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ariestrxsh · 9 days

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⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, innocence corruption, eating pussy, fingering, use of vibrator, praise, almost getting caught

📝 author's note: 📝 this is part two of show me how. sorry it took me a month to put it out. here is part one. 💖 thank you and enjoy.

✍️ Summary: ✍️ After confiding in Matt, your best friend, about the weird sensation you've been feeling down there, he buys you something to help with it for your birthday.

show me how part two

A few weeks had passed after your best friend Matt had shown you how to touch yourself, and ever since, it had become a nightly ritual. You'd lie awake in your bed in the dark, your fingers exploring yourself the way Matt had taught you while you bit down on the sleeve of your sweater, desperately trying to keep your new favorite activity a secret.

Every time you rubbed your clit in slow circles, your mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of Matt, his smile, his eyes, his fingers.. And he was such a good teacher. You secretly wanted him to teach you even more about your body, but you couldn't find a way to slip it into casual conversation.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Matt asked you one day while the two of you were having lunch together. You looked up at him with your big, innocent eyes and nibbled on your bottom lip. "I know what I want, but I'm too nervous to say," you replied hesitantly.

"Come here. Come sit on my lap and whisper it in my ear, princess. You don't ever have to be nervous around me," Matt cooed, reaching for you. You sat on his knee and leaned in, "I want you to teach me more ways to make myself feel good," you told him quietly. "I love the way my fingers feel, but I just need a little more," your soft voice lingered in his ear while he delighted in your request.

"Of course. Anything for you," he smirked at you, blood rushing to the tip of his cock. It took everything in him not to tear your cute little dress off and fuck you right there. He knew exactly what he was getting you for your birthday after that conversation.

When your special day rolled around, Matt showed up at your doorstep with a nicely-wrapped gift with a pretty, pink bow on it and a card attached. "Oh, hi, Matt," you smiled, surprised to see him an hour before your birthday festivities were to start. You had decided to keep it casual this year, just celebrating with a few close friends and family members, eating cake and opening presents. "My mom won't be back with the cake for another hour."

"That's okay, princess. I came over early on purpose so I could give you my gift. I want you to open it now before anyone gets here," Matt smiled at you, offering you the pink box with little hearts on it. "Thank you, Matt," you smiled, taking it from him, admiring how much time and effort he put into making it look as nice as it did.

"Let's go to your room and open it there, princess," Matt suggested, motioning down the hall with his eyes. You naively led him into your room where you sat on your bed, and he stood over you, admiring your simple, white dress.

"For the sweetest, most beautiful girl I know. I hope this gift helps you fulfill every urge you'll ever have, and may you look damn good while doing it. Love, Matt," the attached card read.

You carefully pulled the tape from the wrapping paper, not wanting to damage something Matt had put so much care into, and when you opened the box underneath the paper, the first thing your eyes landed on was a really pretty lingerie set. You held it up and admired the craftsmanship. It was beautiful.

"Put it on, princess," Matt suggested, already having imagined you in it a dozen times. You blushed as you removed all your clothing and replaced it with the lingerie Matt had bought you. You felt so pretty with the way Matt ogled you while you stood in front of him in the pink and white lace.

"Wow, look at you. Give me a little spin," Matt whispered, biting his lip while his erection fought against his corduroy pants. You twirled around while he admired you from all angles. "You look so good that I could eat you," Matt ran his tongue over his lips while he admired your beauty.

"Eat me?" You laughed, scrunching your nose in that way that Matt always thought was so adorable. "May I?" Matt requested, his eyes dancing all over your body. "I'm not sure I know what you mean by that," you tilted your head and looked at him inquisitively.

"Not literally," Matt chuckled at your innocence. "Come here, baby girl. I'll show you what I mean," Matt responded, grabbing you by the waist and steering you into your bed. He laid you down on your back and looked passionatley into your eyes while he softly smoothed out a few stray hairs on your head.

"So beautiful," he whispered before leaning down and grazing your soft, wet lips with his own. The kiss was slow and sensual, and it felt magical sharing such an intimate moment with your best friend that you trusted so deeply. You parted your lips, giving admission to his tongue that gently explored the inside of your mouth. His hands cupped your sweet face while the wet sounds of your lips smacking against one another filled the air.

Matt nuzzled into your neck, and you let out a cute sigh as he located a sweet spot and began kissing it and running his delicate tongue over it. He handled you with the gentleness of a bee landing on a flower, and all he could think about was getting a taste of your sweet nectar, but he didn't dare rush the process.

He slowly pulled back the strap of the bra he'd given that fit you so perfectly until your breast was exposed. He tenderly took your nipple into his warm mouth, fluttering his tongue over the little bud as it stiffened from the stimulation. "Oh," you let a soft whine slip past your lips. He pulled down the other strap, repeating the process on the other side.

You never knew there were so many nerve endings there until Matt was softly licking and sucking on your nipples while his hands enveloped your breasts. He gently grabbed both, pushed them together, and started shaking his head from side to side with his tongue out, stimulating them both at the same time. You felt a warm, wet sensation forming between your legs as Matt treated you so nicely.

He started planting a trail of kisses down your tummy while he lowered himself between your legs. He kissed that spot of flesh where your inner thighs meet your pussy, and you squealed and squirmed beneath him. "That tickles!" You giggled. He looked up at you and smiled at how cute you looked.

"So, when someone tells you they wanna eat you, what they mean is, they wanna kiss you right here," Matt muttered pushing the pretty panties he bought you to the side and tenderly running his finger up and down your intricate folds. "Why would you wanna kiss me right there?" You skeptically asked, but you secretly desired to have him show you the appeal.

"Because I love everything about it. I love the way it tastes, the way girls wiggle around and whimper while I do it, the way they shake and tremble while they finish on my tongue," he whispered. Just feeling his breath on your heat while he spoke to you, you could understand while girls would behave that way when Matt would eat them.

"Want me to eat you, princess? Wanna know what it feels like?" He asked, spreading your pussy open with his fingers and watching the way you were clenching around nothing. You bit your lip and nodded at him. "I can tell how bad you want it by how wet you got when I told you what I liked about it," he mischeviously grinned at you.

"Please eat me, Matt," you softly whined. The anticipation was killing you. "Of course, princess," he cooed, his face inching closer to your sex. You let out a sigh of relief as he engulfed your sensitive bud, twirling his tongue in circles the same way you liked to rub yourself when you were in bed all alone.

He savored the sugary and salty taste of your pretty pussy like you were his dessert and he was overcome by a sweet tooth. His hunger for you was insatiable and his thirst for you, unquenchable. He took more of your vulva into his mouth as he feasted upon your delicious flavor, still exploring you slowly and softly.

However, his approach became more sensual and passionate, creating more pressure with his tongue while he licked and sucked on your clit. "Oh, Matt," you whimpered, grabbing a hold of your pink comforter as the feeling intensified. The anticipation welled in your core, building and building while you threw your head back in sheer ecstacy.

Your legs began to shake, and you started writhing around as Matt spread you open, tantalizing your most sensitive spot with his curious tongue. "Mmmm," he groaned against your pussy, the vibrations reverberating through you and tilting you over the edge. "Matt!" You called out, clenching your thighs around his ears while he peered up at your expression, your climax overtaking you.

You gave into the feeling, allowing it to take its course, radiating pleasure through you. Your toes started to curl, your knuckles lost color from how tightly you were gripping the sheets, and a ringing echoed in your ears. Matt relished in the way you crushed his head between your legs, the way you shivered your way through the peak, and the way you finished on his tongue.

Once you came down from your orgasm, you peered down at Matt wide-eyed, breathless, and pink in the face, and you whispered, "that was the most intense one yet." He grinned up at you, wiping his chin and chuckling. "You like it?" Matt asked, already knowing your answer. "Best birthday gift ever," you responded, slowing down your breathing.

"That actually wasn't part of your present. I just got a little carried away. There's another gift in there for you, princess," he handed you the gift box he brought over. You sat up and poked around the glittery tissue paper in the box until you came across a little black bag.

You reached into it and pulled out a small pink cylindrical item. You looked up at Matt in confusion, unsure as to what you were holding. "Push the button," he urged you. There was a silver circle on the side, and as you held it down, the toy started buzzing between your fingers. "Do you know what it's for, sweetheart?" He asked you softly, and you shook your head no, studying the foreign object.

"Lay back. I'm gonna show you." You handed Matt the vibrating bullet in your hand, and you let your head fall back onto your soft pillow. You let out a surprised gasp as he took the toy and rested it over your panties. "This is called a vibrator. You know how good you've been making yourself feel with your fingers?" He asked, starting to move the cute lace panties he bought you to the side once more.

You bit your lip and nodded, following what he was doing with your eyes. "Some girls like using this even better," Matt intently fixed his gaze on you as he made direct contact with your clit with your new toy. "Oh," you moaned in shock at how powerful the vibrations felt against your concentrated bundle of nerves.

You were highly sensitive from having just cum, but it didn't take long until it started to feel good again. The soft buzz of the vibrator and the erotic noises that passed through your lips were like music to Matt's ears. Your facial expression was overcome by pleasure. You relaxed your jaw, tightened your brow muscles, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

"How's it feel?" Matt inquired, watching your reaction to your new gift. "So much better than my fingers," you lustfully sighed in response. Matt loved the sweet sounds you were making, but what he really wanted was to make you scream his name again, so he lined up his middle finger with your entrance, and it slid in easily.

Your moans became more urgent, more frequent, and more enthusiastic as he entered his ring finger as well and started to pump them back and forth at the pace you liked. "Matt," you softly whimpered. "Like the way it feels, pretty girl?" Matt tenderly asked, looking up at the way you reacted to the way he played with you. "I love it," you squealed, amazed by how heavenly it felt.

"I got you the extra quiet toy, so you can use it whenever you want," he smirked up at you, knowing this would most likely become the new focus of your nightly routine. "Oh, Matt. You're so thoughtful," you cried out. "Princess, your pussy is the wettest I've ever seen it," Matt pointed out in a seductive tone, while you drooled onto his fingers that were pumping in and out of your special place.

Matt couldn't get enough, his hard on throbbing at the way you were basking in the satisfaction he brought you. He felt you start to rhythmically clench around his fingers as your body convulsed under his touch. "That's it, pretty girl. Cum on my fingers," Matt said softly, unable to pull his eyes away from the beautiful scene that unfolded before him.

He held the vibrator in place and continued penetrating you with his digits while your second orgasm was drawn out of you. "Oh, Matt!" You cried out as you bucked your hips, riding his fingers until you were fully immersed in pleasure. "Happy birthday, princess," Matt whispered as you reached the finish line.

"Honey, I'm home with the cake! Some of your friends are here!" Your mom shouted to you from downstairs after walking in the front door.

part three posted here 💖

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housetargaryenloyalist · 2 months

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Oh So Sweet

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Summary: Although married off at age three and ten and sent away from Kings Landing, you never forgot your first love.

Word count: 2.7K

Content warnings: Bad parenting? Some self doubt and sadness, and also fluffy flufness.

Little author's note/disclaimer: (feel free to skip this)

I haven't written anything properly in years, which means I am very very very rusty. I essentially wrote this as bit of challenge to myself and I know it is not my greatest work, but I'm still proud of it.

So I hope you will like this! Feedback is welcomed and very appreciated <3

Happy reading!

Six years, that is how long you had been gone from King’s Landing and now you were back to celebrate Jacaerys Velaryon’s 20th name day. You had come as a representative from your husband’s house. He was currently indisposed due to some nasty fever and was too unwell to make the journey, and although you wouldn't admit it aloud you were all too happy to journey alone. Eager to see the man again whom you had loved since childhood.

Your husband was an insufferable swine four times your senior who had essentially trapped you in his estate after your marriage. Not allowing you to leave unless he were to breathe down your neck, it infuriated you.

However this specific name day celebration invitation had urged you specifically to attend, therefore you could not refuse or you would risk the fury of the royal household. Their fury was not one you wished to invoke.

Although it had been six years it felt as though little had changed in the Red Keep, much still looked the same. The same Targaryen heraldry hung the walls and decorated the castle, reminding you with every step you took to whom this place belonged. In case you forgot the dragons screeches outside. Years ago your father had been a member of Viserys I’s small council and had taken your mother and you with him to reside in the Red Keep.

It had allowed you to grow up with the royal children, and in that time you had grown partially fascinated with the eldest son of princess Rhaenyra. You had grown so close to him, the both of you were practically inseparable. Close in age and proximity, it was no wonder you were such good friends. He would take you to see Vermax and promise to take you flying to wherever you wanted to go. Every time he would train, he wanted you there and every time he won, he wanted you to be the first to congratulate him. You told him legends and stories of heroes and warriors of old.

On your tenth name day the two of you had snuck out of the party to the Godswood, it is there under the glowing moon you were discussing the future when Jacaerys had let something slip. “I want to marry you,” he had whispered in a soft voice, almost as if he hadn’t meant to speak it out loud. In response you took his hand in yours as you whispered back “I want that too.”

By the time you were three and ten your mother had discussed a potential engagement between your two houses with Rhaenyra, who hadn’t seemed opposed to it. However, this discussion between the two of them had angered your father. He didn’t want his only daughter to marry a, what in his eyes looked like, a “bastard”. It prompted him to marry you off as soon as possible.Not even two months later you were wed to some lord in the Reach far away from King's landing. It was a sad ceremony and it resulted in a sad marriage.

Early in the evening a knock at your door roused you from your sleep, the handmaidens from earlier had come back to help you get ready. They carried several boxes each revealing a different dress, in various different shades.

“What are these?” You asked as you examined the fabrics up close, they all looked to be of highest quality but you recognised none of them, they were not gowns you had taken with you.

“Courtesy from prince Jacaerys my lady,” one of the handmaidens replied, her answer leaving you shocked. Jacaerys bought you these gowns? Your heart fluttered at the thought and you couldn’t keep your smile at bay. You looked through the many options, there were dresses in shades of purple, pink, red, green.

There was even a gown in the signature black and red of the Targaryen’s, no doubt intentional from him. After a while you settled on one, the fabric feeling soft against your fingers and you had a feeling Jacaerys would be pleased with your choice.

“I choose this one.” You turned to your handmaidens, they nodded and helped you with undressing and then helped you put on the new gown. Afterwards you sat at your vanity as one of the handmaidens did your hair and the others put the other gowns back into their respective boxes. It didn’t take long before you were ready, your hair beautifully done and all the gowns put away, meaning it was now time to make your way to the throne room to join the others in the celebrations.

The throne room looked amazing, there were tables laid out with food and wine, a large chandelier illuminating the room alongside the various candle holders. Nobles from all over Westeros were gathered here today and were mingling amongst each other. You hadn’t seen a scene so grand since the wedding of prince Aegon to princess Helaena, and even then it had not been so grand. Your arrival was announced by a courtier and as you descended the stairs you looked to the Iron throne.

Rhaenyra Targaryen sat on the throne looking as regal as you remembered her, on her left stood Alicent Hightower with her three children. You were slightly surprised the four of them attended the celebrations especially after the usurpation attempt. Although it was a short lived attempt it was still a shock for the entire realm and you were relieved to see that they all seemed to be on decent terms with each other.

King-consort Daemon stood on the right side of the queen alongside his two daughters and his two youngest stepsons. You almost didn’t recognize Joffrey, he had been so very young when you last saw him, too young for him to remember. With a pang to your heart you made your way to where they served wine and asked for a cup.

The servant handed you your cup and as you were taking your first sip the crow dispersed, the servant who had just a few moments ago announced your arrival now announced the arrival of the guest of honour. “Prince Jacaerys Velaryon of House Velaryon and House Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne.” Your eyes immediately darted up to where he stood and as you laid your eyes upon him, your breath left you.

Jacaerys Velaryon stood in the entrance to the throne room dorning targaryen red and black, standing tall and proud. His brown curls framing his face and making him look all the more handsome. You watched him make his way through the crowd as applause followed, echoing in the large room. You felt your lungs constrict, he looked so handsome, he looked even better than how you had imagined him all these years.

It almost felt as though the Gods were taunting you. It felt unfair, so so unfair. You drank more of the wine, letting the alcohol flow through you in an effort to feel more at ease. However it had much the opposite effect.

The crown prince gave a short speech in which he thanked everyone for coming and wished everyone a pleasant evening. For a short moment you could have sworn your eyes locked but you could not be sure.

Soon the crowd made way for the crown prince and Baela Targaryen, who were going to be the first to dance as was custom. You knew it was illogical but a bitter part of you thought that it should have been you, you in his arms dancing and laughing. It should have been you standing by his side, touching his arm, caressing his face.

You drank more of your wine, before long your cup was empty and the dance had ended with applause from the attendees. The band started a new number as the prince and princess disappeared in the crowd, other dancers swarmed the floor and you felt it to be in your best interest to find some fresh air. No one was paying attention to you as you slipped through the doors, at least, that’s what you thought.

There was a small balcony not far from the throne room, it overlooked the water and the crashing waves hid any sound from the party. You leaned against the rails as you tried to hold back tears. All these years being locked away in an estate of a man you didn’t love, with no one to keep you company.

Just for you to return to where you had longed to be and feel equally out of place. It hurt, it hurt a lot. The angry waves crashing against the shore mimicked your own frustration, you were so engrossed in watching the waves and their endless assault against the shore, you did not hear the footsteps approaching.

“I hope you’re not planning on jumping.”

You turned around faster than light could reach earth, the voice sounded so familiar yet deeper and more mature. Your breath caught in your throat

“Jace?” You whispered to the man in front of you, convinced you were dreaming. He looked even more magnificent up close, full lips and strong brows and fair skin. Jacaerys smiled at you before stepping closer. “Yes Y/n,” his hand reached out to touch your cheek and you instinctively leaned into the touch, closing your eyes. “It’s me.”

His hand wiped away the tear that escaped your eye, and as you opened your eyes again he stood so much closer. “I missed you,” you spoke as he stepped closer. “I missed you too.” His arms encircled you and you were pulled in a strong embrace “I missed you so much.”

He buried his face in your hair as he cradled you against his frame. You stood there for a while, clinging to him as though he were to disappear if you let go. The waves continued to crash against the shore, the nobles continued dancing and the music kept playing, regardless of everything at that moment it felt as though time stood still, just for the two of you.

However, you knew this wasn’t appropriate. If anyone saw you two, it would damage both your reputations, yours more than his. You retreated your hand and put it on his chest, intent on pushing him away, although you knew it would be futile.

It was you who pulled away first, although you couldn't go far. Jacaerys’ training paid off because you could not escape his arms even if you had earnestly tried. You looked into his eyes, now it was your turn to cradle his face. He turned his face slightly sideways before planting a soft kiss to your palm, a content smile gracing his face.

“We can’t Jace.” His eyes opened as pressed you closer to him. “Why not?” “It’s improper.” He laughed in response. “Why?” You slapped his chest softly in jest, and looked at him. “Because I’m married, Jace, so we really really shouldn’t continue.” Instead of pulling away as well, he cupped your face and lowered his own face so he could look deep into your eyes.

“I don’t care,” was all he said before his lips met yours. It felt odd to be finally kissing the man you had pined after for so long, it felt like a gift from the heavens, and it was gift you were going to cherish forevermore.

He left your lips briefly to whisper something only for you to hear, “I love you.” Before you could respond, his lips went back to yours and his hands cradled your face to prevent you from leaving. The kiss was sweet, sweeter than anything on this earth. Sweeter than the cakes in the banquet hall, sweeter than any fruit you had ever tasted. It was so sweet, you knew you would be addicted before long.

His hands left your face and travelled down to your back, pulling you closer to him. The kiss felt heavenly, his lips soft against your own, it was like life was brought back into you. You kissed back with vigour, your hands reaching for his neck where they crossed over one another.

