even look at him. he deserved your resentfulness. he wouldn’t even mind it if it just meant you were back safe.

“hello?” zianna’s voice carries from the kitchen, her tone indicating she’d picked up a phone call.

vylad shifts from where he sat on the other side of the couch, turning down the volume of the tv that had been playing mindless background noise to his and garroth’s thoughts. his head turns to better hear their mother’s voice, only to flinch when the shattering of porcelain on the floor and a sharp gasp from the woman breaks the silence.

“where is she?”

garroth swallows, eyes widening before shooting up from his spot, sprinting into the kitchen and nearly crashing into the counter. he's gripping onto the marble top as he stares down his mom—the woman leaning back into the corner with a face void of color. her sweet, green eyes are glossy with tears, hand reaching out to zane whose eye flicks between her and the shattered plate in concern. for once, he looks to his two brothers without malice or annoyance, instead holding zianna’s hand with care as he leans in to overhear the other end of the line.

“and she’s okay?” she whimpers, shaking her head as she looks around, attempting to move. “where? where?”

garroth sucks in air, only just realizing he’d been holding his breath before rushing to his mom, lifting her over the shards threatening to slice her bare feet. she dashes over to snatch her keys up from the hallway table, sliding her feet into some sandals by the door—before stopping in the doorway, and turning to face her sons once again.

“i’m headed there now.”

as soon as the phone is pulled away from her face, questions hastily tumble from their mouths.

“she?”

“did they find her?”

“where are you going?”

she covers her mouth, pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to pull herself together in front of the kids. they were only kids. she was only a kid.

“yes—she—” she clears her throat, wiping at her bare face. “they found her. she’s in a hospital an hour from here. i’m headed there now—”

“i’m going!” garroth interrupts, startling the woman and making her jump in place.

“yes… all of you can come. i’m not even—” she waves them forward, pausing by the mirror and beginning to fix her hair—before shaking her head, footsteps quick as she goes off to the garage door. “just get in the car, boys. i need to call garte…”

all three of the boys follow, the youngest boy pulling out his phone and sending off a text as they scramble for their seats in the suv. zianna’s hands tremble as she starts the key in the ignition.

vylad: they found her.

laurance: wait what?

katelyn: please don’t tell me you’re lying

lucinda: is she okay?

travis: where???

nicole: which hospital???????

dante: are you serious? did they find her just now?

aphmau: she’s at nahakra hospital

teony: can we see her?

laurance: i don’t care i’m going anyway

nana: i’m crying please tell me she’s okay

aphmau: i don’t know there’s no details yet

katelyn: i’m going too

aphmau sent a location.

“mom.” zane’s voice cuts across the near-silent car. “it’s night. you’re driving crazy.”

zianna clears her throat as she slows down, and when garroth glances over she quickly wipes her face again, shaking her head. “i’m sorry boys, i’m just—oh, that poor baby. please, please let her be okay.”

the drive there is a long one, both having stretched on for far too long and blurring together in garroth’s memory as they now sit in the small hospital’s lobby.

“we can’t go see her at all?” sylvanna presses. the poor receptionist who they'd been badgering for the past hour shifts in her seat.

“i’m sorry, ma'am. all i can tell you is that she is alive and stable. but i can’t give you details or let you through unless you’re family.”

“she is family.”

“...i’m sorry. please understand i can’t do anything more until a doctor gives the clear. you can take a seat and have some refreshments until then.”

katelyn sighs, shifting as she glances at the analog clock above her. nana and aphmau let their heads bobble against her shoulders as she moves, hands clutched onto each other, exchanging words of worry that didn’t leave their lips.

12:40 am.

“no, man. they’re not even letting us see her,” laurance mutters into the phone, sighing tensely. “yeah, just come tomorrow if you want… yeah, i’ll text. yeah. bye.”

“was that dante?” aphmau shifts her head, voice quiet.

“yeah. his mom won’t drive him this late and he was trying to get… gene to come back from out of town to get him here.” his lips sour at the name, but he seems too tired to dwell on his own reservations. “...i think teony and lucinda won’t be coming until tomorrow, too.”

