#’A second reason to celebrate the holiday.’

[rebelliousstories]

Home for the Holidays

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Alcohol

Word Count: 2,190

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: If there is anyone that can convince him to stay home, it was her. And if there was any time for him to stay home, it was now.

Consider Donating: Here

“Logan!”

“Logan! Come back!”

“Logan! Wolverine!”

Too many times had he heard the call of his name by those he loved. Too often did he refuse to turn back to go to them out of his own stupid pride. And, because of this, far too much did he miss out on fun events and memories. That had apparently went out the window the second that he decided to date his girlfriend.

Do not be mistaken, Logan still manages to find ways to slip away from the school in order to not join in on festivities. But it had been greatly reduced since she came along. A mutant who has the ability to decay anything with a single touch, that somehow fell in love with the man who could not seem to die.

Logan was picking up the keys to his motorcycle when she came to fetch him.

“Log, hey honey.” Her wide beam smile threatened to infect his own face, but he let a small tilt of his lips escape.

“What do you want, darling?” He grumbled, plopping his heavy body on the machine.

“Will you stay home with me tomorrow?”

Her eyes begged him, oh so cutely. But he knew what that was code for. It was what she did each and every time.

“Nope.”

“But, Logan.” He began to start the bike up, which drowned her out for a second.

“No. You’re not dragging me to another party.” The rumble of the beast underneath him was a calming feeling and sound. It was part of the reason he went on so many drives on it. Silence was so hard to achieve when you could hear things most people could never.

“Log, wait just a second,” her arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him right where she wanted him. “Please, it’s Thanksgiving. Just stay home with us please. With me?” Her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“I don’t do holidays. Besides, I’m Canadian.”

As he drove away, Logan could still see her crestfallen face in his side mirrors. Once he was out on the open road, he tried to put her upset expression out of his mind, but found he could not. This happened every major holiday; even the minor ones too. It was not that he did not like spending time with her, quite the opposite really. But it was that he did not care for the major celebrations.

Too many smells and sounds. People pretending that they wanted to be around him when in actuality they could not care less. As they got closer to the holiday season, people spent money that they did not have to impress people who would still think those same nasty things about them. The falseness of the months of November and December repulsed him.

But the long he went, the more he thought about her. This was their second Thanksgiving together, and he had done the exact same thing last year. Driven off on his bike, camped at a dingy motel for the next two days with a constant supply of alcohol, before returning on Friday. Would it have truly been so bad for him to stay at home with her, and suffered through the festivities?

A ding broke his gaze from the road. He was running low on fuel. Sighing, Logan kept his eyes out for a gas station along the deserted road he was on. There was nothing he hated more than to run out of gas before he got to a place to fill up. Thankfully, that was not the case.

An old station that had probably not been repaired since the mid 70’s came upon his journey. There was a lone truck at the pumps when he pulled in, and another around back meaning that there was at least two people inside the building. For some reason, Logan felt the need to go inside and grab a snack. As soon as he stepped through the door, a warm scene greeted him.

There stood a dad with his children who were laughing while their mom checked out with their snacks. All of them were so happy with each other. Even the woman at the register was smiling because of them. Logan could hear their conversation, and it was all so hopeful. The children were talking excitedly about what they wanted to eat for the holiday, and which cousins they would see. Their father was happily listening to them, and prompting them to talk more about what they wanted to do.

It was so beautiful to watch that he was a little sad that they had left afterwards. He set his pack of beer and chips on the counter, but let his mind wander. Logan had long since given up on the concept of having a family himself, even though he would like one. With his mutation, it was probably not possible. He very well could outlive his own children, or whoever was their mother, and that was not a fun thought for him to have.

Getting the case of beer and food onto the bike took a bit of maneuvering, but the mutant made it happen. Instead of going back to the school though, he just continued down the road now that he was refueled in more ways than one. What was once a peaceful drive meant to clear his head and heart, had quickly turned to quiet for him.

All he could think of now was being home with his girlfriend for Thanksgiving. During the school year, he loved watching her interact with the younger children. It always stirred something in him that he kept dampening down whenever it sprung up. This was part of the reason that he was so reluctant to spend holidays with her.

She always made sure that the kids who had no family to go home to were taken care of; unfortunately, that was a majority of the students at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. But she never made them miss out on fun festive activities. He knew that leading up to the big day, her lesson plans always took some time to make decorations. The younger kids had made hand turkeys, while the older ones used the changing leaves outside to make their own collages or scrapbooks.

That was just how she was. Even though her mutation caused destruction, her spirit repaired others. There was nothing that she was not willing to do if it meant making others happy. It often caused some insecurity to sprout in Logan’s chest. Because, how was someone so kind, so caring, so lovely, so precious, dating someone like him? A mutant who tried to find solace in the bottom of a bottle, and kept killing bottles to find it. A mutant who got into fights whenever he felt like it, and kept true to his lone wolf personality.

The motel that evening did not provide the comfort he was looking for. Usually, there was a little ease associated with it. A nice, calm, stable environment for him away from the hustle and bustle that he knew was overtaking the school at this very moment. As Logan cracked open his first beer, he thought about how shut down she was when he drove away. His pride would not allow him to admit that he was wrong, and frankly, up until this point, he had not believe that he was wrong. And yet, there was just a little something in his chest that tugged on his heart as he went to sleep that made him believe other wise.

After Logan had left, she went back into the mansion with a frown etched deep onto her face. But there was little time to dwell on the fact that her boyfriend was leaving once again. There was so much to do for the big meal tomorrow. Cooking for an entire school was an arduous task, but one that her, and the other adults, took on gratefully.

Her mind was kept free from thoughts that would damper her mood all through the rest of the day. So many people had joined together that year to make their feast. Different dietary restrictions, different cultures, and different preferences had made for one interesting prepping day. She did make sure to include a couple turkeys on the table that had to be prepped, but there was just so much variety.

However, sleep continued to evade her that night. The blame was partially on the lack of her space heater lover not providing adequate warmth for her. During the colder months, Logan’s ability to run warm was her favorite thing about him. He was just a big, hairy, perfectly warmed teddy bear to latch onto in the middle of the night.

But most of the blame was on the fact that she would, once again, be alone on the holidays. Sure, she had her friends and the kids, but that was not the same as having her Wolverine. He would be doing whatever he was doing for the next two days, before coming back like nothing had happened.

And that was how she found herself in the kitchen, stress baking, at four o’clock in the morning. Her ever so popular iced lemon cookies were on the menu. It was a process that she had done so much, that she did not need to think about what she was doing. She knew that these would be going like hot cakes tomorrow, or rather today if someone wanted to be technical. So she did not worry about making too many; there would never be enough.

Five am came far faster than she ever thought. There were a few of the older people that had begun trickling in, and here she was. Still baking. Charles got his morning tea before retreating into his office. Scott made his and Jean’s cup of coffee and left to go to their room. Storm, however, stayed. She made both of them a cup of coffee before starting on food preparations while the other woman finished off her baking.

They snacked on cookies and remnants of food for breakfast while the rest of the school woke up. Remy and Rogue both came down to share a plate of eggs and toast in the dinning room, aiming just to stay out of the way for now. However, as soon as they were done, they were put to work warming up side dishes that had been prepped the day before to save on time.

In a few hours, the adults had the perfect Thanksgiving meal on the tables. Everything was served buffet style, with additional chairs and tables inhabiting the dinning and game room. Every one fixed themselves a plate with a little bit of everything they wanted, and sat down to enjoy a nice time together. But she just watched from her little corner.

Sure, she had a plate of food, but it did not seem too appealing right now. Right now, she was just enjoying watching everyone enjoy themselves. She saw Scott and Jean laughing, feeding each other bites from their plates, and chatting with the youngsters they had come to take in as their own. It made her a bit bitter on what was supposed to be a day of thanks. Pushing around a bit of Rogue’s green bean casserole, she did not know what she was expecting when someone cleared their throat behind her.

Logan was the last person she expected to see, though.

He stood a bit awkwardly. His hands were shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans, right next to the big belt buckle he loved wearing. The flannel covering his arms and chest was the one that she had gotten him as a belated Christmas present last year. Not because she forgot to give it to him on Christmas, but rather because he was not there for it. Logan cleared his throat again before trying to speak.

“Mind helping me fix a plate, darling?” Her shock was recovered quickly as she stood, leaving behind her own plate. She talked him through each dish, and helped load up his plate with things that he may not have understood, but would definitely enjoy eating. There was a little something that was nagging her as they went to go sit down again.

“What are you doing back so soon?”

For once, Logan did not have what seemed like an appropriate response. He never bothered with giving a good answer before because he never cared who took offense to what he was saying. Now, he was terrified to upset his girlfriend even more.

“I just figured I would give this thing a try.” Logan tried to keep his eyes to his food, and shoveled a bit in before he could speak more.

“Well,” she began putting together her own first bite, “thank you for humoring me.”

“Don’t get used to it, darling.”

Anyone who did not know Logan would assume that he was being serious. But she knew better. That twinkle in his eye let her know that she just might turn his cynical heart around yet.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 7

Summary: Negan joins Y/N as her date to one of the Christmas parties that the town throws every year. Tensions rise when it's clear that Joel is very unhappy with the relationship that Y/N has with Negan.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Joel Miller, Elizabeth, Peter, Maria, Tommy Miller, Rosita Espinosa, Siddiq, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155437699

Warnings: Swearing, angst, depression, sadness, etc.

One thing that never changed was how fast time flew. It had been two weeks since Y/N and Negan went on that date together. Since then? They saw each other every single day. Even though it was two weeks, it felt like they were getting in the years that they had missed with each other very quickly. Every night they would end up together in one of their beds talking. They talked a lot and it was nice to be able to have something like that again. Having open discussions was an amazing thing. It was thrilling getting to have Negan back in her life again. How quickly they reconnected was fantastic and she was so happy to have this relationship with him. It felt like she had her best friend back. And that loneliness she had grown so used to having for so many years? It was gone. Maybe even without meaning to, Negan was able to heal part of her.

Dread was no longer something she felt when waking up. And that was amazing. It lifted her spirits more than she ever knew was possible.

Pretty quickly the town picked up on the two of them always being together. Then again? It probably was pretty obvious. They were always holding hands. Being close was something that Negan was fond of. Touching each other was just normal. Showing his affection for her in public was not something that Negan had a problem with. And it was very sweet. Since he was kind of a celebrity, she had originally thought that he might want to keep their relationship, whatever it was, in the dark. But he stressed too her that he wanted her to be a predominant person in his life so he didn’t care what other people thought. And he visibly meant it.

Also over the last two weeks, they had spent a lot of time with Tommy and Maria. Those two were the new couple that most of the town had picked up on too. Likely because Maria was the daughter of the mayor so her family was big around their small hometown. But then again? It seemed like a lot of people had picked up on Tommy and Maria meeting each other every night at the diner. The only person who had been pretty oblivious to it was Joel. Which was strange since rumors really got around fast in this town.

Tommy’s fears did come to fruition because Maria’s dad wasn’t incredibly happy with the two of them being together, but Maria shut that down fast. Tommy and Maria were nowhere near being children and she forced her dad to butt his nose out of it. Surprisingly? He did.

The only person that Y/N hadn’t spent a lot of time with lately was Joel. After the day that he picked the children up from Negan’s mother’s home, he never really had much interest in being around. It was unfortunate considering things, but she could tell he was jealous. And he definitely felt negatively toward her being in some kind of a relationship with Negan.

Tonight Y/N found herself at one of the town’s annual Christmas parties that they held. It was the most popular party that they did during Christmas time. They had other events that they ran, but this was the one that everyone seemed to look forward to each year. Over the last few years? This was not an event that she would look forward to. The kids enjoyed it. And it was a tradition, which traditions were the things that she tried to cling onto for Christmas. So she kept coming.

When she was younger? This was a party that she loved coming to with Joel. For some reason, there was a lot of spotlight on their relationship when they were younger. As she grew older, Y/N started to realize that this town had a very archaic way of doing things. Each year at this party they would always crown a snow king and snow queen for Christmas. Which really? It was just them picking a couple in town that had a lot of attention on them. They would crown them, give them sashes and made a big deal about it. To a younger couple? That was pretty cool. To have the whole town acknowledge that your relationship was special? It was fun. Now that she was older it did kind of feel like it was just the town getting into people’s business. And she grew to hate this competition. Especially because they would always bring the old winners up that were still around onto the stage to ‘honor’ them.

Many times she had won the award of snow king and queen with Joel. And the two had taken many photos to prove it. A lot of those photos were up in the attic of her home collecting dust more than likely. Throughout the event, they would play a very cheesy video to show the history of their winners. Looking back on that video throughout the night brought forth a lot of emotions. Embarrassment knowing that she would have to get up in front of people tonight. Sadness because the relationship that she used to be proud of with Joel no longer existed. And there was also a discomfort over the idea that she was now with someone else, yet the town was still flashing her relationship with Joel all night long.

“So explain this for me,” Rosita whispered in Y/N’s ear, pulling her chair in closer to Y/N. Together they were sitting at one of the tables in the giant ballroom. Across from them, Negan was sitting with Elizabeth and Peter. The three of them were sitting close together all staring down at Negan’s phone while he played a video for them to watch. Peter was snuggly resting his head against Negan’s shoulder and it seemed to come naturally. Occasionally, each of them would burst out into laughter, so obviously it was something funny that Negan had put on for them. It was loud in the room with the music that they were playing, so it didn’t bother Y/N with their tiny outbursts. “Are you dating Negan or not?”

“We really haven’t put a label on our relationship yet,” Y/N was honest with her friend, hoping to be quiet enough so that no one else other than Rosita could hear her. Right now? Her heart was fluttering at the sight of Negan with her children. Just like he had with her, Negan connected swiftly with her children. And she loved that.

“How could you not put a fucking label on that? Negan is a professional baseball player!” Rosita blurt out with Y/N immediately hushing her. Grumbling under her breath, Rosita turned Y/N away from the table so they could talk one-on-one. “If you’re dating a professional baseball player, that’s a pretty big fucking deal.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t really have an answer for you,” Y/N apologized, stealing another glance back at her children with Negan who didn’t seem to be too bothered. Sliding in closer to Rosita, Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I guess we will have to talk about it. We spend a lot of time together. I feel like we’re inseparable lately.”

“So that means you’re dating,” Rosita stressed, nodding her head in the direction of Negan. “If you’re spending all your time together, I think that means you’re dating.”

“Nothing is official yet,” Y/N repeated, not wanting her friend to get ahead of herself. “I like what we have. It’s been great.”

“So have the two of you…” Rosita made a crude movement with her hands visibly asking if Negan and Y/N had sex. Warmth flooded into her cheeks, stealing a quick look back to make sure Negan and the children were still distracted. Nodding once had Rosita biting back a squeal of excitement. “Like, how many times?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, placing her finger in over her mouth in attempts to keep Rosita quiet.

“You don’t know because you haven’t been paying attention or you don’t know because it’s been that many?” Rosita was excitedly curious. Probably too excited. Clinging to Y/N’s arm Rosita shook it when she realized it was the second. “Girl, I must know. Is the ego legit for a good reason or is it because he’s lacking?”

“He’s not lacking anything,” Y/N knew better than to talk about this, but Rosita was her best friend after all. “And when we don’t sleep together? He loves cuddling. Just holding me in his arms at night. It’s really sweet.

“That’s cute and all, but what about the sex?” Rosita eagerly bounced in her seat wanting the tea on her relationship with Negan.

“I won’t go into details but he’s very good with what he has,” Y/N didn’t want to be one of those people that went into excruciating details. Especially since her children were right across the table from them. 

Clearing her throat, she slid in closer to Rosita so she could speak very quietly, “He knows how to make me squirt.”

“Honey! I told you that Joel wasn’t that good at se…” Rosita blurt out too loudly getting an immediate hushing sound from Y/N to cut her off. This time it drew Negan’s attention who looked up at them. His hazel eyes seemed curious, but when Y/N gave him a cheesy smile he just smirked and went back to watching what he was.

“Joel is good. Don’t even start at that. It’s just Negan, Negan is good too. They are vastly different, but I enjoy both,” Y/N assured Rosita evoking Rosita to roll her eyes dramatically knowing that Y/N was still quick to defend Joel.

“Okay, so you’re the luckiest girl in the world and the two men you’ve been with are incredibly good at sex. Good for you,” Rosita grumbled under her breath, showing a sense of jealousy at the idea of it. “We all can’t be as lucky as you.”

“Siddiq is adorable,” Y/N pointed in the distance to Rosita’s man who was sitting at the table with Coco in his lap. Siddiq was bouncing their daughter on his knee, singing to her while the music played up on stage.

“Siddiq is flawless, but he’s not the only man I’ve been with,” Rosita frowned thinking back on past relationships that she had. “So yes, Siddiq is beautiful, perfect and amazing. But they weren’t all like that.”

“I think what matters is how everything turned out,” Y/N thought aloud about her friend’s relationship. Thinking about Negan, Y/N shifted in her seat and sighed. “With Negan, it’s been nice having someone around when the children are with Joel. That’s for sure. I thought my vacation from work was going to be really lonely. So lonely that I would just get back on the computer and work.”

“What about Joel? How’s he taking it?” Rosita was interested with her eyebrow arching in curiosity. The mention of Joel had Y/N swallowing down hard and she shrugged her shoulders. “After what happened before Negan showed up? I thought he’d have more to say.”

“I haven’t seen him much over these last two weeks,” Y/N replied with a long sigh letting her friend in on what was happening with her ex-husband. “He’s supposed to be here today though. Elizabeth asked him to come specifically for her. And technically? We’re supposed to be here for that stupid dance where they honor the past winners for the snow queens and kings.”

“That’s cute about Elizabeth, gross about the honoring the past winners,” Rosita blurt out, her face wrinkling up in disgust. “It’s such an outdated way of doing things. We should celebrate all the couples and families. Not just single one out.”

“Baby,” Siddiq’s voice interrupted the two of them as he approached them with Coco in his arms. “While that’s a nice thought, I know that you would love to be crowned that and you would eat up the attention if it was you.”

“Oh hush you,” Rosita stood up from her seat to approach her man who giggled in return. Grabbing a hold of Coco, Rosita and Siddiq went somewhere else together leaving Y/N alone to herself at her side of the table.

Being alone allowed Y/N to watch her children with Negan. Peter was telling Negan an elaborate story while Elizabeth bickered back and forth with him. It had Negan looking between the two of them, laughing when one of them would say something to amuse him. It really was impressive how quickly Negan got along with her children. Especially since Negan had been out of her life for so long. Right now? It felt like Negan had never left.

Gasping out, she felt the sensation of a pair of cold hands placing in over her shoulders. Looking back, she saw that it was Tommy. A surprised breath fell from her throat noticing that Tommy’s hair was pulled back nicely into a ponytail and he was wearing a very nice gray suit.

“Tommy, my God,” Y/N stood up from the table, turning to face Joel’s little brother. Extending her hands out, she brushed her hands in over his shoulders and gave him a once over. “You look so good. Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dress like this before.”

“Well,” Tommy stepped aside, his face flushing over when he revealed that Maria was behind him. There was a smile that tugged at his features showing that he was proud to have her beside him. Motioning her forward, Tommy curled his arm around Maria’s waist and shrugged. “There is a reason for that and she’s right here. I want to look the best I can for her.”

“You always look the best,” Maria looked to Tommy with so much love in her eyes. Just seeing that made Y/N smile. Since this was the man that she had helped raise, it was nice to see Tommy find a love like he had with Maria.

“You both look amazing,” Y/N complimented them, holding her hand out to point to Maria’s outfit that she was also wearing. She was dressed in a golden gown that looked gorgeous on her. “Maria, you are stunning.”

“You’re always too kind to me,” Maria stated with a big smile when Y/N stepped forward to hug Maria. Beside them Tommy seemed so proud of the moment.

“Just truthful,” Y/N pulled back to give Maria’s shoulders an assuring squeeze. Motioning them to wait, Y/N turned on her heel and spoke up loud enough for the children to hear. “Elizabeth! Peter! Come see your Uncle Tommy and Maria!”

“Uncle Tommy!” Peter exclaimed at the sight of Tommy once he pulled his stare away from the phone that he was focused on. Getting up from the table, Peter set the phone down and threw his hands up in the air. “What are you wearing? I’ve never seen you in something like that!”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Tommy laughed, accepting a big embrace from Peter as Elizabeth got up and made her way around the table.

“Trust me, it’s a good thing,” Elizabeth accepted the next hug from Tommy while Peter went to go to talk to Maria who seemed just as excited to talk to him. “You must really like this girl, huh?”

“I do,” Tommy acknowledged, squeezing his arms tighter around Elizabeth to give her another big hug. “You’ve met her. How couldn’t I?”

“You don’t have to answer that!” Maria playfully teased with Elizabeth coming over to give her a hug as well.

“Maria, you are so beautiful and you know that I think that,” Elizabeth stressed to Maria, who reached for Elizabeth’s hand to grab a hold of it. Looking over the dress that Elizabeth was wearing, Maria playfully spun Elizabeth who laughed. “Mom picked it out for me.”

“You look gorgeous honey,” Maria assured Elizabeth with a wink, stepping forward to give her another big hug. Over the last two weeks, both Maria and Negan had been able to get close to Peter and Elizabeth. So it was nice to see that they had all clicked so quickly. “Are you alright if we sit with you for a few?”

“Of course,” Y/N knew that they had intentionally made room for them. Both of the children were eager to talk to Tommy and Maria for a while. Watching them made her smile, but out of the corner of her eye she could see that Negan was staring out at her. Winking at him, she wiggled her finger to get him to come sit by her. With a nod, Negan stood up from the table and it drew attention to the three-piece suit that he was wearing that was tailored nicely to his slender form. Moving around the table, Y/N could see that Negan had caught the eye of several people, but by now the town had seemed to have learned to give Negan his space. Especially since he had gone above and beyond for people who came running up to him for photos in the first few weeks. As soon as Negan was seated beside her, she reached out to brush her fingers through Negan’s dark hair that was slicked back. “You are the sexiest man in the room. You know that?”

“Hmm…” Negan hummed, his head pressing in closer to hers. An amused rumble of a sound fell from him, his fingers sweeping in over the side of her face. “I don’t know that, but it never hurts to hear it from the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Going in for a kiss, Negan heard the sound of Elizabeth clearing her throat acting as if she was annoyed. It made both of them laugh when Y/N nuzzled her nose in against Negan’s, “Second most beautiful.”

“Second most beautiful,” Negan repeated what Y/N had said, stealing a quick kiss from Y/N’s lips. Clasping her hand in his, Negan hooked their fingers together tightly and smiled. “Hey Tommy? Did Liz here ever tell you about what happened the other night?”

“About what?” Tommy seemed curious and Elizabeth obviously didn’t know where Negan was headed with his question.

“It was a few weeks ago. She threatened to kick my ass,” Negan slurred, his eyebrow arching in amusement. Elizabeth’s face grew red, an embarrassed sound falling from her lips. “I swore she was gonna kill me.”

“Negan, it’s not funny,” Elizabeth dropped her head down into her hand, wishing like hell Negan wasn’t about to bring it up.

Hushing Negan, Y/N realized where he was headed with the story now that he had both Maria and Tommy’s attention, “Your niece here thought that you and her mother were having an affair. She thought I was you and she was ready to kick my ass.”

“The two of us?” Tommy blurt out, disgust flooding his features when he pointed back and forth between him and Y/N. Nodding, Y/N couldn’t help but be amused with Elizabeth throwing her hands up in the air dramatically. “How in God’s name did you think we were doing something like that kiddo?”

“You were gone all the time,” Elizabeth defended herself with a shake of her head. “I didn’t know why you were gone because you hadn’t told us about Maria yet. So I guess I just assumed, if you weren’t at the house and mom was with someone? Then it had to be you.”

“She raised me,” Tommy reminded his niece who groaned outwardly, shooting a glare over at Negan who laughed out boisterously. “Don’t get me wrong, Y/N is a very beautiful woman, but there is no way in hell that the two of us would ever, ever get together.”

“Nice save,” Negan reached out to pat Tommy on the shoulder. Tommy gave Y/N an apologetic glance and she shook her head telling him that it was okay.

“Onto a less embarrassing subject,” Elizabeth let out a tiny laugh herself, looking around the party. It seemed like the whole town was packed into the ballroom, but there was one person that was missing from the group. “Where’s dad?”

“Oh, uhm…” Tommy started, the tone of his voice changing. Dropping his head, Y/N immediately picked up on the fact that Tommy seemed uncomfortable with Elizabeth asking that. Tipping his head from side to side, Tommy’s eyes met Y/N’s and she knew by the expression that his response was not going to be a good one.

“Is he going to be here soon? I told him that I wanted to recreate that photo that I took with him when I was little,” Elizabeth stressed to Tommy what she had told Joel the other night when she was excited about this party. “A lot of people at my school are recreating photos with their parents and I just remember always loving that one. You know which one I’m talking about, right?”

“The one that you have in your room,” Tommy acknowledged what Elizabeth was reminding him of, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat while he shifted uneasily in his seat. “I uh, I’m sorry kiddo. But your dad isn’t coming tonight. He was pretty busy working on something and he wasn’t able to get away from it.”

“But…” the color drained from Elizabeth’s face hearing that Joel wouldn’t be coming to the party. “I mean, he knew that I wanted to take that photo. He promised that he would be here. He didn’t say anything?”

“He just told me that he would be picking you two up tomorrow morning instead of taking you home tonight,” Tommy explained, nodding between both Peter and Elizabeth. A disappointed breath fell from Y/N’s lips hating that Joel was letting Elizabeth down over obviously being angry that she would be showing up tonight with Negan. “I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s okay,” Elizabeth tried to wave off that she was sad about the idea of Joel not showing up. “It was a stupid idea anyway.”

“Nothing is a stupid idea if it’s something that you want,” Negan sat forward in his chair, tapping his fingers against the top of the table to try to get Elizabeth to look at him. “What photo did you want to recreate with him?”

Motioning Negan to wait, Elizabeth grabbed her bag and dug through it to find her phone. Swiping through her photos, she stopped on one and then handed it over to Negan who smiled. It was a photo of Joel when he was younger on the dancefloor with Elizabeth. Joel had obviously won snow king that year by the crown that was over his head.

“How old are you here?” Negan wondered, a big smile tugging at his handsome features attempting to get Elizabeth to talk about what made her happy.