Jace was quick to deepen the kiss, tugging you closer to him as if he was planning on devouring you. Your heart was racing a mile per minute, and you couldn’t help but let your hands travel. On instinct they found their way into his soft, brown curls. A soft moan escaped him as you lightly tugged on the curls, at this you smiled. In response Jace gathered your skirts and hoisted you up so you were seated on the balcony, your legs crossed behind his back on instinct. His hands travelled up and down your sides, almost tugging at the fabric so hard it would rip.

You pushed against his chest when it felt as though you were going to pass out, you needed to breathe as did he. He parted to let you breathe, and he let his head fall to your forehead. A bright smile on his face as his chest fell up and down in quick succession, mirroring your own. It was he who broke the silence between the two of you after a few moments.

“Never leave again,” he whispered as he started trailing kisses from your cheeks to your neck, and as you opened your mouth to reply, he sucked on a specifically sensitive spot on your neck. A moan escaped your lips as a result and you could feel his smile widen against your skin. You giggled softly, “I won’t.”

He continued to lavish your neck with kisses as he did so, you could hear loud footsteps approaching, and a variety voices talking over one another. If they passed by and saw you in this position with the heir to the throne, you didn’t want to think about what was to ensue.

“Jace-” your hands tugged on his hair, which resulted in a gorgeous moan escaping his beautiful lips -” Jace, we should stop,” you said, hand caressing the curls you had tugged on. He grumbled before raising his head, and you let your hands fall to his shoulders. “Why do you want to stop,” he asked, “did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head, “We’re too exposed, anyone could walk in on us.” You glanced to the hallway and now it seemed that Jacaerys heard the same voices that you had heard moments prior, however now they were growing ever closer. He helped you down from your position and straightened his tunic.

“We should continue this elsewhere.” At this you let out a giggle, “bold of you to assume we will continue.” The puppy eyes he threw at you in response were enough to make almost any person swoon and fall for his ploy, but you needed to remain strong. “Jace I’m serious, I am married, continuing this would be most unwise.”

He took your hand in his, and looked you in the eyes, “I promise you this." His thumb stroked over your knuckles as he continued, "I will have your marriage annulled. I will beg my mother to do it and then-” he placed your hands on his chest, ”then we can marry, as was always the plan.” You smiled at him and softly caressed his chest. “I would like that.”

The voices in the distance disappeared and emboldened you to give him a small peck. “I should return to my room now.” He nodded in return, “I shall escort you.” You shook your head with a smile. “You should entertain your guests. They will wonder where you are.” He sighed, because he knew you were right. “Very well then. I shall see you on the morrow.” You smiled and nodded before departing to your chambers.

Once at your chambers you noticed something sitting on your vanity, a small raven scroll. Upon closer inspection it appeared the letter was sealed with the crest of your husband’s house. You opened the scroll and dropped it as soon as you read its content. You followed to scroll in its descent on the floor, shocked breaths falling from your lips. The content from the scroll laid bare for all to see.

Dear lady Y/n

It is with great sadness that we inform you that your husband has succumbed to his fever, passing away in the late hours of yesterday eve. We pray for you well being and eagerly await your return.

With regards

Maester Tansen

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys targaryen #hotd jacaerys #prince jacaerys #jace velaryon #jace targaryen #hotd fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen

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artemis32 · 7 months

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Locksley

yandere Batfam x reader

yes, i do love them. yes, it is a problem. yes, i will make this my entire personality for the next two and a half months

also, necessary disclaimer, there’s a piece of dialogue in this that i took from a youtube asmr channel (bite me, they’re interesting and i’m starved of attention) - it’s jimち asmr, if you’re interested

word count - 4.8k

mbe masterlist

You wouldn’t call yourself a hero, not in any sense of the word. Likewise, you didn’t consider yourself a villain. You were something in between - you did bad things for good reasons, you did good things for bad reasons.

Living in Gotham changed people. No matter how kind or well-intentioned, everyone ended up corrupt sooner or later. Some just fell further from grace than others.

The people you helped would argue that you were a hero, someone who deserved recognition and respect for your actions. The people you stole from tended to disagree.

You didn’t care much about what you were. Heroes, villains… They were all the same in your eyes. They wrecked havoc and left people like you to deal with the aftermath - an ordinary citizen who had neither the means nor the aspirations to fix what they’d broken.

****

You started years ago, before you were even a teenager.

It was small things at first. Single fruits, a loaf of bread, a blanket, cough syrup. Things people wouldn’t usually notice.

You realised pretty soon that you were good at stealing, good at getting away without people noticing. Very good.

Stealing felt justified in your young mind. You told yourself that it was okay. It was okay because you weren’t stealing for yourself. Never for yourself. Never committing a crime for personal benefit.

No, you stole to help others. You did what you could to help those that were too weak or scared to help themselves.

In those early years, when you were still young and hopeful, you likened yourself to Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.

Now, years later, the sentiment had faded.

You still stole from the rich. You still gave everything you stole to the poor.

Poverty in Gotham was a disease. The densely populated apartment blocks in the Narrows, where you lived, housed more people than it should have, and those people had become somewhat of a family to you. Or at least as close as you’d ever get. So you did what you could to keep them safe and alive. Stealing food to keep them fed, stealing clothes and blankets to keep them warm, stealing medicine to keep them healthy, stealing toys to keep the children hopeful.

That was your job, your purpose in life.

It made you feel as though you had a use. Seeing how people’s faces brightened, how happy they looked to see you when you bought a spare blanket or some extra food, or a toy a hopeful child had been eyeing for a while, it made you feel as though your life wasn’t completely meaningless.

Your life had a purpose. And that purpose was to help those who couldn’t help themselves.

So you did.

And you never got caught. Not once.

Until you did.

****

This uniform is so fucking uncomfortable. How do these people do this all day? You think, slipping your index finger beneath the buttoned collar of your shirt, tugging at it in a lacklustre attempt to catch a breath.

As much as recon was necessary, it was also an annoyance most of the time. It was times like these that you thanked the stars above that you weren’t born into a wealthy family. Stuffy galas and boring board meetings were never your thing.

The crowd of wealthy tycoons and aristocrats barely paid the waitstaff a second thought, primping and preening as they mingled amongst one another, trying to impress people who were too self centred to notice them.

You would’ve rolled your eyes and gagged at the sight, had it not acted as the perfect cover for you.

Stealing the name tag and uniform off of the service roster was simple enough, and sneaking in through the service entrance of the disgustingly lavish manor was a breeze. Now, as you flit through the crowd of supercilious pricks, you feel grateful for your own nondescript appearance.

Blending in with the average service worker was a blessing, one you took full advantage of as you scanned the large ballroom. There were several large windows, massive panes of glass bordered with ornately carved ebony wood frames. The doors were just as grand, two sets of double doors, and a smaller service door in the very corner of the room, all dark stained ebony to match the windows, were just as detailed and lavish.

It made you sick.

How could these people live so wastefully? How could they live so easily? Their biggest worry was keeping their faces youthful and their houses fancy. It didn’t make sense. Even now, after months, years of doing this, it still confused you - the fact that you lived such a jarringly different life, one that seemed so pathetic in comparison to the vapid crowd that surrounded you.

At the very least, it eased your conscience, and made your job easier. You felt no pity, no remorse for stealing from people like those gathered around you. Very few of them had actually worked for what they had in life. No, it was handed to them at birth. Life was funny like that. Those who work hard are left impoverished, and those who give in to gluttony and greed never have to work a day in their lives for what they have.

You discarded the now empty serving tray behind a potted plant, slipping out the large double doors and into the empty corridor beyond. The halls were silent and dark, moonlight casting large shadows over the walls.

The manor’s antiquated runner rug muffled the sound of your footsteps as you crept along the wall of the corridor, carefully taking note of each door, drawing up a mental map as you continued.

Every corner you turned was more extravagant than the last. You could practically feel the wealth seeping out of the walls. It disgusted you.

At least it was nice to look at.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve made it up to the East Wing, the furthest part of the manor from the ballroom. It seems to be the personal quarters of whoever the hell owns this abomination of a house. On the trek up several flights of stairs, you’d passed a collection of bedrooms, several smaller living rooms, and,to your great delight, a study. Though, ‘study’ feels like the wrong word to describe the room.

It looks more like a grotesque mix of a library and a maze, and if you were any more wet behind the ears, you might’ve been intimidated by the sheer size of it. In fact, if you’d stumbled upon a room like this a few years ago, you’d have been in awe. The value of a single item in this room would have you set for life.

But you don’t allow yourself to be caught up in the moment, keeping steely focus as you move silently, swiftly between towering shelves. You don’t take anything. Not yet. The time for that would come later. Right now, you focus instead on gathering information. The layout of the manor, alarms, sensors, residents.

The last part was always the hardest, especially with people like the elite of Gotham city. People came and went as they pleased, and the odds of you running into someone was higher in extravagant homes like this, what with their abundance of butlers and maids. But you’d avoided them all up to this point, never once encountering anyone in more than a decade of prowling.

And this manor - the famous Wayne residence - never housed more than a dozen people on any given night. You knew the staff and groundskeepers all went home in the evening, leaving the property all but abandoned at night.

You reach the end of the room, pausing only to glance over at the large grandfather clock nestled between two shelves before you turn on your heel and stride back towards the door. You’d gotten what you came for. Now, it was time to take your leave, full mental map in tow.

Getting out of the gala was a lot easier than getting in, and you took the time to register the smaller details of the manor. In this time, you confirmed one thing you knew for certain:

Wayne manor disgusted you in all its excessive wealth.

Bruce Wayne may have appeared as some kind of well meaning philanthropist or humanitarian, but you knew his pockets ran deep. Much of his wealth, generational and unearned, was hoarded while the rest of Gotham was left to rot in poverty.

It was, in part, the reason that you didn’t feel bad about what you were doing. He, alongside the rest of Gotham’s elite, had done nothing to earn what they had. You were just levelling out the playing field, giving those in the Narrows a fair chance at life.

And if you had to dirty your hands to help them, then so be it.

****

The thick carpet muffles your landing, though you don’t really need it.

Over the years, you’d mastered your movements, learning how to move silently, without notice. It’d been born from necessity, rather than genuine desire. Growing up in the Narrows wasn’t good for much, but at least you learnt pretty quickly that it was easier to get by if you went unnoticed.

You gently close the window, pushing the polished wooden frame with your fingertips, wincing at the soft click of the lock. Any noise was too much.

The corridors are empty as you silently sweep through the manor, as expected. You aim for the lavish library you’d scoped out a week prior, mental checklist ready.

Avoiding the cameras and alarms is easy enough, especially when the majority of them scoped the perimeter, rather than the interior. The lack of security, combined with the excessive luxury confirmed what you’d always thought.

Rich people were fucking dumb.

They really thought their money could protect them from everything. Well, there was one thing that no amount of money could save them from.

People like you. People with absolutely nothing to lose.

You had no family, no prized possessions, no desire or greed. And you sure as hell didn’t harbour any fear for people like them.

Eventually, you arrive in the East Wing, slowing your stride slightly. You strain your ears for any hint of movement, blending seamlessly into the shadows as you prowl the corridor. The ornately carved solid wood door opens with a silent swoosh, and you slip into the room a mere moment later.

Someone’s here.

You take note of it a moment too late, slipping between two towering shelves the instant you hear the soft murmurs of a conversation. The lighting is dim, shadows dancing across the room, sourced from the crackling fireplace at the back of the study.

Fuck.

It takes you a beat longer than usual to calm your now racing heart, and the instant you get it under control, you’re back to creeping along the shadows, hands darting out to grab at ornaments and books, shoving them silently into every pocket and gap in your suit and small backpack.

If you could, you’d have brought a bigger bag, but you needed to travel light - light enough to make a swift exit if needed.

You manage to grab quite a few things without nearing the source of conversation, which you’ve now determined to be two men murmuring lowly near the fireplace. Relief settles heavy in your bones as you creep back towards the door, thankful for the numerous shelves hiding you from view.

Lady Luck was a fickle being, and it seemed she’d decided your time was up.

When you’re about ten steps away from the exit, senses on high alert, time seems to slow, the baroque handle dropping slowly as the door is pushed open. You’re back in the shadows before it fully opens, back pressed against the wall while you weigh your options.

The door is out of the question. There’s no way to slip out without being noticed. The window, maybe?

One glance at the tightly latched windows across the room dash that idea immediately.

Panic swirls up your spine, threatening to take over. If you got caught here, there’s no telling what would happen to you.

As you scramble to come up with a plan, the door swings open and a man steps into the room. He’s young, fresh-faced, perhaps a year or two younger than you. He’s handsome too, in the way aristocrats often were - light eyes, tanned skin, full lips. He was striking.

And he turned to look right at you.

You’re up, on top of the nearest shelf seconds before his eyes slide towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut, sweat slicked palms pressed flat against the dusty wooden shelf underneath you.

Fuck.

He lingers for a moment, taking a step closer into the shadows, to the spot you’d stood in moments ago.

There’s no way he knew. He couldn’t.

After several tense, painful seconds, his brow twitches and he turns on his heel, striding over to the other two men, his gait confident and swift. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing only a bit as you try to stop the nervous tremors in your hands.

Escape comes hours later, near three in the morning, when all three men eventually retire to their rooms. You couldn’t get out of that eerie, shadowed manor fast enough.

****

“You really should lock your door at night, especially in this area. You never know when some creep might think about inviting themselves in. Windows too, for that matter - or else B&E’s would just be… Well, E’s.”

It was barely two in the morning. You’d crawled into bed, still fully clothed, less than an hour ago, exhausted from a long day of work in the hellscape that was hospitality. You hadn’t even had the energy to look over your next few potential hits, never mind take a shower or have dinner.

So it’s no surprise that you’re disoriented, thrown off guard when you wake up to a masked man leaning far too casually against your derelict old couch, slim katana resting comfortably in his hand while he twirls it around.

“Then again,” he continues, ignoring the wide eyed look you give him. You flinch back, the movement too slight to notice as he straightens and strides over to you. “You’ve made my job easier. So I should thank you.”

He stands, hovering over you, arms hanging casually at his sides beneath his cloak as he regards you. The mask he wears hides his eyes, and it feels as though you’re staring up into dark, never-ending pits rather than eyes.

“Hm. You look different than what I expected. Younger. How old are you?”

If you weren’t so terrified, you might’ve laughed. Here, in your cramped, dingy bedsit, stood someone who appeared more demon than man, and he was presumptuous enough to critique your appearance. Worse still is the fact that you might’ve answered him, had he not swiftly changed topics.

“It doesn’t matter. A criminal is a criminal. Blackgate has a cell with your name on it.”

The train rumbles by and shakes the thin walls of your apartment, casting an eerie half glow bright enough to just barely light up your apartment.

Your blood runs cold.

Robin.

You’re moving before he has time to register what’s happening, tossing your worn knit blanket at his head as you leap from your bed, the small single’s frame groaning beneath you at the abrupt movement. You’re across the room when he recovers, hand on the doorknob. Seconds later, a vaguely bird-shaped dagger embeds itself into the doorframe right beside your hand.

“Don’t move.”

For once, despite the alarm bells blaring in your head, you listen. You fight against your instincts and the burning in your limbs as he approaches, closer and closer with every taunting step until he’s right in front of you, another stupid bird-shaped dagger nicking the soft underside of your jaw.

“You’re coming with me. Peacefully.”

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his tone. It’s so condescending, as if he thinks he’s talking to a child. If this was anyone else, you might’ve fought back, but of the list of people you avoided, the Gotham vigilantes associated with Batman were top of the list.

They were so irritatingly self-righteous, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d view you as a scum of the earth criminal, should they ever catch you. It was part of the reason you’d avoided them so religiously, and you’d done a great job of it up until this point. The only question on your mind right now, though, was-

“How?”

Robin tilts his head, mouth flat. “How what?”

You lift your chin a bit more as he raises his dagger, softly piercing the skin, as if in a warning.

“How did you find me?”

If you could see his eyes, you were sure they’d hold an incredulous look, as if to ask ‘are you stupid?’. But you weren’t. Not like this. You weren’t sloppy. And you sure as hell didn’t step on toes when you stole, especially not enough to gain the attention of a run of the mill vigilante. There was no reason for him to be standing here, in your apartment, all but pinning you to the door.

“How did you find me?” you insist, pushing forward despite the slight sting against your jaw. “What did you see?”

He sets his jaw, tilting his head down as he speaks through clenched teeth.

“Stealing from Bruce Wayne of all people was a dumb move.”

Your blood chills in your veins.

So someone did see me then… That man. That boy. Fuck.

“It was especially dumb to stick around for four hours afterwards.”

At that moment, you weigh your options.

If you go with him peacefully, all but turn yourself in, Blackgate would be the least of your worries. You stole from Bruce Wayne.

Wronging such an influential man would have its own set of unique consequences, and it wasn’t yourself you were worried about. Anyone you’d helped in the process would be incriminated. All those innocent people, the women and children, the elderly people who lived around you…

No. You couldn’t go with him.

Prison was one thing. Endangering those you swore to help was another entirely.

With your mind made up, everything else is easy.

You grab the wrought iron coat rack beside the door and swing it upwards, aiming for his head without a second thought. The moment he releases you and shoves you back, you’re out the door, sprinting down several flights of stairs.

Too slow. Faster. Move faster.

You hear him behind you, footsteps ringing out like a death knell.

He wants you to hear him. You know he does. A vigilante like that, someone as skilled as him - you wouldn’t hear him unless he wanted you too.

Honestly, you were quite proud of yourself. You’d made it further than you’d expected. The uneven gravel stings against your bare feet as you sprint through the side alley, aiming for the main street.

It was pointless. You knew it was. Even if you could make it that far, it wouldn’t amount to anything. No one would help you. No one could help you.

Regardless, you still feel disappointed when he grabs you by the collar of your thin, old sleepshirt, yanking you back. The exit to the alley, a mere two metres away, seems to mock you.

In that moment, you think about what you’d done. You truly think, and realise that you didn’t regret a single thing. You didn’t care about what happened to you. Everything you’d taken had helped so many people, far more than it would have helped Bruce Wayne, gathering dust in his old study.

Everyone had been so happy, so relieved at how much you’d managed to help them. The amount you’d received for the stolen goods had been enough to care for everyone in your building ten times over.

So no, you didn’t regret your decision.

This time, Robin doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries, gripping the back of your neck tightly and knocking you out a moment later.

****

“Who is she?”

“Her name is-”

“I know what her damn name is. I mean, who is she?”

Tim pauses, eyeing Damian with a strange expression, clearing his throat and continuing after throwing a perplexed glance at Bruce.

“...well, uh, she lives in the Narrows, has for more than a decade. She went to Gotham public high school and received her high school diploma, with no further education. She’s… pretty unremarkable, to be honest. Works in a shitty diner in the East End, earns less than minimum wage...” he trails off for a moment and shrugs. “There’s not much else to say.”

Damian clenches his jaw, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Her address. What is it?”

Again, Tim throws Bruce a glance, sharper this time, choosing his words wisely.

“I… don’t think that’s necessary information. It’s not a big deal, she only took a few things. And it doesn’t seem like she kept any of it. Actually, I’m kind of impressed–”

He’s cut off in an instant, Damian’s glare sharp and filled with rage.

“It does matter. She stole from us. She–”

The green-eyed youth sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his arms to his side, flexing his hands.

“...she was right there. She was inside the manor, ten steps away from me, and I didn’t fucking notice. It took us two weeks to notice she’d been here at all!”

His words are like venom, belying the real reason he’s so worked up, and Bruce watches him with a blank expression, stepping forward after he’s calmed down slightly, placing a heavy palm on his shoulder.