“makes sense…” nana rubs her swollen eyes, her nose still red. “the only reason i could come is 'cause aphmau picked me up.”

travis is uncharacteristically quiet, eyes round and knees hugged to his chest as he stares at the adults in the room.

following travis' line of sight, garroth glances over at the receptionist's desk. even his dad was here… his arm wrapped around zianna’s hunched shoulders as they exchanged hushed whispers with travis’s dad and… two people he’d never met before. aphmau had said something about aaron’s parents earlier, seeming confused herself, but why would they be here? or travis’s dad, for that matter… and what could the group of them possibly have so much to talk about so secretly and with such intensity?

“...fuck this. i’m finding something out,” he mutters, earning a questioning look from laurance as he stands from his seat, slowly making his way to the stairway and slipping through the door, thankful for sylvanna’s distraction to the staff.

they mentioned that you're in a room on the third floor. his feet skip every other step as he huffs his way up the flights, stopping at the thin window and glancing inside with narrowed eyes. the coast is clear, so, after catching his breath, he pushes through the door, glancing around the hall. he can hear distant chatter around the corner, and recognizes the familiar cadence of your mom’s voice. a pang of guilt and shame runs through him, his eyes dropping to the tiled floor as he moves closer, listening to her despaired, hitched breaths.

“...yes ma’am. torn ligaments in her feet, a fractured wrist, pretty deep fissures on her whole body… it’s all healed. the stitches pushed out of her skin. i really have no way to explain this except for an ancient magic that hasn’t been used by anyone for a long time. this kind of practice would be…” the doctor clears his throat, pausing. “ah, but… aside from her external injuries, our biggest issue is what came back on her brain scan… and her blood results.”

“what is it?” a gruff voice urges.

“she had large amounts of midazolam in her system. it’s a sedative that can cause some serious issues with hallucinations and memory recollection if abused. judging by the scan, it seems like she had a pretty consistent flow of it, but there’s also not enough information to tell how much she's been affected by it, and how much damage it's done.”

garroth’s mouth curls, hand coming to cover his face as the blood drains from his face.

“and…” the doctor seems to be choosing his words carefully, voice gentle. “there's more. not only was she given large amounts of midazolam, but her brain shows signs that we would see in a person who went through something highly traumatizing. it’s likely she will suffer from dissociative amnesia among other ptsd symptoms. i can’t tell you how she will react when she wakes up, as it varies among each patient… but she will require a lot of psychiatric help. i don’t mean to make this worse, but this is the worst case i’ve ever seen.”

bile rises up garroth’s throat, and he’s forced to swallow as he slides down the sterile, white wall of the hospital hall. another choked weep leaves your mother’s lips, but not before the doctor speaks up again.

“but also…” he hesitates. “while her other injuries mysteriously have been healed, she has strange scarring on the upper half of her arms and legs, as well as a scar along her neck. they’re very precise. it's a quality that, in my personal opinion, one would expect from an experienced doctor… and when she arrived, the outfit she was wearing was a patient’s two-piece with the number three on it. we don’t have much other information as of yet.”

“oh god… this is all our… fault…” your mother incoherently babbles. “my baby… what have i done to you…”

“ma’am…?” the doctor sounds uncomfortable, confused. “i don’t…”

“please just leave us be for a moment.” your dad’s voice cracks.

a quick tap on garroth’s shoulder has the boy jumping out of his skin, whipping his head up to see the scolding face of a nurse peering down at him.

“young man… you know you aren’t supposed to be here,” she says, voice firm but eyes at the very least understanding as she keeps her voice at a whisper. “go back to the waiting room. you’ll get to see her eventually. okay?”

garroth swipes a hand over the back of his neck, the cold sweat making him shiver as he stands. his eyes are glassed over as he nods, stumbling back to the stairwell without another word.