“Five,” Elizabeth answered accepting her phone back after Negan handed it back to her. Setting the phone down on the table, Elizabeth didn’t know how to handle not having Joel there. “It’s fine. It’s just a weird social media trend anyways.”

Someone called out to Elizabeth and she realized that it was one of her friends calling her over, “I’ll be right back.”

Peter followed Elizabeth not far behind and Y/N was quick to turn to Tommy who was ill at ease when she looked to him for the truth, “So what did Joel really say?”

“He just told me that he didn’t want to come to the party tonight. I tried to get him to go, but he was working on a guitar and he said that he didn’t want to,” Tommy alerted her, showing in his body language that he was upset that he had to be the barrier of bad news. “There was only so much I could do. I had to go get Maria, so I couldn’t keep bickering with him.”

“This isn’t like him Tommy,” Y/N noted knowing that Joel had always been an amazing father to their children. “He was supposed to take the children home after the party. Their things are in the car. We were supposed to go up on stage together and do that stupid dance. But most of all, Elizabeth asked him to be here.”

“Like I said, he told me that he would pick them up in the morning,” Tommy threw his hands up in the air noticing the anger that was growing in Y/N’s face. “Hey, don’t get mad at the messenger. I’m just telling you what I was told.”

“Tommy, I know. I just…” she covered her eyes letting out an uncomfortable breath. This was just like Joel to leave her stranded again. “I mean, he’s done this to me with this stupid party several times now. Do you know how weird it feels to have to tell them up on stage that he’s not here so we can’t do it? You saw how upset Elizabeth was.”

“Take Negan with you,” Tommy stammered when he thought about the stage problem that she just pointed out. Maria looked between all of them, not sure what to add to the conversation since she really had no part of it. Hearing that had the lines in Negan’s forehead growing. “I’m sure the town would find him to be an acceptable replacement for my brother.”

“Tommy,” Maria frowned at the suggestion that Tommy gave them, swatting softly at his thigh. “Don’t say things like that.”

“I don’t want to be Joel’s replacement,” Negan assured them, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. “Plus? I was never snow king. I mean, Lucille and I tried when we were in high school, but the title went to Y/N and Joel. I think Joel should be here to do it. It’s meant to be a tradition for a reason.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Tommy looked toward the front of the room to eyeball the table where Maria’s father was seated. “We actually are supposed to be sitting with Maria’s family tonight at their table. I just wanted to come over and say hi to you and the family. Since you guys are where my heart is. I would have never told Maria how I felt without you Y/N.”

“And we’ll be forever grateful that you gave him the strength to try to do it,” Maria wrapped her arm around Tommy’s hooking her fingers with his. “I know how much you and the children mean to Tommy. You’re part of my family now.”

Clearing his throat, Negan was being dramatic in the way he tipped his head from side to side wanting some attention too. It made Maria laugh when Tommy reached out to shove into Negan’s shoulder having the both of them burst out in laughter.

“And Negan too,” Maria added to her statement waving her hand about toward Negan who gave her a big cheesy smile. Both Maria and Tommy stood up from the table with Negan and Y/N following suit.

Tommy stepped forward to wrap Y/N up in his arms to give her a big hug. They both went over to say goodbye to the children so they could go to the front table where Maria’s father was. Leaving them alone at the table had Elizabeth coming back with Peter.

“Hey,” Negan called out noticing that Elizabeth still looked bummed about the news of Joel not coming to the party tonight. “I may not be able to do the photo with you, but if you want I’ll dance with you.”

Having Negan offer that made Elizabeth weakly smile. Negan was full on giving her the puppy dog eye staring attempting to get her to smile when he moved in beside her. Nudging her playfully with his arm had Elizabeth laughing, “We can make your friends really jealous.”

“They already know you’re with my mom Negan,” Elizabeth declared making Peter snicker beside her. After a glare was sent his way by Elizabeth, Peter threw his hands up in the air. “Which trust me, they are already jealous of. Just the fact I get to spend time with you makes them jealous. But? You really don’t have to do that in order to make me feel better. I knew that dad hated this party. It was stupid to ask him to do it anyways.”

Looking to her phone, Y/N wanted to call Joel and rip him a new asshole. Sure, she was used to Joel dropping out on her and letting her down, but Joel never let Elizabeth down. To see her daughter so upset made her heart break.

“Well if you don’t want to dance—how about the three of us go get some dessert? Chocolate always makes me feel better,” Negan curled his arms around both Elizabeth’s and Peter’s shoulders pulling them in closer. Peter laughed out loud and pressed his hand in over the center of Negan’s chest to try to pull back. “What do you say?”

“Sure,” Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders getting up with Negan and her brother to go toward the food area together.

Grabbing her phone, Y/N pulled up Joel’s contact information and went to call him. Thinking twice she realized that the whole room didn’t need to know their business. Instead she started writing him a text and didn’t think twice about sending it.

You broke your daughter’s heart tonight. I don’t care about you blowing off the dance, but she really wanted to recreate that photo with you Joel. You should be here if only for her.

Waiting, she stared at her phone and saw that Joel had read the text. Instead of getting a response, she was just left on read which infuriated her.

“God, he’s such a dick,” a familiar voice rumbled behind her causing her to look over her shoulder to see that Joel was kneeling in beside her. His dark hair was slicked back and he was wearing a black suit with a black dress shirt underneath. Shock filled her eyes when she looked him over. Never in the past would he be caught dressing this nice at one of these parties. “You want me to go beat him up for you? I can if you’d like.”

Joel was pointing back toward another area of the room and she felt her face getting hot when she turned to face him in her chair, “Tommy said you weren’t coming.”

“I wasn’t,” Joel replied back with a smirk, his dimples sinking in with his brown eyes narrowing. “But then I realized last minute I did make a promise to my daughter and I keep my promises to my children.”

“Good,” she breathed out realizing just how close Joel truly was to her. There was a warmth that flooded into her face which she assumed was from the anger that had been building up before he showed up. “Where did you find that suit?”

“I had it from our last anniversary,” Joel lowered his head to look over himself and he shrugged his shoulders. Caressing his hand in over the center of his chest, Joel gave her a weak smile. “I just thought maybe this would be a good time to bring it out and actually wear it.”

“You look good,” she mused smelling his cologne from where she was seated. It made her eyes come to a tight close because of how used to it she had become growing up.

“So do you,” Joel commented eyeing over the red dress that she was wearing. This one wasn’t as revealing as the dress that she had worn on her first date with Negan, but it still did bring attention to her curves. It should have offended her that Joel was eyeing over her breasts again, but it didn’t. “Is that a new dress?”

“Yeah,” she was honest knowing that Joel had made comments already about her dressing different for Negan. Nodding his head, Joel looked her over again before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss against her cheek. By the time he pulled back, Y/N felt a lump in her throat staring into his chocolate-colored eyes. “Elizabeth is going to be happy that you’re here.”

In the distance, Joel could see that Elizabeth was heading back with Negan and Peter. Waiting, Joel didn’t stand until Elizabeth was near the table. Once her eyes fell upon Joel, a huge smile developed over her features and she eagerly set her plate down. Swiftly moving forward, Joel accepted Elizabeth into his arms when she jumped into them to wrap her arms tightly around his shoulders.

“You’re here!” she buried her nose against the side of Joel’s neck, hugging him tight. Considering how sad Elizabeth was when she learned that Joel wasn’t attending the party? This was a nice change of pace for Y/N. More than anything she liked seeing her children happy. And Joel made her children happy. “Uncle Tommy said you weren’t coming.”

“I changed my mind,” Joel kissed at the side of Elizabeth’s face letting out a groan when he lowered her back to her feet. “I wasn’t going to turn down spending time with my children at Christmas time. My daughter asked me to be here and I made sure that I was. Because you both are more important than anything else in my life.”

“Look at you dad,” Peter muttered setting down his plate at the table. Moving around the crowd, Peter moved in front of Joel who stepped back to look over himself. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look nice like this.”

“Thanks for that,” Joel snickered reaching out to wrap his arm around Peter’s shoulders to pull him close. Even though Peter was being blunt about him never looking that good, he knew what his son was trying to say. “You look good too.”

“I always look good,” Peter gave a big cheesy smile when Joel released him. Chuckling at his son’s antics, Joel pat the side of Peter’s face and shook his head. Rosita and Siddiq had just returned to the table with Coco as the group of them were talking.

Turning on his heel, Joel stopped when he saw Negan helping Elizabeth back into her seat. When she sat down, Negan held his hand out to Joel and offered a weak smile, “You do look sharp Joel. You clean up nice.”

“Right,” Joel looked down at Negan’s hand and there was tension in his features. Elizabeth was staring between the two of them along with Peter and Joel swallowed down hard. Accepting Negan’s handshake, Joel put a bit of pressure to it making Negan huff. Releasing Negan’s hand, Joel took the empty seat between where Siddiq was sitting and Elizabeth leaving Negan to lower down between Elizabeth and Peter again.

“That wasn’t at all awkward,” Rosita whispered as Negan’s hazel eyes connected with Y/N’s. Giving Negan an empathetic look, Y/N felt bad that this was becoming so awkward with Joel and Negan. Shaking his head, Negan didn’t want to draw attention to the negativity when he started talking to Peter about the desserts that they grabbed. “Joel is asserting his dominance.”

There was nothing Y/N could say. Rosita wasn’t wrong. Even by the way Joel kept shooting daggers at Negan with his eyes, Y/N could tell that there was an intense anger that Joel felt toward Negan. Negan felt it too, but he was doing his best to blow it off and keep doing what he had been doing this whole time. He was being civilized and polite despite how Joel was being.

“So…” Rosita picked up on the fact that the table went silent after Joel’s arrival. Things got weird. Even the children realized it. “What do you all want from Santa this year?”

Snickering to herself, Y/N covered her mouth to hide the amusement that she had from her friend trying to start some kind of conversation between all of them. It was somewhat successful because it got Peter talking about something he wanted for Christmas and it drew a conversation that interested Siddiq.

“Hey,” Negan leaned forward, pressing his hand over the table to brace himself. Getting Y/N’s attention, she leaned in closer in attempts to hear him over the music and loud talking that surrounded them. “Do you want to dance?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed, her eyes following Negan after he whispered something to Elizabeth who nodded. Outstretching his hand, Negan helped Y/N out of her seat leading her toward the dancefloor. Joel’s eyes followed them all the way out to where they were. Turning away from Joel, she allowed Negan to wrap his arm around her hips to pull her close to him. With Negan hooking his fingers with hers she tried to focus solely on him. “I’m sorry about Joel.”

“I’m used to Joel,” Negan insisted with a wrinkle of his nose knowing that she was uncomfortable as it was. “You don’t have to apologize for Joel. His actions aren’t gonna make me wanna spend any less time with you and the children.”

“Most people would go running the other way,” she noted with how aggressive Joel had been toward Negan.

“I grew up with Joel. I know what he’s capable of,” Negan smirked with a shake of his head. Most men would be very uncomfortable with an ex-husband like Joel Miller, but Negan took everything in stride. “Plus? I’m a pro baseball player. I understand people can be aggressive. Players, fans, photographers…”

“Good point,” she shrugged as Negan continued to lead her on the dance floor. She was pleasantly surprised how good Negan actually was at dancing. “I don’t know how you do it. Handle everyone and continue to stay so calm. People eat out of the palm of your hand.”

“It’s really easy,” Negan commented spinning her about having her laughing as he did it. When she stumbled back in against his chest, he bit down on his bottom lip and snickered. “It’s all in the eyes. You lock eyes with the person you are with, you do something nice and even if it’s for a second that person is going to walk away thinking they’ve had an amazing experience. Even if you’re being cheeky and kind of an asshole. You keep good eye contact, give a nice smile and people suddenly become manageable.”

“Well, yeah, but you have those ridiculous dimples to help you,” she reminded Negan, lifting her free hand to squeeze at his cheeks. Snorting, Negan chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. “Everyone is going to fall for those.”

“You can thank my daddy for those,” Negan snorted, stealing a quick kiss from her lips. “I am happy that you like them though.”

“There are so many good qualities to you,” she assured him, resting her head against the center of his chest while they danced. Cuddling his chin in against the top of her head, Negan hummed as they danced together.

“Liz is getting what she wanted,” Negan interrupted her thoughts causing her to look over her shoulder to see that Joel had joined Elizabeth out on the dancefloor. At the side of the dance floor it looked like Peter was taking photos of the two of them together. That alone made her happy since that was what Elizabeth had wanted all along. “You know, the only thing I worry about in our relationship is putting a wedge between him and the children. They do love him a lot and with him almost not coming here today…”

“It’s not your fault though,” she cut Negan off, placing her hand in over the center of Negan’s chest noticing the way his hazel eyes were watching Joel with Elizabeth. By the expression she could tell that he was blaming himself for Joel originally deciding not to show up tonight. There was probably some truth to it because Joel was jealous, but it wasn’t all Negan’s fault. “Joel never liked coming to these things. More than once I had to deny going up on stage and doing that stupid dance because Joel hated it. When we were younger Joel was very affectionate publicly, but the older we got the more private he grew. And he hated going to public events. This is completely out of his comfort zone.”

“If you were mine, I would have been showing you off to everyone every chance I was given,” Negan claimed, his eyelids growing heavy with him staring down at her. There it was again. Just with his words, he could take her breath away. “I know I was always the more outgoing one, but when you love someone, you want to step a little out of your comfort zone. Just to show them how much you care about them.”

“You are something else,” she whispered in awe of him, her fingers sweeping in against the side of his face. Something seemed to catch Negan’s attention in the distance evoking him to chuckle. Looking back, she was curious, “What?”

“His moves are a little rusty,” Negan pointed out with them both watching Joel together with Elizabeth. Out on the dancefloor Joel looked stiff as a board while he danced with his daughter.

“Don’t let him fool you. He knows how to dance,” Y/N informed Negan enjoying the way that Elizabeth laughed with Joel stumbling over himself. “He’s doing that to make her feel special. He wants to make her laugh and have her lead him.”

“Ah, that’s smooth,” Negan responded with a long exhale urging Y/N back to look at him while they danced together. “I can tell that he hates me.”

“He hates…most people,” she didn’t want to let that thought eat away at Negan. “He’s just not very happy with life right now and takes it out on others. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Well, I am,” Negan admitted, pulling her in closer to him and licking his lips. “You and I are getting closer and he doesn’t like that. And he doesn’t like that I’m close to the children. I know it’s a jealousy thing. But he’s just gonna have to deal because I’m not going anywhere.”

Smirking, she was glad to hear him say that. Especially since a lot of people would be intimidated and run the other way. Negan could have anyone in this town. Yet he chose to spend time with her. And he wasn’t letting Joel chase him away. That alone was impressive and really made her feel special.

“There is something strange about this town. I mean there always fucking was,” Negan rambled on, swirling her around a bit on the dance floor. “I can never really tell if the people are always staring at me because of who I am. Or they are surprised that the two of us are together.”

“What do you mean by that?” she wondered, looking around realizing that Negan was right. People were watching the two of them. Stealing looks here and there.

“I do question if most of this town thinks it should be Joel that is here with you. Not me,” Negan stressed what he was feeling, his head tipping from side to side. Confusion flooded her features at the idea and Negan shrugged. “I think people expect to see Joel with you. Not me.”

“I think I would go more with the whole gawking because you are a celebrity thing,” she thought aloud, hooking her arms around Negan’s neck as they slow danced together. Stroking her fingers at the dark curls of hair at the bottom of his neck, she shrugged simply. “Joel and I have been split up for over four years now. People aren’t going to suddenly get back together after four years. If the people aren’t used to the idea of me being with someone else? Well, that’s their problem.”

“Still, people get certain ideas in their heads,” Negan grumbled under his breath, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. “Instead of seeing a person as a person, they see them as a duo. It was never just Negan. It was Negan and Lucille for these kind of people. Small towns. For you. It was Joel and Y/N. Y’know? I think they get confused to see that Negan Smith got thrown into the mix when it was always Joel and Y/N.”

“I think the people of this town were always too eager to throw their noses in other people’s business,” Y/N offered her input on the situation. “It was part of what I wanted to get away from. Small towns. Big judgements. Hateful opinions. People who didn’t keep their mouths shut about things that didn’t relate to them. Truthfully? They can think whatever they want. It’s a small town, it’s what you expect. But I don’t care what people think. Because I like spending time with you and that’s all that matters to me. I wish we could have been doing it all along.”

“The spending time together or the sex part?” Negan joked with a snort, getting her to lower one of her hands to swat at the center of his chest. “I’m just kidding. I wish we would have been doing this all along too. I missed you. Very fucking much.”

“Ditto,” she replied, tipping up on her toes to meet Negan in a lingering kiss.

“Can I be honest with you about something? And not have you get upset with me?” Negan breathed against her lips speaking softly. A nervous nod followed, but she didn’t know what to expect with Negan’s eyes narrowing once he looked her over. “The person in charge of this event came to me. They wanted to make you and me the snow king and queen this year. I thought it would be wrong using my celebrity status for something like that. Especially since I don’t even live here. So I asked them to make Tommy and Maria the king and queen this year.”

“Well that’s really sweet,” she stressed to Negan who tipped his head to the side, surprised that was the first thing to come out of her mouth. “What did you expect from me? To be highly angry and upset that you didn’t allow us to stand in front of the town uncomfortably?”

“I don’t know,” Negan admitted, his hazel eyes searching hers in amazement. “I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t want to have the spotlight on us or anything. I really care about you and I don’t want this to seem like some kind of publicity stunt to get attention.”

“I support your decision completely,” she hushed him, bringing him in to press another quick kiss against his lips. “I’m not offended at all and I actually think you made the right decision.”

After the song was over, someone got up on stage which had the music dying out. The room grew quiet and everyone had stopped dancing. Realizing that they were about to get to the whole traditions of the party, she hooked her hand with Negan’s while heading back to the table. This time Elizabeth had moved to sit by Joel while they talked so Y/N took the seat between Negan and Peter. A lot of the talking was promoting the local businesses that helped put this party together.

“I find this whole thing to be embarrassing,” she leaned forward to whisper in Negan’s ear while he sat beside her. “Having to go up on stage, accept this honorary award even though we’re divorced and no longer together. Some of these couples haven’t been together in a very long time. It’s just strange.”

“I understand,” Negan leaned in to press a kiss against her cheek hoping to calm her since she was obviously uncomfortable about what was going on.

At this point they were calling all of the past winners up on stage. Embarrassment was flooding her entire body. Some of the couples they were calling up were both younger and older than them. And all the while? Joel’s chocolate-colored eyes were locked on her, watching her closely. By the time that they called their names, neither Joel nor Y/N moved.

“Dad! Mom!” Elizabeth nudged Joel who rolled his eyes. Negan gave Y/N’s shoulder a firm squeeze hinting things would be okay and that he was there to support her. Standing up, Joel extended his hand out slowly. Looking to his hand, Y/N accepted it and moved around the table. While others were excited to have the spotlight put on them again, quickly moving to the stage, the two of them were taking their time.

“Don’t act like you hate this,” Joel grumbled under his breath, his fingers hooking with hers tightly. Joel was speaking quietly enough so only she would be able to hear him. “There was a time when you loved this. Every time we won this, you were awe stricken.”

“I was head over heels in love with you Joel,” she reminded him as he helped her up the stairs of the stage. They made it to about mid-stage where they stopped with the other couples. “The fact the people of the town thought we were the ‘it’ couple for so long made me feel special back then.”

“You didn’t need the town to make you feel special,” Joel whispered, the warmth of his breath lingering over her flesh. From where they were on stage, it was hard to see anyone out in the audience. There was a bright spotlight that was pointed directly at them and it was very blinding. “You liked having the attention. It’s okay to admit that.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to count to herself knowing that there was so much she wanted to say, but now was not the time or place.  She wasn’t paying much attention to the people that were on stage when they started handing out sashes to the previous winners. Allowing them to put her sash on while they worked Joel’s over his shoulder, she let out a long sigh. Looking at the dates they won, she realized that they had won this five times in the past. Dragging her fingers over the dates, she felt her throat tightening up thinking about her past. As the lights dimmed, she looked back over her shoulder. This was just like every other year, but for some reason things were bothering her more. Each year they took a photo of each of the winners where they would play a video in the background showing all of the photos. Obviously, some of the couples were missing. Due to them moving, or not being here anymore. By the time the video got to their first time winning, it made a breath catch in her throat. Their first win was when Joel was eighteen. Seeing the young photo of them had an ache growing at the center of her chest.

“These are so creepy,” Joel whispered in her ear looking over his shoulder like she was. “This feels like a remembrance video. Like I’m dead or something and I’m not. You’re not. This feels less like a celebration and more like a sorrowful remembrance of what things used to be.”

Really? He wasn’t wrong. That’s exactly what this felt like. 

Each photo of the two of them together had that lump in her throat growing. For a couple that was together sixteen years and married thirteen of those years, winning this thing five times was actually a pretty good record. Even in the photos, they looked so happy in the first four. And back then that made her proud. Their relationship felt so happy for so long and the town saw it too. The last time they won snow king and queen together was five years before they got divorced. After that? They stopped winning it. Maybe that was right around the time their relationship started going to shit. The town likely picked up on them not being that loving, obvious couple out in public.

“Our town has always been old fashioned,” she responded to Joel who let out a long exhale. By his breathing she could tell that Joel didn’t want to be up there. Really, she didn’t want to be either. It was the one time she actually agreed with Joel.

By the time the lights came back on Joel was playing with his sash, his attention hardly kept. Hearing the announcement of the newest snow king and queen came with a bit of a shock for Joel. Just like Negan had told her, it was Tommy and Maria. Confusion flooded through Joel’s features when the spotlight was pointed directly at his little brother and his new girlfriend.

“The two of them have only been together…what…two weeks?” Joel grumbled under his breath, tensing up beside her when Tommy slowly stood from his chair and started to help Maria out of her seat. “I guess since he’s dating the mayor’s daughter that makes sense though.”

That wasn’t something she was going to comment on. Especially since she knew this was Negan’s doing with having Tommy and Maria winning. That would certainly piss Joel off to no end. So she kept her mouth shut. 

“I imagine daddy has something to do with this, don’t you?” Joel stammered as Tommy helped Maria move up the steps of the stage. Nudging Joel slightly with her arm, she tried to get him to be quiet. Both Tommy and Maria seemed awkward as they accepted their sashes along with their crowns. Clearly, neither one of them expected to win this which put them on the spot. And Tommy was never really someone that liked being the center of attention. Especially with a town that was so quick to judge him for his mistakes.

“Maybe more people noticed their diner meet ups than they thought?” Y/N suggested with a sigh feeling a bit embarrassed with the part that was coming up with the dancing. “I never really understood how they picked them anyways. But at least they picked Tommy. Tommy has never been picked for anything. So he has to feel good.”

“Or incredibly nervous because nothing ever works for Tommy,” Joel reminded her as she hushed him by covering his mouth with her fingers. Glaring over at Y/N with her covering his mouth, Joel reached for her wrist curling his fingers loosely around them. Getting her to lower her hand, Joel bit down on his bottom lip and huffed. In that moment Tommy had looked back at Joel who had given Tommy a thumbs up and it made Tommy smile.

“Be supportive of this Joel,” she urged him allowing the person in charge to give the instructions. Which told them all to get on the dancefloor together. This was the part that made her the most uncomfortable. Having to dance with Joel again in front of everyone. Taking her hand in his, Joel led her carefully down the stairs toward the center of the ballroom. Tension flooded Joel’s body when he hooked his thick fingers with hers. As the music started, they both did their best to not show their discomfort with one another while they danced. “This will be a big deal for Tommy. This is the first time in a long time I think he’s felt this way about anyone or anything really.”

“Everything is a big deal with Tommy,” Joel claimed, keeping his voice down since Tommy wasn’t too far away from where they were dancing. “Speaking of big deals, am I to assume that you and Negan are now dating?”

“And that’s your business how?” she shot back eliciting an eye roll from Joel. Scoffing under his breath, Joel visibly didn’t like her answer.

“That’s a yes,” he was quick to respond being a bit rough with the way he pulled her in closer to him.

“That’s not a yes,” she shook her head, her eyes showing the irritation she had for him right now. “I was saying it was none of your business, but if you must know…we haven’t put a label on things. We’re just spending time together.”

“So I reckon that means that the two of you slept together, huh?” Joel caused her to grow hot in the face with her looking down between them. That told him everything and she didn’t have to say a word. “Nice Y/N.”

“You were the one telling me that I should have got laid by someone other than you,” she recalled what Joel had said to her that night at the historic village when she brought up their relationship. “You can’t get mad at me for finding comfort with someone else when you were dating Tess. Or when you’ve slept with God knows who…”

“I didn’t want you running off to Negan Smith,” Joel snarled down at her realizing that he was getting a little loud and he lowered his voice. Hearing that had her face growing hot with anger. “Of all the people you decide to knock boots with, it’s him? Him of all people?”

“What do you have against Negan?” she asked bluntly noticing that Joel was staring off toward the table that they were sitting at previously. His dark eyes seemed to be locked on Negan who threw them a thumbs up from where he was seated beside both Peter and Elizabeth. “He was one of your best friends at one point. We both were close to him.”

“Was being the main word there. He kicked you out of his life the moment that we got together,” Joel reminded her of what Negan had done in the past. Narrowing his eyes, Joel turned them away from looking at the table so that she was focused on him. “What has Negan told you about me?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she felt like this was more so an interrogation instead of the two of them dancing together. Which is exactly why she wasn’t looking forward to this at all. “What is Negan supposed to tell me about you exactly?”

“Nothing,” Joel declared, loosening up while they continued to dance. Watching Tommy, Joel did notice that he did look happy while he talked to Maria. There was a color in Tommy’s face, but he never stopped smiling while he danced with the woman before him. It reminded him of how things used to be when he was with Y/N when they were younger. “You know, I never expected us to be like this. I never thought I’d have to worry about you finding someone else.”

“That’s not really fair, is it?” she felt her heart racing in her chest having a chill run down her spine with the way that Joel’s hand settled in over the small of her back. Having his chocolate brown eyes staring out at her the way he was took her breath away. “You’re allowed to find someone else, but I’m not?”