“I understand your frustrations, but you can’t allow them to cloud your judgement. Don’t allow your emotions to rule your actions. While I agree we should find her, I don’t think we need to be as… extreme as you’re suggesting. She’s just a civilian - albeit a very… efficient one. Take some time, calm down, and we’ll discuss what to do from there, okay?”

Damian shrugs the hand off his shoulder, stalking out of the Batcave with a few short, clipped words thrown over his shoulder.

“Yes, Father. Of course.”

****

A very frazzled looking man is the first thing you see when you come to, temple aching terribly where the angered Robin had decked you hours earlier. Presently, the man hovering over you sighs when he sees your eyes open, though it doesn’t seem to be a sound of relief. His mouth tugs down at the corners, brows pinching together.

“Don’t.”

He presses a palm to your shoulder, keeping you flat on your back when you try to sit up. His tone is stern, flat, accentuated by the dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders sag and he loosens his hold, fingers flexing against your shoulder.

“Just… stay there. Don’t move.”

The words seem more like a plea than a demand, but you listen regardless. Even if you wanted to move, the pain rippling through your skull makes you too dizzy to sit up, let alone stand.

“...do you remember anything?” he murmurs, bright blue eyes roaming your face worriedly.

Licking your dry, cracked lips, you avoid his gaze. Would it be better to lie, you wonder? Would he know? You had a feeling he might. And you had a feeling that somehow, being honest just this once would help you a lot more than lying ever could.

You swallow thickly, glancing back at him before answering.

“Yes.”

He rolls his eyes, head lolling forward as he mutters.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Before he can ask you another question, before you can say anything else, there’s a flurry of movement at the entrance to the room, several people storming in. The racket makes your head throb, and you feel faint and woozy as you lean back against the admittedly plump pillows.

You wonder distantly why you weren’t in a prison cell or a hospital. If you’d been in a better headspace and perhaps not concussed, you might’ve been concerned, but it was effort enough to focus on staying conscious at the moment.

“No, Damian! I have had enough! You explicitly went against my instructions– You kidnapped a civilian!”

Chancing a small peek at the arguing duo, you catch sight of little more than two blob-like shapes, the taller of the two yelling animatedly while the shorter stands stoically, staring off to the side, towards–

Towards you.

“She’s awake.”

That has the taller man falling silent for a moment. He sighs heavily, murmuring.

“We’ll discuss this later. For now, I have to deal with your mess.”

With that, he turns and strides over to you, placing his hand on the shoulder of the young man at your bedside, a silent dismissal. He remains standing while the other two leave, staring down at you expressionlessly.

Bruce Wayne.

Bruce fucking Wayne.

…I’m so dead.

You jolt up, wincing at the pounding in your head as you blurt out.

“Mr Wayne, I–”

He holds up a palm, silencing you.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

There’s a pause, one in which he looks down at you before sitting down with a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose for a moment.

“I don’t care that you stole from me. Usually, I'd just file a police report and go about my day, but my son… Well, you upset him.”

He leans back in his seat, unbuttoning his blazer.

“You see, he’s a prideful boy. It’s never caused problems before, at least, not like this. I mean, involving a civilian, that is. But you seem to have struck a nerve. He’s holding quite a bit of animosity towards you.”

Bruce leans forward again, elbows resting on his thighs as he regards you with a critical eye.

“And I’ll admit, you caught me too, to a degree. You broke into my home without my notice. You were right under my nose.” He huffs a disbelieving laugh, as if the very idea of you evading him was impossible. “It’s impressive, I won’t deny it.”

A strange flutter fills your chest, something that feels oddly akin to pride. Bruce Wayne of all people was complimenting you. Or, at least, it felt like a compliment.

“Why is he so upset?”

You regret the question the instant it leaves your mouth. His gaze, which had been slowly warming up, turns cold and flat at that.

“...because you slipped right by him. Do you understand what a feat that is? How much you’ve wounded his pride? For you, an untrained young woman from the slums of Gotham to have fooled him, a trained assassin. Robin. You understand, don’t you? He took it as a very personal offence.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. Was this some kind of twisted punishment for stealing? Did this man, Bruce Wayne, really expect you to believe that his son, the sweetheart of Gotham’s high society, was the Robin? And an assassin to boot?

He huffs a silent laugh, brows raising as he regards the expression on your face.

“Yes, yes, I know. It’s shocking. Damian Wayne, Robin? You’ll get used to it.”

Your hands are shaking now, sweaty and white knuckled as you clutch the bedsheets, and you feel your blood pressure rising. If you weren’t careful, you’d pass out soon. Swallowing thickly, you ask the question urgently gnawing at the forefront of your mind.

“If he’s Robin, then…?”

A small smile tugs at his lips. He was handsome, in an older gentleman kind of way - tall, strong, sturdy build. Even the wrinkles and lines marring his face looked attractive. No wonder women fell over themselves in an attempt to catch his attention.

“Yes. You catch on quickly, don’t you? Well, that’s to be expected from Gotham’s own do-good Robin Hood, I suppose. Yes, I am Batman.”

A choked noise dies out in your chest.

Of course I’d steal from Batman. Of everyone in Gotham, this is who I choose? God, why is my luck so shitty?

His admission sows a seed of unease in the pit of your stomach, and your eyes dart around the room for the first time since you’d arrived. It was large, larger than what you were used to, though the only furniture was the bed, a vanity, and a small couch near the window. The window that was locked tight, covered with solid iron burglar bars. Bars you had the sinking feeling were put there to keep you in.

You turn to him, eyes wide and pleading.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

He stands, posture straight and assertive as he eyes you callously. “Because, unfortunately, your actions, and my son’s impulsive decision have both pushed me to make a decision I have no choice in. It means that, until we decide what to do with you, you won’t be allowed to leave–”

Evidently, his admittance to essentially abducting you is what sends your blood pressure through the roof. You pass out before he finishes his sentence, praying with the last of your fading consciousness that this was all some twisted nightmare.

#yandere #dark content #female reader #dc #batman #robin hood #yandere batfam x reader #x reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne #tim drake #batfam #robin #red robin #dc robin #robin hood reader #batfam x reader

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iam93percentstardust · 1 year

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one of the things that i loved about barbie (2023) that i think a lot of the posts making fun of male-written reviews miss is that, though the movie presents itself as a commentary on the patriarchy and sexism, the message at the core of the film isn't actually limited to being about (cis) women. it's about anyone who is Other.

i went to go see the movie on thursday afternoon before all the big midnight premieres, and the theater was still packed. there wasn't an empty seat in the entire theater. i had a seat at the end of the row, which i had picked out in a faint (futile) hope that no one would sit next to me. thirty seconds before the trailers started, a family of about 10 black people walked in and split up, presumably because they'd only just bought their tickets and there were no longer 10 seats together. the dad and the son, who was maybe a few years younger than me in his early-20s, a good foot and a half taller than me, and who i recognized as one of the football players at the local university, ended up taking the two empty seats next to me with the linebacker in the seat right next to me. and that was pretty much the last time i thought of them until the last twenty minutes of the movie.

see, in the last twenty minutes of the movie, america ferrera makes an impassioned speech about not just the limitations that male-dominated society puts on women but the limitations that women put on themselves in order to survive in said male-dominated society. it's about the contradictions that we're subjected to--you can't be too much, but you can't be too little either. you have to lift each other up but you're also in constant competition with other women for the shredded dregs of respect that men have left over for us. you can't say yes to a man because then you're a whore but you can't say no because then you're a prude. it was passionate and bitter and furious and it had every woman in the theater, myself included, in tears.

and in the silence of the theater following america ferrera's plea for barbie not to make herself less just so that society isn't threatened by her, the linebacker sitting next to me said fervently, "i feel that."

it brought everything to a screeching halt. now i'm a white woman, and though i'm fat and nowhere near as gorgeous as margot robbie, from the very first trailer, it was obvious that this was going to be a movie for me. and if done right, it was going to be a movie for all women (and i would argue that it was). but the thing that it also did right was that though the surface of the message was about women making themselves lesser, the core was that it was for anyone who makes themselves lesser to fit in. yeah, it's for women who are trying to fit into a male-dominated society, but it's also for bipoc who are trying to fit into a white-dominated society. it's for trans people trying to fit into a cis-dominated society. it's for gay people trying to fit into a heterosexual-dominated society. it's for anyone who's been Othered and has to shrink themselves in a desperate attempt to survive.

i love the posts making fun of male-written reviews that are butthurt that this movie isn't for them just as much as the next person. but i think it's important that we don't forget that those are representative of the people in power, the people that could never understand this message. barbie is for me, yeah, but it isn't just for me. it's for my trans friend who is six feet tall and has a beard and wears pink dresses every single day because they make her feel pretty. it's for my labmate who could practically be a barbie herself and irritates me every time she talks about thinphobia but also can't find someone who wants to be with her because she's brilliant and not because she's beautiful.

it's for the black linebacker who sat next to me in the theater and felt heard when a fictional character in a movie told him not to make himself smaller just to fit society's standards.

#barbie #barbie spoilers #barbie 2023

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redroomreflections · 2 months

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Not Easily Broken Chapter 10

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

10/10

w/c: 6.4k

Note: So, this is it. The past three years have added up to this moment. It was so tough finishing this story but we made it. I'm always so nervous for y'all to read the final chapter since I don't want to disappoint the people aka you. But this is all in good fun and thanks for being along for the ride.

Enjoy =)

It’s early. Possibly too early in the morning for Natasha. You lie in bed next to her, peacefully asleep, as she opens her eyes for the first time that morning. She blinks, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering into the room. The familiar scent of the apartment envelops her, a comforting reminder of the life she's trying to rebuild. She takes a moment, lying still, listening to the gentle rhythm of your breathing beside her.

Slipping out of bed carefully, Natasha is mindful not to disturb you. The cool floor beneath her feet is a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed. She takes another glance at your bare form. She heads to the kitchen, your t-shirt draped over her, a small comfort in this new yet familiar setting. The apex of her thighs ache, a welcoming feeling after another night of lovemaking. She rolls her head around her shoulders, hoping to work out any kinks, as she pads further through the apartment. As she starts making coffee, Natasha's thoughts wander. This apartment, your apartment, feels both strange and right. It's not the home you shared before, but a new space where you're trying to rebuild what was lost. The past year of separation and the divorce have changed both of you. Now, with almost ten years of history and two children, things are different.

Natasha pours herself a cup of coffee, reflecting on the differences this time around. She wonders if this reconciliation is real if you both have truly changed and learned from the past. The divorce left its mark, but maybe it also gave you both the clarity you needed.

The coffee machine sputters and groans, as the smell fills the space. She goes through the motions of fixing herself a cup. Natasha leans against the kitchen counter, her eyes glued to the bedroom. Her hands cup the mug, relishing in the warmth that spreads throughout her hands. She uses her foot to scratch an indistinct spot on her leg. She sips at her drink, enjoying the rich aroma and flavor, the taste of the coffee warming her body. She thinks back to the early days of your relationship. How, once, you had made the coffee for her every day. Her mind gets stuck on things like that. Reminiscing. She doesn't dwell, though. That's something new. Instead, Natasha focuses on the here and now. The sound of your breathing in the other room, the taste of her coffee, the soft material of your shirt against her skin.

She tries not to think about the fact that when the two of you make love it's always here. For the past few weeks, it's always been here. Not in your marital home. Not in the bed you bought together. Not underneath the sheets that you picked out and that she'd never replaced. She tried to reason that it was for the sake of the kids. She wanted to reason that this was all for the both of you to get better without the questions and prying eyes of your children.

But she can't deny the real reason.

This apartment, the bed, the sheets. It doesn't have the history of the two of you. It doesn't know the whispered secrets, the heated exchanges, the faint scent of the other's perfume on its cool pillows. Not like her home. Your home. The one that, until a few weeks ago, hadn't been considered as such.

This place feels like a fresh start and a neutral ground. A way for the two of you to be together without any pretenses. Besides the first night she'd stayed here, the two of you don't discuss the divorce. You don't mention counseling even. Every other morning, Natasha would slip back into her clothes and return to the kids. Eventually, hours later, you would come knocking on the door and visit. You'd kiss her sweetly, gently, as if you hadn't fucked her brains out the very night before.

As if the past year didn't happen.

And for the first time in a long time, Natasha is okay with that.

Natasha doesn't want to think too deeply about it.

You've moved past the divorce, she's moved past the divorce. She hopes. She hears shuffling coming from the bedroom. Her senses are heightened as she anticipates you waking up but you don't.

Another noise disturbs her solitude. A knock at the door. That's a first. From what she's heard you don't usually get visitors.

She gently places her mug on the counter and walks over to the door. She stands on the tip of her toes to peer through the peephole. She doesn't recognize the person on the other side. She fixes her shirt and unlocks the door. She's met with someone of a similar height. A young girl who could be no more than fourteen. Her makeup is slightly heavy, a bit too mature for her age, but meticulously applied.

"Oh, hi," The girl rocks slightly on the tip of her toes. She glances at the door number in confusion before looking back at Natasha. "Is y/n here?"

"Y/n?" Natasha repeats. Her eyes narrow as she takes in the girl's appearance.

"Yes, I'm here for y/n," The girl repeats as if Natasha has comprehension issues. "The owner of this apartment unless she moved without telling us. Probably is something she would do."

"What business do you have with y/n?" Natasha asks, crossing her arms across her chest. She can feel the cool material of her shirt rub against her skin.

"I just came to bring her package," The girl offers a small package to Natasha. "Here. The Amazon lady keeps dropping it off at our door. I don't think she cares who it belongs to."

"Oh, okay," Natasha drops her arms. She takes the package in her hands.

"Are you her girlfriend or something?"

"Or something," Natasha says. "Who are you?"

"I'm Mallory, you can call me Mal," The girl nods. "I live across the hall." Mal inspects Natasha's choice of clothing and then whistles. "I didn't interrupt anything did I? You’re pretty. Hey, I know you."

"You do?" Natasha isn't all that surprised.

"You're the woman in the pictures," Mal grins. "The ex-wife she's still hung up on."

Natasha's heart beats loudly. Her interest is piqued by how well this kid knows you. "You've seen pictures?"

"Well, not the ones she's got framed," Mal explains. "But she had a bunch in an album and shit. You guys were so cute. Too bad it didn't work out between you. Though considering you're not even wearing panties I'd think it's going fine."

"Excuse me?" Natasha doesn't make a move to tug the shirt down. That would mean this teenager wins and she wants to call the girl's bluff.

"Lucky guess," Mal shrugs.

"Mal, who are you talking to?" A voice calls from behind them as the door across the hall opens. Natasha watches a woman, possibly a few years older than the teenager, approach the doorway. "Oh, hi."

"Mom," Mal carries this shit-eating grin as she looks at the other woman. "This is y/n's ex-wife. You know the one she's been moping about for a while now."

"Nice to meet you," The woman extends her hand out to Natasha. "I'm Sarah. My daughter's a little blunt, but I'm not as rude as she is. Sorry if she bothered you."

"Oh, no she's not a bother," Natasha assures the woman. She looks back at the teen. "She's been a delight."

"Good," Sarah nods. She grabs the collar of the girl's shirt. "That's why she doesn't have many friends."

"I have friends," Mal argues. "Y/n's a friend. I'm the one that's told her to get back in the saddle. Are you going to break her heart again? That would be messed up for you. Of course, after all of the pretty women she's turned down, she deserves something good."

"Pretty women?" Natasha questions. She can't hide the frown on her face.

"Yeah," Mal laughs. "Y/n's been getting a lot of attention. The whole building knows. You've been missed. Don't hurt her again."

"I'm not planning on it," Natasha promises.

"Good," Sarah grins. She tugs on her daughter's shirt, pulling the girl inside. "Nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you, too," Natasha smiles distractedly before closing the door behind her. She locks it just in time for her to hear the shuffle of your feet entering the kitchen.

"There's my shirt," You mumble as you eye her outfit. You opted for a clean one and boxers after not being able to find the one you'd stripped last night. "Hi, baby." You whisper as you close the distance between you. You rest your hands on her waist beneath the fabric as you plant a kiss on her lips. "Mhmm, you taste good." You dive in for another kiss.

"Y/n," Natasha hums. She feels you tug the hem of the shirt up and over her waist. Her bare bottom is exposed, but you keep her pressed against the door. "There's something you've been keeping from me."

"Hmm?" Your lips press against her pulse point, your hand tracing her inner thigh.

"A teenage girl and her mother were at your door," Natasha sighs. "They called me pretty. Told me a bunch of new things about you."

"I've been doing a lot of things," You mutter, kissing the exposed part of her shoulder.

"They mentioned," Natasha closes her eyes, feeling your fingers trace along the outside of her folds. "How many women have approached you? " She slightly pushes at your chest to get you to stop. You know that tone in her voice. It's not a playful one.

"A few have," You admit. "I didn't encourage anything. I wasn't interested. Why are we talking about this right now?"

"You're not interested?" Natasha questions.

"Not at all," You tilt your head. "Also, I wouldn't just say it's been that many women. Sarah and Mal are just fucking with you. Probably getting back at me for canceling our weekly dinner thing."

"Weekly dinner thing?" Natasha repeats. Her eyes are suddenly distant. It's almost as if she's debating on whether or not to make this a thing. "How often was that going on?"

"Every week for about six months," You answer, stepping away from her. "It's not a big deal. They've had a lot of people in their lives come and go. They're welcoming. Mal is a great kid once you get to know her."

"You know her," Natasha continues.

"Well, yeah she comes to the dinners too," You shrug. You take the box from her hands and step over to the counter to open it. if you weren't going to get any play you might as well open the surprise you'd gotten for yourself.

"Right, the kid that knew a lot about me," Natasha huffs.

"That should be a good thing right?" You glance over at her. You dump the contents of the box, a new pair of airpods after you've lost the last ones. "Is this going to be a conversation about how you think I'm sleeping with Sarah?"

"Should it be?" Natasha raises a brow.

"No, it shouldn't," You shake your head. "Are you jealous?"

"No," Natasha shakes her head. "I trust you. I just want to know more."

"Nat, it's nothing," You insist. "What's the big deal?"

"You didn't tell me," Natasha argues. "That while our kids were yearning and missing you, you were over here playing house with another woman and her kid. While Ryan and Emma got your voicemail inbox this kid got first in line to the family photo albums."

"That's not the case," You sigh. "It's not a thing, Nat."

"It's not?" Natasha scoffs. You didn't realize this would be an argument. You forgot how she finds the littlest things to dwell on.

"Did you just expect me not to have any friends?" You questioned. "If that's the thing you're mad at fine. I don't get it. You're insinuating that I was playing house with her is far from the truth."

"Were you?" Natasha challenges.

"Why are you doing this?" You sigh. You can't believe that this good day was turning into this. "I don't understand. I was lonely. Sarah was there for me. Mal is kind of just a part of the package. She let me vent to her. My not being there for the kids was my mistake. One I'm trying to make up for. It's kind of like your thing with Richard except she doesn't want to fuck me." Okay. You could have left that part out but you're honestly kind of annoyed at this entire thing.

"She doesn't want to?" Natasha laughs. "I thought you said you weren't interested. How can you know if she wanted to fuck you or not?"

"Because she's straight," You huff. "She's not going to want to fuck me."

You stand from your seat. "This is getting more ridiculous by the minute. If I knew a friend knocking on the door would trigger you this much I would have given you the warning to never open it. Actually, let me warn you Beatrice from the second floor likes to play bingo on Tuesday nights."

"Funny," Natasha rolls her eyes.

"is something wrong? You're picking a fight based on nothing," You sigh. "I'm sorry about the kids. Like I said it's something I'm working on. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows over here."

"It wasn't like it was with us," Natasha points out.

"Natasha," You start.

"Do you not think this is weird?" Natasha asks. "We haven't talked about it."

"Talked about what?" You grasp at straws. You don't know where the conversation is heading.

"Everything," Natasha throws her hands in the air. "We haven't spoken about it."