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch @izzybella1807

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levisjinchuriki · 4 months ago

Text

forever yours - chapter 3

summary: seeing gojo show his true feelings only makes your decision harder

warning: so much angst, bring a tissue

word count: 3.7k

it had taken you a few weeks to speak to gojo again. he’d still pick up haru on the weekends and call him before bed, but you couldn't help but feel the tension between you. although he didn’t pressure you to say anything until you were ready, you could feel his expectant gaze on you every time he came to get your son.

gojo understood the weight of your decision and just how hard it would be for you either way you decided. he was true to his word, not bringing up the topic until you were ready.

you had stayed up most nights after the talk— thinking about what to say to him and contemplating on if it can actually work. you went back and forth in your head, driving yourself crazy and wondering if you really were for considering getting back together.

and a part of you- most of you- was truly scared. you were scared about the unknown, what would happen if you’d fail at trying to mend your relationship and for another heartbreaking experience. you’ve barely been surviving the first one. you’re scared how your relationship will change as parents if it doesn’t work out. you don’t want haru in the middle of something like that.

you made a decision to play it safe- to decline gojo’s offer out of the overwhelming fear in your heart and protection of haru’s childhood. it was more important to you that he be raised with two loving parents that can be civil to each other.

when gojo knocks on your door to drop off haru, you hold your breath. your son greets you happily and gojo gives him a big hug and a kiss goodbye before telling him to go play in his room.

you hold onto the door handle tightly, as if it’s your lifeline protecting you from your emotions. it was a hard decision to come to– one you’ve cried over for the last few nights– but the right one. at least, you hoped so.

“i’ve thought about what you’ve said”. your voice is tense as you fight through the pain. before you can inform him of your decision he interrupts you.

“i know you still have doubts about us– and that’s fair– but hopefully-” he reaches into his back pocket and places a stack of folded papers in your hand before continuing, “this will explain everything”.

you look down, confusion and nervousness swirling in your chest. for a moment, you think he’s signed the divorce papers and is returning back to you, and your heart sinks at the thought that he has given up on his promise before he has begun to fulfill it.

“what is this?” you ask, your voice wavering as you try to make sense of what you’re holding.

gojo doesn’t tell you directly, but you can see the intensity in his gaze, the silent plea for you to understand.

“just… read it when you’re ready,” he replies, his tone uncharacteristically serious. there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that you haven’t seen before, and it unnerves you.

you want to press for more, to demand an explanation right then and there, but something in his expression tells you to wait. with a nod, you accept the papers, holding them close as if they carry the weight of the decision you’ve been grappling with.

“okay,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“okay” he says softly. he gives you a small, almost hesitant smile. “i’ll see you soon”.

before you can respond, he’s already turning to leave. the encounter is so unexpected you don’t have time to react as you watch him go, feeling a mix of emotions swirl within you—fear and uncertainty being at the head of it. when the door clicks shut, you stand there for a moment, clutching the papers in your hand, your mind racing.

with curiosity tugging at you, you move towards the couch, sitting down as you carefully unfold the stack. your hands trembling slightly, the papers feeling heavy in your grasp.

your eyes widen at the sight as you flip through the pages. the familiar scrawl is unmistakably satoru’s. hundreds and hundreds of handwritten words cover the front and back of each sheet of paper.

there are a million things i want to say to you, but i’ll start with the most important: i’m sorry. i’m sorry for the pain i’ve caused you, for the times i wasn’t there when you needed me, and for all the ways i let you down. i’ve replayed those moments over and over in my mind, and the regret i feel is overwhelming.

somehow, in just a few sentences, gojo has managed to strike a nerve. you close your eyes, hands trembling as you place the note beside you. you can’t break down now—not with haru nearby. you still have to make him dinner and give him a bath, and those responsibilities demand your full attention.

you take a deep breath to steady yourself. the letter isn’t going anywhere. later, you tell yourself. when the house is quiet and you can afford to let your guard down, you’ll try again. you’ll let yourself feel everything that satoru’s words will bring to the surface.

for the rest of the evening, you focus intently on your son, letting his presence be a distraction from the anxiety you feel every time you think about the letter. you let his infectious laugh and sweet voice comfort you as he happily chatters about his weekend. and when you tuck him into bed and watch him fall asleep holding his stuffed animal, you can’t help but linger by his bed and brush the soft white hairs back from his forehead.