“I just mean…” Joel let his thoughts linger, his voice growing quiet when he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know Y/N. I remember doing this the first time almost two decades ago. I felt like the luckiest boy alive. I was smitten. And then when we won the second time the year we got married, I don’t know. I just thought there was no way that I could ever get sick of this. Sick of you. Because I was so in love with you and I saw what the town saw that year. Because I never thought it would be possible that a man could love a woman as much as I loved you.”

Those words hit her harder than he expected them to. It had tears burning at her eyes and she grew tense against him, “I always thought it would be Joel and Y/N. Us against the world. And I thought we’d grow old together. I never saw another option. Because you were it for me.”

“Damn it Joel,” she stopped dancing, but her hand was still hooked with his. A hurt exhale fell from her throat when she shook her head. There were tears over her face now causing an ache to grow at the center of his chest. “You’re the one that asked me for a divorce. You’re the one that came to me with papers and now you’re talking like I’m the reason that we are divorced.”

By now Tommy had caught on to the fact that Y/N was crying. He was trying to force himself to keep dancing, but his dark eyes had a hard time breaking away from Joel and Y/N. Right now they allowed everyone else to come up onto the dance floor to dance and she was thankful for it because it drew any attention on them away with the couples that actually loved each other and cared about one another wanting to spend the time together.

“I did everything I could to try to fix us,” her hand was shaking when she lifted it to place it over the center of her chest. “I loved you with everything that I was. I would have done anything to fix our marriage, but you’re the one who wanted it to end. Not me. So how dare you say all of this to me? I’m not the reason we’re divorced Joel. You are. I begged you to reconsider. And you wouldn’t.”

Dropping his head, Joel’s dark eyes avoided looking at her when she threw her hands up in the air, “I felt everything you said you felt in the past. I was happy. I loved my life and even though you were so fucking mean toward the end of our marriage…I knew that it was just you depressed. Because deep down you loved me. You were an amazing man. You made a life for your family. You loved your children so much, but each day you were with me I saw you die a little more inside. Do you know how much it hurt to have you blame everything on me?”

“I didn’t blame everything on you,” Joel reasoned with her hoping that everyone wasn’t hearing what they were saying. Rolling her eyes, she started heading away from Joel, pushing through him to get away from the dance floor. More than anything she needed some air and to get away from everyone. No one needed to see her crying like a fool. Leaving the ballroom, she was close to getting outside by the time she felt someone grabbing a tight hold of her wrist to stop her. “Can we just talk? Please?”

“What do you want to talk about Joel?” she inquired feeling broken as it was. “Do you know that the children blamed me when we got divorced? Asked me why I didn’t fight harder for you? Why I let you leave? They were so mad at me for forcing you out. I never had the heart to tell them that their father was the one that wanted to run away. That it was him that couldn’t stand to be in that house anymore.”

“We were both miserable,” Joel suggested, his fingers slowly falling from her wrist when he rest his hands at his hips. “If we wanted a healthy relationship with our children…”

“Don’t,” she held her hand up in the air to cut him off. “I wasn’t miserable. I was heartbroken because I didn’t understand what it was that I did to make you hate me so much. You went from being the sweetest, most affectionate man I had ever known to being a man who reminded me every day the mistake you made in picking me. In picking us.”

“The mistake I made was how I treated you,” Joel grumbled, his jaw flexing with her sobs filling the hallway. Seeing her crying like that had his chest hurting. He wanted her pain to end, but he didn’t know how to fix it. “I had the whole world in my hands, but all I could think about was what I didn’t have. What I was robbed of. It’s not fair that I had to give up my life for everyone else Y/N. I could have been someone. I could have meant something to the world, but instead I’m stuck in this fucking place.”

“You were always someone Joel,” she stressed, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “You were the boy that was selfless and chose to take care of his brother instead of leaving him with strangers. You were a father. You were my husband. And you were and you still are so incredibly loved. So for you to think you haven’t left an impact on this world is sad because you did. That was the problem. You could only see the life that you missed out on. Not the life that you built for yourself. The life that loved you so very much.”

“I’m sorry,” Joel found himself at a loss of words. Caressing at the back of his neck, he tried to gather his thoughts. “I don’t know what to say because my emotions are conflicted about everything that happened. I know how I felt when we were married, but I know how I feel now. And how I feel about you is strong. I made the mistake back then. Not when I got married to you because being married to you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You play with me Joel,” she held her hands up to stop him when he approached her and she placed her hands in over his chest to keep the distance between them. “You take advantage of the fact that I’m head over heels in love with you. You know how I feel about you. You always have.”

Silence filled the empty hallways. Nothing but the sounds from the ballroom where the party was being held were heard. It made her let out an ironic laugh and she shook her head.

“Do you have any idea how many times we’ve had sex since we’ve separated?” she quizzed him on something hearing a loud exhale follow from Joel. Taking a moment to think things over, Joel threw his hand up in the air and she nodded her head. “You’d be surprised how big the number is Joel. Even moments where you were dating Tess…”

“I’m aware,” Joel was confused where this was headed noticing the tremoring in her voice with her speaking. Having her remind him that he cheated on Tess to be with her would only further for him that Y/N was more important to him.

“You always come back to me. You always make me believe that you love me. That there is something between us, but I always end up the same way,” she hissed, her voice growing louder and Joel motioned her to keep calm. “Alone.”

Joel’s lips parted, his eyebrows furrowing when he tried to think of something to say, “You don’t love me. You just love what I can do for you. If you actually loved me, if you missed how things were you would do something to prove it Joel.”

“I don’t know how,” Joel called out to her when she turned on her heel and started to push open the door.

“And that’s the problem,” she didn’t even bother to look back at him when she made her way outside. Pretty quickly she realized just how much of a mistake it was to come outside with no jacket on, but she didn’t care. She needed her space. Heading into where the garden would be during the summer, she went to the center and tried to catch her breath. The sound of snow crunching behind her was heard and it made her tense up. “Joel, damn it…”

“Not Joel,” another familiar southern drawl was heard behind her when she turned around to see that Tommy was approaching her. The sight of him still wearing the crown and the sash that he wore tonight took her breath away. The last thing Tommy should have been doing was chasing her out. “What did he do now?”

“Tommy, you shouldn’t be out here,” she attempted to wipe at the tears that were over her face knowing that this should be a happy moment for Tommy, but instead he was following her out because he had seen her sad.

“Of course I should be,” Tommy stepped forward, stretching his arms out to reach for Y/N. Embracing her in his arms, he pulled her in against him and wrapped her up tightly. Squeezing her firmly, she knew that he was attempting to comfort her. “I love you. You’re my family and to see you upset makes me upset.”

“I love you too,” she repeated, allowing her head to rest against the center of Tommy’s chest when he stroked his fingers over the back of her neck. “I’m sorry about this. You just know that your brother can get under my skin more than anyone.”

“What did he do now?” Tommy was desperate to know with her pushing back slightly to stare up at him with her tear-filled eyes. “Please talk to me. I’m not that little boy you had to adopt Y/N. I’m here for you. You were there for me. And you remain that way. So please talk to me.”

“Tommy,” she felt her chest aching seeing the sadness in Tommy’s eyes staring out at her. Reaching up, she adjusted his crown that he was given and she shook her head. “You should be in there celebrating this right now. You care so much about that girl…”

“And that girl knows what you’ve done for me,” Tommy educated her about Maria, his hands lifting to cup her face in them in a supportive sweep. “So she understands what you mean to me. We have all night to cherish this. I want to be here with you right now.”

“I’m just too emotional,” she brushed off her feelings, but Tommy hushed her and shook his head. “I don’t know Tommy, he just started talking about how he always pictured that we would be together. That I would be his always and it would be us against the world. The way he talks about things, it’s like he puts the blame on me for the divorce, but you know just as much as I do that he was the one that asked for the divorce. He’s the one that walked out on me. He’s the one that forced me to sign those papers. Yet, he talks like I fell out of love with him when you know that I never did.”

“I think he just has a lot of regrets,” Tommy tried to reason with her about his older brother. “He’s emotionally…constipated.”

A laugh fell from Y/N’s lips hearing Tommy refer to his brother in that way. With an innocent shrug, Tommy didn’t know how else to explain Joel, “I think there are so many emotions that he has bottled up inside of him that he doesn’t know how to handle. So he just puts up this tough guy exterior and he doesn’t know how to turn it off.”

“But he hurts me in the process,” she whimpered noticing the way that Tommy dug into his pockets for a tissue for her. “I probably look psychotic right now. My make up is likely running and…”

“It’s a good make up job because nothing is running,” Tommy assured her with a weak smile caressing his hand in over her shoulder. “I’m sorry about Joel. The biggest mistake he ever made was letting you go Y/N. And I think he’s starting to realize that.”

Laughing at the idea, Y/N shook her head and had to look away from Tommy to have a minute to consider that, “I don’t think having Negan around is helping him either.”

“Too bad,” Y/N stammered hating to hear that the person who was going above and beyond to help her feel better was such a problem to Joel. “Negan has been nothing but good to me. He goes out of his way to make me feel good about me. And he’s so good and accepting of all the things going on in my life.”

“And I wouldn’t expect you to let go of that,” Tommy claimed his hands lowering down to squeeze hers tenderly. “I’m just telling you that my brother is upset because ultimately he sees everything that he wanted to be in Negan. He wanted to be famous. He wanted to be able to go and use his talents to have the world loving him. Then Negan shows up and he has you smiling. He has you laughing. Anyone with eyes can tell that Negan likes you by the way he looks at you. Joel is jealous because he could never accomplish the things that Negan does. So he’s a bigger mess now than he ever was.”

“It’s not fair that now is the time he decides to do all of this,” she hated to be whining, but it hurt with what Joel was doing. “I was there for four years. He could have made his move, but now because I have someone who genuinely cares about me…”

Footsteps drew both Tommy and Y/N to look back seeing that it was Negan that was approaching them, “I can come back if you’d like?”

“Truthfully?” Tommy looked between Negan and Y/N letting out a tense breath. “I think you are probably the thing that she needs the most.”

“Tommy,” she called out to him, stroking her fingers over the back of Tommy’s hand. “You are the sweetest boy I’ve ever known.”

“And I wouldn’t have picked another woman to help raise me,” Tommy vowed, bringing her hand up to press a kiss over the back of it. “I’m always going to be here for you Y/N. Even if my brain isn’t always in the right place, I just want you happy. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” she repeated once more, stepping forward to wrap Tommy up in her arms to give him a big hug. Stroking her fingers over the back of Tommy’s head, she turned in to press a kiss against Tommy’s cheek. “Now you go in there and woo that girl. Show her how lucky she is to be sharing this moment with you.”

Nodding, Tommy slowly released her and then turned to Negan patting him on the arm, “Take care of her.”

“Yes sir,” Negan gave a wink starting to undo his suit jacket. Letting it fall down his arms, Negan carefully stepped forward moving in behind her. “Let’s warm you up.”

Allowing him to help put his jacket on her had her sighing loudly. Tugging the material in closer to her body, she felt the warmth of it soothing against her chilled skin. The scent of Negan’s cologne was strong and she found herself rubbing her cheek up against it. Closing her eyes, she felt Negan’s arms hooking around her from behind. A gentle kiss was placed against the base of her neck which had his short beard tickling at her flesh.

“Are you okay?” Negan nuzzled his nose against the back of her neck. Lowering her arms, she caressed over them while he comforted her.

“I’m sorry Negan,” she apologized, leaning back into him. Even though she had Negan who was perfect at that party, Joel was able to get under her skin so badly with the things that happened in their past. Firmly, Negan squeezed his arms around her and cuddled her close. “Here you are as my date and I’m having a meltdown outside.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Negan insisted with her turning in his arms to give him a doubtful expression. Lifting his hand, his palm caressed in over the side of her face with his eyelids growing heavy. The contrast from the warmth of his hand against the side of her face felt nice. “You don’t. I’m not upset with you. At all.”

“I don’t understand how you couldn’t be,” she replied placing her hands in over his chest to caress over the area. There was so much baggage that she had to deal with and Negan had been a saint so far in their relationship. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“And so am I,” Negan suggested with a grunt, his nose wrinkling as if that wasn’t a big deal to him. “I am so fucked up over losing Lucille. And it’s so hard for me every day being alive when I know that she’s not. I am still head over heels in love with my late wife, so I’m not going to judge you for being the same way about your ex-husband.”

Hearing him calling her out on still being in love with Joel drew her to tremor and she looked down, but he didn’t allow it. Curling his fingers in underneath her chin had her lifting her head to lock eyes with him, “The difference between me and you is that I had it easier.”

“How?” she blurt out, doubting that since the person he loved was no longer here.

“The woman that I loved, I lost. She’s gone,” Negan reasoned, his head tipping from side to side. “The love of my life died. But yours…he’s still here. And he left you knowing that you loved him like you do. Lucille left me not because she wanted to but because the world took her away from me. Joel left and you have to see him every day knowing that he’s there.”

“Well shit,” she grunted closing her eyes, leaning further into Negan’s touch. Gently he swept at her tears, still trying to calm her. 

“I understand if you want to be with Joel,” Negan was quiet in the way that he spoke making her eyes flutter to an open. Sweeping away one of her lingering tears, Negan hushed her and shook his head. “I won’t be mad at you for loving Joel. I know you do. I can see it in the way you look at him. If you want me to back off, I will happily do it. Fuck, I just need to make sure to keep you in my life as a friend or some shit because I can’t lose you again.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” she responded, her hands caressing in over Negan’s shoulders. Deeply considering what he said, she shook her head and let out a tremoring breath. “I love Joel, very much. And the man will always have a strong grasp on my heart, but no one has ever hurt me like Joel has. Joel broke my heart. And I’m a mess because of him.”

“You’re not a mess,” Negan whispered, caressing his fingers at the back of her neck. Pulling her in closer to him, Negan allowed her to rest her head against the center of his chest. “You’re just hurt. And you’re human. You loved Joel for a very long time, that kind of love is hard to let go of.” 

Tipping down, Negan pressed a tender kiss over her forehead and it had her sighing loudly, “I can’t be with Joel. As much as I love him, he will never love me back the same way. The only thing I’m destined for if I get back with Joel is a life full of pain. Loving someone that much and not feeling it in return? The only option from there on out is heart break. I’ve given him so many chances. And I can’t take any more of that because I don’t know how much of my heart I have left to break.”

“Come here,” Negan urged her to him, holding her close. Allowing her to calm down in his arms, Negan whispered the things that he knew she needed to hear. By the time she was finally relaxed, he had his chin resting over her head and he was rubbing at her back. “I think we should get you back inside before you freeze to death.”

Accepting his hand, she allowed Negan to cautiously lead her back to the building. Once they were back inside, Joel stepped out from behind the back wall where he had gone after she left the building. Originally he had chased after her but had fallen short when he heard her crying. There was nothing he could think of to make her feel better and before he could try, Tommy came out to comfort her. Which means he heard everything that she said to both Tommy and Negan.

Ultimately? It made him feel terrible and he knew that if he wanted something more with Y/N, he was going to have to do his best to show her that he loved her. One way or another.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[see-arcane]

8-year-old Quincey: "I want to surprise papa. I could try making him something without help. I know! Mamaliga! No... mamaliga is my favorite, I have to think about what is his favorite. And we all had the red chicken last week... I have to think of something he really loves... Oh!" *snatches a photo for reference and starts painstakingly drawing a picture of his mom*

Quincey: “Papa, I got you your favorite thing for Father’s Day!”

Jonathan: “What’s that?”

Quincey, brandishing his portrait: “Mama!” :D

Jonathan, adding it to the album: “Just what I wanted” c:

[lucybellwood]

Lemme tell you a gay little story about an eagle.

Our town (~9,000 people) has a couple garages, but there's a big one on the main drag. My family has been going there for decades. I drive past it every day.

There used to be a huge pine tree on the corner of their lot, but last year it became a hazard and had to be taken down.

Shortly thereafter I drive by and see they've hired a guy to chainsaw sculpt the stump into a bald eagle.

Birds own my heart, but nationalism makes me twitchy. I withhold outright condemnation of the eagle, but I'm skeptical. (The original owner—an objectively Good Dude—sold the business to a younger couple a few years ago, and I don't have any knowledge of their whole deal.)

Then it turns out someone on staff is really into making costumes for the eagle. Every holiday. Every month. Stuffed turkey, witch costume, menorah headpiece, bunny ears. These people love to dress their bird.

The changing of the eagle suit becomes a source of joy every time I drive through town.

Until June, when the eagle is bare.

Now look, maybe I'm expecting too much asking my garage to celebrate Pride. But this is a small town. Every time I drive by that stupid eagle—this thing that has previously brought me so much joy—I feel hurt. I feel reminded that there are plenty of people in my liberal bubble who don't consider my community worthy of celebration. I drive to work, I feel bad. I drive home, I feel bad. The eagle is mocking me.

Then my A/C quits working.

So I book an appointent to bring my car in—and realize what I have to do.

I pick all this up at a thrift store for under ten bucks. I print the shirt with some weird heat-transfer fabric crayons I find in a cupboard. I loop gold elastic around the sunglasses and pray they'll fit on the eagle's head. (It is also important to draw your attention to the price of the feather boa.)

(Nice.)

My reasoning is thus: if I show up with a complete costume ready to go, someone will have to look me in the eye and say "We don't believe in that," at which point I'll be finding a new garage. But if they let me dress the eagle, then people in town get to have the joy I've been missing since the start of the month.

I listen to a lot of hype-up jams on my way over. I hate confrontation. I also don't wanna have to find another garage. I want to believe that this decision isn't actively antagonistic, but I'm not particularly hopeful.

I talk through the A/C issue with the guy at the desk, hand over my keys, then take a deep breath.

"Who's in charge of the eagle?"

"Oh, that's all Dylan. Second bay from the end."

I walk down the row of hydraulic lifts and find a disarmingly smiley middle-aged man pouring fluid through a funnel. I introduce myself and explain that, since the Pride parade is this Sunday and the eagle seems to be missing a costume, I have taken the liberty of making one myself, and can I get his blessing to go put it on?

Dylan grins this absolutely giant grin and goes

"Oh hell yeah."

So that's what's up now.

Happy Pride.

[astonmartinii]

i love him, it's ruining my life [guilty as sin part one] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

a contract ends, a relationship is exposed and even with everything on the line, she still loves him.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 621,099 others

yourusername: out and about town

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user1: girl? girl? GIRL?

user2: carlos' career is DEAD AND SHE'S POSTING VACATION PICS ON INSTAGRAM

user3: at least they're cute instagram pics

landonorris: y/n i think it's time you finally take that phone off of do not disturb

yourusername: but that's the perpetual state of my phone i am a poet i was born to be in the woods, if you have news tell me now before i close this app in 20 seconds

landonorris: i don't want to air your brother's business out in a public instagram comments literally just scroll through your timeline idiot

yourusername: wait let me open the family group chat

yourusername: WHAT

user4: are we about to see her reaction to carlos losing his seat in real time?

user5: let me grab my popcorn one sec

yourusername: WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?

landonorris: take your phone off DND for once in your life and maybe you’d be clued in on the news

charles_leclerc: and while you’re at it reply to all the tiktoks i sent you

landonorris: not the time leclerc

charles_leclerc: but but but my tiktoks… i finally got a tarot card reading that resonates

landonorris: NOT THE TIME

charles_leclerc: don’t hate the player hate the game

carlossainz55: really?

charles_leclerc: i am TALKING ABOUT TIKTOKS LEAVE ME ALONE

yourusername: this is a lot - gosh can’t a girl go on holiday without everything imploding (i'll check the tiktoks in a second)

user6: anyone kinda weirded out that charles is just here joking with y/n as if his teammate and her brother hasn’t just been forced out of a job?

liked by carlossainz55

user7: babe he wasn’t forced out of a job, his contract wasn’t renewed. the last time i checked this was a sport where they compete not sit around and sit kumbaya

liked by charles_leclerc

user8: oh! they’re both liking shady comments already, it’s been a day since the announcement

user9: this is gonna get ugly isn’t it?

user10: awful, truly. i’m sat.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,029,458 others

carlossainz55: love all, trust a few and do wrong to none

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user11: .... right, what ever the fuck that means?

user12: i mean i was just here to celebrate the win what is all this poetry

user11: are we shading charles? lewis? ferrari?

yourusername: shakespeare, really?

carlossainz55: i can read you know

yourusername: oh really, that's news to me

user13: erm you guys i thought the whole job loss thing was meant to bring the family together....

user14: they joke like this all the time this is just sibling banter

user15: idk it's reading a lil more tense than usual, not that there's any reason for that (that we know of)

charles_leclerc: doing the tifosi proud ❤️

carlossainz55: will do while i can

user16: yall .... what happened to the chemistry

user17: they were never friends - pierre tried to tell yall

landonorris: a carlando podium !!! lets do this every week

carlossainz55: golf buddies and podium buddies - you love to see it

landonorris: LETS GO WILD AND PUT IT ON FERRARIS TAB THEY OWE YOU

landonorris: i mean let's celebrate your triumph good pal!

user18: the PR monster got lando :( rip

carlossainz55: just being able to win in front of the most important people in my life is enough

user19: does anyone else think it was weird that y/n wasn't at the race?

user20: like y/n loves australia she litr says that she was an aussie in a past life...

user21: also the most recent carlos comment... is y/n not one of the most important people in his life?

user22: do we think something has happened? like maybe he thought she should've cut her holiday short to come home to support him?

user23: also the fact that her and charles were immediately like joking around with each other? maybe it just rubbed him the wrong way

user24: but not even considering her an important person to him? and also that just seems like he's shifting all the blame to charles when it's ferrari who haven't extended the contract

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 892,309 others

tagged: kellypiquet & yourusername

maxverstappen1: she says she's a professional third wheel, i call that being a LEECH

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user29: unlikely trio but somehow my favourite

user30: y/n really be their overgrown child

yourusername: how am i the leech when i paid for the ice cream mr millionaire ����

maxverstappen1: ever thought about how i want to spend quality time with my girlfriend?

yourusername: won't someone think of the children

maxverstappen1: ur 23

yourusername: that's it! p and i are unionising against this if you find suspiciously well drawn crayon graffiti on your walls it was NOT me

maxverstappen1: don't threaten my walls if you still want to come to races

yourusername: low blow 😩

user31: does that mean... she's not going to races with carlos?

user32: she's always been in his garage tho like even with how close her and max have always been SHE'S ALWAYS IN GARAGE 55

user33: i feel like this has something to do with the whole seat situation i'm not sure how but like i think there's something weird going on here

kellypiquet: don't worry @yourusername it might be max's house but it's p that has the final say

yourusername: no one gets bluey like i do

maxverstappen1: yeah but while you're here you get the best seat at the tea party IT'S NOT FAIR

yourusername: well one of us can name all the disney princesses and one of us can't

user34: so.... y/n is living with max? but i thought her and carlos shared an apartment in madrid?

user35: guys i'm so confused

user36: we need the twitter detectives on this asap

charles_leclerc: no lec... when i specifically sent you a PR bundle, you hate to see it

maxverstappen1: you only sent that to us for y/n

charles_leclerc: maybe! but i have it on good authority that you loved the vanilla

maxverstappen1: ummmmmmm no i'm a professional athlete, y/n ate all of it

yourusernames: FALSEHOODS

charles_leclerc: i know who i believe

maxverstappen1: why is everyone ganging up on me in this comment section

user37: charles sending lec to max's house just for y/n WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN

user38: and does it have anything to do with carlos maybe kicking her out

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 673,892 others

yourusername: gotta make sure i give p a reason to tell me stick around

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user39: charles is always in the likes before me and i have notifications on

user40: they seem like such close friends it's so annoying that they're never spotted together at a race and we have no pictures of them :(

charles_leclerc: why do i never get any baked goods i literally sent my ice cream to my arch rivals house just for you

yourusername: you're never in the fucking country that's why

charles_leclerc: i have this kind of demanding job i don't know if you knew

yourusername: i also have the demanding job of being sexy and i cope just fine

charles_leclerc: i heard you got employee of the year, hard to be too upset when you're the competition

yourusername: better luck next time babe

user41: openly flirting with the guy that caused her brother to lose his job, this girl is just shameless

yourusername: do you think charles is the literal ceo of ferrari?

user42: why are you defending charles more than your actual brother?

yourusername: i feel like i gotta make this statement every three buisness days on here but like you people don't know what happens in our personal lives and i can defend my friends if i feel they're being unnecessarily questioned

user43: queen snapped omg

user38: they always be out here trying her like she's not a writer and poet SHE WILL READ YOU FOR FILTH

maxverstappen1: pretty sure she'd replace you with me in like two seconds so you're safe until [redacted] gets home

yourusername: i'm pretty sure with the right campaign i could sway jimmy and sassy to my side as well

user44: who the FUCK IS REDACTED

maxverstappen1: wouldn't you like to know 🤨

yourusername: max ???

maxverstappen1: what? i didn't have friends growing up i like that you tell me secrets

yourusername: oh :(

maxverstappen1: you wanna tell me more?

yourusername: NO YOU ALREADY KNOW THE BIGGEST ONE

maxverstappen1: true 💅🏻

user45: so like the secret is defo a relationship right?

user46: do we think carlos knows?

user47: by the fact that he's not in these comments... probably not

user48: so like he looses his seat and finds out his sister is in a secret relationship? someone give the guy a break

user49: or maybe, just maybe, there's a reason that y/n hasn't told carlos and he's not the guy we all think he is

liked by charles_leclerc

user50: OH? this war is so on ....

f1teaspill

liked by user51, user52 and 31,845 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

f1teaspill: the war at ferrari is heating up... turns out there's a lot carlos didn't know and FOR YEARS. yes, you're reading that right, y/n sainz and charles leclerc have been in a relationship for at least two years and believe us we have a VERY credible source like WITHIN THE FAMILY level source.

the most important thing about this whole relationship is how carlos did not know for years, so how much more was hidden from him? did y/n know about the seat swap for lewis? was she leaking strategies to charles? was she sabotaging her own brother?