"I thought we've talked a lot," You are genuinely confused.

"We have but we haven't," Natasha's eyes narrow.

"Okay," You nod. "Let's talk. We can sit down and have a discussion. Just not when you're trying to accuse me of sleeping with some random woman and raising her child."

"It's just...a little hard to believe," Natasha says.

"Nat, I can assure you there was no one else," You sigh.

"I wasn't saying that," Natasha mutters.

"Okay, so let's sit down and discuss this," You gesture over to the couch. "Though you might want to put on panties first if you want me to keep my distance."

"Y/n," Natasha rolls her eyes.

"Hey, you started it," You hold up your hands.

Natasha takes a few steps to the couch and sits down. You sit a comfortable distance away, leaving room between the two of you.

"I know you guys thought I abandoned the kids," You frown. "It's not my best moment. I was going through a lot. It was inconsiderate of me. Selfish even."

"They cried for you," Natasha says with tears in her eyes. "Frequently."

"I didn't know," You frown. You didn't know how bad the situation was. "I'm sorry. I wish I could make up for it."

"You're not abandoning them now," Natasha reminds you.

"Never," You shake your head.

"I have a temper," Natasha spoke more to herself.

"Yes," You laugh. "I can remember."

"I just," Natasha takes a breath. "I just get a bit jealous."

"That's understandable," You nod. "You're possessive. A little whiplash comes with the territory."

"Is that why you left?" She looks at you curiously.

"That's not the reason," You shake your head.

"Why'd you leave?" Natasha questions. "Please be honest."

"You have no idea what it was like in my head," You frown. "The two of us weren't a team. Not like we should have been. We weren't even in the same book. We weren't reading from the same script. I was so focused on everything else that I didn't see what was happening in front of me."

"Was that it?" Natasha whispers. "That's the reason?"

"Part of it," You mutter.

"I want the other part," Natasha sighs. "If we're being honest with each other."

"You pick fights," You reminded her of what happened just a few moments ago. "I'm too nonchalant about shit. Fine, I can own up to it. You pick fights. Every day, I would come home. You would pick a fight."

"I wanted you to talk to me," Natasha replies. "I tried."

"I didn't feel like talking," You reply. "I'm sorry. It's not you. It's me. I didn't have anything to say. I was tired. Stress from work. I was afraid to admit that I would rather face that than anything going on at home. So many expectations. So many things to do. So much of people needing me."

"I'm sorry," Natasha nods. "I didn't mean for it to be like that."

"I know," You smile at her. "I'm sorry, too."

"We suck at communication," Natasha looked down at her hands.

"We do," You agree. "I felt we were growing apart and expecting too much from each other. For the record, if I hadn't told you I never stopped being attracted to you. I just couldn't bring myself to have sex. My libido had lessened. With us fighting it didn't make sense to me."

"That's good to know," Natasha says. "You turned me down a lot."

"Not my best decision," You cringe. "How do we come back from all of this while being truthful to ourselves and what happened in the first place? How do we keep that from happening again?"

"We could start by answering why you don't want to sleep over at the house," She suggested.

"I didn't want to," You frown.

"Why not?"

"It feels," You breathe. "Too many bad memories."

"Okay," Natasha nods.

"I know it's our kids' home," You add. "But I can't get past the fact that I left and everything has changed."

"I get that," Natasha hums.

"How do you get over it?" You question. "I've missed so much. How do you not let that cloud everything?"

"It does," Natasha nods. "But when you have two kids depending on you, you kind of just push through."

"How'd you manage?"

"I didn't," Natasha confesses. "For the first few months, I didn't. I didn't talk about you. I didn't show them the pictures."

"You didn't?" You are a little shocked.

"I wasn't ready," She admits. "I didn't know how to. There was this gaping hole. I was sad and angry."

"That's not the impression that was given," You mutter.

"I didn't show them," Natasha replies. "Richard did. I would watch him as he would talk to them about you."

"What?" You raise a brow. "That guy hates me."

"No, he doesn't," Natasha says. "He was disappointed and a little upset."

"Upset?" You question.

"He liked you," Natasha sighs.

"Yeah, okay," You scoff.

"He did," She insists. "Even if he is an asshole. I won't be trying to give you his redemption arc or anything. "

"He is an asshole," You nod.

"So are you," She says.

"What?"

"Sometimes you are," She smiles.

"You're right," You laugh.

"I am too," Natasha admits.

"I didn't think it was possible," You smile.

"What?"

"To fall in love with you twice," You look over at her. "I didn't think that was possible."

"I'm glad you did," Natasha's cheeks flush.

"Our marriage was like a piece of tape," You say suddenly.

"What?"

"It was always there," You shrug. "Trying to stick together. Never able to quite connect. There were a lot of issues that went unresolved. We never addressed the problems."

"I guess so," Natasha nods. "Do you want to fix them?"

"We don't have to," You remind her.

"I would like to," She looks over at you.

"I always wanted the kids," You confess. "I know that's been a doubt. Of course, you won't ask it out loud. I never felt pressured to have them. I wanted them just as much as you did. I want them just as much now."

Natasha bites her lip. It's amazing how well you know her.

"This divorce taught me how to be alone again," Natasha whispers. "I became too dependent on you for my happiness."

"We both did," You nod.

"Trying to have another baby would have been a mistake," Natasha has a look in her eyes. " Trying to have a baby when we weren’t okay would have been a mistake.” She clarifies. “A stupid one. The surprise would have ruined us. We were barely together as is."

"It was something you wanted," You put a comforting hand on her leg. "I would have been happy."

"Yeah?" She raises a brow.

"A little you running around? Not that Emma isn't already that," You shrug. "A lot of couples have babies to fix things."

"I didn't want us to be that couple," She shook her head.

"We wouldn't have," You promise.

"I was selfish," She admits. "I was mad at you for a long time. I didn't want to try."

"Nat, if you had gotten pregnant we would have made it work," You tell her.

"Isn't that crazy to think about?" She muses. "We always just made things work."

"It's how we were," You nod. "Until we couldn't anymore."

"Can I ask you something?" Natasha says after a long moment.

"Always," You nod.

"What do you need from me?"

"To be patient," You answer. "To communicate. I want the truth, even if it's a harsh one. To be my partner, not someone who feels like I'm obligated to do anything. What do you need from me?"

"Time," Natasha replies. "Just give me some time. Time to adjust and not think of the what-ifs. To figure things out. Time to not feel guilty for loving you."

"We're in no rush," You reassure her.

"Who needs marriage counseling now?" She smirked.

"We still do," You chuckled. "You're right. We're a lot alike. We don't talk. We don't have a way with words."

"We just say the wrong ones," Natasha agrees.

"We'll just have to work on that," You say. "Come here." You tug her over to you. Her lips press against yours and you let out a satisfied moan. "You're mine."

"Hmm," She presses her lips against yours. "Only yours."

"Good," You breathe. "Now, where were we?"

"I can't remember," Natasha smiles.

"Let's not remember, together" You pull her onto your lap.

"I like the sound of that." She kisses your lips. Your hands slide under the t-shirt again.

"You really answered the door without panties?" You ask cheekily. "Scandalous."

"It wasn't on purpose," She blushes. Your left-hand rises to toy with her nipples over the shirt. "We can't end all of our discussions with sex."

"No, but it's a great way to make sure we understand each other," You grin. You pinch the nipple and she jerks under your touch.

"You're going to ruin me," She lets out a whimper.

"Only a little," You tease. You kiss her lips and let her take control of the kiss.

"What happens if I don't have sex with you tonight?" Natasha whispers against your lips.

"I'll be disappointed," You say.

"You're going to have to take a raincheck," She replies. "You have lunch with my sister in like two hours."

"Ugh, I forgot," You groan.

"She's not going to go easy on you." She muttered as your kisses began to drift towards her neck. "Don't get too close or she might cut you."

"Natasha?" You mutter to her as you push the t-shirt over her head.

"Mhmm?" She half moans.

"I don't want to talk about your sister while I'm trying to fuck you," You say. "She's a bit of a mood killer."

"Fair," Natasha chuckles. "No more talking about Yelena. No more talking about anything."

"No more," You agree. The next few minutes are done in relative silence. You pepper her chest with kisses while your other hand waste no time finding her clit.

"Oh, god," She moans.

"You're soaked," You tell her. You can feel how wet she is against your thigh.

"You were taking too long," She pouts.

"Well, you were the one who insisted on arguing with me," You shrug. As a slight form of punishment, you tease the entrance of her pussy.

"I was trying to prove a point," She says as she bucks her hips.

"That I'm a whore with a second family?"

"I can't answer that," She breathes.

"You were being ridiculous," You shake your head. "I should be mad."

"Are you?"

"Not anymore," You sigh.

"Then," Natasha's lips move towards your ear. "I don't want to talk."

You smile as your lips find her's. "Neither do I."

****************

"I can't believe my sister has let you into her bed," Yelena says after the waiter leaves.

You sit across from Yelena at the table. You figured a public restaurant in a neutral place would be best. Though you have no doubt she's hiding a knife attached to her thigh or something.

"You don't think she can be forgiving?" You raise a brow.

"It depends on the situation," Yelena shrugs. "Natasha doesn't do anything if she's not a hundred percent on board. I should kill you for how much you hurt her."

"Go ahead," You shrug. "It'll be a lot better than what I've already put her through."

"So, this is you begging for forgiveness," She raises a brow.

"More so," You nod.

"I'm listening," Yelena folds her arms. She leans back in her chair and gives you the floor to speak.

"Wow, that easy?" You question. "I thought you'd want to strangle me by now."

"There's still time."

"Well, I've had a lot of time to think," You nod.

"You're telling me," She rolls her eyes. "The amount of nights I've heard Nat cry herself to sleep was...a lot. It was a lot."

"I'm sorry," You frown. "It wasn't my intention."

"What was your intention?" Yelena questions.

"To figure out how to be a good mother," You answer. "A good person to myself. How to be a person I think."

"How's that going?"

"I'm getting there," You chuckle nervously.

"You have a lot to work on," Yelena nods.

"I know."

"Do you think you and Nat can make it work?"

"I hope so," You drink from your cup.

"I don't like you," Yelena offers. "You messed up a good thing. "

"I'm aware."

"I'm glad that you are," She smirks.

"Are you going to be like this the whole time?" You question.

"Depends, you haven't done enough groveling," She replies.

"Fine," You roll your eyes. "What can I do to prove I'm worth a second chance?"

"That's a good question," She smirks. "I don't know."

"You're going to make me figure it out?"

"Yup," She grins.

"What if you don't like the answer?" You ask.

"Then, you'll never have Nat back."

"I don't think that's one hundred percent true,"

"She's desperate to have her family back," Yelena relents. She hates to admit it. "She wants it to work again because for some reason she still loves you."

"I don't understand why."

"I don't either," Yelena sighs. "I'm trying to see what she sees. But I just can't."

"You knew me before the divorce also," You pointed out. "We were close."

"Yeah," She nods. "Then you left."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't going to cut it."

"I'm going to make this right."

"You said that already," Yelena looks away. "My dad wants to break your arms."

"Why?"

"For making Nat cry," Yelena says. "That's what he does when anyone does that."

"I'll keep an eye out," You nod. "Do you have any idea how long I should be watching my back?"

"A while," Yelena smirks.

"I deserve it," You reply. "I don't mind the threat."

"Have you asked her to marry you again?"

You almost choke on your water. You grab a napkin to wipe at the dribble along your chin.

"No," You sputter. "We've just gotten back together. I mean we haven't even truly defined what this is. We don't even know where we will end up or if this will work. Does she want to?"

"I have no clue," Yelena answers. "Do you want to?"

"Of course, I do," You reply. "She's the love of my life."

"She's a fool to think you are." Yelena sighs.

"You're a great sister," You shake your head.

"I am," She nods. "Nat is the one that's a fool."

"Besides insulting me and her in some odd way, don't you want to ask me anything else?"

"You didn't cheat on her did you?"

"Technically it wouldn't be cheating since we were divorced but no,"

"Good," She nods.

"I would never."

"But you did lie."

"I know."

"What do you see happening if she takes you back? You can't leave her again."

"I won't," You answer. "I want us to go slow this time."

"Is that even possible?"

"It has to be," You nod.

"Okay, that's a good start," Yelena nods. "You're going to have a lot of making up to do."

"I know," You reply.

"This won't be a quick fix," She warns.

"I'm aware."

"It might not even work."

"I hope it does."

"Are you still a season ticket holder to the American baseball games?"

"Yes, why?"

"Can I have your season tickets?"

"I can arrange that." You look at her quizzically.

"Perfect."

"I'm glad you think so."

"That was the hardest one." Yelena relaxes.

"Does this mean you forgive me?"

"No, but I'm closer," Yelena sighs. "I can't forgive you, not yet. It's not up to me, though. It's up to my sister. If she forgives you, then so will I."

"How generous."

"It is."

"Anything else you want?" You raise a brow.

"Can I have your apartment?"

"What? That's a crazy thing to ask."

"Well, eventually when my sister lets you back into the house you're going to let it go."

"Probably."

"You need a new place."

"I have a condo."

"A place that doesn't have any memories."

"Maybe," You sigh. "We haven't talked about living arrangements."

"Just think about it," Yelena insists.

"I'll think about it."

"Good," She nods.

"Are you done now?" You question.

"For now," She shrugs.

You were good.

***************

2 years later…

In the softly lit room of the therapist’s office, Natasha and you sit close together, a quiet sense of anticipation hanging in the air. This is your final session of couples counseling, a moment to reflect on the journey you've undertaken together.

Cheryl begins, her voice calm and encouraging. "Today, we’re going to review all the progress you've made, celebrate your achievements, and talk about what you’ve learned about yourselves and each other."

Natasha glances at you, a small smile playing on her lips. It’s been a long road, filled with challenges and revelations. She thinks about the changes she's seen in herself and you. The walls she built after the divorce have slowly come down, replaced by trust and understanding.

"You both have shown incredible strength and resilience," Cheryl continues. "Natasha, you’ve learned to open up and share your vulnerabilities. And you’ve learned to be patient and supportive, giving y/n the space she needed."

Natasha nods, feeling a swell of gratitude. She remembers the moments of doubt and the times she almost gave up. But looking at you now, she knows it was worth it. The love between you is stronger.

“Y/n, you’ve learned to also open up and share your vulnerabilities and take time for yourself,” Cheryl reads from her notes. "Now, let’s talk about what you've learned about each other, "She prompts.

Taking a deep breath, you speak first. "I've learned that you’re incredibly patient and forgiving. You never gave up on us, even when things were tough. You’ve taught me the importance of communication and trust."

Natasha’s turn comes next. "I've learned that y/n is one of the strongest people I know. She’s been through so much, but she still finds the courage to move forward. I’ve learned to appreciate her resilience and to give her the support she needs."

The therapist smiles warmly. "You’ve both come a long way. Remember to look out for ‘red flags’—signs that things might be slipping. Communication is key, and recognizing these early on can help you address issues before they become bigger problems."

As the session draws to a close, the therapist summarizes your strengths and achievements. "You’ve rebuilt trust, learned to communicate more effectively, and found ways to support each other. Celebrate these victories and keep working on them."

Leaving the therapist’s office, Natasha feels a sense of hope and determination. This final session isn’t just an end; it’s a new beginning. Holding your hand, she knows that, together, you can face whatever comes next.

Now to go home to your kids.

************

When you walk through the door, you hear the familiar sounds of CocoMelon blasting at a ridiculous volume. You make eye contact with Natasha, rolling your eyes, but neither one of you truly feels annoyed by it. You drop your keys on the table and follow her into the living room.

"I thought I told you not to allow her to watch that," Natasha rounds the couch. "It's too overstimulating."

"Mom, you're back," Ryan hops up. "I have to show you what I made on Roblox."

"Sure thing kid," You ruffle his hair. "Where's your sister?"

"Right here," Emma walks into the room occupied by her tablet.

"Oh, hush she likes it," Yelena argues as she bounces the infant in her lap. There are so many conversations going on at once and the drooling baby in her lap turns her head at the voices she hears. Her eyes immediately brighten and she lifts to reach for Natasha.

"Hey, little one," Natasha coos as she takes your daughter into her arms. She plops onto the couch to properly hold her.

"She spit up again," Yelena points out. "I don't know why you guys don't get a proper nanny."

"We don't want that," You sigh as you settle next to Natasha. "I like coming home and having my kids running up to me."

"Plus, the last one was a thief," Natasha adds. "I caught her trying to steal some of my jewelry."

"You two are impossible," Yelena sighs. "So stubborn."

"You could've just said no," You point out.

"I'm not saying no to that face," Yelena pouts. She makes a funny face to which she receives a smile.

"You are going to spoil her," Natasha warns.

"She needs a spoiling."

"She's only six months old," You chuckle. "She doesn't need much."

"She needs the best," Yelena says. "Isn't that right Wren?"

"Like her auntie," You laugh.

"You are ridiculous," Yelena sighs.

"But you love us." You laugh.

"Okay, I'm heading out," Yelena stands. "Goodbye, family."

"See ya," You wave.

"Bye," Natasha waves with Wren's hand. "Say bye-bye, Wren."

Wren simply coos as her green eyes follow Yelena until she's out of the door.

It's then Emma decides to come and sit on your lap as Ryan rests at your feet.

"Hey put those devices away. Let's spend some family time," You nudge them.

"Okay," They groan as they put their stuff down. You receive a text on your phone and it's from none other than Tony Stark.

"Oh, come on, Mom you just told us to put them away," Ryan groans.

"I'm sorry, it's Tony, he wants to know if I'm willing to come back for my position," You offer. Your sabbatical had turned into a two-year break and a step down after the birth of Wren. You and Natasha had gotten remarried in a quiet ceremony this time. Just the four of you in a park with a minister. You didn’t announce it to friends or family. You’d both planned it out meticulously. You need it to be for both of you.

"Are you going back?" Natasha looks at you.

"What would you want me to do?" You question.

"Only you can decide that," She shrugs.

"I think I'm ready to go back," You nod. "With contingencies. My schedule can't be like it was. I want to spend as much time with my wife and kids as I can."

"Okay," Natasha nods. "Then, do it. You miss it."

"I'm still going to be here," You remind her. "I'm going to be there during important events like Wren's first steps. Emma's ballet recitals. Ryan's baseball games. All of it."

"I know, love," She kisses your cheek. "I believe you."

"Okay, let's settle the debate," Ryan interrupts. "Do you think Wren will say my name first or Emma's?"

"Probably Mom's," Emma replies.

"Or Auntie Lena," Ryan shrugs.

"Oh, God," You sigh. "She'll call everyone except you."

"I'll teach her to say it," Ryan promises.

"Okay," You roll your eyes.

"It'll be easy," Ryan nods. "She's a genius."

"I'm glad you think so highly of your sister."

"I can't help it," Ryan smiles. "She's pretty cute."

"And smart," Emma chimes in.

"Oh, and funny," Ryan laughs.

"Okay," You push Emma off you. "Wren, promise right now you'll say my name first."

The baby with the slightest bit of reddish-brown tufts of hair gurgles, stuffing her fingers into her mouth and chomping on them. Wren’s eyes, a striking green that mirrors Natasha’s, seem to take in everything with a surprising intensity for her age. There’s something undeniably familiar in her expressions and the way she moves—an echo of Natasha’s mannerisms. The resemblance is uncanny, a mini clone of her mother, right down to the determined set of her tiny jaw.

Having chosen the same donor for both Ryan,Emma, and Wren, it’s clear that the genetic legacy is strong. Wren’s features, the shape of her nose, the curve of her lips—all mirror Natasha’s so closely that it's like looking at a baby version of her. Even her little gestures, the way she furrows her brow in concentration or the slight tilt of her head when she’s curious, are pure Natasha.