—

the morning goes by fast as you get haru ready for school. he excitedly tells you about his field trip to the aquarium today, his innocent enthusiasm a bittersweet reminder of the simplicity you’re trying to preserve. you smile and engage in conversation, encouraging him to name as many fish as he can think of during the drive. when he runs out of new ones, he starts to repeat ones he’s already said, making you laugh.

as you walk him to the entrance to greet his teachers you squeeze his hand before kneeling down to his level.

“have fun on your trip, baby. be good today, okay?”. you know he will be, he’s never given you trouble before. he smiles and nods at you.

“okay, mommy”. he wraps his arms around your neck and gives you a tight hug. you hum at the affection and squeeze him back before letting go. you quickly remind him that you put some money in his lunch box so he can get something at the gift shop later. you also make sure to inform his teacher of it before she takes him inside.

it’s not long before a knot of anxiety tightens in your gut. you know what awaits you at home. the drive back is a blur, your mind too consumed with your own thoughts to process the commute.

once you enter your home you wrap a blanket around your legs as you nestle on the couch. you’re sure to bring a box of tissues over, too, fully knowing that this will likely be an emotional experience. with a final moment of hesitation you slowly open the letter again.

i don’t know if you’ll ever understand how sorry i am or how much you mean to me. nothing i write could ever truly capture the depth of my feelings for you. i’ve spent countless nights lying awake, thinking about all the ways i failed you, and how i let us slip away. i’ve made so many mistakes, and i carry the weight of them every day. but more than anything, i carry the weight of losing you. i miss us—the way we used to be, the way we could have been if only i’d done things differently. i know i wasn’t the husband you deserved, and for that, i am deeply sorry.

you were—and still are—the most important person in my life. i took for granted the love we shared, and i let my own shortcomings drive a wedge between us. losing you has been the hardest thing i’ve ever had to face and i hate myself everyday for it. i know i have no right to ask this of you, but please… read these words knowing they come from the deepest part of my heart. i love you, and i’ll never stop loving you.

as you read, a profound sadness envelops you. you’re overwhelmed by the depth of his words as he continues in great detail of his mistakes and broken promises, owning up to each one. the realization of how far you both have fallen from the love you once shared hits hard. his words are a painful reminder of why you separated.

your breath hitches, tears welling up in your eyes. the realization that you still hold such a significant place in his heart, despite everything, makes your chest tighten. his confession, so raw and unfiltered, breaks through the walls you've tried so hard to build and you can't help but feel a sense of longing.

i wasn’t there when you needed me most—when you were struggling, when you were hurting, when all you needed was for me to be by your side. instead, i buried myself in work and held secrets from you. i kept my fears, my worries, and my vulnerabilities locked away, thinking i was protecting you from the dangers of my world. in hindsight, i can see how wrong i was. i should have trusted you, should have let you in, instead of shutting you out. i let my fear of losing you drive a wedge between us. you reached out to me so many times, and i pushed you away without realizing it. you deserve someone who will be there for you, who will share their heart with you completely, and i failed to be that person.

his words are everything you've ever wanted to hear —acknowledgment and ownership of his actions. as you read through each sentence, a part of you feels a long-held weight beginning to lift. this is what you had needed all along: for him to truly see where he went wrong, to recognize the pain he caused not just in passing, but in full. his understanding, his willingness to admit his faults, and the depth of his remorse touch you in a way you hadn't anticipated.

i know that words alone cannot undo the pain i’ve caused or the mistakes i’ve made. I understand if you can’t forgive me. i don’t blame you if you decide not to take me back, it’s more than i deserve. you have every right to move on and find the happiness you deserve. but know this: every word on these pages comes from a place of deep regret and genuine love. i’m willing to wait, to prove myself to you, and to work through the challenges that lie ahead, no matter how long it takes. i promise to work tirelessly to prove to you how much i’ve changed. take your time, and when you’re ready, i’ll be here. know that no matter what, i will always cherish and love you. with all my heart, satoru.