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user53: OH SHITTTTTTTTTT

user54: cancel me if you will but i think the hottest couple in f1 just dropped

user55: the fact we've been robbed of content of them for years .... i'm angry I NEED THE POETRY ABOUT CHARLES

user56: i'm gonna need y/n or charles to drop all the pics in response

user57: y'all a source "within the family"? did these fools find out about y/n's relationship and immediately run to an f1 TEA PAGE???

user58: that's some goofy ass shit

user59: i find it funny that instead of sitting down and thinking about why their daughter/sister didn't feel comfortable enough to tell you about her relationship they're like i know EXACTLY who needs to hear this

user60: the way it's proved her completely right to not tell them

user61: do you guys think this is like a tv show or like fan fiction? in what world is y/n sharing strategies to fuck over her own BROTHER?

user62: also be for fucking real... strategies? ferrari? at least try and be realistic

user63: also.... walk with me .... why would y/n and charles conspire to put lewis hamilton in carlos' seat? LEWIS FUCKING HAMILTON AND SEVEN TIME WORLD CHAMPION? WHY WOULD CHARLES WANT TO TAKE HIM ON OVER A GUY HE'S ALREADY BEATEN TWICE

user64: see this is the point! sainz camp you can try and demonise charles and yOUR OWN DAUGHTER all you want but we all know it's bull shit

user65: one thing about this that really rubs me the wrong way is that the sainz camp clearly expected that if y/n was in a relationship with charles that she would've been a double agent for carlos? and because she's not fucking insane they're now going for character assassination of their own SISTER/DAUGHTER

user66: THIS THIS THIS

user67: carlos won't even consider y/n an "important" person in his life but expect her to sacrifice or exploit her relationship for cheap psychological points

user68: also y/n isn't even at most races so how is she getting carlos' strategies to give to charles? this shit doesn't make any sense

user69: carlos himself has said in an interview that y/n is useless when it comes to racing that she's just a supportive figure rather than someone who has any in depth racing knowledge

user70: this is insane level hating with all the evidence out here... and against your own family...

user71: this just makes me think that y/n wasn't in australia for a reason - like was she banned from carlos' garage

user72: and the fact she's been staying at max's it just makes me think that y/n was kicked out of her and carlos' apartment

user73: now tHATS INSANE

espnf1

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1,025,788 others

tagged: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc & yourusername

espnf1: well... this could be awkward

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user77: espn babe you're just like me

user78: *slides $5 across the bar* get a camera in the ferrari garage?

espnf1: we're working on it 😩

user79: pierre and max here... they really are the paddock gossip girls

maxverstappen1: i guess carlos couldn't handle that i knew who redacted was before him 🤷🏻‍♂️

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: don't put your sister on the streets and i won't dunk these jokes on your head

user80: is this like the official f1 civil war?

carlossainz55: you don't know anything max, i'd really keep your nose out of our business

maxverstappen1: i actually know exactly how you guys move, you tried it on 17 year old me and it becomes my business when my best friend calls me with no where else to go (also i know you changed the locks while you were in maranello so she wouldn't be able to go to charles, you're not slick)

carlossainz55: i never took you as a lap dog max

yourusername: calling him the lap dog when you're the biggest bitch on the grid - bold

carlossainz55: you're burning a lot of bridges for a talentless slut who had to start fucking my teammate when we cut you off

yourusername: keep throwing your PR to the fire and see who fucking hires you, i guess we'll both be unemployed bums

user80: also imagine calling her talentless like she isn't a well established poet LOL

user81: guys this is getting so bad so quickly

user82: we got the whole rest of the season of this

user83: mad respect to max for sticking up for his bestie

user84: and her actual boyfriend isn't?

yourusername: charles will do his talking on the track like he always does. he won't debase himself with bickering in instagram comments, funnily enough ferrari don't like that - might be the reason he still has a seat and someone doesn't

carlossainz55: or he's a pussy who has his woman talk for him

yourusername: at least he has a woman to talk for him, he doesn't behind his dad at any sign of trouble. i've always known i didn't matter to dad the moment i wasn't a boy but i'm not afraid of him or you and i know exactly how you work. good luck

user85: do they know we can all read this?

user86: when i'm in an oversharing contest and the sainz siblings walk in

user87: those ferrari debriefs are gonna be AWKWARD

yourusername: especially since he doesn't have binotto to hide behind any more

user88: girl you good?

yourusername: i've never been better, this has been building for years even before charles and i got together

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 908,487 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: i love you, it's ruining my life

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user89: y/n i'm gonna let you finish but we could really get the best poetry out of all of this

user90: for real like yeah i'm sorry your brother tried to make you homeless, exposed your relationship, accused you of treason and called you a talentless slut - but think of the poetry!

charles_leclerc: i love you and i hope you're okay

yourusername: i'll always be okay with you

charles_leclerc: it's out now and no one can take us away from each other

charles_leclerc: i'd actually love to see them try

yourusername: i'd go through this fortnight of hell over and over again if it meant i'd still keep you

charles_leclerc: i'd like to say this is the end of it but i think we're in for the long run now

yourusername: i'm prepared to go to war for you

charles_leclerc: there's no one i'd rather be on the front lines with

user91: oh brother... YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH A POET WE GET IT

charles_leclerc: * in love with

user91: oh my bad

charles_leclerc: no worries

user91: STILL GROSS BRO

liked by maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc: max ???

maxverstappen1: you guys need to calm down cause i'm not good with words and kelly is gonna start scrutinising my cards and i DO NOT HAVE THE VOCABULARY FOR IT

yourusername: lol

maxverstappen1: lol? LOL? did our brief yet forced stint as roommates mean nothing?

yourusername: fine i'll ghostwrite your valentines cards

user92: so this is all a bit melodramatic

user93: he CHANGED THE LOCKS BRO SHE HAS THE RIGHT TO BE MELODRAMATIC

liked by charles_leclerc

user94: okay so now we're in full blown f1 civil war - who is on each side?

user95: well max and pierre are on charles' side. i'd also add in lewis, seb, oscar, esteban, george, alex, yuki and daniel

user96: so carlos has lando and fernando?

fernandoalo_oficial: it might not be blood but that's my daughter

user96: ????

user97: did he just show up to diss carlos and then refuse to elaborate?

user98: sounds like a nando thing to do .... also just leaves carlos with lando lol

user99: this feels a bit unfair

yourusername: all is fair in love and poetry

fin.

note: so as soon as i had this idea (litr TTPD release day) i have been so busy and WHACKED with the worst writer's block but i hope this is a good start and rest assured knowing the beef will only get worse... I LOVE DRAMA

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: @aadu2173 @rhythmstars @kqliie @booksandflowrs @2bormaybenot @firelily-mimi @evie-119

[miniimight]

ur dad!sukuna has me on a chokehold and i don't even like that man

lol same, it really came outta nowhere. woke up one day and decided to make him a soft girl dad :(

loosely inspired by this

sukuna had never understood the need to celebrate holidays with family, much less getting together for no reason. and yet, here he was at your grandparents' house in the middle of the school year.

there were a bunch of kids, from toddlers like your daughter to the teenagers of family friends. sukuna made sure you handled all the pleasantries, save the occasional polite nod. he was convinced the only kid worth entertaining was his baby girl, who clung to him as she tried to adjust to the new environment.

she was quieter than usual, and he observed her as she pulled at her lip, turning her head into his neck when unknown relatives crowded you to congratulate you on your little family.

you and sukuna found a corner to hole up in, talking to each other while you sampled all the drinks and food at the party. soon, your daughter grew restless, wanting to go play with other kids.

sukuna watched her with deadly precision as she and the other kids brought out toy cars and dolls, driving them around on the city rug below their feet.

he had crossed his arms, only for you to wiggle your hand into the crease of his elbow seconds later. eyes still on his daughter, he leaned his head down a bit to show he was listening.

"i thought you'd enjoy the free drinks." you said.

he snorted. "i'd enjoy my bed right about now."

you swat his bicep with your free hand before hugging into his side. "at least baby's having fun."

he just hummed in response. "she's gonna want one of those stupid rugs."

you roll your eyes. "you know she'll forget about it by tomorrow morning."

his lips pulled up. she would. and he'd still get it for her.

soon, gifts for the kids were being exchanged. why? just for existing, apparently. you left sukuna's side to capture your daughter's reaction on camera.

your baby glanced at you as she was presented with the gift bag.

"go 'head, baby." you nod, and she ripped the tissue paper to shreds before reaching her whole arm into the bag. she pulled out a tiara, studded with gems and painted gold, along with a fluffy dress.

an immediate chorus of awwws echoed around the room as she held up her loot. she raised the tiara over her head, but didn't manage to get it to sit right.

"help." she chirped, waddling over and holding the tiara to you in her outstretched hand. "mama."

sukuna's heart squeezed at the sight, gaze following you as you retreated to the bathroom to help her change into her costume.

a few minutes later, you emerged, setting her next to your grandparents.

another wave of awws made sukuna's head lift from his phone. always watching, he noticed how his kid's wide eyes darted from unknown face to unfamiliar face. her chin tucked down, her chubby neck doubling up as her bottom lip pushed out into a pout.

he'd know that look from a mile away. he stood a little straighter, frowning.

at that point, your mommy senses tingled, pulling yourself from the conversation you were wrapped up in. "aw, honey, no..." you cooed, stooping to her level and trying to catch her eye.

she whined, pushing off the couch and shrinking under the crowd of people, wringing the hem of her dress as she walked through the crowd.

her eyes were scanning the room, looking up at every adult and getting closer to tears when she saw they weren't the one she was looking for.

eventually she broke into the kitchen area, locking eyes with her father and barreling towards him. sukuna crouched down, his arms spread to catch her.

as soon as she gripped him, he lifted off. "hey, kid. rough night, huh?"

she tucked her head into the crook of his neck, her arms hugging the expanse of his shoulders. he nodded and rubbed her back. "me too."

she raised her head abruptly and touched her tiara. her eyes so serious, as if she'd base her own feelings about her new stuff on how much her father liked it.

"yes, i see it. very pretty." he placed her onto the kitchen counter, smoothing the crinkled mess of her dress. his tone could be perceived as dry or near-monotonous, but his intention was the complete opposite. "my, my, were you ever going to tell us we were living with a princess?"

a toothy grin spread on her face, and sukuna was blown away yet again by the way he was able to make someone so genuinely happy.

"look." she started twirling around.

sukuna shook his head with a low chuckle. her spin was anything but graceful. he applauded her showcase, his back shielding them both from the noise surrounding them. a little bubble just for them <3

your hand rested on his back, signaling your approach. sukuna lifted his arm, resting it on your waist when you stood at his side.

you frowned as you studied your little girl. "you feeling okay, baby?"

she poked her tongue out.

"i'll take that as a yes." you kissed her cheek. "wanna get outta here?" you ask your husband.

"fuck yes." he grumbled, immediately slinging the baby bag over his shoulder and grabbing your daughter. you three were out the door in the next minute.

your toddler started screaming at the burger king y'all were passing on the way home. you gave sukuna a look, silently warning him not to do anything illegal in order to appease her request. as usual, he soothed you with a squeeze of the hand, pulling a jerky, very illegal u-turn across oncoming traffic into the burger king lot.

you sighed, your daughter giggling happily as the car came to a stop.

after you got your food, she placed the crown she got on her father's head. "princess." she said.

"oh?" you side glanced your husband, his glare unsuccessful in deterring you from snickering. you encourage your daughter, "yes, baby, isn't he the prettiest?"

"no." she looked at her father in disgust. "me."

"oh, my apologies. you are so right."

sukuna scoffed. "where'd you think you got your looks from, silly girl?" he crossed his arms, leaning back in the booth. he made no move to take off the cardboard crown, though.

you gave him a look. "i helped too??"

he grinned deviously and pulled you into his side, squeezing your hips. "don't kid yourself, doll. you didn't even try."

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[virgobingo]

more insight on miles’ puerto rican heritage for your fics or fanart

- traditional quinceañeras (or as they are often called by puerto ricans quinceañeros) are really not that common anymore, most girls nowadays have pool parties or go on a cruise. if miles were to go to one of his cousins’ 15 birthday party, chances are it would be casual— no big poofy dress (his mom probably had one like that though)

edit: some people disagree on this. depends on how traditional your family and friend group is I guess, as well as which part of the island you’re from. on average, it seems to be a far bigger deal amongst some other latines. in my class in pr only 3 out of approx 30 girls had a big event like that. not a single one of my cousins had a traditional quince either so you could say I’m partly biased bc of my own experiences. i personally just had a big pool party

- plantains are a big part of our diet. also, pr being an island in the caribbean, coconut is in a lot of our desserts. if miles had to pick a favorite fruit I hc he’d pick either one of the two lol also please google our food, our food isn’t actually spicy so much as savory

- we “celebrate” thanksgiving like other americans. it’s about the only time we eat oven roasted turkey. for winter holidays (christmas eve/day, new years eve/day, three kings day/eve) oven roasted pork. chicken might be offered as a second option for people who don’t consume pork for whatever reason

- you’re pretty much taught how to dance as soon as you can walk. most of us have basic rhythms down. chances of miles dancing with his mom or friends at parties? astronomically high.

- the reason why our flag is everywhere, besides pride, is ‘cause it was illegal to own it. look up the gag law that prohibited us from even displaying it at our homes. so it’s actually an awesome detail in these movies

- this is my opinion/a fun fact but I feel like miles is basically an homage to black and puerto rican (specifically nuyorican) solidarity around the 70s-80s during the creation of hip-hop and rise of graffiti as a form of expression (you can easily read up on this or watch shows like the get down to learn more about this if you’re curious)

- whether you’re “nuyorican” or “from the island” spanglish is common so miles’ mixing english and spanish isn’t odd bc even rio does this as miles points out in the party scene. he isn’t a “no sabo” kid so much as someone with a strong accent. he understands his mom perfectly

- race ≠ ethnicity. there are plenty of black people in and from Puerto Rico, and miles’ pr family in the spiderverse films are designed to be for the most part afro-latine. so I wouldn’t really call him biracial

- the puerto rican day parade wouldn’t be a thing he skips, he’s gifted a special suit for it in a comic run. his puerto rican heritage is important to him!

[01x69homo]

happy birthday to the greatest fanvid of all time <333 also uhhhhhh jesus i guess

[samkerrworshipper]

rockin’ around the christmas tree

alexia putellas x reader, alexia putellas x putellas!child x reader

fun fact my least favourite holiday is christmas and i don’t really celebrate it at all! but the request i got for this was so cute so i pushed down my inner grinch because i just had to! i’m sorry to any spanish people who don’t celebrate christmas this way lol i tried my best xo

Growing up, christmas had looked a lot different for you then for most kids. 

You didn’t grow up in a house were Christmas was really celebrated, most of the time, your parents worked through the day, and you’d be left home alone with you older brother. 

On the good years, you’d get a present, but most years all the money that could have been christmas presents was put into the football budget, or into buying you a second hand pair of boots so that you didn’t have to play through the winter with holes in your shoes. 

You never really minded, you didn’t grow up in a family where christmas was something your parents could afford, and you’d come to terms with that, it was more important that there was food on the table and money available for football fees then christmas trees or gifts. 

That’s why you struggled with it all. 

Alexia had grown up in a house where Christmas was everything you could have ever wanted, christmas lights, dinner with the family, as many presents as she asked for, a big tree, everything traditional that made the holiday everything it was made up to be. 

Alexia had been the first person to show you what Christmas could look like, your first christmas together had been an.. experience. 

When your girlfriend of six months at the time had found out that your plans for christmas included staying in your apartment and watching whatever crappy christmas movie re-runs that the television was showing she’d been distraught. It had taken a lot of you reasoning with her to explain why you didn’t feel the need to celebrate as extravagantly as other people. You were happy to spend the day in, happy to have a day of piece and solace.

Alexia refused to accept that, so you’d been dragged along to her christmas morning with Alba, then her christmas lunch with her cousins and extended family and finally dinner with Eli and the closer family. 

It had been more activities and festivities in a day then you’d experienced in your whole life of christmas’, and that night when you’d inevitably ended up at Alexia’s house you’d broken down. 

Christmas for you had always just been another day, but your day spent with Alexia had made you feel more loved then you ever had before. 

Christmas was supposed to be a happy day, but that night, all you’d done was sob. You didn’t blame your parents for your missed experiences, they did the best that they could at the time. But you mourned the bit of your childhood that you’d so clearly missed out on. You were overwhelmed beyond any words being able to describe it, you didn’t understand how some families got this, and yet others didn’t. Alexia was so incredibly blessed and she had no idea about it.

Even eight years later, you weren’t the best with christmas. 

Just because you’d become accustomed to what christmas in Alexia’s world looked like didn’t mean that it came easy to you. 

Alexia loved christmas, she looked forward to it every year, if you were to harbor a guess you’d say it was probably her favourite holiday of them all. 

You didn’t hold the same sentiment, you didn’t have years of positive childhood christmas memories, and even after your experiences with the Putellas it didn’t overshadow your deeply innedeed desire to spend christmas under the covers of a bed.

Every christmas was spent similarly for the Putellas’, Alexia waking up at 5am, full of energy, dragging you straight out of bed. Once dragged out of bed, you’d get thrown down onto the living room floor, coffe thrusted in your hand before the annual present unwrapping. 

Alba normally rocked up around 6am, depending on her circumstances, with or without a partner. From then the apartment living room floor turned into a pile of gift wrapping paper as the two Putella’s sisters unwrapped present after present like six year olds. 

You’d never been big on the present thing, you enjoyed watching the two sisters and their animated reactions to every single gift that they received, you preferred to sit back and discreetly open the gifts that were thrown your way. 

After the great present opening, it then transitioned into a big breakfast that made you nauseous and bloated and semi-uncomfortable.

Christmas tradition to Alexia was like a law, there wasn’t any changing it. 

You’d thought that once you’d started to form a family together that maybe things would change a little bit, that maybe Alexia would relax and mellow out, that all of the fuss and festiveness would subside a little bit, but you were so wrong. If anything, it only got more intense.

Lili was four, and it was the first year that she’d started to catch onto what Christmas was, and Alexia was giddy about it. She’d spent the whole months of November and December getting your daughter as excited and understanding of the ‘magnitude’ of what event was coming up. 

Christmas for the putellas’ household started on december first, everything leading up to the big christmas eve dinner on the 24th. 

Lili had already been excited, but spending the night beforehand with all of her older cousins, unwrapping smaller presents and sitting around the table hearing stories from Eli hadn’t been any help. 

You were less than enthuasiatstic about it all, but this year you had an excuse to sit back and relax, and that came in the form of your 2 month old baby, Emi. 

Emi was also a good enough reason to dip out of the celebrations a little bit early, when Emi started to get fussy and hungry for her night time feed you decided it was time to call it and one-handedly dragged your wife and her mini-me out of Eli’s house, with the promise that you’d make sure the two of them got enough sleep so that they were functional by tomorrow. 

The two pouted the whole way home, and it truly added a whole new layer to the whole mini alexia persona that Lili had adopted. 

She was a carbon copy of Alexia, always begging to be dragged along to football training, she had the same little focused scowl that Alexia had when she was focusing, she watched football on the television with the same amount of intensity that Alexia did, all of her mannerisms, all of her values, all of her little details were all Alexia’s. 

You were still holding out bits of hope that Emi would be a little bit more like you, but you were also well aware that if she was anything like her sister then it was a losing battle. 

You tasked Alexia with getting your hyped up older daughter to sleep, whilst you dealt with a fussy Emi who was overtired and refusing to go to sleep. 

“C’mon Emi, you’re fed, you’re changed, you’re tired, you’ve got a comfy bassinet and yet you won’t go to sleep.”

You looked down at your daughter, who had tears running down her face below you in her bassinet, sucking furiously on her dummy like she was trying to prove something to you. 

You weren’t quite sure what was worse, a four year old who was riding on a christmas fueled energy high, or a baby who was so determined to stay awake even though she was absolutely exhausted. 

With Lili, at least you knew that once she’d been bathed and put to bed that a few stories would put her straight to sleep, it was just the process of getting her into bed that was a struggle. Emi however, was a complete mystery. 

Some nights, all she needed was a big feed of milk and she went out like a light, other nights, she would stay awake just for the sake of it. 

It was like she could sense the excitement bouncing off of her mama and sister and decided that she too was destined to make your christmas as long as possible. 

By the time Alexia trailed in, you were just bouncing Emi off to sleep, unsure about how you were going to transfer her from your arms to her bassinet. 

Alexia crawled into your shared bed, watching you with adoration as you gentled paced the rug at the end of your bed, rocking Emi with you. 

“You’re so good with her.”

Emi at least, was an easier baby then Lili had been. Lili had almost been reason enough for you to leave it at one child, the first couple months of her life had been hell, but then the toddler phase came and you and Alexia had both fallen in love with the idea of having a little friend for Lili to run about with. So, the rounds of IVF had come again, and after a miscarriage and failed treatment, the two of you were met with little Emi. 

It was hard juggling a four year old with far too much energy for one child, but the two of you had made it work. 

“I’m just doing my job.”

Motherhood had become a job for you, football wasn’t your passion so much anymore, you were unofficially retired and you were happy that way, you’d won all the accolades you needed, you had a family now that was coming first. 

“You’re the best mother, you couldn’t do much more for them.”

You smiled at Alexia, it made you blush in a way like no other when anyone commented on your parenting, it was good to know you were a good person, but to know that you were a good mother, it was something else. 

You finally managed to push Emi into enough of a lull that when you placed her down in her bassinet she fussed a little bit before finally falling into a proper sleep. 

Once you were sure she was out, you crawled into bed beside Alexia, allowing her to wrap her body around yours. 

“Is there any chance I can convince you to stay in bed any time past 6?”

Alexia snorted, her head finding homage in the corner of your neck. 

“Lili has permission to be out of bed from 5am onwards, so have fun trying to control that.”

You groaned. 

“The presents will still be there, when the sun has risen, why do we need to be out of bed so early?”

Alexia reached over to the bedside lamp that was still on, flicking it off and relaxing into the pillows. 

“Alba will be here at 5.30, technically, you can stay in bed as long as you like.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“And miss out on you acting shocked at the presents you bought for our daughter and for yourself? How could I do that to myself?”

Alexia pinched your side. 

“No, santa brought the presents and I will act shocked when i see what Santa has brought this year, as will you.”

You pinched Alexia back, smirking as she winced. 

“I told you that you didn’t need to buy me anything, Alexia.”

You managed to block Alexia’s attempt at retaliation, smirking to yourself. 

“No, my name is baby, love, honey or sweet, not Alexia. Asking me to not buy you presents is like asking me to not love you, it’s simply not possible. Also, what kind of impression am I setting for lili and emi if they think that it is acceptable to not shower everyone around them in presents on the best day of the year.”

Alexia sounded proud of herself for that statement, like she’d made a real point. 

“You’d be setting an example that love isn’t tangible and you can love someone without pushing gifts down their throats.”

Alexia’s arms wrapped around your stomach, pulling you directly against her. 

“You don’t have to open them if you don’t want to, we can keep them for your birthday, or for mothers day, or for our anniversary. I know it’s a hard day for you, if you don’t want to be apart of it all then that’s okay. We’ll work it out okay, I can try to keep lili at bay for a little bit longer if you watnt a sleep in.”

You shook your head, what Alexia was offering was nice, but it was one day a year, Alexia’s favourite day, and you were willing to make compromises if that was required. 

“You know how much I love you, right?”

Alexia smiled into your neck, a big corny smile. 

“Love me enough to wake up at five am?” You rolled your eyes, flipping down onto your pillow. 

“You’re making breakfast, and you’re putting Lili down for a midday nap when she inevitably needs one, and Alba can deal with her other niece when she gets fussy from her sleep schedule being messed with, I want a day of relaxation, okay?”

Alexia wasn’t kidding about the five am thing, you’d just managed to get Emi back down after her early feed, when your daughter dragged herself through the door of Alexia and yours’ room. 

She looked more exhausted then excited, something that you were happy about. 

“Feliz Navidad, mommy.”

You smiled at your daughter, patting down on the bedding between Alexia and you, making room for your daughter to snuggle up between the two of you. 

It was far to early for your liking, and you were happy to cuddle with Lili if it meant you could have another hour or so of sleep. 

“Feliz Navidad, sweetheart.”

She wormed her way underneath your covers, immediately throwing her arms around your body. 

“Present time?”

You shook your head, bring your daughter close to you. 

“Not yet sweetheart, you mami will wake you up when it’s time, okay?”

It was like at 5am Alexia’s internal body clock went off, both her and your daughter jolting up together like they’d been struck by lightning. 

“Mommy, it’s time to wake up, it’s christmas.”

Lili’s voice was less of a whisper then it had been when she’d crawled into your bed, and you weren’t all that surprised when seconds later Emi was crying, like she knew exactly what was supposed to happen. 

“Sweetheart, go downstairs with your mami, I’ll come down in a minute.”

You were happy to get Lili and Alexia out, leaving you in a semi-tranquil room, besides Emi who was now softly whining beside you. 

You reached over into her bassinet, lifting her up and out, happy enough when she settled in your arms. 

You figured it was a smarter idea to feed her now, then staving it off and having a grumpy baby in a couple of hours. 

So you enjoyed some peace as you nursed Emi, it was a nicer way to wake up and adjust to the reality of what your day was going to look like. 

Once Emi was done you threw on a robe and your slippers, before slipping down the stairs of your house and slowly making your way into the living room. 

You could hear what was going on before you saw it, the sounds of your daughter squealing and Alexia making similar noises. 

It was Lili, Alexia and Alba, all crowded around the christmas tree that Alexia had insisted had to be from the same farm Eli had been getting trees from for years, all three of them with their own piles of wrapping paper at their feet. 

It was a sweet sight, one that struck on your heart strings and made you so incredibly grateful. 

The amount of excitement one Lili’s face made it all worth it, how happy she was. 

“Ah, their is my other favourite niece, come, let me have her, sit down, put your feet up. Emi can help me with the pancakes.”

You accepted a hug from Alba, and happily handed of Emi to her, taking a seat down on your couch, watching as she with practised ease carried your daughter next door to the kitchen. 

“Mama, look at what santa brought me, look at all of the toys.”

You weren’t all that surprised that Lili’s pile had magically grown in stature, probably due to both Alexia and her sister’s insistence that it was child abuse to not overflow a child with presents on Christmas. 

You were even more shocked by the amount of presents that were designated to your newborn baby. 

“Mami, look, a new jersey! With mommy’s name on it, so i can match with you to games!”

The amount of excitement on your daughters face as she turned around to show you the putellas lettering across the back of her blue and red jersey made both you and Alexia weak. You might have been a grinch but there was no denying the amount of pure innocence and joy that was filling your daughter up. She looked impossibly adorabl with her twin braids that Alexia must have done the night before, with her newest addition to her jersey collection layered over the top of her pink flannel set, catching in certain places and the collar not quite aligning. 