"See, she gets it," You tell your kids.

"That doesn't count," Emma replies.

"It totally does," You argue. "Okay," you say with a laugh, feeling a warm sense of contentment wash over you. The playful banter between Ryan and Emma fills the room with a sense of normalcy and happiness that you cherish.

"Wren's lucky to have such a loving family. You two are going to be great role models for her." Natasha laughs.

Emma and Ryan exchange proud looks, their excitement about their baby sister evident.

As you all sit in the living room, the sense of togetherness and love envelops the family. Natasha takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "We've come a long way," she whispers.

You nod, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for the journey you've been on and the family you've built together. The future is bright, and you know that, with each other, you can face anything.

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #angst with a happy ending

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padfootagain · 1 month

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Love in Verses (I)

Chapter 1 : ‘And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do just lately’

Hi, everyone!!! I’m so glad to finally start posting this series! I know I’ve been talking about it for a while, and I thank all of you for being interested and even excited about it! I hope you won’t be disappointed!

The first chapters will set the plot into motion, of course, we need to get the story going!

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3502

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The Orange

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange— The size of it made us all laugh. I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave— They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy, As ordinary things often do Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park. This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

The rest of the day was quite easy. I did all the jobs on my list And enjoyed them and had some time over. I love you. I’m glad I exist.

Wendy Cope, The Orange and Other Poems, 2023

There was sunshine upon the Liffey that morning. A scent of new beginnings in the air, a whisk of excitement in the breeze.

You took a deep breath before entering the college grounds. This was what you had worked so hard for, for so long…

You were finally working in a university, you were a researcher, you would be teaching to younger generations about your passion. And every time you thought about that truth, that new reality, your heart made a happy jump, and a grin formed on your lips.

You were there. At long last. You had a teaching position, you had money for your research, and you had this at Trinity College, no less.

For now, there were no students, the grounds were empty, filled with nothing but old stones, bending trees and sunlight. The year had not begun yet, it was still the early days of August, filled with warm weather, summer storms and a tinge of sun here and there. It seemed that your first day was one of those sunny, warm days that felt too much like vacation time to work. A good omen, if you had ever seen one. A good omen for your life that seemed to fall perfectly into place these days. Professionally, you were achieving your goal today, with this position in the best university in Ireland. Your family was proud, and so were you. And on a personal point of view, you were engaged, to be married to a successful man. You glimpsed at the diamond on your finger. You didn’t have a date for the wedding yet, but you were aiming for spring of the coming year. Frank had proposed during the summer, while you were on a trip for your vacation in Wales. You smiled at the memory. You were lucky this year, your life was perfect, or at least, successful. You were ticking all the right boxes. What else could you ask for?

You walked between the still frames of Edmund Burke and Oliver Goldsmith, stepping finally on the grounds of Trinity College. And you took a deep breath as you stepped into the entrance hall, crossing the building to reach the first courtyard hidden inside. You gathered your thoughts, tried to slow down your beating heart that was pounding with nerves and excitement.

You were to meet one of the fellows of your department, Professor O’Connell. You had never met the woman, but she seemed kind enough on the phone, if strict in her tone. You checked your watch, but you were still seven minutes early. At least, you would not make a bad first impression because you were late…

You hurried under the archway at the centre of the yard, glancing at the forbidden green grass on both sides, and the tall buildings that surrounded it. You tried to calm yourself, thinking that you were an assistant professor already, even if this was your first stable job, that you knew what you were doing, that the papers you had already published were proof of your academic success and your worth as a researcher. You could do this. You could do this…

You walked towards the English department with hesitant steps, trying to follow directions on the various signs scattered across the grounds. A fifty-something woman waved at you from afar though, she seemed to be waiting in front of a building. You smiled, hurried towards her, hoping that you were not mistaken and that she was, indeed, the woman you were looking for…

“Y/N Y/L/N?” she asked, and you nodded your head with a grin.

“Yes! Professor O’Connell, I assume?” you answered, offering her your open hand, which she took with a smile.

“Oh, Lydia is more than enough. How are you?”

“Grand… grand…”

“Welcome to Trinity, I guess. I’ll guide you for a quick visit of our building, and then leave you in the competent hands of our HR department for you to sign off some paperwork. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

She guided you across the large stone building in which you would be working from now on. You easily got lost in the maze of corridors, staircases and halls you were crossing. Still, she showed you the cafeteria in which you were introduced to a few of your new colleagues, some of the classrooms, and finally she guided you to the HR, where a middle-aged woman gave you some paperwork to sign.

Lydia was waiting outside, ready to guide you to your office. A new maze of corridors opened before your feet, but you said nothing, figured that you would eventually get used to it. You took a turn to the right to another corridor, headed straight for the door a few steps ahead. Wooden, with two plaques fixed on its surface.

Dr. Andrew Hozier-Byrne

Dr. Y/N Y/LN

Your heart skipped a few beats at the sight of your name there, engraved in copper.

“You’ll be sharing your office with another of our assistant professors,” Lydia explained. “Andrew arrived last year, he’s working mostly on 20th century literature… but I’ll let him talk your ears off about his research.”

She knocked, didn’t wait for a response before opening the door.

The office was tiny, to say the least, but it was enough for the two desks and chairs set there, a wardrobe and a few shelves. There was a poster of Johnny Cash on one of the empty spots on the white walls, and a large window facing the door, behind one of the desks. The other desk was set on the left-side of the room, a tinier window behind it.

A man was sitting in the chair behind the desk in front of the larger window, and he looked up as the door opened and Lydia walked in, you following close behind.

“Good morning, Andrew,” Lydia greeted her colleague with a smile. “This is Y/N, our new assistant professor, who’s going to share your office this year.”

Andrew’s eyebrows arched slightly, although he still gave you a warm but shy smile, standing in a hurry. You couldn’t help your surprise as he stood up, towering you with an intimidating height. He seemed to have long hair, that he had tied in a bun. You studied his features, something kind and gentle made his hazel eyes shine, a short beard coloured his cheeks. He readjusted his glasses, as he quickly stepped around his desk. He was wearing a black turtleneck and dark jeans, there was a brown jacket thrown on the back of his chair.

You looked up at him as his smile widened just a little, still polite but with an extra-touch of kindness now. His body was intimidating though, and the fact that he was handsome wasn’t helping. He bent to avoid the lamp that was hanging from the ceiling.

“Of course! Erm… hi, nice to meet you,” he greeted you, offering you his open palm, avoiding eye-contact. You weren’t expecting how soft his voice was, how quiet his tone sounded. If his height gave something intimidating to his appearance, his voice countered that feeling, and you immediately felt more at ease.

“Hi! It’s very nice to meet you too, Andrew!”

“Alright, I’ll leave you to settle,” said Lydia, addressing you. “My office is down the corridor, if you need anything. But I’m sure Andrew can help you with the rest. The HR gave you everything you needed to access a computer?”

“Yes, I’ve got everything.”

“Good. Settle this morning, we’ll have a talk about your research this afternoon. The meeting for the upcoming year and classes is set later this week, you’ll get all the information you need for your teaching then.”

“Alright, thank you so much.”

She gave you a bright smile, before walking out of the room.

You were left alone with Andrew, who gave you another shy smile, rubbing at his palms.

“Erm… right… obviously, there is a large selection of desks you can choose from in this room,” he joked, his tone still stern, and you noticed how he was biting the inside of his cheek.

But you laughed good-heartedly at his joke, and he raised his eyebrows at your reaction.

“Hmm… I guess I’ll take this beauty over there,” you said, dropping your bag on your desk.

“Good choice,” he nodded, fleeing your gaze again. “Erm… I’ve emptied a couple of shelves over there for you too, and made some room in the wardrobe as well.”

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him and caught his eyes again, noticed their pretty hazel shade.

You turned on your computer, looked through your papers for the password that had been given to you so you could log in.

“So… what’s your research about?” he asked, a little awkward, shifting his weight while burying his hands in his pockets.

You noticed how he was bending his head and shoulders a little, as if to look smaller than he was.

“I work on feminism and the use of the female gaze in literature, as opposed to the male gaze.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you noticed how his gaze lit up with interest.

“Oh… that’s so interesting!”

You were surprised by the earnestness in his tone. The academic world was a particularly misogynistic one, after all. Most men in your field were enemies rather than allies.

“Yeah… I… I think so too,” you smiled, cursing yourself for your naïve answer. “I mean… If I chose to work on that, it means that I’m interested in it, but…”

He chuckled, the sound as quiet as his voice. You were still surprised by it, by the contrast it offered to his intimidating stature.

“Totally, yeah…”

“What about you?”

“20th century literature… mostly modernism and contemporary poetry. So… Lots of Joyce, Woolfe, Heaney and the likes.”

“Nice! That sounds interesting.”

“I mean… I teach a lot about modernism, but my research is more focused on poetry, especially poets who are currently writing.”

“That’s pretty rare, to have scholars studying contemporary art, instead of… dead people.”

You both chuckled at that.

“Yeah… but I… I mean… I value a lot the political weight of art, so… I find it more interesting to study something that talks about our current problems, rather than the problems from… four centuries ago or something...”

“Can’t argue with that,” you nodded.

You exchanged a smile, noticed that Andrew was relaxing as well by now.

“Erm… I’ll let you settle down, but… tell me if you need anything. Oh, and…”

Andrew nodded towards an empty frame tugged away against the wall, in a corner of the room.

“There’s an empty spot on the wall, feel free to hang something you like in it. As long as it’s decent enough.”

“Oh… I will refrain from a poster of my naked celebrity crush then,” you joked, making Andrew laugh again.

“Please, refrain. Although, I will accept your latest pagan ritual to summon Chtulhu or something…”

He tensed again, bit the inside of his cheek, as if he regretted his joke, but you laughed, and he seemed a little surprised by it.

“Dully noted… so, I can bring my pentagrams at work?”

His smile widened.

“Feel free to do so. I can produce the goat for the sacrificial ritual, if you need.”

You chuckled again, and Andrew bent his head, but you noticed the way his shoulders relaxed.

“Right, sorry for the weird humour,” he apologised anyway, and walked back to his desk. “Tell me if you need help with anything. I have a couple of things to take care of, but I can show you around if you need.”

“Okay, thank you! Yeah, that would be grand! And no need to apologise, I have a rather dark humour too.”

You exchanged a smile, before both of you would focus on your computers. You managed to log into almost everything, started to create documents and files for your research, downloaded a few articles that you needed to read this week.

It was almost noon when Andrew looked up from his screen again.

“Erm… is everything alright for you?” asked Andrew, his voice still as quiet.

“Yeah… erm… I just can’t log into something.”

Andrew stood up, bent to avoid the lamp again.

“Can I take a look?” he asked softly, and he walked around your desk when you nodded.

He helped you log into the software you needed, showed you a couple of things that you would need to use often.

“Would you like to get lunch?” he asked you with a timid smile.

You answered with a bright smile.

“Yeah, sure!”

“Did you bring some food?”

“Erm… no…”

“That’s fine, no worries,” he chuckled at your sudden hesitation. “We have a cafeteria in our building, for the staff. But it’s more suited for a coffee break than anything else. You can’t buy food there, except for a few snacks from a vending machine. There’s an electric kettle, a coffee machine… there’s a microwave and fridge too, if you… like… want to bring your own food. But nothing to make proper food. We can go to the cafeteria on the campus, though.”

“Okay, that would be nice! Are you waiting for anyone else for lunch?”

But Andrew shook his head.

“Most people in the department are gone to a conference in Cork for three days,” he explained.

“How come you didn’t go?”

But Andrew merely shrugged.

“I wasn’t invited to be a speaker, and to be honest, it was mostly about subjects I’m not particularly interested in. Besides, someone had to stay behind to keep the new lecturer company,” he smiled with a tinge of mischief, and you liked the sight.

He waited for you to gather your things, and you walked together out of the building. Andrew showed you around the campus a little bit, mainly the library and a couple of buildings where you could be asked to teach. You followed him to the cafeteria as well.

“Do you eat here often?” you asked, as you took a look at the food that was available that day.

“When I can. It’s not bad. But students come here too, so you should come only if you can avoid the worst of the crowd. As this year hasn’t started yet, we’re in the clear for a few more weeks.”

You ordered a sandwich, while Andrew bought a salad, and you walked together to one of the many empty tables.

“Lydia told me it was your first job as a professor?” asked Andrew, before sipping on a glass of water.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve obviously been teaching and working in research for a while, but it’s my first year since I got that title,” you answered with a smile.

“Have you talked about your classes with Lydia yet?”

“No, not too much. I should be able to create a couple of lectures based on my research, but for the more… general stuff, nothing.”

Andrew nodded.

“Yeah, you might inherit some of the classes no one really wants to do, as you’re the newbie.”

“Did it happen that way for you?”

Andrew nodded again, but shrugged right after, swallowing a mouthful of salad.

“I mean, you’ll stay in something you’re used to, don’t worry. But a lot of people are holding the classes they enjoy teaching. You’ll have a limited choice in your field.”

“Any class that you’re hoping to drop?”

“One of them is bound to religion and religious references. I should be able to pass it to someone else this year. We’re exchanging. I’ll get a class on Yeats instead, which is much more in my area of expertise… and interests.”

“Not a religious guy, are you?”

He chuckled.

“Not really, no.”

He didn’t elaborate on the subject, and you didn’t want to push him, happy enough that your colleague and office-roommate was talking to you and acting with benevolence.

“Where did you teach before Trinity?” you asked instead, changing subject.

“Cork for a while, but my partner works in Dublin so I really wanted to move back on the west coast. And then I had the opportunity to come to Trinity last year, when I got the rank of assistant professor, so I didn’t really hesitate. What about you?”

“I taught for a while in Belfast, and they offered me a job when I became assistant professor. But I really wanted to teach at Trinity, so I applied and… got the job! My fiancé is working about halfway between Belfast and Dublin anyway, so it didn’t change much on his side.”

Andrew nodded.

“Relationships can be tricky with academic jobs, especially with how few the teaching positions can be.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.”

You had gotten a yoghurt for dessert, and Andrew some dry fruits. He handed you the packet, a questioning rise of his eyebrow as a silent enquiry. You smiled, opened your hand and he poured some fruits in your palm.

“Anyway, I hope you’ll get interesting classes, and especially that you can teach about your research. Aside from being interesting for you, I think it’s important to develop what you’re working on in our field.”

You smiled, and he seemed to notice, giving you an awkward smile of his own in exchange.

“Thanks. I think so too.”

“But I have a more important question to tackle.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow, inviting him to go on.

“What poster are you going to put in that empty frame?”

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I have no idea,” you admitted.

“Well, think about it. The decoration of our office is at stake, that’s serious business.”

“Of course, of course. Definitely my number one priority.”

“Good, it should be. My Qi is very sensitive to that kind of stuff.”

You both laughed, and you felt yourself relax again.

You had a good feeling about Andrew, about your shared office, about your new job, about this whole life that was ahead of you.

The world was smiling to you, even the weather was on your side. What could possibly go wrong?

You were so excited to go home and tell everything to your fiancé. Frank got home before you did, you lingered a little longer than anticipated because you asked Andrew questions about how the university worked, the power dynamic in the department, the people you should avoid and those who were nice to talk to. And you wanted to tell Frank about Andrew too. You were so relieved that the colleague sharing your office was nice, kind even.

When you stepped inside, Frank was watching TV. He had ordered some takeaway, and was eating in front of a stupid show that was on, more focused on his phone than on the tv anyway. He jumped when you entered, put his phone away in a hurry.

“Hey, babe!” you greeted him with a grin, bending to kiss him as he sat on the couch.

“Hi! I ordered food for tonight,” he said, nodding towards the Indian food that was scattered across the coffee table.

“Nice!”

“You’re home late.”

You grinned, nodding your head.

“It went amazing!” you jumped up and down excitedly. “First, a senior professor, Lydia, came to pick me up and showed me around. She seems very strict, but nice as well. Apparently, as long as you do your job well, she’ll be on your side. I went to the HR to sign some papers, and…”

You noticed that Frank wasn’t paying too much attention anymore, so you rushed your explanation.

“Anyway, I’ve met a few colleagues, and especially Andrew! We’re sharing an office. He’s been of great help throughout the day, and he’s very sweet! Which is surprising given that he is quite literally a giant!”

“You’re sharing your office?”

“Yes!”

“With a guy?”

“Yes. His name is Andrew! He’s been teaching at Trinity for a year.”

You noticed the way Frank refrained from making a comment, knowing you would call him out for being jealous. You refrained a sigh.

“He lives near Dublin with his partner too. He’s specialised in poetry.”

Frank seemed to relax, and you struggled not to be annoyed by his reaction.

“It’s grand that your first day went fine, babe,” Frank gave you an earnest smile.

“I’m just so relieved that the guy sharing an office with me is not some… misogynistic gobshite. I mean, I don’t know Andrew very much, but he seemed to be more on the feminist side of the spectrum, so I’m sure we’ll be able to get along.”

“That’s nice.”

He didn’t ask any further question but he was still looking at you. You sat down next to him, and he handed you some food he had ordered for you. It wasn’t your favourite, but you liked it.

He opened his arm for you to settle against his shoulder, and you happily obliged. You thought about all the details you wanted to say, but knew would bore him. You chose another question instead.

“What are you watching?”

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier professor!AU #hozier au #hozier fanfic #hozier series #hozier imagine #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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chrzzboo · 8 months

Note

Lewis fic. Its his birthday y/n and him have an age gap. Not a crazy one but she teases him about his age.

My old man

Summary: It's Lewis's birthday, and you never fail to make him feel old on his special day.

Reader x Lewis Hamilton

Mention of age gap (10 years)

Note: First of all, I want to thank all of you for showing your love for my first-ever story on here. It means a lot!!! Also, I'm trying my best to write new stories based on your requests, but I'm currently in my exam period, so things might go slower. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this short fic!

It's currently 4 o'clock in the morning and Lewis is sound asleep next to me in bed. Why am I up so early already? Well it's my favourite human's birthday today and I want to make this day special for him. Knowing that Lewis always wakes up at around 6 o'clock for his early morning workouts made me get up early to decorate the house and get his favourites for his birthday.

I bought all the decorations last night and did a pretty good job at hiding it from Lewis. Starting by blowing up all the balloons and hanging them around the place followed by the rest of the decoration. If there is one thing that Lewis doesn't like, it's seeing his age on display. So that's exaclty what I did. I bought the numbers 39 in a big form and hung them on the most noticable place in the house to tease him even more.

After I was done with decorating the place I went out and went to the store to buy the last few things that were needed, thank God 24/7 hour stores are a thing otherwise I would've been fucked. While strolling along the aisles I can't help but find the perfect gift for Lewis. It was a dog shirt with the words 'Grandpa's favourite boy' displayed on it, promising myself to get Roscoe to wear it later. After getting the last things I went back home knowing that it was almost time for Lewis to wake up.

Putting everything on the counter i start to prepare his birthday breakfast with all his favourites in it. I still had plenty of time since I already wrapped his gifts yesterday, so in the meantime while I was making his breakfast I quickly took the dog shirt out for Roscoe to wear. He looked so adorable but I couldn't help but laugh at the shirt. I don't think Lewis would even be surprised since I've been teasing him about his age non stop.

While putting the last things on the table I felt two strong hands wrap around my waist. "Babe you went all out this year" Lewis exclaimed. "Well it's my favourite old man's birthday I had to make it special." I added. Lewis groans "Love are you seriously still making fun of me?" I gasped but it was quickly followed by my laugh. "I would never!" "I just wanted to celebrate you getting closer to the forties" Lewis groans again. "Babe seriously stop that I'm still in my thirties and that's what matters and also you're just 10 years younger then me your time will come as well" "Jeez Lewis you're making it sound as if I'm about to die or something but for now I'm happily enjoying my twenties" I say pecking his lips and leading him to the breakfast table.