over half a dozen pages long, his letter is filled with different sections, titles, and even little scribbles that show his struggle to find the right words. each sentence reveals his heart—his regrets, his apologies, his promises. it’s clear he poured every ounce of his remorse into this letter. there are areas where the ink has bled, likely from the tears he shed as he wrote, and fresh stains from your own.

after folding the sheets of paper back together, you sit in silence, the weight of satoru's words settling heavily in your chest. the room around you feels quiet and distant, as if the only thing that matters right now is the jumble of emotions swirling within you. despite the turmoil, you feel touched by the effort he put into this letter.

he isn’t begging you to take him back. the letter is simply a way to get his feelings, thoughts and apologies out– things he’s struggled with saying since your separation. he realizes there may be a reality where you don't forgive him and he has to learn to live with that.

you hold the pages to your chest, feeling the weight of them against your heart. the tears fall, warm and heavy, but you don’t try to stop them. each drop is a release of the pent-up emotions you've been carrying; sadness, relief, and a deep, profound sense of gratitude.

gojo's words have reached you in a way nothing else has. the raw emotion and vulnerability he’s shared almost feels like he’s connecting you to the person you once knew so intimately. as you cry, you can’t help but feel touched by the depth of his feelings. it’s not just an apology; it’s a testament to the love he still holds for you. the gesture is so thoughtful and has made you feel seen and valued in a way you had almost given up on.

—

the few moments it takes for gojo to answer the front door feel like an eternity, making it seem as though your heart is lodged in your throat. it had been a few days since you read the letter- you read it multiple times, actually. a thousand thoughts race in your head at once as you anticipate the conversation you're about to have with him. you’re not sure how the interaction will go, but it will offer one thing- closure.

when he finally opens it, his expression shifts from surprise to cautious. the late hour makes your presence worrisome and he can see the subtle signs of distress on your face.

“what’s wrong? is it haru?”. his voice is immediately laced with concern. it’s past his bedtime by now, and his mind races for a moment with all the possibilities of what could have happened at this time of night.

you shake your head. “he’s fine. he’s with my parents”, he takes a breath in relief as you ease his worries for a moment. gojo looks into your eyes, quiet as he waits for you to speak.

“i read your letter”. your voice breaks at the end of your sentence.

“oh” gojo definitely wasn’t expecting this, not at this hour. the simple word carries vulnerability, as if he’s bracing himself for bad news.

he steps aside to let you in before disappearing into the kitchen for a moment to get you a glass of water. as eager as he is to hear what you have to say, he also wants to give you the freedom to start the conversation.

upon entering his apartment, you’re enveloped by the overwhelming existence of gojo. the familiar presence of him transports you to the mornings you once shared. the warmth of the space, the soft lighting, the throw blankets on the couch—all evoke memories of the comfort and safety you felt when he was around. you notice the subtle, everyday items that you’ve walked by a thousand times over–- his favorite books stacked on the coffee table, the cozy slippers by the door, and the meticulously arranged pillows on top of the cushions that reflect his attention to detail. each element of the apartment seems to whisper echoes of the past. and it's those little details that end up breaking you.

the tears flow hot and heavy down your cheeks, pooling on the inside of your palms as you cover your face. your breaths come in uneven gasps, hitching with every cry as your sobs come in shuddering waves, each one breaking through the fragile barrier you had tried to maintain.

it’s overwhelming, this flood of emotions that you’ve tried so hard to keep at bay. the vulnerability of the moment is too great, and the rawness of your feelings too profound to mask. you let yourself be consumed by it, giving in to the torrent of sorrow that has been building inside you for so long.

gojo stands frozen for a moment as he emerges from the kitchen, his heart aching at the sight of you. he’s always hated seeing you cry. it hurts even worse to know it’s because of him. all of the pain you’ve both endured is because of him.