“Wow Lil, we get to match now, we’ll have to get a extra one for Emi.”

Alexia smirked at you, alreayd holding up a matching miniature sized version of the same jersey Lili was in, you rolled your eyes, there was one thing your two month old baby didn’t need more of and that was most certainly barca memorabilia. 

“Mami, look, presents for you, and presents for mommy, and presents for auntie Alba.”

You smiled at your daughter, who was pinging with excitement. She pointed frantically between the different piles of parcels, all of which wrapped in seperate colours of papers. Lili’s pile was less wrapped, more strewn across the floor. 

Alexia was responsible for all of the different bits of football gear, whereas you’d stayed more conservative with your choices of clothes, dolls, different zoo animals, small train sets and new books. 

“Wow sweetheart, you really got spoiled, huh?”

You couldn’t help but clutch for your phone, taking a photo of your wife and daughter, who were both looking at eachother with equal amounts of excitement. You were well aware that it was going to be a fight trying to get Lili out of that jersey and into the nice dress you’d picked out for today, but you could compromise with letting her wear it over until photo time came around. 

Alexia looked particularly proud of herself when Lili came running at you, with a handful of gifts, all with your name on them and signed from ‘santa’.

“For you, from mami and santa.”

You smiled at your daughter, who stood in front of you, seemingly waiting for you to open up the gifts. 

You reached for the smallest one first, smiling at a new set of earrings that you knew would quickly become some of your favourites and a matching necklace that had the letters E, L and A on it. 

The jewellery was then followed by a voucher for three months of pilates lessons at your favourite gym, which you were exceptionally grateful for. It wasn’t easy working out after having children, but it was even harder trying to adjust to the new version of your body and Alexia was well aware of how insecure you were feeling, plus pilates was a better transition then pump workouts. 

The next gift was a new set of running shoes, practical but a gift you were more than happy about. Plus, they would be good for your pilates, so you couldn’t really deny the need for them. 

“Alexia, if there is anything alive in this box then I’m going to lose it.”

The fourth parcel was the largest, a big box which contents you were completely uncertain of. Weirdly, Alexia had the tendency to always purchase something for chistmas that the two of you definitely did not need, and that was only going to make your lives harder. Lili had been harping on about wanting a dog, Nala, had unfortunately died when she was too young to remember. She was for whatever reason desperate to fill that hole, and you conceded that once Emi was a little bit older it was definitely a possibility, but not right now.  

You nearly cried when you ripped the packaging open and were met with a brand new set of pans. 

It was a random thing, and definitely not something to cry over, but it was something that you’d been secretly wanting for a while now. 

“Mami, why is mommy crying over new pots and pans.”

Alexia snorted from the other side of the room. 

“Because mommy has been saying naughty words every time she’s been cooking with our other pans and things have been getting stuck to them, so I decided it was time we got some new ones, because it’s not nice to use bad words.”

You rolled your eyes, Alexia was the worst role model for swearing, every time anything small annoyed her. 

“Thank you, it’s a really good gift.”

Alexia smiled at you lopsidedly, pots and pans was her version of the worst christmas gift ever, but seeing your face light up was enough information to know that she’d done good.

“Ah, you’re crying now, and you haven’t even opened my final gift.”

You looked at Alexia sceptically, trying to figure out if this was one of her weird Christmas things. On your first christmas together, she’d brought you a bike, technically she’d bought two bikes, with the intention of the two of you using in the summer. What she hadn’t know, was that you had a slightly irrational fear of riding bikes, and refused to be within 2 metres of the two wheeled beasts. 

Alexia wasn’t a bad gift giver, she was just really good at buying things that she wanted, but forgetting that she person was gifting them to wasn’t necessarily the ideal recipient. 

“Lili, give your mommy the last one for me, yeah?”

Lili smiled at you, big and wide and for a second you worried, that it was going to be something you had to pretend you liked for the sake of not giving Lili a bad example. 

“Mommy said best for last.”

She pulled a present out from nowhere, a small, long one that looked more like a gift card then anything else. 

Good, nohing alive, nothing big or spacious. 

You took a moment to compose yourself before smiling down at your daughter and opening the final one. 

If you’d been crying before, then this gift had you close to sobbing. 

“Mommy says that you deserve time off, just the two of you, so I’m going to stay with abuela and auntie alba for a few days with Emi and you two are going to have some alone time.”

You bit down on your lip, looking up at Alexia, waiting for the catch. 

“Just you and me?”

Alexia nodded, a big smile playing on her lips as she looked at you from across the room. 

“Just you and me, three nights in italy, your favourite.”

You werw willing yourself to not cry, but when Lili jumped into your arms, followed quickly by Alexia you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Feliz Navidad, my love.”

You reached up to press your lips to Alexia’s ignoring the fake vomiting noises that your daughter was making, undoubtedly that she’d learnt from spending to much time with her auntie. 

It was peaceful, it was wonderfully perfect and nothing that you would have imagined for this christmas to look like. 

“Ale, I think the pancakes are burning, or the toast, or the bacon, something’s burning.”

Alexia snorted and you couldn’t help but join her, the two of you breaking into giggles when the smoke alarm started to scream from the kitchen. 

“Feliz Navidad, baby.”

[pinkroseblooms]

obsessedloner!Choso/chubby!f!Reader pt.2

Summary: in the second part to this modern college au, obsessive loner!Choso goes too far; reader deals with the consequences of his need to keep you close to him and him alone when he feels like you're at risk of gaining the attentions of an even more popular classmate. Yet another self indulgent piece of work, but sue me, I couldn't stop writing this all day. Enjoy!

Warnings: toxic behavior, obsessive/possessive behavior, jealousy, emotional manipulation, smut, mating press, rough sex, hurt/comfort, talks of low self esteem, clingy, needy!Choso, begging, crying, break downs, and borderline yandere!Choso, and other less than healthy relationship dynamics.

wc: 5.3k

The birthday cake was placed on the teacher’s desk: the majority of your speech class had decided that since Satoru Gojo’s birthday was coinciding with the last week of exams before break, it would be fun to have a small party. You volunteered to bake the cake; the professor gave permission to use his classroom that afternoon, with the condition the space was tidied up afterward and things didn’t get too rowdy. It was going to be a nice opportunity to celebrate the coming holiday season and the student who was arguably the school’s golden boy. Even those who didn’t like Gojo’s flippant arrogance and teasing nature admired his work ethic and almost supernatural intelligence, to say nothing of his undeniably pretty face. 

Choso was only there because he knew you were attending and in charge of bringing the requested birthday cake. He didn’t feel one way or the other about Gojo, but he would gladly be by your side, eager to hear the compliments your baking would receive and also to make sure no picky eaters decided to get nit picky and spoil your mood. Truly, Choso had been happy on your behalf to hear you had agreed to help with the party. He certainly wouldn’t think to go out of his way to do something like this for people he didn’t really know outside of a forty five minute, twice a week class. Choso was more than proud to be the boyfriend of a person so thoughtful and generous to a fault; it was one of the reasons he fell so hard in the first place. You never needed a special reason to be kind to someone. And of course, it helped that you were still the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life and the last few months had been nothing short of heaven.

Except, the cake was red velvet. Choso stands by the teacher’s desk, staring at the cake. It was his favorite flavor. He told you that not long ago and you had promised the first time you made it, it would be for him. 

The cake is beautifully, painstakingly decorated, a perfect ratio of cake and fluffy frosting, sprinkled in bits of dark chocolate; the matching icing spells out ‘Happy Birthday, Satoru!’ in delicate, looping letters across the top. You obviously put a lot of care into making this for Gojo. That afternoon you had been the first person to arrive, followed shortly by another student, Suguru Geto; he wasn’t in the same speech class, but he was Gojo’s best friend and knew some of the class already, so inviting him was a given. The two of you had left to find a lighter and candles, hoping the school store in the basement of the building would provide something suitable. You told Choso he didn’t need to come; you noticed he had seemed a bit drained from studying and his recently acquired part time job, so you insisted he just hang back and relax while you and Geto went to obtain the finishing touches for the cake. 

For the past two minutes Choso has stood in place where you left him, eyeing the cake so innocently sitting atop the cleared off desk. He didn’t know it would be red velvet. Gojo had a sweet tooth and would probably love it. 

Surely this is too much for just an acquaintance. The recipe is a lot more difficult than the stuff you’ve made before, Choso saw there were more steps and more factors that could go wrong and ruin the cake’s moist and spongy texture. Skeptically, Choso narrows his eyes at the round, two tiered dessert. Most of the girls in your shared class offered to bake, but you were the one with the most experience and Gojo had eagerly picked you for the task. You must have felt obligated to make the cake perfect.

Choso’s frown deepens; he is your boyfriend. You promised you would make a cake like this just for him. A gesture like this could easily be taken the wrong way too and you’re so sweet and self effacing, he’s sure the idea of Gojo choosing you to personally make his cake didn’t mean anything at all.

It should be for him.

“What…what happened?”

The smile fell from your lips mere seconds after returning from the school store; Geto, insisting on carrying the purchases, had just been relaying a funny anecdote of one of his and Gojo’s misadventures as the two of you walked back into the now empty classroom. On the ground, right next to the base of the professor's sturdy wooden desk is nothing short of a mess. 

“My cake,” your hands come up to cover your gaping mouth. “What happened?!”

Geto approaches the desk with a confused frown; the cake and the plate it had been placed on are both on the floor. It seemed to have fallen top first, the icing and frosting smeared over the tiles and the plate broken into pieces around it. 

“It fell.” Geto states simply, although not without some incredulity. “Was it close to the edge?”

“No, I, well,” you struggle to recall exactly where you had placed the cake before you left the room. “I didn’t think I put it that close to the edge.”

“There’s frosting streaks on the side too’ it must have just toppled over.” Geto points out with a keen eye, kneeling a bit, bags still in hand. “It might have just been a bit uneven, a little heavier to one side?” he stands to his full height and smiles at you sympathetically. “These things happen, just a little bad luck. I’m sorry, it was a beautiful cake.”

“But everyone’s going to be here soon,” you fret as you search through your bag. “Geto, I’m going to go buy another cake, there’s a store nearby, I’m sure they’ll have something. Oh and I’ll find a custodian, oh no, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe this is happening-”

“Let me go.” Geto places a hand over your tensed shoulder. “It makes more sense, I know what kind of cake Satoru prefers the most. There’s plenty of time and a few others promised to bring drinks and snacks.”

“But I said I’d bring the cake. At least let me give you the money for it?” you hold up a few bills with a pleading stare. “I feel horrible, I should have been more careful where I put it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up; you are the one who did the work to make it.” Geto chuckles but accepts the money if only to make you feel a bit more at ease. “Maybe it’s better this way: with how good that cake looked, I’d wager you might have ended up with that glutton badgering you for more sweets.”

You return his smile as well as you can. “Thank you. I’m just being silly.”

“You’re fine.” Geto says firmly, but not unkindly. “You call a janitor, don’t try to clean up this alone; we wouldn’t want you to get a cut from trying to pick up pieces of that plate. I’ll be back before you know it; Satoru would sulk all afternoon if I don’t get him something anyway.”

“You’re a good friend.” you smile at Geto gratefully. “Thank you, I’ll call someone right away.”

You do just that shortly after Geto takes his leave; most of the custodians have already left for the day, except for one woman. She promises to be there as soon as she’s done with a request from one of the professors in the neighboring building; she sounds pleasant enough, but you feel pangs of guilt as you hang up and take a seat closest to the teacher’s desk. 

“Bunny? Are you okay?”

“Choso, you’re back!” you look up and wave at him, trying to sound cheerful; he glances at the ruined cake and back to your pained smile. “Ah, were you looking for me? I guess we just missed each other, the basement elevator was out of order, so we took the stairs. What a mess, huh? Geto thinks one side was a little heavier and it made the cake just flop right over the edge. Some bad luck, right? He left to get a cake and the custodian will be here soon, so make sure not to step on the plate bits.”

“Hey, slow down. I’m not worried about that.” Choso’s brow furrows as he studies your shaky smile. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal, accident…accidents happen.”

You bite your bottom lip harshly as your eyes begin to sting; before you know it, tears are slowly slipping down your cheeks. You quickly avert your eyes, too embarrassed to see the pitying look cross Choso’s face.

“Oh Choso, I feel so stupid. I can’t believe I put the cake that close to the edge! Ugh, I should have paid more attention, I told everyone I would make this amazing cake and I messed it all up and now Geto has to go all the way to the stupid store to get another one because I wasn’t careful!”

“Did he get mad at you?” Choso asked sharply. “Did he blame you?”

“No, no, Geto didn’t do anything.”  you bow your head and wipe at your wet cheeks. “He was really nice about it, so was the janitor on the phone about the mess, but I still feel bad. Gojo was just telling me he was really looking forward to the cake too. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to get a store bought cake and I promised I’d take care of this for the party. Sorry, I know I’m being a crybaby, I should just suck it up, I’m the one who ruined things, I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s not your fault.”

You raise your head and Choso is standing in front of the table between him and you; his hands are gripping tightly around the strap of his duffel bag. You wipe the last of your tears and look at him, your chest swelling at how upset he is on your account.

“You’re so sweet. Just having you to vent to makes me feel better already; I’m really just being dramatic, I’ve been stressed out and-”

“It’s not your fault.” Choso cuts you off quietly; he still isn’t looking at you. “It’s mine.”

“What? Baby, no, I didn’t expect you to watch the cake; it’s on me for not making sure it wasn’t so close to the edge, you didn’t do anything.”

“I pushed it.”

Choso’s knuckles are white: he’s strangling the strap of his bag between quivering hands. Finally, he looks into your bewildered eyes

“Choso, is this some kind of joke?” 

“I didn’t want him to have it and, and I thought he might get ideas since you worked so hard to bake it. He flirts with all the girls and you did say you were going to make it for me first.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” you shake your head and all but leap up from your chair. “You? How could you? And you were going to let me think it was my fault?!”

“No! It was supposed to look like an accident, I didn’t think you’d be so upset,”

“So it was okay for me to be ‘kind of’ upset? Choso, how could you?” you ask him again, voice raising, almost echoing in the empty room. “It’s just a cake!”

“Yeah, it’s just a stupid cake, that’s why I didn’t think you’d get this upset!”

Choso’s mouth clamps shut as your anger gives way to a look of utter hurt. 

“Wow.”

“I shouldn’t have said that-”

“Thanks a lot, Choso. Yeah, that really makes it better. Was that your plan? Swoop in and play the comforting boyfriend while I feel like a big idiot? Or maybe you just don’t consider my hobbies anything special; anyone can make a cake, right?” Fresh tears well up in your eyes as you tug your bag over your shoulder. “Nice to know what you really think.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Choso says reproachfully. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, you’re putting words in my mouth!”

“You know what?” you shake your head and unzip the front section of your bag; clumsily you yank out a sealed box and slam it down on the table. Choso recognizes it as one of the little boxes you use to pack individual desserts. “Here, your stupid cake. Surprise.”

The lid of the container is now sticking to the top of the cake but Choso can still make out the messy letters of his name and the heart shaped sprinkles scattered all over the surface. His eyebrows raise as he sees the small, squashed up cake is in the shape of a heart. You glare down at it before turning on your heel without so much as a backward glance.

“Bunny?” Choso snaps out of his trance and begins to follow you. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you.”

“I can explain, just calm down and let me-”

“Leave. Me. Alone!” you stop abruptly in the doorway and give him a nasty look, but you’re barely able to hold yourself back as Choso fixes you with a heartbroken stare. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down when you’re the one who threw a fucking tantrum. Enjoy the ‘stupid cake’, jerk!”

You slam the door in his face and rush down the hall to the nearest entrance, not particularly caring about where you’re going, just as long as you can get as much distance between you and Choso as possible. When you finally get home, you text Geto an apology for taking off and a nondescript explanation for your absence before turning your phone off. You’re exhausted and skip dinner to just curl up in your bed, burrowing in a blanket as if you could shut out the world. Choso’s t-shirt, the same one you’ve been sleeping in nearly every night, is balled up and thrown somewhere across the room; eventually you fall asleep, eyes rubbed raw and nose stuffed as you drift off, hoping maybe this was all just a bad dream.

When morning arrives and you manage to force yourself into a sitting position, it takes you a minute or two to realize the gentle knocking isn’t a leftover remnant from your deep slumber, but a very real sound coming from your front door. You wrap yourself in a robe and slip on a pair of house slippers, equally confused and irritated as to who could be knocking on your door when the sun is barely over the horizon. Just as the knocking stops, you peek through the peephole; there’s no one there. You rub your eyes and unlock your door with a sigh, expecting a leaflet from some early bird salesman or religious group to be stuck in the hinges. Instead you nearly trip over a huddled up mass taking refuge on your doorstep when you didn’t immediately open your door.

“Choso?! Oh my god, you scared me!” you’re still breathing a bit heavily, heart racing thinking a stranger had collapsed on your porch. “What are you doing here?”

“I,” Choso scrambles to his feet; you finally notice in his hands are two cups of coffee, one of which is your usual order, but the largest size. He holds it out to you. “Good morning. You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I turned it off.”

After a beat, you take the cup on autopilot, more preoccupied with the man standing at the threshold of your home. The circles under Choso’s eyes are darker than ever, in addition to how red and irritated they are around the edges, his hair is oily and limp. On closer inspection, you see he’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday; now they’re more wrinkled and the slight odor coming off them tells you he hasn’t showered yet. 

“Can I come in?” Choso asks, his voice weak and barely louder than a whisper. “I have to talk to you.”

“Fine.” you frown but move aside and open the door wider. “Here, come with me, I left my phone in my room.”

Choso does as he’s told, but trails after you at a slight distance, at least in comparison to how closely he usually stays to you. He’s shivering; it’s the middle of winter and he isn’t wearing even a jacket. How long had he been knocking on your door? How long had he planned to wait there outside? You banish the thought and busy yourself disconnecting your phone from its charger on your bedside table. Choso stands awkwardly in the middle of your room; he hasn’t taken so much as a sip of his coffee or taken his eyes off you, at least as far as you can see. 

“Did I wake you up?” he asks worriedly. “I’m sorry. I was going to wait but I thought you might have gone somewhere and you weren’t answering your phone, so…” he goes silent seeing his shirt in a crumpled heap in the corner of your room. “I just wanted to talk to you as soon as possible.”

You barely heard him, jaw dropping at your phone’s screen as it fully turns on to show you 32 missed calls, 15 unheard voicemails, 18 unopened texts, and 5 emails, all from Choso over the course of the night. You tap your thumb on the latest voicemail.

“Bunny? Bunny, can’t you just talk to me?” A shaky, nearly unrecognizable croaking comes from the speaker: Choso’s strong voice sounds strained, almost inaudible at certain points, as though he had been screaming until his throat was raw. “I know you’re probably sleeping…or maybe you don’t want to talk to me ever again-” A sharp, wrecked sob crackles over the speaker but Choso manages to steady himself again. “But I need to…I need to hear your voice. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so fucking sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me. I love you so much it hurts. I’m going to stop by tomorrow, I need to see you. I know I messed up, I need help. My bunny? I can’t…oh god, I can’t do this. I-I feel like I’m dying, I’m…I love you. I love you, I love you, just please-”

Your heart drops to your churning stomach as Choso’s words morph into broken, unintelligible sobs. Finally after a few seconds, the other end goes quiet and the voicemail ends. A recorded voice tells you there’s still 14 more previously skipped voicemails; Choso has remained standing, stiff as a board and looking miserably at you. You take a seat on the side of your bed, staring bewildered at your phone; you decide to not listen to the other voicemails.

“I’m sorry.” Choso says in an absurdly small voice. “Can we talk?”

You’re holding the coffee in your hands on your lap and taking a deep breath before raising your face. “Choso, why did you do it?”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you. I don’t think your baking is stupid. I was being stupid.” Choso’s cheeks burn in shame. “I was jealous Gojo was getting the cake first, or I thought he was, and I just…I didn’t want him to have it. It’s always like this.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him slowly, tempering your own indignation. “Do you think he would flirt with me? Or that I would cheat on you?”

“No. I just get so...everyone likes you. So, what if someone better comes along? What if you stop paying attention to me?” Choso shakes his head quickly, gripping his hair like he wants to yank it out. “I have thoughts like that all the time. It's awful. I knew you would be sad, but I really thought it would only be a little and then I could make it better and you would…rely on me more. I don’t want you to get close to anyone else.” he lowers his arm to his side limply. “I know it’s wrong. Are you gonna bre-break up with me?”

You don’t speak just yet; your eyes study his drawn, exhausted face. Choso isn’t trying to make you feel bad for him, you know that much. The truth doesn’t make you feel much better though. 

“I was really mad at you yesterday. I needed space.”

“I know, but-”

“Listen,” you say firmly. “Whatever the reason, that was a really rotten thing you did. It was just plain mean and selfish. Sure, you didn’t really mean to hurt me, but you did. You purposely messed up something I put a lot of work into.”

“I know.” Choso’s expression is desolate. “I like that about you. I love that you do nice things for people even if you don’t have to. Y-you’re so careful and considerate of other people. I was being selfish and it was so, so fucking stupid. You would never do something like that to me…you’re so good to me.”

“Choso, this isn’t just about yesterday.” you soften your tone, mindful of your volume. Choso looks as if one cold word from you could shatter him into a million pieces. “If you were willing to trash something I put a lot of work into for such a petty reason, it’s making me second guess things and now I’m wondering if maybe you’re not the person I thought you were. Is it more important to keep me dependent on you than for me to be happy?” You set your cup down on the nightstand, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “Maybe this isn’t going to work out.”

“Don’t say that.” 

Choso all but drops his coffee onto your dresser, barely glancing at it as he rushes to you; he lowers himself down on his knees, eyes glistening with both unshed tears and sheer adoration as he looks up at your pained face. You let him hold your hands, still folded in your lap, as Choso rests his forehead on your lap. They’re ice cold; how long had he been waiting outside?

“It’ll never happen again. It shouldn’t have happened at all. I know I could have just talked to you, I know you would have listened, but I didn’t even give you a chance, I just did what I wanted. I’m not nearly as kind as you.” Choso admits, words muffled as he buries his face into your thighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I need you. I’ll do whatever you say until you trust me again. Do you hate me?”

“Choso, I never hated you, I was just hurt.” you squeeze his hands gently. “The only reason I got so upset in the first place is because I love you so much. Hell, the cake for the party was more practice than anything so I could make you an even better cake. If you were worried, you should have just told me. You’re not some evil person from feeling jealous, but what you did was wrong. I really need to know that you understand where I’m coming from, I don’t want us to break up or anything. Did you really think I was trying to end things yesterday?”

Choso nods, head still resting on your thighs. “I thought you blocked me on everything. I thou-thought you didn’t ever want to see me again. I should have waited, Eso even said you probably just needed some space, but…I’m so used to being with you, texting you. I was going crazy.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to ghost you. And I’m sorry for calling you a jerk.”

“I am a jerk.”

“No, you acted like a jerk,” you nudge Choso’s shoulder to get him to look up; he does, taking in your face with those pleading puppy dog eyes you can never resist. “I forgive you. I love you baby, so, so much.”

“Bunny,” Choso’s lip wobbles and fat tears roll down his cheeks and chin, dripping onto your hands. “Thank you. I’m sorry I made you cry, just thinking about it makes me want to-to-” he sniffs and clenches his teeth against a whine. “I’m just sorry. I love you. I missed you so much. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were hurting because of me and I wanted to come here right away, but I thought if I did you’d really be fed up and-”

“You didn’t sleep?!” you slowly sit and move so you’re seated further up the bed; Choso follows suit, basically crawling over your pillows and covers to be next to you, tears still streaming down either side of his face. “Choso, lay down baby, you should take a nap. You’ll feel better, believe me. We can talk more later and get something to eat.”

“‘So good to me.” Choso tugs on your arm. “I want to cuddle.” He immediately moves over so you can hold him, laying on your sides as Choso stares balefully up at you through blurry eyes. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Choso, you need sleep.”

“Please?” he mutters, eyes lingering on your pouty mouth. “Need a kiss.”

“Okay, just a little one.”

“Thank you. You’re always so good to me…”

You knew those basset hound eyes would be the death of you: what started out as a tender, chaste kiss swiftly evolved into big hands massaging your breasts, then fingers tugging at the sash of your robe, and finally you being pushed onto your back as Choso holds you down in a mating press. 

“So good!” Choso can’t stop letting out choked moans, so loud, they almost drown out your cries, pushing your thighs closer to your chest, somehow, some way forcing his cock impossibly deep. There’s hints of pain but the pleasure you get from his cock head rubbing against that little spot just behind your clit was overriding all of it. 

“Baby, gotta slow down, you’ll break me at this rate.” you moan, helpless as Choso ducks his head down to lick and suck on your almost painfully sensitive nipples. He had been playing with them obsessively, pinching, rolling, sucking, even leaving dark love bites all over your breast.

“Love you, missed your pussy so much, thought I was gonna, gonna die!”

“Oh god, Choso, please, please baby, it’s too much!” your head lolls side to side; he’s made you cum three times already. Your pussy is a sopping wet mess and it’s all you can do to not pass out as Choso’s thick cock stretches you open over and over again, surely bruising your cervix. “You’re so-ah!” you let out a piercing shriek that only seems to spur him on to go harder. “So deep in my pussy baby, I can’t-”

“Just a little more, I’m so close,” Choso huffs, looking down at you with heavy lidded eyes, cheeks burning and hair sticking to his forehead; he’s a mess from his own sweat and your slick covering his pelvis where he just won’t stop pounding into you. “You look so good like this, I could fuck you forever…gonna cum so hard, give it all to you,”

“Cum in me,” you sweep his damp hair off his forehead with a faint, fucked out smile. “I want to feel it dripping out of me…can you be a good boy and cum in my pussy?”

“Yes, yes! Oh fuck, yes!”

Choso kisses you roughly, hips rolling into yours, barely pulling his cock out at all, as though he wanted his cum to go as deep inside you as it could go. It’s hot and spurting into your battered insides; thankfully Choso has enough strength left to hold you up as he humps your plush, limp body like a dog in heat. 

“Mine,” he groans, thrusting once more with a violent shudder. “Only mine.”