"Babe there was no need to put those numbers up there" Lewis exclaimes. "Well you're an old man now I had to remind you before you forget" I say with a laugh. Lewis groans even more. "You're never letting it go are you?" "Ofcourse not old man!". "But babe on a serious note you didn't have to do all this" He said coming over to me and kissing me passionately. "But i wanted to since you deserve the world Lew" I tell him with a peck to his lips. "Thanks beautifull I love you!" He adds "And I love you too My old man. Soon the kiss turned into a makeout session when Lewis breaks the kiss and adds "Well after all this I would love for this birthday gift to be taken to the bedroom" Smirking I jump on to him with both my legs secured around his waist. But before we could go any further Roscoe pops up and starts barking for our attention. Lewis puts me down and both of our attention is on Roscoe. "Hey old guy, did you want to wish your dad a happy birthday as well?" Lewis says while scratching behind Roscoe's ears. But then Lewis freezes noticing the shirt I put on Roscoe earlier. He turns to me, but I was already out of sight, running for my life. "Y/N ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?"

The end.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

Text

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) II ch. II

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 5,044

Warnings: 8-year age gap, flashbacks of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, mentions of therapy, kookie trying to be a good husband, cute coupley stuff that idk anyone will like but 🥺 👉👈, jk says cawk , idk why this is a warning

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: Hi guys! I'm back! I thought I'd start off with a little flashback and then diving back into the story. Also, big thing–I decided not to make jk a complete butt. I don't want this story to be about "jk finally coming around after treating oc like garbage for wanting a kid". It's more of a we'll figure-it-out-together kinda thing though there will be bumps in the road. Anyway, enjoy 🥰

<< ch.I ༓ ch. III >> | series masterlist

To say falling in love with Jungkook was an effortless, butterflies-in-your-tummy, love-at-first-sight, you-know-it-when-you-see-it sort of affair is far from the truth. In actuality, you and Jungkook met on a very normal basis and had very normal rapport…well, somewhat normal.

Jungkook was your economics professor in grad school and you were merely one out of eighty of his students during the first semester. Surely you'd be walking out with no more than a barely scrimmaged 'A' and remnants of stupid economics jokes he and his colleagues found slapstick funny.

Jungkook always had an interesting sense of humor.

Bottom line? Your life wasn't a drama and you certainly didn't plan on living like it was–especially when your parents were on your tail, making sure their hard-earned money was well spent.

As if being bonked on the head by something called fate, however, Jungkook sent you away with far more than odd jokes and good grades.

Hey, hindsight is 20/20.

four years ago

“Oh, good morning.” A soft, yet hoarse voice strides past you. You view the man, estimating that he be in his early 30s though could easily pass for 25 by his youthful appearance. His hair is black, a bit shaggy but well-kept nonetheless. Silver piercings dangle from his ears and a pair of rectangular glasses rest on his perfectly symmetrical face. This is your professor?

Undoubtedly, what mesmerizes you the most is the striking arm tattoo partially displayed under the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt. You remember temporarily considering tattoo artistry in high school but studio arts appealed to you more.

Not like you got to do either though, seeing as you’ve been stuck in econ for the fifth year in a row. You’re parents insisted you get your master’s immediately after undergrad…how wonderful for you.

But back to the man at the front of the room. You weren’t expecting someone so hip and attractive–very, very attractive.

Your stomach churns but you brush the feeling away.

He's your professor for god sake.

The man, coincidentally your professor, quirks a small smile your way and sets his bag on the podium at the front. “Didn’t expect anyone to be here for another twenty minutes.”

“I just got out of another class a couple of rooms down so I’m here early.” You straighten in your seat and return a smile of your own. “It’s nice to meet you Dr. Jeon. I’m Y/N.” You start bouncing your leg up and down, clicking the pen in your hand. Please be right, please be right, you chant silently, hoping you remembered the name correctly.

Jungkook notices your slightly restless state but he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Just to be sure, you are here for ECON 602 right? Macroeconomic Theory?” He unzips his bag and sets his laptop on the podium. Making brief eye contact, he catches sight of the piece of paper directly below your nose. “That’s a beautiful sketch.”

You glance down, moving the paper to the side as if embarrassed. Not many people see your work beyond close friends, and even then you like to keep it to yourself. “Yes, absolutely,” you reply. “ECON 602, 12:15 pm. And thanks, I draw as a hobby.”

Your professor hums, nodding as he connects the HDMI cable to his laptop and lowers the presentation board.“ Dr. Kim is going to be quite jealous when he hears such artistic talent is in my economics class.” He lets out a slight chuckle. “You don’t mind if I tell him, do you? A little competition we have going on.”

You snort at the comment.

Dr. Kim Taehyung was the art department’s most talked about professor. Everyone knew him for his extremely unique perspective, classy personality, as well as his breathtaking artwork. You’ve passed him in the hallways a number of times, wishing you could study under him and dare you say, in more ways than one.

“I don’t mind.” You shake your head. “Are you and Dr. Kim close?” Maybe you shouldn’t be this curious but it was now fifteen minutes until the start of class and no one else had shown. What else were you going to fill time with? Awkward silence while you watch your professor fumble and tap on his keyboard?

“We were colleagues if you can believe that.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Only two years ahead of me in undergrad. When I first started teaching here I had no idea he was here too. But you know what they say __, it’s a small world.”

“Smaller,” you retort. “I feel like everywhere I go I run into someone I’ve known or seen at some point in my life. You just never really know I guess.” When you first entered university, you were counting your lucky stars that most of your high school peers were attending college nearby your hometown. You on the other hand were a good five to six hours from home. Last you checked, however, half of those peers were now getting married or on their second kid. Crazy how some people’s lives change on a dime.

You watch as your professor shuffles a few sheets of paper in his hands, scanning them briefly. “I can relate to that,” he mutters. “Pretty sure we haven’t met before though. Could be a bigger world than we think. Now where’s everyone else? Didn’t all drop last minute did they?” The man lifts his head, flashing a big gorgeous grin. His eyes are playful and dance with mirth.“Not that I would mind if it were just you and I this whole semester.“

“uh–“ is embarrassingly, all you say. He isn’t implying anything by that right? Oh god __, don’t be stupid. As you've established, this isn’t a romance novel and you’re most definitely not the main character.

“You seem attentive is what I mean,” the man says, breaking you out of your daze. “And beyond punctual. Two qualities that I hold in high esteem.” You’d say he had a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth but it was likely an illusion. Your professor has bigger fish to fry than worry about any possible scenarios you’ve concocted in your silly head.

Still, in a moment of sheer thoughtlessness, you say something you regret being unable to retract. “Thank you, I like you too.” As soon as the words fly out you feel the need to run out and bang your head against the wall. Thinking on your feet wasn’t your specialty.

Little to your knowledge, Jungkook finds your mannerisms cute and stifles the temptation to tease. You’re his student, after all, a little professionally please, he repeats to himself.

“So are you from here?” Jungkook asks, choosing to switch the topic before both of you get swallowed into a messy situation.

You shake your head in denial. “I live here temporarily but I grew up about five hours north of here. My parents are still there.”

“Ah, well that’s a bit away. I imagine you miss them?”

You ponder the question for a second, eyes rolling up in contemplation. “From time to time.” Jungkook gives a knowing look. He’s had his share of familial drama and the need for space.

“I understand,” he says. “I grew up ten hours south myself.”

“Wow, that’s…far.” You’re surprised by the distance and can’t imagine it’s an easy commute. You wonder how long he’s been here and more so, if he’s here alone.

“Yeah.” He rests his palms on the edge of the podium, leaning on them gently. The protruding veins in his forearms catch your attention but you pry yourself from lingering. After what you said earlier, the last thing you want is for Dr. Jeon to think you're coming on to him. “Gets a little quiet sometimes but I’ve learned to live with it.”

As if immune to learning from your mistakes you blurt exactly what’s in your head.“So you’re not–“

“Married? Dating? Seeing someone?” Jungkook finishes your sentence like it’s nothing he hasn’t done tenfold times before. “No. I’m not.”

You give a small “Ah,” nodding in understanding before another classmate walks in, putting an abrupt end to the conversation. Jungkook is quick to greet the young man who’s joined but he’s certain he won’t be forgetting your name anytime soon.

present

You tilt your head back, allowing beads of hot water to run down your bare skin. The sound of steady pattering combined with heavy steam relaxes your muscles.

You can't believe you actually told him.

Blurting out to Jungkook that you wanted a baby in the middle of a fight is not how you intended to open up to your husband. But everything escalated so fast that it just came out.

You think back to last night’s events.

Once the movie's credit scenes appear Jungkook feels your eyes burn through him from your lounged position. "You're making that face again," he says.

"There's no face."

"Look," Jungkook cuts shortly. "Will you just tell me so we can deal with it?!"

"Just deal with it? Like it's some kind of nuisance of an issue that needs treatment?" You jump up from the couch and head to your bedroom in a fury, your husband hot on your trail.

"I don't mean to be pissing you off, sweetheart but I know something's up." He follows you into the bathroom, watching you reach for your toothbrush. "Can you please slow down and talk to me?" He grabs the toothpaste before you can, forcing you to stop in your tracks.

"I–I want…I want to be a mom. I want a baby."

"A baby? What do you mean you want a baby?" You see the panic settling in his eyes. Jungkook takes you into his arms, his thumb wipes off some of your tears. "Honey, I'm sorry I didn't know. When you came home from the park I didn't realize that little boy meant so much to you."

You try blinking back your tears but they keep running down your face. He's being gentle with you and you appreciate that but his choice of words tells you his answer is no. It's quiet, subtle, and cuts like a knife.

You break away from him to splash cold water on your face. The coolness calms your nerves. “He didn’t. Never–never mind what I said, sorry. I’m tired and I’m probably not thinking straight.”

It was a blatant lie but just look at your situation. Married for two years, still on birth control, and had no plans to change that. Suddenly one party diverts from the plan fully aware that the other is perfectly comfortable with the current plan.

Yes, you hoped he'd have a slightly better reaction but you don't blame him for his stunned look.

Plus, did you even have enough time to realize what you were saying? Feeling? It could easily be written off that you were simply impulsive, emotionally vulnerable, and so on with the track record you had regarding kids and parenting.

You sigh, bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

Not much else happened after the fight. Jungkook apologized again with his arms wrapped around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and kissed your cheek too.

It was the usual, it felt familiar and warm but the pang in your head put a roadblock to that. No marriage is perfect. You know that. But you have a feeling you and Jungkook are headed for a steep valley, both on opposing sides.

"Hi.” You’re taken out of your thoughts when you hear the shower door pop open. Your husband steps in, with messy hair and half-open lids. Evidently, still sleepy.

You spare him a glance and quickly reach for your body wash on the shelf. “Hi,” you reply back, voice monotone.

Jungkook moves closer behind you and curves an arm around you. He grabs the bottle out of your hand and squirts some of the soap into his palm. “How did you sleep?”

A small shiver runs up your spine when his cool hand rubs circles against your upper back and shoulder. It still feels nice, you admit. You see some of the soap drip down and hit the shower floor.

“I slept okay. You?”

“I’m about the same.” Jungkook moves his hand a little lower, making sure to cover your whole backside. “I’m really sorry about how I handled things last night. What I said and how I said it was inexcusable.”

“Please, Jungkook you don’t have to keep apologizing about it. I know…and I’m sorry I spurred it on you so suddenly. It’s not how I wanted you to find out.” if at all, you add to yourself.

“Is it still true?” he asks, stopping his movements. “Do you really want to start a family?”

You feel queasy all over again. His tone is serious and if you turn around you’ll likely see the fire in his eyes. So you remain in your position, facing towards the shower head.

“I don’t know…” you finally say after thirty seconds of eerie silence. “But I think I do, I really do. Seeing our friends and other people our age have kids makes me wonder if we’d ever have that. I can’t explain why right now. I know it’s unexpected after we’ve been living a sort of way for so long.” After another pause you continue. “But I know it’s not a mutual thing and that’s…okay.”

“Sweetheart, even if we were to have kids…where would we find the time? The school year’s starting soon and I’m gonna be running ragged at the university next week. You know my schedule. I teach Monday through Friday, leaving at 7:15 am and returning around 4 p.m. You leave for work a little later in the morning but get back at 5 p.m. All our week consists of will be eating a quick dinner together, then I have to squirrel away to my office for the night to review class notes and grade stacks of assignments.”

Though you’re aware of how crazy busy Jungkook gets during the school year, you’re not foolish enough to believe that is the root of his argument.

“Maybe you’re right that we don’t have much time now but Jungkook, we can figure it out. You only teach 9 months out of the year and I can–I can stay at home or we can hire a nanny. And we don’t have to do it right away but–“

“__.” Jungkook turns you around so you’re looking eye to eye. He hesitates to say his next words, fearing a replay of yesterday. But he can’t bring himself to pretend with you. Not on something this serious. “I understand and I want more than anything to tell you I want the same, but I can't lie to you. Being a father, and having a kid, I think it’s wonderful but I just never saw that for myself. I’m so sorry I–”

Your heart concaves into your chest. You absolutely want him to be honest but it pains you to hear. Where do you go from here?

Slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck. Jungkook jolts a bit, surprised by your sudden gesture but welcomes the embrace.

“It’s okay Jungkook.” You settle your head into his shoulder, simply wanting to be close. One tear spills out, then another. “It’s okay.”

“No, look at me __. You didn’t let me finish.” You lift your head from his shoulder. Jungkook strokes your back soothingly before continuing. “If this is what you want, then I’m not going to stand here and be the asshole husband that just dismisses it. But this is a big step.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Don’t say what I think you are. Jungkook you don’t have to do anything.”

“I’m not saying I change my mind.” Of course, that would be unrealistic, you talk yourself through, preparing for his next words. “However, I am–I am willing to seriously consider this whole thing, babies, diapers, strollers, all of it. But I need you to be sure that this is what you want. And the only way I think that can happen is if we start this slow. Sounds like I’m making some sappy speech huh?”

Jungkook cracks a faint smile.

You look like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop or for him to yell psyche and flick your forehead or something.

But none of that happens.

Instead, Jungkook unwraps one of your arms from around your neck, places a light kiss on your knuckles, and stares deep into your eyes as if making a promise. “I know this isn’t exactly heaven to your ears but I’m just trying to say, let’s not rush to a decision yet, okay? All of this did just get revealed yesterday and I think it’d be unfair to both of us if we scurry past it without thinking.”

Shocked. You’re utterly shocked. You were expecting him to give you a flat-out no or attempt to cover up the issue somehow. While, this isn’t your ideal outcome, if Jungkook is willing to take this seriously, no bullshit necessary, then so are you.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You smile at him, feeling a tad lighter than you did before. Your heart beats again, slow and steady. “I love you.”

“I love you more than anything __. I married you and I intend to keep it that way.” Jungkook sneaks a wink and you press a kiss to his lips.

“Hey,” you pipe up. “It’s Sunday isn’t it?”

Jungkook nods in confusion. “It is..?”

“You have somewhere to be this morning don’t you?” You wait a moment before an oh-shit expression forms on Jungkook’s face.

As you remember your husband was supposed to be at some fancy gold club today. Like Jimin, a certain Kim Taehyung had his weekly “thing” too. Being close friends, Jungkook was supposed to be there, along with Hoseok.

“‘You're so right. 'M sorry honey I gotta go. They’re gonna kill me." Jungkook gives you one last kiss before slipping out of the shower. "I’ll be back for dinner.”

“Jungkook! Where the fuck have you been? We tried calling you!” Taehyung is the first to speak as soon as he catches sight of the younger man. He has his usual blush pink polo shirt on paired with well-pressed beige shorts.

He looks a little too handsome for golf.

Jungkook’s secretly glad his wife stayed home this time, as he’s fully aware of her mini crush on Taehyung in school. When she first found out they were colleagues he could tell she had borderline stars in her eyes.

“Sorry sorry,” Jungkook says. “I was doing stuff and time escaped me. Plus, I didn’t have my phone near me for a bit. But I’m here now, so let’s get going!” Jungkook walks in front of the two men, heading for the first stage of the golf course. “You guys coming?” He turns around and lifts both arms up.

Taehyung and Hoseok exchange looks before following his lead. It’s unlike Jungkook to be this eager for golf. In fact, he hates golf. And his explanation is a bit…questionable.

As much as Hoseok is a friend, he is also just as much of a psychologist who can't stop himself from practicing his craft when given the chance. “You doing alright?” Hoseok waits for Jungkook to answer, one hand clings around the top of his golf club while the other settles around his hip. "Haven't seen you since Jimin's last dinner.”

"Yeah, I'm good," Jungkook barely replies, watching Taehyung practice and few swings before taking the shot. Like a prodigy, it sinks right in. "Hole in one again man? I thought you painted."

Taehyung glances over his shoulder with a smug expression, cocky smirk, and sunglasses behind his head. "Don't be too jealous of hyung, Jungkookie."

"Fuck off Tae," Jungkook quips back. "I'm not 22 anymore. I have a good job, nice house, and a gorgeous wife waiting for me at home. What do you have? A bunch of golf balls in your pants.”

Hmm, a little more defensive than usual, Hoseok notes. And guarded too, something’s up.

"About that wife of yours Kook," Hoseok drawls. "How she doing?" Jungkook turns towards the man, slight distaste on his face.

“Uh, she’s fine. Thanks for asking. Also, I know what you’re doing and I’m not in the mood.”

"Ah Jungkook, you act like I'm being so malicious.” Smiling, Hoseok continues. “Can't I care about my friend of ten years without such accusations?"

Jungkook sighs and kicks the grass. Hoseok has been one of his closest friends for a long time so if there's anyone worth talking to about his current situation and who'd understand, I'd be him. "Well, I’m not saying much right now but.....__ recently told me she wants a baby. I’m still–I'm having trouble processing it. But I’m trying.”

Hoseok throws a hand behind the younger's shoulder. “That’s big news Jungkook and it’s completely fine that you’re still working through it. Don’t feel like you have to speed up the process either. I’ve known you both long enough to know that parenting hasn’t really been in the cards until now so I’m surprised myself.”

“I think she’s still a little unsure, but something happened the other day and it struck a cord inside her. She wants a family and,” Jungkook steps to the side, and Hoseok's hand slips from his shoulder. “I wish I could tell her I want it too. But I can't lie to her like that. I also don’t want her to bury that desire for my sake, so I told her we could consider it. I don’t know man, I feel like I’m trying to do the right thing but I don’t know if I can do this. Will I ever change my mind? I want to, for her.”

Hoseok looks at his friend with soft eyes, compassion in them. “Unfortunately, this is not something you can foresee nor force. At least not this early. But you’re definitely doing the right thing by not brushing her off. As real as your feelings are about not wanting a child right now, so are __'s feelings. It’s best you listen to both sides.”

Jungkook tousles his hair around. “I just–fuck.”

Hoseok doesn’t need further explanation to understand Jungkook’s predicament. He’s frustrated, blames himself, and is struggling to come to terms with reality. The unknown scares him and he doesn’t want to lose control of what little he has. “I’m sorry, Kook…it’s a heavy load. Why don't you come in for a session sometime? I think this might be something worth talking through."

“You mean therapy? I don't know, I’m about to have a pretty tight with school starting.”

"One hour, forty minutes at least," Hoseok insists. "Why not try it once and if you don't like it, you don't have to do it again. I love you both and as a friend, I want to be here for you. Beats standing around and watching Taehyung kick our ass at golf. Just think about it and let me know. As I said, I'm always here for you bro."

Jungkook nods and reaches a hand out to gently squeeze Hoseok's shoulder. "I'll think about it. Thanks."

"Hey!" Taehyung waves from afar. "What you guys doing still up there? I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes! Don’t forget that last place buys lunch.”