“hey” he coos. he wants to reach out and touch you so badly, to console you how he usually would, but he knows there’s a certain boundary he shouldn’t cross without your permission. it’s hard, though, to watch you struggle with your emotions so intensely.

tentatively, he places a hand on your shoulder, as if he’s giving you space to decide if you’re ready for his touch. the familiar warmth is something you’ve longed for and you find yourself leaning into that comfort, for the connection that once defined your relationship.

when you take a small step toward him, the silent gesture of vulnerability is all the encouragement he needs before he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a gentle, yet firm embrace. he has to hold back a sigh of contentment at the feeling of you in his arms for the first time in months.

in his arms, you let yourself surrender to the grief and relief as you continue to sob into your hands. you can feel the familiar warmth of his body, a sensation that both comforts and stings.

gojo is grateful that you allow him to hold you. his hand finds its way into your hair, fingers gently threading through the strands as he cradles your head.

“i got you” he whispers. gojo keeps his movements small, but reassuring as he allows you to feel everything. he feels the tension gradually leave your body as you manage to calm down enough to halt your crying. your chest still feels heavy, but the overwhelming flood of emotion has subsided into a quiet ache. when he thinks you’re ready, gojo tries to coax you into sharing your thoughts.

"talk to me," he encourages gently, his voice a soft murmur against your ear. "what's going on?".

you pull back a bit to wipe your eyes. gojo lets his arms drop, but remains close as guides you to the couch. he offers the glass of water he put aside and you drink it before speaking.

“your letter means more to me than i can put into words”. your voice is hoarse from crying. gojo’s features soften. “it was overwhelming, but it was everything i’ve been wanting from you for so long—acknowledgment, honesty, and the understanding of how deeply your actions affected us”.

you nervously play with your fingers as you continue. “but… i’m scared. what if we try again and end up hurting each other more? if things don’t work out and it affects us as parents? i don’t want haru to get caught in the middle of that”.

he understands where you’re coming from. your son is the most important thing to both of you and he doesn’t deserve to be robbed of his innocence.

“when we were together i convinced myself time and time again that you’d change and was always disappointed when you proved otherwise. i’m scared to go back into a relationship that’s already failed”. your voice breaks again.

gojo’s eyes study you. it’s clear you’ve thought a lot about his letter. he can see how every word he wrote affects you in a different way. he’s grateful that he’s at least getting the opportunity to sit down and talk to you about it. it’s a closure you’ve both needed for a long time.

“i’m scared too”, he admits. he had the same fears as you did. there’s no way for him to know that another chance will prove anything. “but i’m more scared of losing you for good”. gojo truly can’t imagine his life without you in it. you’ve been together for so long that you’ve left a permanent mark on his heart.

his words cut through you, making your heart race with conflicting emotions. you still love him—there was no denying that. but love had never been the issue. it was everything else—the dangers he faced, the secrets he kept, the life he lived that always seemed to pull him away from you.

“i don’t want to go back, either,” he continues. “i want to try something new, to build something better and be the husband i should’ve been, to take things one step at a time and see if we can find our way back to each other”.

the offer is terrifying. it opens up too many possibilities for things to go completely wrong, leaving you to grapple with the fear of falling back into old patterns and the uncertainty of whether things can truly change. there’s nothing holding gojo to his promise other than the hope that things will be different this time. it’s far too risky of an idea to agree to, with so many variables that could lead to more heartbreak and disappointment.

but as you look into his eyes, you see the man you had fallen in love with all those years ago—the man who had been your partner, your confidant and the father of your child. his eyes, though shadowed with regret, are still beautiful and hold the warmth and sincerity you’ve always cherished. the depth of his gaze brings back memories of the laughter and love you once shared and you realize that this is not just about risking another heartbreak; it’s about giving yourself a chance to rebuild, to rediscover what once brought you joy.

“okay,” your voice is barely above a whisper. gojo’s eyes search yours.

“okay?” he repeats, his voice tinged with uncertainty, not entirely sure what the small statement means. you nod, your gaze steady.

“one step at a time” you echo his earlier words. the phrase is more than just a reassurance—it's a declaration of your willingness to approach the future with caution and deliberate care.

a slow smile spread across his face, filled with a hope you haven’t seen in a long time.

it isn’t going to be easy, but this could be the start of something new—a chance to rebuild what had been broken, and to create a future where your family could be happy.

---

ch 4>

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