You suppose it’s not the best idea to encourage him, but you nod anyway, shaky hand in his hair to pet the tangled strands, chest heaving and light headed as Choso pulls his softening cock out slowly so as not to hurt you. He pants against your neck, curled into your side and using his wide palm to rub gentle circles over your hips and thighs.

“My poor bunny.” Choso mutters fondly as his fingers trail over your twitching thighs. “I’ll do better. You won’t regret this. I’m gonna get a bath ready for you, okay?”

“Th-thank you.”

“Sh, just relax, don’t get up.” Choso moves sluggishly to take the box of tissues from your nightstand; the coffee he brought you has somehow not been knocked off in the frenzy. “You’re so cute like this. I’ll wipe you off a bit first, nice and easy. Does it hurt down there?”

“Not really; feels more numb actually.” you roll your head to stare at him directly, meaning to look at least a little serious but you come off more like a grumpy kitten. “Don’t think just because you made me almost pass out that I forgot everything from the past 24 hours mister. I’m holding you to your word.”

“Yes ma’am.” Choso agrees with a hum as he wipes at the mess between your legs. “Thank you again…I still ate the cake you made for me. It was really good.”

“Oh right.”

“Yuji said you should have thrown it in my face.” Choso adds, a bit sheepish at the memory. “I almost didn’t eat it: I thought it would be the last thing you ever gave me…”

“Choso,” you smile at him sadly. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you?”

“Uh huh.” Choso brings you into his arms, careful not to jostle you too suddenly. “Just scared. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Why are you scared? Do you still think I want to break up?”

Choso shrugs. “What if the more you get to know me, the more you see bad things?”

“What kind of bad things?”

“If…if I could, I’d keep you with me. Sometimes when we’re alone, I don’t want to let you go. Then I start wondering if trying to keep you safe will just make you unhappy with me or that I’ll scare you off and then…” A single tear escapes Choso’s eye and he draws you in closer to his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do. Compared to you, I’m really selfish and short sighted.”

“No one’s perfect. I’m not.”

“You're just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I overthink things and get worked up over upsetting people. I hold myself to unattainable standards.” you list off tiredly. “And I keep doing this thing where I shy away from letting people really…know me. Like if they do, I’ll just let them down. I feel like an imposter half the time when you say all these nice things about me. You’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to know me, warts and all. It’s worth getting to be with someone like you, Choso. That’s just how relationships work; you’re always risking getting hurt or disappointed when you let people love you…when you love someone. And I love you.”

“Um…is it bad that I feel happy I’m the only person you talk to like this?” Choso sniffles. “Sorry. I’m being selfish again.”

“Maybe a little, but for the right reasons.” you grin and wipe a thumb under his eye. “For the record, it makes me happy you think of me so highly. You make me feel special.”

“You are special and anyone who thinks otherwise is stupid.”

“Does that include me then?”

Choso looks visibly panicked. “Wa-wait, that’s not what I meant!”

“I know, I know, sorry baby.” you kiss him before he starts into another round of apologies. “That was just a little payback. Ah, Choso!”

“Not funny.” Choso grumbles, bundling you into the blankets as you giggle and let out a faux fearful squeal; the sly quirk of his lips betrays his actual intentions. “After your bath, I’m gonna give you a real reason to scream.”

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ TREAT YOU BETTER!

♰ featuring: sae itoshi + rin itoshi (mentioned) [blue lock]

♰ note: this one is a DOOSY and i'm not even kidding when i say it took me 9 hours and 45 minutes to complete this, over the course of two days of course. However, as my first time ever writing on tumblr, i decided to go all out! that being said, it would mean a lot to me if you would support this work by reading, liking, and reblogging!

sypnosis: why be with his lukewarm little brother when you could be with him instead? wc: 6.6k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. fem/fem-bodied reader. POST BLUE LOCK. sibling rivalry. implied thick/chubby!reader. sae is mean. jealous!sae. bully!sae. rin is 19. sae is 21. CHEATING. degradation. unprotected sex. fingering. squirting. rough sex. DUBIOUS CONTENT. spanking. dacryphilia. slut shaming. groping. implied size kink. minor angst. hair pulling. ONE face slap. pussy slapping.꒷꒦ view the second part here: part two.

Coming home for the holidays, birthdays, or other special occasions is somewhat of a family tradition that enables people to slow down and focus on spending quality time with loved ones. These kinds of celebrations give families that may otherwise be estranged from one another due to work or geography the chance to reunite and enjoy each other's company. And this reasoning was no different in the Itoshi household. What was the occasion for this month’s gathering? Well, it was Mama Itoshi’s birthday, of course!

You see, you have known Rin and Sae Itoshi since you were all very young. Your mothers were best friends, and by default, that meant that you three would become close as well.

Growing up with the Itoshi brothers, on the other hand, was . . . interesting, to say the least. Where Rin found your presence to be refreshing, Sae found you to be a nuisance. You didn’t care for football; you got in the way of his practice; and you were a girl. He always thought you were too weak to play with, and he didn’t hesitate to make his feelings known to you. Pulling your hair until you screamed, pushing you around when you weren’t even in his way, and calling you mean names until your little E/C eyes welded up with fat tears were just some of the things he would do to torment you. Had it not been for little Rinnie stepping in and protecting you from his brother’s outright bullying, Sae most likely would’ve continued until you cried to your mom about how mean Sae-chan was to you. But you would never do that. Your little crush on him would never allow you to get him into trouble.

Nii-chan! Don’t be too mean to Y/N. You’ll make her inner crybaby come out!

When Sae was especially cruel to you, Rin was always there to lift your spirits. He would tell you not to worry about his "meanie Nii-chan," take your hand and wipe your tears and snotty face, and lead you up to his room where you two could watch movies and play action figures away from his brother's taunts. Even if he could not take you away right away, for instance, if you three were at the park, he would always come and ride the swings or the big slides with you just to make you happy. Despite Sae’s every protest about how you were nothing more than a distraction to him, Rin, and football, you knew that your friendship was sincere and unbreakable.

As you three went through the ups and downs of childhood, you also weathered the storms of adolescence together. Sae left for Madrid, leaving you, Rin, and your previous feelings for his older brother behind to navigate the social awkwardness of junior high and share in each other's accomplishments while he was with his football team and you were at your respective clubs. Your friendship was a source of strength during those formative years, providing solace and understanding when the world seemed confusing.

As you two approached your high school years, something began to change. Accidental touches felt more like fleeting sparks, while innocent glances became lingering stares. Neither of you fully comprehended your newfound feelings, tiptoeing around the unsaid emotions that seemed to glimmer between the two of you until the day Rin asked you to be his just before entering Blue Lock. Now, for the past three years, you have been a happy couple, embarking on the dreaded hell of adulthood and the next chapter of your lives hand-in-hand.

Back in the present, the two of you were glad that Rin finally had some downtime from soccer—well . . . more so you than him. Even after the events of Blue Lock, he and Sae remained rivals, seizing any opportunity they could to humiliate each other on the field. That being said, Rin was almost always in the gym, meditating, doing yoga, or practicing his skills to pass the time. It was nice to be able to spend time together without the stress of his next upcoming game or press conference.

Because it was his mother's birthday weekend and all, she would, of course, invite her boys to come to stay with her and their father for the occasion, which included you too since you were Rin’s girlfriend. However, in the few days that you and Rin have already been at his childhood home, Sae had yet to arrive, and no one had heard from him since he texted his mother that he was on his way to the airport to depart. Regardless, the family was busy finalizing plans for their mother's big day. Mr. Itoshi was at the bakery finalizing the details for his wife's cake, Mrs. Itoshi was out for brunch with your mother, and Rin had gone for an afternoon jog because "staying cooped up all day will turn him into a lukewarm lard ass," in his words. As for you? You had just begun to rise, completing some housework in one of Rin’s old jerseys and washing the dishes on which you and Rin had just eaten a delicious breakfast.

After completing your tasks, you made your way back up the lavish stairs of their home with every intention of going back into Rin’s childhood room that you two were sharing for the weekend when you froze. Your gaze traveled to the opposite end of the hallway, to the closed door whose presence loomed in the distance—Sae’s room.

Memories from your childhood flashed back to you, of you watching him and Rin play all too violent and scary zombie video games, rewatching his matches, and, most begrudgingly, the numerous times he nudged your head with his foot and tousled your perfectly styled hair just to get a rise out of you.

Cringing internally at the past memories, you took a further step in the direction of Rin's room before hesitating once more.

It wouldn’t hurt to take a little peek inside Sae’s room, would it?

Despite your better judgment, you shuffled over the closed door and paused with your slender digits loosely encircling the handle. Your stomach churned and your heart thumped in your chest as your inner voice warned you not to enter another person's private space without their consent. But hold on—why were you getting anxious? Who was going to catch you when no one was at home? Turning the knob gently, the heavy oak door would give way with the tiniest of creaks, revealing a rather uninteresting-looking room. But given that Sae had rarely if ever, been home since junior high, it only made sense for it to be so plain. Aside from the plethora of trophies, medals, certificates, and framed photos that lined his dresser, what made it even more amusing was that those were only the leftovers from what could not fit in his trophy case beside his wooden dresser, which housed some of his youth team jerseys and junior trinkets.

You crept further into the cold room, wrapping your arms around yourself, and shuffled over to the plethora of awards from Sae's tireless efforts. As much as you weren’t fond of him, you had to admit that it was beyond admirable that a child was able to accomplish so much in so little time. He possessed a natural talent that professionals would kill for and others were envious of. Even though you were never interested in the sport, you envied him for being so naturally gifted at something he was passionate about.

“Some ‘monster genius’, huh?” You scoffed to yourself as your gaze fell on the last photo of Sae and Rin playing on the same team together before their relationship fell apart. Oh, how you miss those good old days of your youth.

“The fuck are you doing in here?”

Coming from behind you, an all too familiar voice startled you out of your reverie. Turning around, your wide eyes came to rest on Sae's form, which was motionless in the doorway, his stoic visage forever unamused, and his overnight shoulder bag resting by his feet.

When did he come in?

More notably, he’s . . . changed from the last time you’ve seen him since the U-20 vs. Blue Lock game three years ago. He was a bit taller, probably around 6’2” now. Because he was wearing a long-sleeved white compression shirt and gray sweatpants, you were able to see that his muscles were more defined than before, with every ridge and curve pronounced more vividly. His maroon locks had grown a bit longer, with his fringes now reaching slightly beyond his chiseled, clenched jaw, though his bangs remained forever lopsided and flipped back. And his turquoise eyes—had they gotten even sharper since the last time you'd seen them? The way they were glowering down at you, it was almost as though they were piercing right through your very soul.

“You deaf or something, you half-brained moron?”

Your eyes rolled exasperatedly into the back of your head as he rudely interrupted your thoughts. Only ten seconds after you reconnected, here he was spewing insults your way.

“Nice to see you too, Sae.” You grumbled sarcastically, internally dreading what this weekend would hold in store for the both of you.

In response, he hummed, remaining motionless in the doorway as his teal eyes bore into you with something unknown. The truth is, while you were distracted by his physical appearance, he was ogling you in the same manner. You had grown since the last time he’d seen you when you were back in high school. Your once innocent eyes now had a glint in them that could only be described as nubile; your once round cheeks had slimmed a bit to fit your maturing features; and your body . . . Damn, have you really grown over the years. You had developed a more feminine frame, with fuller thighs, widened hips, larger breasts, and a more prominent ass. You had developed into a truly breathtaking young woman, despite how much he hated to admit it.

“Almost thought you weren’t going to show at all.” You sighed, lazily checking your nails. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I live here.” His voice was deadpan and monotone, yet it held an underlying hint of irritation. “All these years have passed since grade school, and you’re still as braindead as when you were a child.”

“And you’re just as much of an asshole as you used to be.”

You resisted the urge to sneer, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he was getting under your skin, as you dropped your arms to your sides. When you made this motion, his brows would furrow, and he would cast a scrutinizing glare at your choice of clothing.

Talking to him was futile, and you did not want to be in this room any longer than necessary now that he was there. “Good to have you home, genius.” You spat sarcastically, attempting to push past him to exit the room, when all of a sudden his large hand would seize your bicep, halting your steps.

Your head snapped to him, your gaze a mixture of frustration and confusion as your lips parted to shout a rebuttal his way; however, upon seeing the blazing fire that had ignited in his eyes, you hesitated. His eyes narrowed to thin slits, like two fiery coals burning fiercely within his sockets. The intensity of his gaze was enough to send shivers down your spine, making you acutely aware of the gravity of his sudden wrath. His jaw clenched tightly, showing the strain of controlling his rage, and his brows furrowed, forming a menacing V-shape above his oculars.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He seethed through clenched teeth, his voice deep and full of poorly contained malice.

You blinked. Your jaw dropped as you gawked at him, beyond perplexed. He had caught you so off guard that even you had to check what you were wearing to make sure you were not wearing anything objectionable. Nothing worth offending—fuzzy black pajama shorts that hugged your plush thighs, plain slippers, Rin's worn-out football jersey.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, you coy little slut.”

That silenced you effectively. Your eyes enlarged—almost lamblike—and your pretty lips drew in a subtle gasp. Any previous spark that had been ignited within you had quickly diminished, choosing silence over tossing more gasoline onto Sae’s roaring flames.

It appeared as though his entire being was directing his wrath into his single, piercing gaze as every muscle in his face tightened with each passing second. His lips, which are typically flat or curved into an unamused frown, were now deep-set, corners tugging into an awful scowl.

“Why are you wearing that lukewarm loser’s jersey?” When you should be wearing mine?

Now it was your turn to be infuriated as he insulted your boyfriend—his brother—the same person he had thrown out like garbage all those years earlier. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you could hear your blood pumping in your ears.

“So I’m not allowed to wear my own boyfriend’s jersey now, fuckface?” His gaze faltered. “You going to call me names for that too, Sae? Pull my hair? Spit in my face? Huh?”

“*What did you just say?”

“I said are you going to—”

“No, you cow-titted bimbo. The first thing you said.” He leaned in closer to your face, his eyes owlish and unblinking since you opened your mouth. You could smell his minty breath from the gum he had been chewing wafting into your face, “Say it again.”

“I’m not allowed to wear my boyfriend’s jersey?” You repeated, confusion etching your tone.

“That.” He snarled, his voice elated in a sick way, as though he had just found out the answer to some legendary riddle.

The hand that had been gripping your bicep now violently jerked you to the side, shoving you into his door. Before you had time to react, he crowded your personal space as his forearm pressed against the wood above your head, allowing you to smell the faint scent of his expensive cologne. “When did that happen?”

The initial fire that fueled his rage now transformed into a different kind of heat, a simmering and bitter envy that gnawed at his insides. He found himself grappling with conflicting emotions - on the one hand, he was somewhat happy that his blockhead of a brother managed to get a girlfriend, but on the other hand, it was you. The same girl that he had been pining over since you were first introduced to him all those years ago. The same girl that he thought was prettiest when she pouted at him with fat tears in her eyes and pleaded with him to be nicer to her. The same girl that consumed his thoughts 24/7. The same girl that he jerked his cock to at night after seeing how her fat tits in that all too small jersey bounced every time she cheered for his brother at that stupid game against Blue Lock. The same girl that, on all of those lonely nights overseas, he wished that, instead of fucking his fist, he was pummeling himself deep in your sopping wet cunt. The same girl that he was about to ruin before his brother got home from his whereabouts.

“Before Blue Lock . . .” Your voice was hushed, barely above a whisper, as though you were afraid of awakening a savage beast.

Three years. Three fucking years, and no one told him?! Not his mother, not his father, not Rin, not your stupid little social media (that he may or may not have been stalking) where you posted pictures of cats, candid photos of your friends, or whatever the fuck you got at your local coffee shop that day—not even you.

His once-obvious fury and visceral expression subsided, simmering beneath the surface in a contained inferno that burned with a ferocity few could fathom. Despite the turmoil raging inside him, he remained eerily calm, his stoic facade masking the storm within.

His demeanor exuded a cold, steely resolve that sent shivers down your spine and, quite frankly, took your breath away. There was an ominous sense of stillness in his presence, as if the air itself dared not disturb the calmness he projected.

“. . . Do you love him?” He spoke in hushed tones, each word enunciated with precision and purpose. There was no need for loud outbursts; the intensity of his calmness alone was enough to make you cower beneath him.

You were dumbfounded by his question, powerless to respond, and yet the longer you remained silent, the more you could see the cracks in his facade begin to scorch through his surface.

“D-Don’t be stupid, Sae. Of course I do, he’s my—”

You would never be able to finish your statement quick enough before his hands were on you, meaty palms digging into your hair, blunt nails scratching against your scalp as he grabbed a visceral hold onto your roots. The searing pain and astonishment coursing through your frame had you shrieking—in what? You didn’t know. Fear? Agony? Guilt?

Using his grip on you as a lead, he would tug you forcefully out of your slippers and down the hall to somewhere unknown. He ignored your screams as the weight atop your head forced your sight to the ground, your manicured nails digging into his wrist and clawing in an attempt to be freed.

“S-Sae, I-I’m sorry! Please, let me go! You’re hurting me!”

He said nothing, his heavy and deliberate footsteps speaking for him before he paused a short distance later. He threw you forward carelessly with surprising strength, causing you to land painfully on the wooden floors in front of you, barely having time to brace yourself with your palms. You had no time to catch your breath, though, as he shuffled over to you with fast-paced footsteps. Looking up fretfully, you would see Sae towering over you, taking notice that you were now on the floor of Rin’s room just before his bed.

“Sae—”

“Sae! Sae! Don’t be stupid; I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He openly mocked you, his lip curled into the faintest of sneers as he glowered down at you in hatred. Although even you could see that there was a bit of hurt behind his cruel teal eyes, “All you do is flap those pretty fuckin’ lips of yours, never knowin’ when to shut your stupid little trap.”

He relished in the way your bottom lip trembled and your eyes grew glassy, the same way they used to all those years ago.

“Still a little crybaby too, I see. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be sorry soon enough for leading me on all this time.” He grumbled, lunging for you again.

He snagged at your roots again, drawing a sob from your lips as he mercilessly dragged you to your feet. Releasing his grip on your hair, he instead chose to grab your jaw harshly in his palm, using his thumb and forefinger to squish your cheeks and pucker your lips so that he may smash his lips against your own. It was messy, sloppy, and full of passion and rage on Sae’s end. He smeared your gloss, claimed your brims, and forced his tongue into your pretty, pliant mouth, all with the intention of claiming you and your maw for his own—but you would never let him.

You belong to Rin! You were loyal to him! So then, why do Sae’s lips feel so damn good against your own right now? This was wrong. So, so wrong, and yet, why did you want more of him?

Your mind was cloudy. Your head was spinning. You couldn’t breathe. He was suffocating you. Your dainty fists beat at his beefy chest and shoulders, trying to get him to get off of you, but to no avail. Instead, he seized both of your wrists in the grasp of his other hand and squeezed painfully in a warning, forcing you to whine against his lips—a delightful sound that went straight to his hardening bulge that he shamelessly pressed against you, grinding sinfully against your hips.

When he finally pulled away from you, you clearly appeared dazed. Your eyes were half-lidded and glassy, yet you were silently pleading for him to give you more. Your plump lips had swollen from his being pressed so forcefully against your own, and a singular strand of saliva still connected your lips to his own—one which he would sinfully lick away with a salacious swipe of his tongue.

The hand he used to grab your face gently shook your head back and forth, his sadistic turquoise hues savoring your already fucked-out expression. “There’s the greedy bitch I know and love. Finally decided to show yourself, huh? What? You want more, hm? What about your little boyfriend, princess?”

“R-Rin . . . I love, Ri—” You were cut off when Sae’s expression flared, his hand releasing your face for naught but seconds before connecting with your cheek in a hard slap. You squealed from the impact, your head whipping to the side in shock, but you could not help but feel strangely aroused by the contact. He grabbed your cheeks in his palm once more and tightened his hold on your face, bringing you closer to him until you were nose to nose.

“Don’t lie to me, you little minx.” He snarled as he cut his eyes at you. “You don’t think I’ve noticed the way you’ve been looking at me after all these years, like you wanted me? Or that I haven’t overheard your stupid little conversations about how dreamy you think I am to your friends, huh? Or how about now, when you swear up and down that you love my loser little brother, when here you are already going stupid on me when I’ve barely even touched you?”

You clenched your eyes shut as hot, guilty tears rushed behind your lids. He’s right. You've wanted him—always have—but it was too late now. You were with Rin, and he was the love of your life. You could not possibly change that, could you?

“Just say it, Y/N.” He chided, his voice softer than it was before, yet it still held it’s cold, irritated undertone. “Say you want me, and I’ll make you feel better than that lukewarm little shit ever has.” He released your face and smoothed his thick digits over the top of your head, stopping only when he could rest his fingers beneath your chin and tilt your head to look up at him. Your gaze focused on him once more.

“ . . . I want you, Sae. B-But Rin . . . ”

Sae hushed you again, pressing his lips against yours. How badly he wanted that name to never again be uttered by your lovely tongue. When Sae pulled away again, there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“We’ll be quick, okay?” A lie. He was going to take his time fucking his brother’s name out of your memory. “He’ll never suspect a thing.”

Your apprehension was palpable, but ultimately you would succumb to sin and let desire and greed rule over logic and reason. You nodded, giving him the nonverbal go-ahead to stomp on the accelerator and never let up.

“Good girl.” He praised you, both hands abandoning your face to now grip at the collar of your shirt. In one swift motion, he ripped Rin’s jersey clean off of you from down the middle. “About time we got that shit off of you. The sight of it was makin’ me sick.” He spat as he tossed the tattered fabric over his shoulder.

You were not wearing a bra, so the violent motion had your breasts bouncing free after being momentarily released from their confines, allowing them to slap softly against the flesh of your rib cage—much to Sae’s viewing pleasure. You grew sheepish as he seemed to freeze, staring so brazenly at your bare breasts that you began to feel a bit self-conscious. Was something wrong? Did he not like them? Was he expecting more? Less?

In reality, the answer was none of the above. The midfielder swore under his breath as he shoved you back onto Rin's cozy comforter. He hastily climbed on top of you and used his body weight to pin you against the bed as his lustful hands began to grope and knead at your supple flesh, eliciting precious mewls with each delightful squeeze. His lips would latch onto one of your breasts as he dipped his head downward; the thumb and forefinger of his free hand would play with the other, teasing your nipples. His sharp teeth bit greedily over the delicate areola as his tongue flicked and laved over the hardening buds. The stimulation only served to heighten your arousal, as evidenced by the way you wailed his name like a sweet song meant only for his ears and how your thighs squeezed together from your excitement drooling from your folds.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Sae, who was busy alternating between pleasuring both of your breasts and growling under his breath, “Lewd fuckin’ body. S’all mine . . .” When he pulled away, there were visible marks left in his wake—light red splotches and indentations of hungry teeth imprinted on your skin.

He reached for the hem of his compression shirt and lifted it above his head, tossing it off to the side as he sat above you, staring lustfully down at you. He would manhandle you further after sliding off of your body. He pulled your shorts down in one motion, grabbed your thick thighs by the backs of your knees, and pushed them up towards your breasts. When he did, he couldn’t help but whistle, admiring how your puffy folds clung together and your inner thighs remained sticky from your translucent arousal.

“Has he ever made you wet like this?” Sae inquired, leering at you from between your thighs like a hungry lion with it’s eyes set predatorily on a helpless gazelle, to which your gaze would quickly avert. You and Rin had such a strong emotional bond that you never felt the need for frequent sex between you two. There were a few times, though, when Rin would fuck you after a winning game in a way that made you see stars, but those were always very far apart.

Your silence was all Sae needed for his answer. He crept back up onto you, chuckling sardonically as he held your thigh up with one hand, using his body to keep your other spread apart. He wanted to see all of your pretty expressions up close and personal when he ravished you. Swiping two of his fingers between your folds, the sudden motion caused your hips to jerk into his touch and you to keen with need.

Slowly, he inserted a single digit inside of you, hissing at how your walls selfishly gripped his fingers and eagerly tried to devour more of him. “Loosen up, will you, greedy slut?” He slapped your thigh with his other hand as your back arched with pleasure. “This tight pussy will never be able to take my cock at this rate.”

You tried to loosen up, you really did, but there was something so delicious—so tantilizing—about his thick, calloused fingers caressing your velvety walls that made you crave more of him. He continued to thrust his single digit inside of you, his teal oculars peering into your own with such intensity that it forced you to look away.

“Stop that.” His hand that grabbed the back of your knee slithered along your outer thigh until he could grasp your chin and force you to look back at him. “Eyes on me.” He ordered, to which you would nod dumbly amidst your pleasured mewls.

You felt the delightful stretch of another of his thick fingers pressing into your sopping cunt, thrusting in tandem with his previous one, as he leaned closer to you and his lips just barely touched your own.

“S-Sae, mmph, more, please, please, touch me more.” You begged, bringing a sinful smirk to the midfielder’s lips.

Unexpectedly, he would comply with your requests, pressing the pad of his thumb against your throbbing clit and rubbing quick, pleasurable cricles with his fingers as he arduously sought out that sweet, sweet spot inside of you. You could not help but start sobbing his name, his thick fingers filling you to the brim even though he had yet to stuff his cock into you. Each time he curled upward inside of you, his impeccable skill had you gasping for reprieve.

It was nothing like Rin’s. His fingers were slightly thinner than his brother’s, but they were a tad longer too, able to reach the deepest spots within you without even trying. Sae's immense precision and experience, which allowed him to know exactly where your sweetest spots lay within you, made up for his lack of length.

“ . . . Are you seriously thinking about him right now?”

You were startled out of your reverie by his curious tone and thinly veiled anger. You tried to focus on his hardened features through your daze, but you couldn’t. The knot in your tummy tightened, and you felt an enormous wave of pleasure wash over you. Something big was coming, and you could feel it reverberating all throughout your core.

“He could never make you feel this good, could he? Never get this pretty cunt this wet for him, hm?” All throughout his monologue, you could hear the sinful squelching of your juices soaking his palm, dripping down his wrist, and splattering onto the floor. You were a mess beneath him. He would abuse that rough patch just along your upper walls until your toes clung to the sheets in ecstasy.

“M’sorry, m’sorry!” You mewled, breath coming out in short, high-pitched pants as you writhed under him, his pace increasing as he felt your walls fluttering around his fingers.