“He’s referring to you Kook.” Hoseok chuckles, slaps Jungkook on the back, and walks down the golf course toward Taehyung. “You suck at golf.”

Jungkook grunts, following close behind. If this were a benching competition he’d be taking home the whole damn meal.

With Jungkook still gone doing who knows what with his buddies you decide to blast your very wide array of music. It’s a good thing you and Jungkook live in your own house or else your poor neighbors would be knocking down the door with the landlord by now. Yes, that may or may not have happened once with you were in college.

Along with the music you stick true to your character and spread your art supplies on your drawing table. You had your own mini studio, thanks to your wonderful relator who helped find you the house. You reach for a pencil, spinning it between your fingers. Maybe you should finish the drawing of the park’s pond.

Mm, you don’t really feel like packing all your supplies and driving over right now.

Deciding to save it for another day, you ponder ideas of what to do instead. Should you try out your new watercolors? You bought them last week and while you weren’t exactly in low supply, if your husband can have a hundred scented candles you can have your paints.

bling–

You snatch your phone hearing the notification bell.

Jungkook: the rest of your morning going well? [sent at 11:03 a.m]

You smile faintly and type out a reply. Sweet to check in you suppose.

__: Fine. How are the guys? [sent at 11:04 a.m]

Jungkook: Whooping my ass but it’s alright. [sent at 11:07 a.m]

Good, you smirk. Jungkook is awful at golf. And he can stand to lose at something like the rest of you.

__: When are you coming home? [sent at 11:10 a.m]

Jungkook: Looking to wrap things up around 4 pm. I think we’re having a late lunch. Miss you. [sent at 11:13 a.m]

__: Okay, sounds good because I was thinking maybe we could go for ice cream when you get back. After dinner? miss you too [sent at 11:14 a.m]

You stare at the screen, waiting for a reply.

One minute goes by…

Two minutes…

Three…

Jungkook: Okay, sounds amazing. But why not before dinner? The place we like closes early on Sundays. I love you! [sent at 11:17 a.m]

Oh shoot, that’s right. You and Junkook have gone to the same ice cream shake since you first started dating. The couple who run it are super sweet, only a decade older. How could you forget?

__: I’m a dummy, yes we’ll go before dinner. I love you too [sent at 11:18 a.m]

Jungkook: Noo, you’re not a dummy! But okay, I’ll see you soon! [sent at 11:19 a.m]

Rejuvenated, you turn off your phone, jump off your art stool and crank the current song up–Runaway by Bon Jovi. Let’s see, you think, tearing a piece of watercolor paper from your drawing pad, what to do.

When the idea strikes you prepare water, paintbrushes, your palette, and anything else you may need for the next five hours give or take. You snatch your phone again and scroll through your photo gallery, hoping to get a good reference photo.

Your best friend’s birthday was two weeks away and she’s been subtly hinting for a painting of her, her fiancee’, and her dog Bear. As her closest friend and well-practiced artist, you think it is best to appease her request.

Jungkook comes home at 4 pm on the dot. Not a minute later. He looks happy, you conclude. Genuinely happy. It looks good on him.

“__!” Jungkook runs through the front door and lifts you up in his arms. He spins you around and you place your hands on his shoulders. This is so unexpected but nice.

“Jungkook,” you struggle to catch your breath. “What’s going on?”

“I just love coming home to you.” He places you back down and grabs your wrist. “Come on, I wanna stuff you full with ice cream.”

“That sounds so weird,” you laugh.

“Why?” Jungkook opens the front door, ushering you to go ahead of him.

“Because…it sounds like you want to stuff me. Like in a weird way.”

“Woman, that cleared nothing up for me.” You hop into the car with stupid grins on your face. You don’t even know what you mean let alone having to explain to your husband. What can you say, Jungkook makes you a little braindead.

“I just mean that you wanting to stuff me with ice cream sounds like the witch from Hanzel and Gretel. You wanna fatten me up to eat me. Or taxidermy,….or Build a Bear.”

“What the fuck honey,” Jungkook curses, backing out of your drive. “Did you get into something funky while I was gone?”

“No what–ugh never mind.” You stare out the window, arms crossed and biting back the need to giggle uncontrollably. Why were you so giddy right now?

Jungkook glances over with amusement. He knows you’re inches away from balling over with laughter. “You know what honey?”

“Hmm?”

“I think instead of stuffing you full of ice cream, I’m gonna stuff you full with something just as good.”

“Don’t say it Kook, don’t. I’m going to bust a gut.” You beg fully aware he’s not about to back down.

“My fucking cawk,” he says, making sure to exaggerate the last part.

You throw a hand over your mouth, tears well up in your eyes and this time, they’re not sad ones.

You pull up at the small, but charming ice cream stand at around 4:20 pm. It’s a decent crowd tonight.

You and Jungkook get out of the car with laced hands. You’ve managed to calm down now, thankfully. As you make your way to the line a small voice catches both your attention.

“Appa!” A little girl with blue ribbons in her hair runs past you. She looks between eight to ten years old. You and Jungkook follow her movement as she leaps up into her father’s arms.

You smile at the interaction. Her father kisses her cheek and chuckles as she shows him her ribbons. She looks like she’s telling a very eventful story.

Beside you, Jungkook stiffens. His eyes set on the pair but you’re unsure what he’s thinking. “Kook?” you say, but he doesn’t respond. You shake his hand, the one laced in yours, but still no response. It’s when you step in front of his view that you get him back.

“Hey,” you say. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook blinks at you and shakes his head a bit. “I’m good, sorry. Not sure what happened there. Must be a bit out of it today. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

A/N: I like this series vv much...thank you to anyone reading :) Lmk your thoughts and if you wanna be tagged comment or send me an ask!

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper

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masonmontz · 2 months

Text

heeeey everyone, how are you? :) i hope you like it, because it is one of my favorites

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

angst, fluff, smut (unprotected sex, praise, oral) word count: 11,4k

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Go change your clothes, we’re going to see Uncle Mason, he’s in London.” You said to Olivia, your 7 years old daughter.

“Can I use my new dress? The blue one.” She said, getting up and getting out of your bed.

“Sure, call me if you need help.” You said and she agreed, leaving your room. You smiled to yourself, knowing she can handle everything on her own, but you offer help just the same. She is a girl with her own opinion and no one can change her mind.

Olivia is your greatest gift.

You got pregnant early, you were only 18 when you found out and your life turned upside down. Your father wasn't very happy when he found out you were pregnant and that's why you decided to find a place for you and live on your own, giving up on going to college and focusing on having a full-time job to pay the bills and try to provide comfort for your baby. Your mother and your younger sister always helped you, as did your friends, who were the best in the world.

Mason and Ayla always helped you, they stayed with you in the good and bad moments, that's why they were both Olivia's godparents. Mason offered you his own house for a few months, Ayla bought Olivia lots of clothes and diapers, and always helped you when you were sad and felt ugly because of your big belly.

Living with your best friend for a few months was when you realized you were in love with him. Mason was funny, kind, and stood by you when it seemed like the worst time of your life. You weren't sure you'd stay with Olivia, but when you saw that beautiful face, you had no doubt that she was the greatest love of your life.

You blamed it on hormones for a long time, but when Mason was the one who stayed with you when she was born, you knew it was love. But Mason had become a professional player, he was busy with Chelsea and that's why you never said anything, nor did you ever want to tie him to you.

Him being great with Olivia didn't help much, you drooled every time he held your daughter. Mason used to see her almost every day after training, sometimes Ayla was there too but she worked and couldn't always come to your house. Olivia is also in love with Uncle Mason, but she doesn't hide it from anyone, unlike you.

You never showed your feelings for Mason, so little by little you kept everything locked inside you. Mason had several girlfriends, several one-night stands, and you also met some interesting guys. Some were idiots and left you when they found out you had a daughter, others knew but didn't like her, and the one you liked the most, Matty, left to work in China with no plans to return to England.

Mason was Olivia's favorite adult, and even when he moved to Manchester, he called her almost every day, sent her some gifts and whenever possible came to see her in London.

“Mum, can you tie my hair?” Olivia asked and entered your room while you were putting on some clothes. Summer was close and the days were getting hotter, so you wore a black skirt and a white blouse, sandals and tied your hair up like Olivia. Mason sent you a message inviting you and Olivia to dinner, he was only spending two days in London and would soon return to Manchester.

“Do you want to do makeup?” You asked her but she denied. “Do you want help tying your shoelaces?”

“Yes, please, mum.” She said and you smiled at her, your polite girl. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome babe, give me a hug.” You bent down and Olivia hugged you, then you pulled her onto your lap. She was growing so fast, but she was still your baby. “You’re so pretty.”

“Yes, ‘cause I’m just like you.” She said and rolled her eyes, you couldn't help but laugh at her. It was true, Olivia was a lot like you. Her father was a one-night stand and you never had contact with him again, but every day you try to be enough for her.

And you never lied to her, every time she asked if she had a father, you explained that you didn't know where he lived or how to talk to him, you never left her waiting for someone who wouldn't show up, and little by little she focused only on you and the family and friends she has.

Olivia was a happy girl. You always tried to teach her to be polite, you didn't yell at her, you always woke her up with a smile, and the same customs you taught her, she learned.

“Are you ready?” You asked and she agreed, giving you her hand and you walked to the living room to get your bag. “Uncle Mason will buy you sushi.”

“That’s why he’s my favorite Uncle.” She said and you laughed again, Mason knows sushi is her favorite food and he always wants to take her to eat sushi with him, even if you don't like it. Mason found a companion for Japanese restaurants and it was Olivia, when at the age of five Ayla gave her sushi and she loved it, and you always chose yakisoba, because you didn't like sushi, but you always took her to dinner with her godfather.

“Just because he buys you sushi? I'll tell him.” You say before entering the elevator, still holding her hand.

“He won't mind, he loves me very much.” She says and blows you a kiss, packing her own pink bag.

“You think you're too much, little girl.” You say while fixing her hair. The uber was already waiting for you and in fifteen minutes you arrived at the restaurant that Mason told you he was waiting for you two. Ayla was traveling with her fiancé and couldn't make it to the dinner, so it would just be the three of you.

“Look, Mason is there.” You point to where Mason was on his phone sitting at a table alone, then Olivia ran over before you could catch her. She called out to him and several people in the restaurant looked at her, making you feel embarrassed at the attention.

Mason smiled when he heard it and stood up, bending down to catch her as she threw herself into his arms. You approached smiling, noticing that Mason hugged her for a few seconds and they were both smiling.

“I missed you so much, look how big you are.” He said and set her down again, kneeling down to leave a kiss on her cheek.

“I missed you too, Uncle Masey.” She said, sitting on the chair and looking at you.

“Hello.” You said and Mason got up, he hugged you tightly and you smelled his perfume, it had been the same for years and it never stopped being good. “You good?”

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered in your ear. “I missed you too.”

“I bet Manchester is great, you haven't come to London anymore.” You teased and he smiled, then you sat down again while Olivia looked at the menu.

“I'm busy there after the injury, but I think next season I'll be able to play and things will get better.” He said and you gave him a confident smile, but soon he looked at Olivia again. “What about you, pumpkin? How is school?”

“Good, I'm learning how to do math and about plants.” She said, ignoring Mason and looking at you. “Mum, can I order a juice?”

“Sure.” She took out the tablet and you and Mason helped her place the order herself, then she placed an order for the two of you too. You spent dinner talking, Mason told him some news about the team, you listened to Olivia talk about some of her friends from school to him and you told him a little about your work.

As always, she and Mason ate several pieces of sushi while you tried to ignore the fishy smell, which made you feel sick. You didn't know that food could make a child as happy as it made Olivia happy.

“Do you want dessert, honey?” You asked her, but she denied. “For real? I want a brownie with ice cream, don't you want to share it with me?”

“No, mum, I am satisfied.” She said and you and Mason laughed.

“Okay, little lady. Do you want to share with me?” You asked Mason, but just like Olivia, he denied.

“No sugar for me, sorry.”

“Mum, can I go there to see the playground?” Olivia asked and pointed to the outside, sheltered area where some children were playing.

“Yes, but be careful not to get hurt.” She barely heard you and was soon running outside, leaving you and Mason alone.

“So, how are things around here?” He asked, placing his hand on the table and offering it for you to hold. You rested your hand on his and squeezed. “I talk to Olivia more than I talk to you.”

“It's not my fault she takes the phone all to herself when you call.” He smiled, looking more beautiful than ever. Mason is wearing a black t-shirt and jeans and white sneakers. He is simple and beautiful and you try to ignore your attraction to him. “Everything is fine, I got promoted at work and Olivia started French class, now she says things that I don't know what they mean.”

“Have you spoken to Ayla?”

“Yes, she is in Portugal with Robert, the last trip before the wedding.” You took out your phone and showed some photos she sent you to Mason. “She is so happy, I can’t believe they’re getting married.”

“I remember when she met him, I would never have said they would get married.” He said and took another sip of water, still looking at you. “How about you? Any guy in your life?”

“Ah, of course I have, before coming here I sent one away. He was annoying me because he is in love with me.” You said ironically and Mason snorted. “Last week a man said hi to me at the grocery store and Olivia asked why I was panting in front of him.”

“She’s my favorite.” Mason was laughing at you, and you blushed as you remembered the scene. “But seriously, no one?”

You shook your head and gave Mason a small smile.

“I don't think it's right to put someone in her life now and take them away if it doesn't work out, I need to think more about Olivia than myself.”

“You can't forget yourself, Y/N. I know you love Olivia and want to do the best for her, but you still have a life and you are young.” You looked at the ground, blushing. “You still haven't found the right guy.”

“Men don't like a single mother.”

“You are looking for the wrong men.” Mason winked at you, but you didn't understand. Olivia went back to the table to drink water, but then quickly ran to the playground.

“Why don't you go to a game in Manchester? We are at the end of the season and I would like Olivia to come see me. It's been a few months since she's watched a match.”

“I need to see her school calendar, she can't miss many classes, but we can arrange it.”

“And you need to watch a match too, it's been a while since I've had my lucky charm cheering me on.”

“Stop it, I’m not your lucky charm.” Your face turned red.

“Yes you are, you haven't watched the matches in almost a year and the season was shit.” He said and smiled at you. “Summer is coming, I think it would be a good idea if you and Olivia spent the vacations with me and my family, what do you think? Do you already have plans?”

“She's been asking to go to the beach, so I think I'll take her for a few days. I hope it's sunny so she can enjoy it.”

“We’re going to Greece, you wanna come? I would love to have you there.”

“No, sorry. I don't want to ruin your family vacation, and Greece must be very expensive.”

“You know I can pay for everything.”

“I know but it's not fair, I don't want you to spend money on me or Olivia.”

“But I’m her godfather.” Mason grumbled. “And you’re my best friend, I just want to give you both good presents.”

“And I thank you for that, Mason, but that’s too much.” You said, and he snorted. “Maybe we can take her to the beach together when you get back.”

“I'm going to Portugal after Greece for pre-season, I don't think I'll be back in London until July.”

“Another time then.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

Mason insisted on taking you and Olivia home. She played a lot and ended up sleeping in the car and you and Mason talked quietly to not wake her up. When he parked in front of the building, he insisted on carrying Olivia to your apartment, knowing that you wouldn't be able to do everything with her in your arms.

Mason was so careful with her that your heart melted when you saw him leave a kiss on her forehead, murmuring a few words even though he knew she wasn't listening.

“I always miss you two when I'm in Manchester.” Mason said as he closed Olivia's bedroom door. You were standing in the hallway waiting for him, so the two of you walked to the kitchen, speaking quietly so she wouldn't wake up.

“C’mon, you have a lot of friends there.”

“Yes, but I miss my favorite girl in the world.” He said, accepting the cup of tea you offered. “There's a party in Manchester next week, I invited Ayla and Robert and I'd like you to go too.”

“A party?” You raised your eyebrows, not really liking the idea of not taking your daughter with you.

“It's a Man U party, I want you to go. My family is going away and they won't be able to go, and I don't want to be alone there.”

“I don’t know, I don't want to leave Olivia alone.”

“Leave her with your mom and sister, you need to have some fun too.”

“I will think about it.” You spoke quietly, but Mason agreed. He would probably spend the rest of the week urging you to go.

You and Mason hadn't gone out alone for years, you used to go to a lot of parties before you got pregnant, after that he continued going to a lot of parties and meeting a lot of people, but you had a baby to take care of. Now you usually go to some restaurants, birthday parties, school presentations, swimming lessons and to your parents' or Ayla's house.

“I need to go now, I have an early meeting tomorrow and then I'm going back to Manchester.” Mason said, taking the cup of tea to the kitchen sink.

“Okay, I'll let you know if I decide to go to Manchester.”

“Please go, it will be fun.” He said smiling at you, and it made you melt like butter. “I’ll miss you until then.”

“Don’t be silly, you'll have a lot to do until next week.” You respond, leaving a light slap on his arm and making him mumble.

“And I still miss my best friend.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“I live for you, I long for you, Olivia, I've been idolizing the light in your eyes, Olivia…” You sang softly as you packed your bags for the short trip to Manchester. “The summertime and butterflies, all belong to your creation, I love you, it's all I do, I love you…”

“How many days will you stay there?” Olivia asked. She was lying in your bed quietly, she was watching a movie while you were packing your clothes and she was keeping you company.

“Three days, my love.” You replied, organizing your hygiene items. “Mommy is leaving tomorrow morning and I'll be back Sunday night. You won't even have time to miss me.”

“But I will, you've never left me alone for so long.” She spoke, and when you looked at her, you saw that her eyes were teary. She was wearing pink pajamas that she changed into after her shower, so she lay next to you in your bed in silence, now you understood why.

“Oh, my sweet girl, don’t cry or I’ll cry too.” You got up and laid down next to her, hugging your sentimental girl. “You will have fun with nanna and your aunt, they will take you to some fun places.”

“But what if I need to talk to you?”

“You can call me, I will always answer you, dear. And if I don't answer, you know you can call Mason.” She agreed, so you left a kiss on her forehead and got up to continue packing your things. Your heart was already hurting, you had never spent more than a day away from Olivia and you would be lying if you said you weren't scared.

But maybe Mason was right, it was time to have some fun and remember that you're only twenty-five.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“The size of this house is shameful.” You spoke quietly to Ayla as the two of you opened all the doors to see the rooms and Mason and Robert were in the room after Mason picked the three of you up. “We can get lost here.”

“Look at that bathtub, I'm going to ask Mason if I can have this room.” You agreed, then you both went downstairs again.

Mason picked you up and not even he believed you traveled there, even though you told him you were going to Manchester. He probably thought you were joking, even more so because they all know that you never left Olivia for more than a day and took her everywhere with you, or you just didn't go.

You spent almost five minutes saying goodbye to her, hugging and kissing your little girl, who was also a little sad about being away from her mommy for a few days. You promised gifts and calls every day until you returned home. Olivia was your best company, you always had her in your arms and you always taught her that she could count on you for everything. You were best friends.

“Did you guys have fun snooping around my house?” Mason asked as he offered you both a soda. “Did you like the house?”

“Oh we like it.” She replied and gave Mason a mischievous smile. “I want to have the room with the bathtub.”

“A bathtub? I'm enjoying this trip even more.” Robert said and you laughed, just like Mason.

“You’re disgusting, this is my house.” Mason said, closing his eyes and trying to get the image out of his head.

You sat on the couch next to Mason, and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. You had a calm friendship, you loved Mason and he loved you, as a friend. But you always hugged each other, you were always together, and people got used to seeing you like that.

“Was Olivia okay?” He asked quietly, just for you. Ayla and Robert got up to look at the trophies and medals displayed in the room.

“I think she was a little sad, I never left her alone for so long. She cried yesterday and was worried in case she needed me.”