“Who’s making a mess of you right now? Huh? Speak up, princess; let me hear you say it.”

“—You, Sae! You, you, you! Hah, please, I-I can’t . . . ! I-I’m gonna—”

“Do it. Cum on my fuckin’ fingers. Make a mess for me, pretty.”

You did just that. Your body went rigid for naught but a second before your back was arched into him, and your head tossed itself back into the pillows as a chorus of unabashed wails of your release erupted from your pretty, drooling lips. Your release was immense—loud—as a gushing of juices from your pussy thoroughly drenched the sheets, Sae’s sweatpants, his abs, and his entire forearm.

You squirted. For him. For the first time ever.

It was uncharacteristic how an almost feral grin twisted on Sae’s lips, his fingers removing from your sopping cunt to place a few well-directed slaps on your far too sensitive and overstimulated pussy.

“Atta’ fuckin’ girl. Can’t believe my baby brother was keeping such a sweet little succubus all to himself—selfish bastard.”

You couldn’t even hear him; your chest was rising and falling heavily as tears of pleasure ran down your cheeks (and thighs).

“Hey, hey. You still with me?” His tone was soft, his typically impassive visage now meeting your own with furrowed eyebrows and a tinge of concern behind his bright hues.

You nodded—it was all you could muster at this moment, but it was good enough for Sae. He brought his soaking hand to your parted lips, lightly tapping the digits on your plump flesh in a silent command for you to clean him off. He chuckled. Your lithe tongue and eager brims slurped, licked, and sucked your mess off of his thick fingers that were now shoved down your throat without you even needing to be told what to do.

“You wanna do that again for me? On my cock this time, pretty?”

You were exhausted, your body already aching beneath him, but you still craved more from him. Another meek nod was given, your dazed eyes meeting his only to utter around his fingers, words garbled from his fingers on your tongue, “Wantha’ squirth’ awound ya cahwk.”

That was all Sae needed to hear as he stepped off of the bed, making quick work to discard his soaked sweatpants and boxers into the growing pile of clothes at the base of the bed. His large hands grabbed your soft hips, tugging you toward him with ease as he flipped you onto your hands and knees. He let out a growl, his hand raising to smack your plump ass once, then twice, on both of your cheeks before taking big, greedy handfuls of your flesh into his ravenous palms. This was undoubtedly already his favorite thing about you.

Standing by the edge of the bed, Sae placed your body horizontally across the mattress with your head facing the door. With a forceful push of your face down into the sheets, your view of the room instantly became obscured. You craned your neck back, peering at Sae from over the arch of your back as he grabbed one of your fat cheeks in one hand and used his other to line his cock up with your entrance. He slapped his heavy cock against your folds, his blossoming mushroom tip connecting with your throbbing clit making you both keen with ecstasy.

He couldn’t wait any more. He needed to be inside of you. He entered your drooling cunt with a single, calculated push, and your fluttering walls were already trying to devour more of him in response to the intrusion. Sae groaned as his hips met the flesh of your ass once he was buried to the hilt inside of you. His head lulled back as he dug his blunt nails into your flesh.

For the past three years, this—this right here is exactly what he had been craving, yearning over, and lusting for—and now he had it. He nearly came from the feeling inside of you alone, though; he’d be damned if he let the fun stop there.

A steady pace was quickly established by the midfielder's hips, and his long, deliberate strokes were deep enough to feel in your tummy and cause your toes to curl up in pleasure. Having had such a powerful orgasm not even minutes earlier, you were still fairly sensitive; however, that only made things all the more enjoyable.

“O-Oh my god, y-your cock, it’s t-too much, I-I can’t—”

“Don’t tell me you can’t, you cock-loving slut.” He snapped at you, cutting your pleas short with a sharp thrust of his hips. The rhythmic plapping of your ass against his pelvis resonated off the walls of the bedroom, lewdly ringing in your own ears. “This is everything I—we’ve—been wanting for years. Don’t tell me that now, all of a sudden—” He paused, groaning deeply through gritted teeth as you clenched around him. “—That this pretty pussy can’t take anymore when you’re gripping me so desperately.”

“B-But Sae, i-it feels too good! Like I’m . . . I’m gonna make a mess again!” You whined.

He thought it was adorable that even in the most deplorable and deprived of acts, you still attempted to hold some semblance of modesty. Oh, how you were both far past that.

If anything, that just fueled his aggression. He used your words as justification to pummel your poor pussy harder and faster, putting both of his hands on your hips and lower back and pressing his weight against you to force you into an almost painful arch as his pelvis slammed into your ass. Your vision went blurry from his unforgiving pace, and your throat went raw from your cries and screams of pleasure.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” He grunted in between thrusts, a hand raising to land a furious smack on your ass that caused you to mewl and your tiny fists to grip the sheets.

“Y-You, Sae! You are! Ngh, plea—”

“And who’s cock do you like better, huh, princess? Me or that lukewarm fuckface’s?”

You hesitated, but only for a millisecond, as you felt the blunt head of his cock caressing your sweet spot, pummeling into you over and over as your thighs began to shake, growing unable to hold yourself up from the stimulation. His thrusts faltered as his cock twitched inside of you. You figured he was close too.

“Yours, y-yours! Your cock feels so good, I-I’m gonna cum again! I’m ngh gonna cum all over your f-fuck-ing cock!”

He let out an almost animalistic groan, something between a chuckle and a feral snarl, “Yeah, princess? You really mean it?” He moved one of his hands to your hair, threading his fingers through it without yet pulling, almost as if he were waiting for your response.

Your response was almost instantaneous, and the adorable chorus of incoherent babbles and cries of "yes, yes, yes" left your head spinning. You had the sensation that you might pass out completely.

Your head was abruptly yanked out of the pillows, and your gaze was once again forced upward. Your eyes, albeit blurry and glassy, caught sight of the all-too-familiar figure standing in the doorway. Sweat dribbling from his forehead while dressed in a white windbreaker and sweatpants to protect himself from the elements during his jog, stood the one person who filled you with dread.

Rin.

He was back.

As your eyes locked onto the all-too-memorable teal ones boring into your own, your moans ceased. The logic and reason that you had previously dismissed for giving into your desires came flooding back. Guilt, which had been gnawing at the pit of your stomach, reared it’s ugly head once more.

He caught you.

With his brother.

The realization of your actions, the feeling of knowing that you hurt someone you cared deeply about and promised your life to, left you reeling. The enormity of the situation left you speechless and unable to respond.

As the shock slowly gave way to the depths of your despair, tears welled up in your eyes, this time of anguish. Your ability to control your emotions ran out, and you began to sob, letting the tears run down your cheeks. Each tear that ran free was weighed down by guilt and regret.

All the while, Sae never stopped thrusting behind you. Almost as if he remained unfazed by his brother’s—your boyfriend’s—sudden appearance.

“R-Rin—”

“—Save it.”

His initial shock, disbelief, and hurt gradually gave way to something else. He was angry, searing with anger as malice began to rise within him, a blaze of fury that threatened to consume him. Though he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at . . . Sae?

“You told me you would wait until I got back, Nii-chan.”

The air left your lungs.

. . . What?

Using the grip from your hair, Sae pulled you back into him, pressing your body flush against his own as he craned your neck back into an awkward angle, forcing your gaze to meet his own. A dark and unsettling satisfaction crept into his expression, the corner of his lips tugging into a smirk. His eyes sparkled with a perverse delight, reveling in the twisted pleasure he derived from your adorably bewildered and anguished expression.

Your breath hitched.

Your mind raced for answers.

Sae’s gaze lazily tore from your own and to Rin's, who still remained in the doorway, the forward’s eyes sinfully burning into the way your breasts bounced sinfully from each of Sae’s now slow, agonizing thrusts.

"You know, little brother, it is not too late to join in on the fun."

ⓒ vampiie 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.

if this gets enough attention, i may make a part two!

[godihatethiswebsite]

Tethered Bonds

✽ Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)

A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part Five - On Trial

Apologies for the delay as there were a few speed bumps that my foggy brain just did not want to hump over. This chapter gave me some grief, but I'm still happy with how it turned out :)

Trigger Warnings: religious imagery, ptsd, angst, brief mentions of rape/incest/assault/drugging/coercion/miscarriage

Flat deadened eyes bore chasms through your own.

They peeled away the impregnable shroud of shame masking the abhorrent malefactions of those you’ve wronged.

In a split second of time, those eyes foisted judgment upon all your heinous sins with an executioner’s toll. Damning you to an endless oblivion amongst the cacophony of wailing souls eternally condemned to the River Styx.

Behold! The face of your adjudicator!

Blackened barbed wire constricts the fat of his gluttonous form. Exposed sickly ashen skin held together by threaded catgut, bursting at the seams with bone-white mold. Hellfire caged in little glass vials illuminates the agonized expression glued to a visage of perpetual torment, standing against a backdrop of towering decayed limbs, basking in the multitude of jewel toned offerings left by those who worship at the base of this miserable creature’s sacrificial altar.

…Of all the cheerful residents from the Hundred Acre Wood, who on god’s green earth decided that Eeyore of all things would be the poster boy for Christmas?

The melancholically predisposed cartoon character was a mess of tangled Christmas lights, having apparently failed in his endeavor to liven up the wilted excuse of a barren evergreen behind him and somehow succeeding in trapping his own pudgy form in the decorations instead – the ‘D’ in December knocked crooked in his fruitless struggles.

A paltry souvenir magnet from someplace sunny holds the calendar aloft, Winnie the Pooh designs posted on the side of your fridge with thick glossy sheets. A gift from your fathers; a new one included in their holiday care package every year. 

You’re sure the overstuffed box currently shoved beneath your kitchen table for lack of anywhere more reasonable to house it has its plastic-wrapped replacement buried amongst the other contents. Previous years involved such colorful settings as early 2000’s internet memes or a compilation of fun facts regarding the world’s different varieties of cheeses. Not for your own enjoyment, of course, but for the chagrined expression your family insisted on basking in come Christmas morn.

Not that you admitted to liking this past year's theme of childhood whimsey…

The curlicue numbers on the wintery grid mark the passage of time – crossed out with dry streaks of red ink. Christmas is naught but five days from now, the emphasized date stamped in the upper righthand corner with a glittery ribbon as if the holiday needed even more call for attention. It means almost nothing to you outside of a familial facetime over a microwaved breakfast of cheap eggo waffles. 

You’ll suffer congenially through the good natured poking and prodding. Chloe will send a text; Alex won’t. And the day will pass by in a whisper of silence – the magic of miracles stored back in their damp corporate box for cheapened rehashing the following year.

Holing away in the confines of your solitary habitat came with the added benefit of only exposing yourself to the overhyped celebration on a reasonable once-weekly basis, driving to and fro your therapist's office; painfully ignoring the garish spectacle of such yuletide enrichment as fuzzy wonky reindeer antlers wedged atop sticker splattered minivans, off-key fourth graders caterwauling carols in the backseat, tinsel and fiberglass grating on your teeth.

At least, your antisocialness normally would save you from such headaches. 

When the pharmacy didn’t bungle communications with your primary care physician and refill your prescription two weeks early. 

The voicemail left on your phone this morning was a little more than a minor annoyance. You’d only just finished chasing the taste of bile with citrusy mouthwash, leaning your leaded weight against the cold marble of the sink, stomach still spasming with painful braxton hicks-like contractions. Shaky hands splashed tepid water on your face, wicking away the evidence of exertion and clearing your chin of digested chicken noodle. 

You’d only half paid attention to the robotic voice droning over speakerphone, wiping off your face with a disgruntled glare at your reflection and muffling a groan into the pilled fabric of your hand towel at the automated message. This was not a day to be playing at adulthood. This was a day for warm chunky socks and Disney movie marathons. 

And now because some overworked new hire chugging Red Bulls probably keyed in the wrong refill date in an over-caffeinated zeal, you were once again paying for someone else's mistake. 

(A running theme for your life.)

You shook off the bitter thought with a weary sigh, hanging the damp towel from the plastic command hook on peeling wallpaper. The buzzing of the keypad rattled the counter as you’d cleared out your phone’s voicemail, scooping up the device and trudging back around the corner to begin what should’ve originally been an easy day. 

Now, a few hours of lounging had garnered you enough gumption to voyage out amongst proper society once more, rinsing your chubby dinosaur mug from earlier in the sink as your eyes flick up unwittingly to the calendar nearby. 

You know what you’re counting even as you abash yourself for it. 

The crumpled bag of mostly full coffee grounds has been sitting in your bin for the past two days, put there in an abstract protest to the blatant disregard of your feelings by a caustic alpha. The taste on your tongue has become as phantom as the scent that once clung to your coat rack, wafted away by a bottle of descenting spray the same way you wish to purge his lingering effervescence from where it's taken root in your spine.

The offending bag collects dust at the top of the pile, placed there in a huff at the start of every morning. When its existence mocks your suffering and the grief of a life you’ll never get to live is at the forefront of every painful heave into grimy porcelain, forced onto your knees like the flaccid servient creature that beast has morphed you into. 

Still, there’s no sign of refuse or food waste on the flimsy outside packaging. It never stays put long enough to accumulate filth or bury itself in neglected disuse. At the end of the night, when the wounds of before are wrapped in a somnolent layer of protective padding, it returns to its spot amongst the clutter of your countertop, a pitiful idol to the foolish part he’s allowed to fester against your better judgment.

God, you’ve tried so hard to ignore it – you really have. With what little there is to occupy your mind in this lackluster environment, the labor of staying detached is proving arduous. John’s memory agitating the stripped-bare axis of simple order your world rotates upon.

Distraction eludes you at every attempt to forget. The warmth of your nest is the comfort of his leather embrace, the Zofran on your tongue the calloused paw at your nape grounding you in tempered reality. Soft boar hair bristles are his fingers, the zest in your meal his vigor. His face is in the deep prussian sweater jailed to the back of your closet for the sole crime of coming too close to the cerulean shade that haunts your waking memory.

You thought you already knew what it meant to belong to another. To be branded with someone else’s signet like a bored kid in history class taking chunks out of his desk until it was too desecrated with graffiti to be regarded as anything other than his unofficial property. No one wanted to touch what the school bully had already sullied.

Until John.

It didn’t matter that the seat was already occupied. He just scratched out the nameplate with safety scissors and staked his claim with a wad of gum beneath the chair.

He was dark matter wedging its way to take up space between condensed molecules, bullying the other elements into submission until his chemical makeup twisted you to something there was no coming back from. Sweeping in with the strength of a category five and the persistence of the big bad wolf.

You despise John for the damage he’s incurred to your house made of straw – all of them really – but you detest yourself even more for the gnawing disappointment flooding your gut that he hasn’t shaken the foundations further.

The hiss of pain between your teeth as you adjust the abrasive scarf around your neck serves as a sobering reminder of the real cancer infecting your cells. Even if the claim was buried under layers, it didn’t mean your flesh didn’t still carry the scars from its etching. 

Slinging your purse over your shoulder, you take to the task of unlocking each of the bolts guarding you from the true terrors of an alpha’s altruistic attention. 

Please just let this be quick.

The sneer from the old crone in aisle two has you ducking the latter half of your face in the itchy fabric that hides the one thing you’re currently being judged for.

You don’t know her name, but you’ve seen her outside the steps of your apartment enough with her hellspawn of a pomeranian to know she lives in your building. The grey curls of her poodle cut perm do nothing to hide the splotches of alopecia that come with age. Tissue paper skin dappled with sun spots begs for the youth of collagen, gaunt around her cheekbones and only highlighting her witchy exterior, a moth eaten shawl hanging loosely over the quasimodo hump keeping her from standing at a height taller than that of a twelve year old child.

The grouchy bat is clever, though, you’ll give her that. There’s a discerning eye behind those tortoiseshell frames that speak of a bygone prime filled with intrigue and gossip that’s followed her well into her twilight years. 

She’s honed her intellect well.

And she knows.

Your skin crawls with maggots under her heated glare, boring subdermal tunnels that reach beyond the capabilities of a simple itch. The writhing anomalies only add to the growing discomfort of waiting in the pharmacy queue for far longer than need be. Ten minutes you’ve been behind the same middle aged man – too diffident to interrupt the conversation going on ahead of you – as what should’ve been a simple snatch and grab of his blood pressure medication turns into three decades of catching up with a bygone acquaintance from primary school.

“–when Janine drank some weird concoction back at Jimmy’s place. Fucking health nut has his own carbonator in his kitchen and she got the bright idea on six shots of cuervo to run a glass of milk through the damn thing. Ended up spewing all over Crystal’s pants.”

To their credit, the pharmacist had at least been working on filling prescriptions as he prattled on with the bald spot beta in front of you, bustling between stocked aisles of jarred substances and counting out little white tablets with every ping from the database. He just didn’t seem to care about the goings on inside the store. “Adam mentioned that when I ran into him at the football match last June. Isn’t that O’Hara’s omega? The one who used to save her gum in a giant ball after she was done chewing it?”

Eww. Seriously?

“Nah, that’s Abigail. Crystal was Billy and Carter’s girl.”

That seemed to catch the other alpha in his tracks, a quizzical brow replacing one of mild interest as he paused his fingers over the keyboard. “Was? What happened to her?”

“Fucking up and left them, that’s what. And right after they supported her through that unfortunate miscarriage too. Came home one day to an empty nest and a note on the table telling them she was done. Poor guys never even saw it coming.”

“Wow. Who would’ve thought she’d turn out to be one of them?”

“Yea,” the beta’s tone turned sour. “Unfaithful bitch.”

The Unfaithful. 

That’s what they call you now. 

Those who have forsaken their oaths and disgraced the name ‘omega’. The sanctity of packdom desecrated by egocentric bond breakers. Scheming harlots abandoning their worshipful protectors– denying them their designated rights and withholding the gift of eternal peace upon those alphas worthy enough to be chosen.

False omegas. Government apostates to how things are supposed to be run.

Doesn’t matter that those who claim to be victims before the courts are the same conniving bastards stripping us of our bodily autonomy. Nothing is impermissible. 

Rape. Incest. Assault. Drugging. Coercion. Words that carry weight become cotton candy deadlifts in the face of a mating bond. It has no undoing – no magic words or medical procedures. There is no running towards the arms of a better pack in hopes of a brighter future; no room for another in the tether of your soul. That anchor has taken root in the rock bed and cannot be claimed outside the mysticism of a scent match. 

Crueler parts of the world would hunt you down like the runaway slave they’re too cowardice to admit they perceive you as, a bounty placed upon your head and welts on your back for disobeying, brittle nails clawing at the dirt in a last attempt at freedom, dragged back to your master in an iron wrought collar displaying the shame of your sins. 

Suppose you should consider yourself lucky that here, amongst the dredges of refined society, your kind are merely shunned.

Bosom friends all turn their backs, work desks empty into a cardboard box under the guise of ‘performance issues’. The deli at the corner claims they’re closed, red blocky letters drawing blood by the gallons as the patrons inside regard you like you’re nothing more than a sopping wet stray begging for scraps in the rain.

There are no laws that protect from discrimination for people like you. The lease in your fathers’ names and the lie from their lips are the only things sheltering you from homelessness. Others are not so fortunate as to have the word of an alpha keeping them off the street. 

The forlorn promise of a better tomorrow is all that greets you now in the wake of devastation. There is no higher contract than the bite marks on your neck. 

The scathing look from the disgruntled woman would be warranted by those around you if they were privy to the same suspicions she carried. The signs were all there if they only knew where to look.

“Miss?”

You hardly notice when they end their interaction, the off-putting customer service smile from the alpha behind the counter making the pit of your stomach rumble with unease as you scurry to the front, quietly offering up your personal information as you place your ID on the counter.

If he only knew he had the power to blacklist you in his hands…

You fork over the cash in far shorter time than the previous customer did, spending less than two minutes to his twenty before you duck away from the substantial line that’s formed in the time since your subsequent arrival. 

It’s your luck the old hag is three guests behind you, averting your gaze to the task of stashing your meds to try and keep from further interaction. Too bad a half century’s worth of smoking comes out in the rasping slur she spits at you from underneath her breath.

“Fucking glitch.”

You’ve heard the words directed at you once before, only far more cutting and uttered from a far different mouth. That didn’t stop the insult from piercing through to bone, a deep ache in your ribs that slows your gait and gives you pause beside the basket drop-off. 

A quick glance around confirms a lack of disdain from your fellow shoppers. You’re surprisingly fortunate that her biting remark hadn’t been made any louder. You frequent this shop often enough to be recognizable to most of the staff – though not on any sort of conversational terms. Being blacklisted here wouldn’t just result in an inconvenient trek farther for medical service, but a mark that would deny usage no matter the location.

Every step out your front door is a chance for your past to catch up to you… in one form or another.

A shock of cold jolts you from your far-away stare, startling a yelp that draws brief attention as you jump back from the unwanted contact, hand retreating away at the abrupt offense. Cradling it to your chest, you’re met with cobalt eyes and sunshine hair, a bright eyed pupper beaming up at you from its spot perched at your feet.

“Sorry about him!” An apologetic voice squawks to the left of you, calling your attention to the hobbling beta woman at the other end of the leash. Her neon green marshmallow puffer greets you before her dark curls and round cheeks, a prosthetic hand keeping grip on her furry friend. “He’s a well behaved boy I promise! Ain’t gonna bite ya or anything.”

“Oh no, he’s fine!” The tremble in your words is more from social awkwardness than anything, having been caught off guard in a place far too crowded for your tastes, rolling your shoulders to halt the impulse to scratch. “Just wasn’t expecting a wet dog nose is all.”

The beta, on the other hand, has no problem running a knitted mitten over the back of her neck. “Yeaaaah, it’s not often he gets away from me like that. You see, he’s my service animal.” She calls attention to the black vest around his body, a litany of bright colored patches and big blocky words adorning the functioning harness that you hadn’t quite discerned upon first glance. “He uh… was just alerting to you.”

It takes you a moment to process the words, blinking down at the panting canine regarding you with eyes more keen than the pea-brained expression would suggest. 

Good to know even a dog can sense you’re nine different levels of fucked up.

“You can pet him if you want,” comes the gentle offer upon spying the embarrassment painting your features, taking her faithful companion’s inattention in stride. The quirk of her mouth gives you a green light even if her words already did. “Far be it for me to disagree with the boss here when he puts his mind to something.”

The words of declination rest limp on your tongue, a moment’s hesitation giving way beneath the understanding gaze of an impartial animal whose sole purpose is to provide the comfort of love. Crouching down to its level – uncaring of the salt trekked state of the tile – it's almost instinctual to wrap your arms around the retriever for an act that seems so much more dangerous coming from any other being. The muzzle that finds home in the junction of your shoulder roots you through the floor, going beyond solid concrete foundation and miles of serpentine pipeways, winding through terraceous cracks unyielding to the progress of man to find purchase in the damp soil unseen for thousands of years, unbowing to the anything but the turn of the earth.

Calm is not the word; the pounding pulse in your ears and the headrush of being out in public still ring through the chittering bustle of checkout lanes to keep you on your toes. Yet the ache in your soul feels less like a boulder and more like a handful of a pebbled shore.

Pulling away from the smell of damp fur, slobber greets your face in the form of affection, features pulling taut against the playful onslaught trying its best to intrude between the cracks of your mouth. 

“Easy does it, bud.” A soft yank on his harness serves as a gentle reminder, turning from loveable pup to esteemed gentleman panting in perfect submission. “No one wants to taste what you had for lunch earlier today.”

You flash her a grateful smile for the interference, fingers moving next to scritch around the bright red collar mostly hidden by dense hairs, a glinting dog bone with cursive scrawl clacking against the knuckles of your hand. “Rocky, huh?”

“Yea,” she chuckles. “Don’t judge, but he was actually my favorite power ranger as a kid.” Her mittened hand joins yours in the thick pelt of his neck, scratching at some secret spot that gets his tail thumping, the appendage a whirling propeller trying in vain to achieve liftoff. How long they must’ve been in each other’s company for such familiarity. “Figured since this little guy was gonna be my hero too, he deserved a name befitting the courage he inspires.”

Her sincerity sparks something in you as you reach back to your own childhood, the sizzling of pancakes on the griddle against a backdrop of Saturday morning shows. Your smile warms at the memory. “Hey, no judgment here. After all, mine was Tommy.”

The moment breaks with shattered glass somewhere off to the right, the both of you reacting with varying degrees of frazzled nerves. You don’t miss the way her hand strikes out with practiced swiftness towards her hip, something nonexistent bumped away from flexing fingers by a patience nudge. Wide eyes glance down at her stalwart companion, already staring back with all the surety of his namesake, pushing her palm further against the smoothness of his head, urging her to stay with him in the safety of the moment. You don’t know the ghosts that haunt her–doing your best to avert your gaze from the glimpse of carbon fiber–but you watch as they retreat with calming breaths back to the place where they were born.

She shoots you a look you know she rather wouldn’t, an unspoken apology wrapped in embarrassment as familiar to you as it is to her, understanding passing between mirrored irises. There’s a shuffling of feet as you both scurry on your respective ways, you towards the outside air while her path takes her further inward. A quick glance over your shoulder finds him pressed against her side, snout turned upwards with a lolling tongue and dopey smile, eyes on the caregiver staring back at him with fond devotion. To have something that loves you that much…

Your gaze softens along with your words. “Good boy, Rocky…”

Fire ants bite into your cheek as the sharp crack that accompanies them leaves an outline of lava, the slap mark on your face glowing red hot and searing with the weight behind their assault. It dulls as the molten rock cools, a beating heart on the surface kept in time with the now racing pulse in your neck. The shock of it is almost as painful as the protruding iron shelves getting knocked against your spine, blowback jostling the festive display contents some poor stocker worked so hard on as cardboard cubes of kleenex clatter like ornaments to the muck-stained floor.

The outcry from your lips is muffled in comparison to groaning metal shifting under your weight, hand instinctively flying up as a wall to protect from further onslaught. Heat blooms again even under your careful touch, hissing in a gasp as wide eyes filled with glistening saline catch up a moment before your nostrils take in a familiar decadence. 

Her omega scent of rich warm brownie, fresh out the oven – but swallowed from the edges by the beginnings of char. Too high a temp getting cooked for too long, potent in its fury as it cracks and concaves. A sickeningly sweet outer shell transmuting under pressure, turning perfect gooey fudge into bubbling tar.

The visage that greets you is tempered by dread; a mixture of refined beauty and smoldering hate.

White fluffy earmuffs contrast against long chocolate waves spilling like molasses over a matching pristine peacoat – as if not even fate itself dared to sully such purity. If the air of refinement somehow doesn’t outclass you than the designer handbag does. No pack could ask for a more exemplary omega.

You’ve seen those cheekbones on the cover of magazines, that glassy skin splashed clean in luxury skincare ads. Perfect porcelain as artistically rendered as fine chinaware. Every model you’ve ever envied taken shape as your worst nightmare. Dark bambi eyes red-ringed with acidic tears, button nose flaring with each heaving rise of her trembling shoulders. Full pouty lips quiver under the enormous weight of emotions that threaten to claw almond manicured nails through your skin like chainsaws.

There is anger, but there is also pain.

And you caused it.

You do not know which response consumes you more: panic, or shame. 

“You–” her voice breaks like her heart, delicate wind chimes in a spring downpour. “You s-stay away from them…” Her words come in a struggle, fighting for stability whilst she hangs onto her composure with a thread as thin as spider silk. “They’re not yours… so… so just– just leave us alone!”

Gone is the lighthearted vision spun in innocent etherealness from that day in the store. Sparkling doe eyes now filled with scorn don’t suit the unblemished being not a foot in front of you. There’s an ingrained sweetness in her now pitiful form that so easily calls to an alpha’s protectiveness, a creature that deserves to be cherished, adorned; royalty reincarnated to a modern day princess.

There are only traces of that now standing a few feet in front of the automatic sliding doors, a smashed box of tissues keeping the mechanism from closing and sending a chill over the entire conversation. 

You shrink in on yourself, lowering your gaze in a meek show of submission that speaks where your own voice fails. How could you continue to look her in the eye when you are the reason this woman is suffering? When you are the bad guy in every sense of the word?

Filth. Sullied. Poison. Suffocating her with your very presence as if your own tainted pheromones could overcast hers.

You expect more–deserve more–but she turns on her heels, the sensors allowing passage as she hurries back out the way you suspect she only just came.

You’re as stunned as the bystanders around you, blinking at her retreating form into the small parking lot beyond. You can’t help but watch as she races across the asphalt, thoughts of her own task left behind in a trail of her own tears. Badly muffled whispers start in earnest at the display. Chorused words of ‘wicked woman’ following you out onto the pavement. Tongues lashing into open wounds kept bleeding by your own shame. 

That pain is nothing in the wake of the familiar figure of a towering form.

He meets her halfway, hulking mass climbing out from the cab of a blackened range rover at the first sign of her obvious distress. From this far away you can only make out the sounds of heaving sobs, watch as dainty hands clutch the dark material of her protector, the furrow of his brow as he searches for answers to her suffering.

Whatever she responds, you find yourself once more snapped in place by the weight of his stare, looking no less worse for wear than the first time he did. 

Logic says the phantom tartness on your tongue is a hallucination ingrained from previous exposure, but the inner omega whining helplessly to be understood doesn’t comprehend the self inflicted wounds she scores with brittle claws at the first chance to taste. In many ways, designative instincts retain the innocence of youth: purely reactionary in their naive disregard. They’re doe-eyed five year olds holding up the mangled body of a broken baby bird and proclaiming ‘they can fix it’. To them, they don’t realize the damage that comes with wishing for a bite of lemon zest when they know that cupcake is theirs, deaf to the scolding of a parent who knows better. 

After all, what gives you the right to take what hasn’t been offered? For wishing for the comfort of an alpha’s scent that doesn’t belong to you? All it does is make you feel like the shameful thief the people in the shop think you are.

So you keep your distance from the alpha and his mate, once more stuck in a whirlwind of unintentional trouble. He’s too far away to make out the hues of his eyes, but his body language tells you exactly where he stands in all this. Fingers flexed in a possessive grip, the placement of his hand curled around her mid back, the subtle hunch he takes as he tucks her tearstained face beneath his covered chin.

A choice. 

Conceal. Protect. Intruder.

You once wondered at the outcome if you hadn’t run that night; if the call that beckoned you ‘wait’ had kept you rooted to the floor. How would this mammoth have reacted - the one who only watched in pure neutrality as your world crumbled apart? Would he have let his friend make the first move forward? Would there have been an altercation? Spoken words and awkward introductions such as with their Scottish brethren? Did they care about your cowardice? Did the alphas give you chase? Lose your scent in the produce aisle and catch their breaths in the crisp night air? 

At last you have your answer. 

The judgment he passes as he turns his back to you has far more gravitas than the mopey donkey on your fridge. The conjured images of morbidity that entertained you earlier this morning feels like a holiday in comparison to the way your arteries shrivel from necrosis; down another size and a half by Grinch standards.

(Would it ever grow again?)

Closing your eyes against the sight is all you can do to maintain your sanity.

“Lass!”

As if life hasn’t finished causing you torment enough, the rough brogue catching your ears has your eyes peeling back open, the depression gluttoning away at your insides taking note at the promise of further feast, cackling gleefully at the tousled mohawk rounding the the opposite side of the vehicle his companions are approaching. Concern sits heavy on his brow, footsteps sure of their path as the pair sidle up along the drivers side of their SUV, lemon shuffling his omega through the open door he holds and into the relative safety of the back seat. You expect John to join them – to fuss and coo over her the same way he did for you in the cafe. Your masochism soaks up the envy like a yorkshire pudding at Christmas dinner.

But he makes no move to join his mate, blazing a path that leads beyond.

It’s not her he’s calling out for. It’s you.

Something smothers in your chest at the meaty glove that yanks him backwards, the heft of his brawn outmatched by the iron grip stopping him from advancing any further, shoved back against the shiny black of the range rover. The suspension creaks from the sheer force of the impact, giving you a hint as to the momentum which was suddenly reversed and applied to the hull, vehicle tilting a few centimeters off its wheelbase before thudding back down to settle on its chassis.

Charged static fills the air as overwhelmingly as the growl ripped from their chest – from which alpha you aren’t sure. The palpable anger that must be flaring in their scent chokes those unfortunate few nearby into hurrying along, a group of teenagers giving wide berth as the old man a few cars over shoves something fragile into the boot with a telltale crunch, slamming the latch shut before climbing over his center console to the steering wheel from the opposite side. No one wants to get involved in pack business, much less find themselves collateral damage in a showdown between behemoths. 

Where lemon’s mouth is obscured, John’s isn’t, giving you unfiltered access to the snarl he spits up at the man a few inches taller than him. He makes his displeasure clear in a volume still too quiet for you to grasp, but his argument is apparent in the gesturing of his arms, the wildness matched by the heart he so clearly wears on his sleeve. His packmate stands in complete opposition to the outward show of aggression by the former, striking in his marble-like appearance, firm against the blunted chisel of whatever’s being discussed. The only sign that he’s participating comes in the form of the other’s interrupted pauses. 

Your thoughts turn to the omega inside overhearing all of this. The discontent she must feel down the bond from those she loves most has to be just as painful as the ability to hear the quarreling itself. What must she be going through–huddled alone in the shadows by herself–having to listen to what you assume is an argument over another woman… one that a mate is clearly defending?

What consumes her more? Is it rage? Betrayal? Anguish? Abandonment? Jealousy? Your heart goes out to her at this moment in a way you’re not sure her packmates are knowing or even empathetic to. 

You suddenly flinch as if being struck by the accusatory finger pointed in your direction by the up-until-now stoic alpha, nose to nose with a man he’s spent nights pressed even closer against. Whatever point he makes, there’s no rebuttal from the Scot this time – only a strained moment’s silence.

At last John shoves away the arm holding him, straightening his jacket with a look that says this isn’t over as his companion walks away to the driver’s side door. You don’t pay him further mind though as John huffs out his anger like a bull, raking a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze with far more softness. He sees it in your eyes the same way it reflects in his. Two pained apologies spoken without words.

Dark tint keeps you from seeing them as they enter the vehicle and drive off, peeling away with a nod to the discomfort inside but with enough self control to not endanger the ‘precious cargo’ in the back seat.

You knew the other day was too good to be true. It’s clear now the damage you’ve incurred in your foolish desire to forge a connection. The lies John told you to placate his unthinking selfishness. Why the radio silence has been deafening your apartment. 

Nothing is alright. Everything is broken. You’ve ruined god knows how many years of passion and devotion by the sole act of your own pathetic existence. 

You’ve robbed her of that–robbed them. Another reminder that they cannot give it to you. She has taken your place. They cannot claim another.

It’s your fault. Your fault.

Your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault… 

You can’t breathe.

Something’s crawling up your throat. You can’t– 

As customers pass the threshold of the automatic glass doors, no one pays any mind to the sounds of retching in the dumpster.

<< ✿ Previous ✿ <<

[torturedlexdepartment]

Why Stop Now

JJ Maybank x fem reader

Author's note: so it's not 420 but I'm not waiting till April to repost this one 😅🤣 it's one of my fav JJ ones 🫠

Warnings: SMUT, smoke sesh, fingering, oral (fem and male receiving), overstimulation, squirting, high sex

Summary: you and your boyfriend celebrate his favorite holiday in the best way

April 20th was JJ’s favorite day of the year for obvious reasons. You loved the day too, always enjoying getting high with your boyfriend. This year he planned to take it over the top though, by not letting you leave his bed. You had been awake for no more than five whole minutes before JJ pulled out his stash of pot from his bedside table. You watched as he rolled a joint, almost mesmerized by his delicate work with his hands, fingers, and tongue.

High sex with JJ was the most euphoric thing you had ever experienced in your life. Everything about it felt better and intensified. His soft lips and the way they captured yours. His giant hands and the way they worshiped every square inch of your body. His delicate fingers and the way he curved them inside of you just right. His long and sinful tongue and the way he lapped at your core like you were his favorite treat. And his perfect cock and the way he never failed to make you fall to pieces with a handful of thrusts and loving praises.

JJ was also always hungry for high sex with you too, considering he found out how easy it was to make you squirt when you were on cloud nine. He loved to please you in any way he could, but making love to you with his mouth was his favorite. That man spends a considerable amount of time with his head in between your thighs and today would be no exception.

You both took your time passing the joint in between you. By the time there was only one hit worth left, you took it in between your lips inhaling deeply, and proceeded to brush your lips against JJ’s before exhaling the smoke in his face. He inhaled what he could while he patiently waited for you to put the bud out in the ashtray. The second you turned back to face him, you were being pushed down, your back becoming flush with the mattress. He hovered over you, his lips immediately dominated yours as needy whimpers danced out of your mouth and into his.

When he pushed his tongue past your lips, you teased him by sucking on it gently causing him to grind into your aching heat. The feeling of his hard clothed cock against you had you dripping down your thighs already. His hands dipped under your sleep shirt to squeeze your tits as you turned your attention to his neck. Nipping and sucking gently on his sensitive spot nearly turned him into a puddle on top of you.

He trailed his hand down your stomach painfully slow, almost in a tickling fashion before sliding it into the waistband of your pajama bottoms. He applied gentle pressure to your clit before starting to rub slow circles. You ripped your lips from his neck, dipping your head back into the pillow as you whined out in pleasure. He placed tender kisses to your jaw before dragging his lips down your neck. His loving mouth almost had you distracted until you felt his fingers dip down lower to probe your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet for me. Just like a good girl should be.” He mewed before slipping a finger inside of you. He continued to kiss your neck while pumping his finger slowly in and out. He knew that taking things slowly drove you crazy. You tried hard to be patient but you felt like your entire body was on fire.

“Baby, please.” He loved making you needy and hearing you beg. He added another finger and the sound you made had his cock twitching in his boxers. He made you squirm for a little while as he continued to attack your neck before finally curling his fingers upward. It was never an issue for him to find that sweet spongy spot inside of you the second he intended to. He felt your walls start to spasm as they grew tighter around him.

“That’s it, princess.” You dug your fingernails into the back of his shoulder blades as you came down from your first orgasm. He pulled his fingers out of you and quickly popped them into his mouth, savoring the taste of you. You grabbed him by the back of his neck, smashing your lips to his. You shoved your tongue into his mouth, demanding he share any remains of your sweet nectar. You moaned into the kiss and he pulled back, helping you sit up to remove your top.

Once your chest was bare for him, he took your nipples into his mouth sucking on each one before biting down gently. Then he sponged kisses down your stomach before hooking his fingers in the hem of your shorts and tugging them down your legs. He admired the huge wet spot on your panties before ripping those off too and tossing them across the room.

He started out by lapping up the juices that seeped out of your pussy, determined to clean you up. Your back was already threatening to arch off the bed before he started rubbing your clit, looking up at you with a smirk on his face. He kissed the insides of your thighs before diving right in, dragging his tongue in and out of your weeping hole as you clung onto the sheets for a sense of stability. That familiar coil in your stomach was winding up fast as you sat up your forearms to watch him work wonders on your pussy. You tangled your hand in his hair, forcing him further into you as your moans grew louder and more desperate. Hearing your heavenly noises had him groaning into your heat and the vibrations were all it took for you to reach another peak, coating his face in your slick this time. You knew he would continue stimulating you, to help you ride out your high but once you came down he refused to stop. He replaced his tongue with his fingers and started sucking on your clit. Your toes started to curl from the overstimulation.

“JJ.” You whined as you tried to push his face away. He slapped your hands away and gripped your hips tightly, keeping you from squirming away. He was on a mission and you knew exactly what he was after. You accepted your fate, giving in to the overwhelming pleasure as he went back and forth between sucking on your sensitive bud and flicking it at a rapid pace. Your legs began to shake and you knew what was coming. You came undone again, this time completely squirting in his face.

“Fuck baby, you’re so hot. I love it when you do that for me.” He was all too pleased and overly eager to clean you up again as you fought to catch your breath. He was gentle with his movements, knowing how sensitive you were. He lapped up everything you had to give to him before trailing kisses back up your body.

You didn’t let him get too far before flipping over on top to straddle him, quickly grinding down onto his cock. He let out a low growl before bringing you back down to kiss him. His lips were starting to become more and more aggressive against yours and you felt yourself getting wet all over again. You pulled away, trailing kissing down his chest as you palmed him through his boxers. He didn’t even try to stop himself from bucking up into your hand. His patience was gone as he grew more desperate to be inside of you.

Your face finally became level with his hips and you slowly rid him of the only barrier he had left. You drooled at the sight of his swollen cock springing up to his stomach. You craved it, in many ways. You didn’t tease him as much as you wanted to. You know he needed you. You quickly hollowed out your cheeks and took him completely into your mouth. His cry of relief mixed with pleasure had you clenching around nothing as you worked to pump him in and out of your mouth.

“Shit I can’t do it, princess. I have to fuck you.” He pulled away from your mouth and grabbed you up so your pussy was level with his cock before helping you sink down on top of him. The stretch was always delicious but it was almost enough for you to fall off the edge again. JJ helped you roll your hips, the movement so slow it was teasing to you both.

“I love how you feel inside of me J.” You cooed, knowing he loved to be praised just as much as you did.

“Yeah?” He sat up and flipped you both over in one fluid motion. “My princess loves how good I fuck her doesn’t she?” He teased as he slowly started thrusting. You couldn’t find your voice. All you could do was nod your head as you lost yourself in the pleasure all over again. His thrusts were slow but deep. He kissed you passionately this time, making you weak in the knees. You tugged at his hair and that nearly sent him over his edge as he worked to increase his pace. Your nails raked all over his back as he hit your spot head-on with the tip of his cock. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, leaving kisses anywhere he could as he brought you both closer to your releases.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.” You chanted as you clenched hard around him, sucking him in even deeper as you came again.

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned as he spilled completely inside of you. Tears welled up in the corner of your eyes at all the overwhelming pleasure and emotion. JJ slowed his pace but wasn’t stopping and once again, the overstimulation had you squirming to try and get away from him.

“I can’t babe.” You pleaded and he pushed your hair back out of your face and leaned down to kiss your forehead sweetly.

“Give me one more baby, then I’ll let you rest okay?” You couldn’t help but give in to him as you always did. Even though he was fucking you as slow as possible, you quickly found yourself on the edge of another release. You squirted for him again and the feeling had him stuffing you full of his seed for a second time. You were more than relieved when he finally pulled out. You were so fucked out, that you found yourself drifting off to sleep pretty quickly.

He let you rest for a mere forty-five minutes before getting high again. He simply couldn’t help himself with the way you laid peacefully next to him. You weren’t surprised when you woke up with his head between your thighs. It was going to be a long and exhausting day.

[girlkisser13]

dating wally west would include

• he ADORES making you laugh. he just loves hearing the sound of your laughter.

• whenever he makes a joke he always looks at you to see your reaction.

• you always make sure that you are stocked up on food. but sometimes, you hide your favorite foods so that he doesn’t eat them.

• wally loves to take you on thrilling dates where he runs you to different cities or countries in a matter of seconds. a quick lunch in paris or a sunset view from the top of the himalayas becomes a regular thing.

• he will literally travel anywhere and get you something to make you feel happy.

• his boundless energy means he’s always up for adventures and activities. he keeps you on your toes, whether it’s impromptu dance parties or late-night ice cream runs.

• as someone with a high metabolism, wally is a big foodie. he loves trying out new restaurants, food trucks, and cuisines with you. he’s always hungry, so snack dates are a must.

• despite his playful nature, wally is fiercely protective of you. he’s always quick to jump into action if you’re in any danger, using his speed to ensure you’re safe.

• he loves to tease and joke around with you. his sense of humor keeps things light and fun, and he knows how to make you laugh, even on your worst days.

• despite his laid-back demeanor, wally is quite the romantic. he often surprises you with flowers, handwritten notes, and sweet gestures that show how much he cares.

• wally is deeply emotional (surprisingly) and cares deeply about the people he loves. he’s not afraid to show vulnerability with you, sharing his fears and hopes.

• this man is CLINGY. he literally tries to climb and cling to you like a monkey, even if you are smaller than him (not that you’re complaining though).

• if you’re shorter than him, he places all of your things on higher shelves just so that you have to ask him for help, receiving lots of forehead kisses and giving him lots of cheek kisses mainly on your tiptoes.

• if you’re taller than him, him getting pouty if you put his things higher up, him having more reasons to be clingy and "surprising" you by jumping on your back for piggybacks.

• wally enjoys keeping fit and loves to include you in his training sessions. he’ll tailor workouts to your level, and you two often end up having fun races or friendly competitions.

• wally's a book nerd. he speed reads every single book he reads. he loves sharing his favorite books with you and will read them out loud at super-speed, making sure you both can enjoy stories together quickly.

• he has a knack for fixing things at lightning speed. he loves doing diy projects around the house with you, whether it’s building new furniture, fixing broken items, or redecorating.

• he’s a HUGE fan of movie marathons. given his super-speed, he can watch an entire season of a show in a few hours, but he’s more than happy to slow down and binge-watch your favorite series or movie franchise with you.

• you guys constantly engage in competitions, whether it’s video games, sports, or even who can eat the most. he loves the friendly rivalry and always lets you win sometimes.

• wally loves holidays and goes all out for celebrations. he’ll decorate, cook, and plan activities to make each holiday special, whether it’s halloween, christmas, or even lesser known holidays.

• his love for science often translates into fun experiments at home. he enjoys sharing his knowledge with you and conducting safe, fun experiments that sometimes lead to hilarious or fascinating results.

• wally’s ability to travel anywhere in seconds means you two create incredible memories from all around the world. You’ll have countless stories and souvenirs from the various places you’ve visited together.

• he loves to sing along to music. he often ropes you into singing duets with him. it doesn’t matter if you’re a great singer or not; the fun and joy of singing together is what counts.

• despite his love for food, wally isn’t the best cook. you two often have hilarious cooking sessions where you try to follow recipes, sometimes with comically disastrous results, but always with lots of laughter.

• he LOVES surprising you with spontaneous dates. one moment you’re at home, and the next, you’re at a concert, a carnival, or a beautiful scenic spot. his creativity keeps your relationship exciting and unpredictable.

• need to get somewhere in a hurry? wally’s got you covered. whether you’re running late for work or need a quick ride to a friend’s place, wally is always ready to zoom you to your destination.

• he’s your own personal chauffeur. <33

[phoneuserhana333]

.°˖✧ neighbor!doctor!abby / neighbor!producer!reader nsfw headcanons .°˖✧

tags: enemies to lovers, dom!abby, emotional sex, loser!abby tbh, perv!abby, voyerism, overstimulation, fingering (reader receiving).

PART1 — PART2 — PART3 — N(SFW)HC

• before you two even started dating, abby thought you were hot. too friendly, annoying and a menace, but hot.

• she spent countless bedtimes with her hand down her pajama pants, panting your name into the cold new york night. and when her release arrived, she would feel embarrassed, but that wouldn’t stop her from hugging her pillow and imagining it was you.

• you could say that abby was suffering from a severe case of i-can-fix-heritis. and you were the reason.

• one day, abby came back from work later than usual. her eyes, which instinctively lingered on your windows (she liked to know if you were home or if she had a few hours of peace and quiet), caught a glimpse of something interesting

• you. completely undressed, in the smallest pair of see through red underwear, semi-hidden by curtains. abby froze, her darkened eyes not leaving your body. it took her a second to realize that you were dancing, perhaps getting ready?

• her eyes tore away from your hips and found your breasts; one gently cupped by your hand as you fixed your hair and looked around your room. she stared at your nipples and god- why were they hard?!

• abby’s wakeup call was when you reached down for something, ass facing the window which revealed a rounded outline of your pussy lips. but what really caught her eye was a tiny wet patch, darkening the red fabric.

• it’s safe to say that abby ran inside, eager to shove her fingers into her cunt and thrust trust thrust as quickly as she could handle until she felt the heel of her palm bump her clit. why the fuck were you wet?!

• abby couldn’t look at you in the eyes for the next week.

• a few weeks after this incident, was the first time you fucked. december rolled around and most of your friends were celebrating the holidays, leaving you alone in the city, playing loud ballads all day to drown your sadness and the seasonal loneliness.

• abby came back from work late, noticing the lights were on and the music was loud. but when she noticed the lack of voices in your home, a feeling that something was wrong came over her.

• she couldn’t help but walk up to your door and knock.

• she was greeted by an equally tired, tear stained face. you turned the music down, apologizing quietly and trying to shut the door, which abby stopped with her palm.

“wait- do you… wanna come over? it’s christmas…”

“… to do what abby? we don’t really like each other.”

“we’ll figure it out.”

• and so you found yourself inside your enemy/hot neighbor’s home with a small overnight bag. abby made dinner, you opened a bottle of champagne.

• it felt… nice. domestic even. it made you emotional all over again. one and a half movie later, you felt tears stream down your face, and you unexpectedly hugged abby.

• this was the first time you two touched each other, and it set abby ablaze. you were soft and you smelled nice, your chest was pressed against her and the small of your back was perfect for holding on while-

“hey, um. thanks for inviting me over. i had a really shitty day.”

• abby nodded, pressed you closer and shushed your cries. she pondered, would she ruin the moment if she asked- was it too soon?

“i can make it better, if you want?”

• and so you ended up whimpering on her couch, legs pushed up into a mating press, with abby’s burning hot mouth on your clit, and two deliciously thick fingers pulsing against the most sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had.

“c’mon baby, thaaaat’s it. such a good girl when you wanna be”

• abby moved up to kiss you, shushing your whimpers and moans as her fingers still worked you open, now rougher than before.

“sound so pretty, sweetheart- fuck”

• in that moment, abby appreciated how angelic your voice was; she always thought you were a good singer, but you moaning her name desperately solidified that. she connected your foreheads, glancing down at your needy pussy as she sped up her pace, causing your back to arch.

“you wanna be good and cum for me, hm? you wanna be good for abby?”

• and with that you were sent over the edge, trembling legs closing involuntarily, only to be pushed open by abby’s firm hand- she wanted to see your pussy spasm around her fingers. her icy gaze was glued to your body, you were so tight when you came that it made her feel dizzy. her pace slowed down and she felt your body relax, pussy still twitching around her fingers. her eyes searched yours to see if you were okay, making you feel strangely fuzzy.

• just when you were about to grab abby’s arm and pull her down to meet your lips for a kiss, you felt her pace start up again, fast as ever, leaving you a wide-eyed choked up moaning mess. you were too sensitive and abby was smirking, one hand holding your legs open and while the other fucked you into overstimulation, thumb finding your puffy clit.

“not done with you yet. gotta pay me back for being a bad neighbor, don’t you princess?”

• abigail anderson whispers against your lips, kissing your moans away as she continued to finger fuck you. christmas isn’t bad at all, you think.

[himegureisu]

Severus Snape Headcanons

Warnings: 18+ suggestive content

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In a relationship

• Your book selection intrigued him when you first met at Flourish and Blotts. Advanced yet rare material on transfiguration, charms, potions, and herbology. He'd try to find reasons to owl to you about them until you both sought each other out.

• You don't hold hands. No, you link arms.

• He doesn't like to kiss you in public. Instead, he'll kiss the back of your hand in reverence. You were his queen.

•You'd try to drag him out of the castle to do anything fun (that isn't intimidating students). The man doesn't catch a break.

• He often feels like he doesn't deserve you. You always tell him: I'm the one who gets to decide and I choose you. I'm yours. You're stuck with me.

• He spoils you but doesn't understand when you do the same to him.

•He didn't like celebrating birthdays, holidays, or anniversaries. That's until you came along. A cozy dinner for his birthday the first year you were together. His favorite cake and favorite person. You asked if he'd invite Minerva and Albus for a bit. He vehemently said no. You laughed. Instead, he thoroughly ravished you as one of his birthday presents and thought that this was his second chance at love.

• In Hogsmeade when he is jealous, he quietly comes up behind you. You briefly introduce him as your significant other and they go after. They find him very intimidating. Tall. Dark. Just standing behind you glaring. With you none the wiser.

Married Severus and You

• He likes waking up before you. Just to admire you without the stresses of the day. Sometimes it's cute and sometimes it's downright creepy.

•He absolutely loathes to leave you asleep when he must watch the students on Hogsmeade weekends.

• When you manage to get up before him, he sleepily mumbles "Come back to bed, darling," You could never say no to that.

• He loves the occasional shower with you. And your magic fingers that massage his scalp. That and the fact that he can pin you up against the wall after to show his appreciation.

• He loves to cook for you. In turn, you clean. You constantly thank him for it because your sorry ass might just burn the castle down to the ground.