“Aww, she loves her mommy so much.” Mason smiled and gave you a kiss on your forehead. “I thought we could go out to dinner today, what do you think? Or we can order something and have a game night, just like the old days.”

“Both options sound great to me.”

Ayla and Robert preferred to stay at home, so Mason ordered pizza and you spent several hours playing games he had. Close to bedtime Olivia called, and you spent almost fifteen minutes talking to your daughter before hanging up. She looked sad, and even if she didn't let it show, you knew your girl very well.

Your mother said they went for a walk in the afternoon, but Olivia said a few times that you would be gone for many days and that made your heart hurt. You walked back into the room and Mason and Ayla were arguing over the rules of the game. Years ago it was common, you were used to the two of them fighting and you felt happy to be able to remember those times, even though now everything was different.

“Y/N, tell him how the game works.” Ayla said, angry.

“You don't know anything, Ayla. That's not how it works, read the manual.” Mason shot back.

“I don’t have to, because I know.”

“Oh Lord.” Robert said, and you placed your hand on his shoulder.

“This is what I've been putting up with for many years.”

In the end, you decided to play Uno, which was the best option. You and Mason won almost every time because no one was as competitive as you.

“I'm going to training early tomorrow, but I'll be back before lunch.” He said when you went upstairs to get ready to bed.

“Alright, we'll wait for you.” You smiled and Mason stopped at the door to his bedroom. Ayla and Robert had already gone to sleep a few minutes ago. “Good night, Mase.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Hey, wake up.” Mason whispered in your ear, giving you goosebumps. He left kisses down your back, running his hands over your body as he brought his warm body closer to yours. You were sweating.

You moaned as Mason fitted his hips between your legs and pressed you against the mattress. His kisses were so good that you could barely open your eyes as you felt his body on top of yours.

“This is so good, Mason.” You moaned, and he continued whispering nonsense in your ear while his hands ran over your ass.

And you woke up.

You sat up in bed, breathing heavily, wondering what had happened. The room was dark and only you were there.

Oh. My. God.

Did you have an erotic dream about your best friend? You're crazy, that's all it can be. Was it just you or was the house too hot?

You got up and left the room, going downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water. You didn't even notice, but Mason was lying on the couch and you walked past him quickly, so he followed you. You didn't even turn on the kitchen light, you just looked for a glass and opened the fridge to get the bottle of water.

“Are you okay?” You jumped in fright when you heard Mason's voice behind you, and your heart sped up even more.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You asked, putting your hands in your chest. “Oh my God.”

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, but I was lying on the couch and you walked past me and didn't even see me.” He spoke and walked over, then took the glass from your hand and filled it with water for you. “What’s wrong?”

You didn't say anything, in fact, you didn't know what to respond. Surely telling your best friend that you had a wet dream about him was not an option. Your body was still hot and with Mason staring at you you seemed to burn even more.

“Nightmares.” You spoke quietly and turned around, leaning on the counter behind you.

Mason tried to look away from your legs, but the short pajamas didn't help and drew your curves. Mason hadn't seen you this comfortable in a long time, and he cleared his throat when he saw your breasts showing as well.

Surely the last thing Mason wanted to do was notice his best friend's body. But it was inevitable, and when you turned around, Mason couldn't hide the fact that he was looking at your legs and ass. He turned red and your breathing quickened again as you remembered your wet dream, but you didn't say anything.

“Can't sleep?” You asked and Mason agreed.

“Kind of, I'm tired from training and sometimes I get very anxious because of the season and the pressure.” Mason spoke and got him a bottle of water. You looked at the clock and it was already past 2 am, and the day would be long.

“I'm going back to the room, you coming?”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“What? I can hear you, the music is too loud.” You said to Ayla, while a Rihanna song played around the place. It was so loud that you couldn't hear anything anyone else was saying. You arrived an hour ago, Mason introduced you to the players and families and you were happy that he had so many friends in Manchester.

Mason is happy, kind and makes friends wherever he goes, unlike you who have few and almost no new friends. You and Ayla didn't leave the food table and Robert looked embarrassed when he looked at the two of you trying all the food there.

It was for free, no one could judge you.

After an hour, you and Ayla had already had several drinks and you were totally dizzy. You hadn’t had anything but a glass of wine in months and it was the first time in a long time that you had allowed yourself to drink like that. And that's why you're not thinking straight.

Mason was next to you and he had drunk as much as you, and soon the two of you were in the middle of the dance floor with lots of other people dancing, just like in the old days when you used to go out and dance the night away, having so much fun.

“I was looking at you and that dress looks great on you, you look beautiful.” Mason spoke in your ear, and it made you smile.

“Oh, you think? It was something old I had in my closet.” He smiled at you, placing his hand on your waist. You weren't thinking straight, either of you.

“Red looks so good on you, I love when you use this color. You look sexy.” You placed your hand on his chest, bracing yourself when someone bumped into you. Mason caught you and stopped you from falling, then he put his hand on your back and you put a hand on his arm, squeezing. You knew you were drunk, but Mason looked prettier than usual and when you realized that, you stared at him.

“Really?” You asked and he agreed, bringing his mouth closer to your ear once again and making you shiver.

“In fact, since you were ready, all I could think about was how beautiful you look.” He left a light kiss on your shoulder and you sighed, not believing what was happening. Was this another dream? “The most beautiful woman in this place.”

You turned your face away and looked at Mason, a little scared by his words, but your heart was racing in your chest and you couldn't believe what he was saying.

“What?”

“I'm serious, I've been dying to kiss you since you showed up wearing that dress.” You couldn’t respond because Mason kissed you, and it felt so good that your legs felt weak.

Even though you were scared, the drink didn't stop you from kissing him back, and that's why you kissed Mason among many strangers. You hoped Ayla wasn't seeing this. His lips were so soft that you felt like you wanted to kiss him forever. His tongue against yours gave you goosebumps and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, scratching the back of his neck with the tips of your nails.

When you needed to breathe, you pulled away a little and Mason moved his kisses down to your neck. It was exactly like your dream, but this time it was true. His mouth was as soft as you imagined, and everything felt warm, the music had disappeared and just the two of you were there.

“Mason... there are a lot of people here.” You whispered and he held you tighter against him.

“Do you wanna go home with me?”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Your skin is so soft.” Mason pressed you against the wall when you entered his house. You didn't even tell Ayla and Robert that you had left and called a taxi to get home as quickly as possible. Your body was burning for Mason, he hadn't let go of you for a minute since you got in the taxi. He left several kisses and marks all over your neck, but even drunk, you tried to have respect for the driver.

Mason almost dragged you out of the car when you arrived, and soon he was on you again, kissing you hard and so, so good. Mason almost dragged you out of the car when you arrived, and soon he was on top of you again, kissing you hard. You had already imagined it, but it never got that far.

“Oh, lord.” You sighed as Mason reached for the zipper of your dress and pulled it, not caring that you were in the middle of his living room, and when the dress fell to the floor, Mason's eyes lit up.

“You are so beautiful, look at you.” He whispered, placing his hands on you and running his tongue along your neck once more. You were only in your underwear in front of Mason, and you were as comfortable as you had ever been just because of the way he was looking at you. Mason picked you up and while you were kissing he walked up the stairs to his room, tripping a few times as you laughed between kisses.

“I think I'm drunk.” You said and Mason laughed when he placed you on the mattress.

“Me too, and I don't care.” He spoke slowly. Mason took off his shirt and you were able to admire his defined arms and chest, almost salivating at being able to touch him for the first time in the way you wanted.

Mason climbed on top of you and you wrapped your legs around his hips as he kissed you again, this time with much more desire. You ran your nails down his back and Mason groaned, pressing his hips against yours and making you feel his bulge.

“I've wanted to do this for so many years.” He spoke before bringing his mouth to your breasts, licking your nipple and holding the other with his free hand. You whimpered and pulled on his hair, feeling Mason gasp.

You pushed Mason and laid him down on the bed, climbing on top of him and fitting your groin against him, which made him sigh. You opened the button on his pants and pulled them off, leaving him only in his underwear, just like you. You sighed at the sight of his erection, just because of you.

“These tattoos make you look very sexy.”

“Yeah?” he asked with a mischievous smile, then pulled you closer to him again to kiss you, but you brought your lips to his neck and kissed it, moving your kisses down to his chest, feeling Mason gasp. “You’re driving me crazy.”

You slid your hands down his abdomen, then reached down and pulled down his underwear, making his hard cock appear, it was already fully erect and you moaned at the sight you saw. He was dripping wet and you didn't think you would see something so beautiful. You couldn’t wait to have it totally inside your mouth, just like you dreamed for a long time.

“This is all for me?” You asked, grabbing his cock and moving it up and down with your hand, and you bit your lip when you saw Mason close his eyes.

“Yeah, just like that, Y/n.” He moaned as you increased your movements. “I wanna feel your mouth all over my dick.” You got hornier when you saw him wanting to feel your mouth on his cock, and you wanted to feel it as much as he did.

You got up and got out of bed, then asked Mason to sit on the edge of the bed while you knelt on the floor. Thank goodness your hair was tied back in a ponytail.

Mason's mouth fell open as he watched you kneeling for him, so when you came closer and put his cock in your mouth, he moaned and lay back down on the mattress. You put everything in your mouth and started making back and forth movements, and what your mouth couldn't reach, you used your hands. You took your mouth off and left long licks along the length, Mason moaned low and hoarse and it was so sexy that you got completely wet.

“Oh..fuck… just like that.”

Mason leaned back on the bed and propped himself up with his elbows as he made eye contact with you. You didn't look away for a second as you took his hard cock into your mouth and continued your movements. Mason brought a hand to your tied hair and held it, controlling the movements the way he wanted.

“Y/N, I’m so fucking close…” He moaned, and you held his thighs, and the other hand you took to his balls, gently caressing. Mason had lost control, he was moaning loudly now as you sucked his cock hard. You saw him shudder and throw his head back.

“I’m cuming” he warned you and you sped up your movements, wanting to make him cum in your mouth. “Ohh… fuck.. fuck.”

Mason came in your mouth, and as he moaned and sighed, his breathing quickened, you swallowed all of his cum. Mason was still spasming when you stood up and took off your panties, sitting on him right after that. Mason moaned as you ground your hips against his sensitive cock, and you leaned in to kiss him as you made him taste himself and you moved your hips to turn him on again.

“I wanna fuck you so bad” Mason murmured into the kiss, then brought a hand to your wet pussy, making you moan. “And I wanna lick this pussy that is dripping for me, I wanna make you scream for me.”

Mason brought his thumb to your clit and pressed, so you sighed and rolled your hips against his hand.

“You can do that, but now I just wanna feel your cock inside me.” You groaned and pulled his hand away, rubbing your pussy in his hard and dripping cock. “I want to ride your dick, Mase.”

“Fuck- yes.” Mason almost begged, so you held his cock in your hand to direct it to your slick folds. You rode his cock and you both moaned loudly, Mason held your waist as you got used to his big, thick cock inside you. “You're so tight.”

“Oh, Mase, it feels so good.” You moaned and began to grind on him, back and forth, pressing your clit against his skin, and up and down. Mason was lying on the bed and you placed your hands on his chest to make it easier to move, then you closed your eyes when you felt Mason's hand on your ass, helping you move up and down. “Oh, fuck.”

“So fucking good, this pussy is so good for me.”

You found that you loved having Mason talk nonsense to you. You found that you loved having Mason talk dirty to you, and he noticed when you moaned when he praised you and you sped up your movements.

You spent a few minutes riding Mason, he was moaning and it was making you hornier, then he grabbed you and pulled you along in a second, making you lie on your side in bed. Mason lay behind you and pulled you against his chest, holding your leg up as he brought his cock down to your pussy. You moaned as he filled you again, laying your head back on the pillow and feeling his warm, sweaty body against your back.

“Oh, yeah, yeah…” Mason held your hair and fucked you from behind, he made quick movements and you looked ready to explode. You never imagined it would be this good.

The effect of the alcohol had worn off, but now you were drunk on Mason. All that was going through your head was him, Mason fucking you, Mason kissing you, Mason holding you against him, Mason whispering how hot you were, how tight you were and that he wanted to cum inside you.

All of this exploded inside you and you felt the orgasm hitting you, moaning his name over and over as he fucked you harder. Mason pressed you against him and he moaned in your ear, and you felt that he had reached his orgasm too. You could feel his cum inside you as you let your head fall back onto the pillow, eyes closed and breathing heavily.

Mason was spreading kisses across your neck and you were still moaning softly, he made a few more movements and soon pulled out of you, leaving you empty. You haven't had sex with someone like that in a long time. You haven't had an orgasm like that in years.

“It was so good.” You said, bringing a hand to Mason's hair, who was still behind you. He was gently caressing your belly, breathing as heavily as you.

“It really was, but I'm not done with you yet.” He said, biting the skin on your neck and probably leaving a mark. You turned to Mason, you were sensitive but wanted more, and he seemed to want the same. You kissed him again and Mason brought his hands to your thighs, squeezing.

Voices were heard on the first floor and you remembered Ayla and Robert, so you moved away from Mason, but he didn't let you get away.

“Shh, forget them.” Mason whispered, then kissed you again. “Sit on my face.”

“What?” You asked, not sure if you heard his request correctly.

“Sit on my face, I wanna lick all over this beautiful pussy.” He spoke and brought his hand to his cock, moving it up and down as he pulled you close to his face. “Do that for me.”

You could get lost in his tongue licking you as you gripped the headboard and let Mason drive you crazy.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

You woke up and slowly remembered what happened during the night, so you woke up scared when you realized that you had sex with Mason. Mason was sleeping next to you and with his back to you, you didn't even know where your clothes were and you had slept naked next to him, who was also naked.

It was a lot to process.

The house was quiet and you figured Ayla and Robert were still sleeping since they arrived after you, but you and Mason went to sleep when the sun was almost up after countless rounds of sex. In the end, you couldn't blame the alcohol anymore, you were having sex because you wanted to and you wondered if this wouldn't end your friendship.

You got up quietly so as not to wake Mason, then looked for your panties that were thrown on the floor. Where was your dress? You found Mason's shirt and put it on only to run to your room, then left slowly and without making any noise.

You took a shower and put on your gym clothes, then while everyone was sleeping, you went for a walk and checked out the beautiful street where Mason lives. The houses were huge and beautiful, you would love to live in one of these mansions.

But the whole way you wondered what would happen between the two of you from now. You liked Mason and things were sure to change now that you spent a night having sex with him, but how did he feel? He said something about wanting to do this for a while, but was he serious or was it because he was drunk?

Your feelings for Mason had been there for a while, especially because he was great with Olivia and loved her, loved her as much as you did. Olivia loved him too, she always talked about Uncle Mason with a lot of love, but what if that took him away from her? There were a lot of questions and you didn't have the answers, so after thirty minutes of walking, you decided to go back.

You entered the house and saw your dress thrown on the floor, so you ran and picked it up from the floor, going upstairs and putting the dress in your suitcase before anyone saw.

Ayla was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, and you quickly went to help her. She looked at you and smiled mischievously, but you tried to ignore her smile as you helped her cut some fruit.

“Great night, uh?” She asked and tried to look innocent, but you knew she wanted to laugh at you.

“Stop trying to embarrass me.”

“Tell me everything, please, I’m your best friend.” She practically begged, while stirring the pancake batter.

“We had sex, that’s it, but I don’t have anything to tell you because I don’t know what will happen with me and Mason now.”

“I always thought you guys liked each other, to be honest, but you never talked about it with me.”

“What?” You were confused. How come she thought you liked each other?

“Just look at the way you look at each other, how you talk.”

“I don't know, it's complicated, I think all this happened when I stayed at his house after getting pregnant.”

“He was there for you, wasn't he?”

“Yeah, and I think I developed a crush on him, but I had some boyfriends, he has many women and we were never single at the same time.”

“But now you are.”

“I know, but that doesn't mean anything, he might think I'm the same as the women he sleeps with for one night. Maybe things will stay the same.”

“Things may change between you now.”

“I know, but I would never take him away from Olivia. She loves him.”

“And do you love him?” You were quiet for a few seconds.

“I know I love him, but I don't know in what way.”

Ayla didn't answer you and you arranged the table for you two to have breakfast. It was almost noon and you were starving. You were returning to London tomorrow, and it was a cloudy Saturday in Manchester, even though the day was a little warm because of the summer.

“Morning” Mason spoke hoarsely as he entered the kitchen. Robert walked in soon after, and the two of them sat at the table with tired faces.

“Good morning, ladies.” Ayla Ayla joked with them, smiling. You looked at Mason and you were embarrassed to see him staring at you too, and you felt your face red as you remembered everything you did the night before.

He just gave you an indifferent smile, grabbing some coffee and drinking it quietly. You put the fruit on the table and Ayla put the pancakes on, then the two of you sat down and drank coffee in silence, all of you too tired to talk.

“I saw a dress thrown in the living room when we arrived, did you lose your clothes, Y/N?” Robert asked a while later, making you blush once more and almost choke on the piece of banana you were eating. “What happened between you two yesterday?”

“We-”

“Nothing.”

It was Mason who answered. You didn't answer Robert anymore and looked at Mason, questioning his answer. Did you imagine that Mason might act differently after having sex with you, but pretend nothing happened? What kind of guy is he?

Him pretending nothing happened hurt more than you thought. Was he embarrassed to tell people you had sex? It would be easier if he told you he never wanted to do it again.

“Nothing, uh?” You asked and he gulped. “Asshole.”

You pushed the plate away and got up from the chair, leaving the kitchen towards your room as you heard Ayla calling you. You ignored her and went upstairs, wanting to be alone for a few minutes.

You closed the door and looked for your cell phone, maybe talking to Olivia for a bit would calm you down. But you got nervous when you saw several missed calls from your mum, so you called her, who answered on the first ring.

“Hey mum, everything’s okay?”

“Honey, stay calm, but Olivia had an allergic reaction to a candy we bought at the park yesterday and I took her to the hospital-”

“What?” You panicked when you heard the word hospital.

“She is in the emergency room and the doctors are with her there, I'm sorry honey, please forgive me.” Your mom started crying on the phone and you panicked, so you ran to your suitcase to start packing your things.

“Mom, I want to know if she's going to be okay.” You said as you threw your clothes inside, running to the bathroom and taking everything off.

“I don’t know, no one says anything to me. Please forgive me.” She sobbed and you started crying in fear. This trip was the worst idea you ever had, you wouldn't be mad at Mason if you hadn't come and everything would be normal, and most importantly, your daughter would be safe at home and well.

“I'm heading back to London now, call me when you hear anything.”

“I will. I love you.” You wiped away your tears but it was in vain, because you were so scared that you couldn't stop crying. You did all this quickly, wanting to catch the next train to London. You don't know what to do if something happens to Olivia. She's your whole world, you discovered life through her, and thinking that she's in the hospital without you makes you feel guilty.

“Y/N, listen, I don’t- where are you going?” Mason walked into the room, but stopped when he saw that your bags were packed and you were crying.

“I’m going back to London.” You said, grabbing your bag and suitcase, walking to leave the room and not wanting to talk to Mason.

“Are you serious? You're not going to let me say anything?” He held your arm and stopped you from leaving.

“Mason, I don’t fucking care about you and what you want to say, my daughter is in the hospital and I need to go back to London.” You pulled your arm and Mason let go of you, you ran downstairs and he followed you, calling you.

“What? Olivia is in the hospital? Why?” He looked worried, and when you arrived in the room, Ayla and Robert heard and were worried too.

“What happened?” Ayla asked and walked over to you, worried when she saw how much you were crying.

“I don’t know, my mother said that they bought some candy at the park yesterday and when she ate that today, she had an allergic reaction.” You sobbed, putting your hands over your eyes and feeling the fear, the guilt, the panic hit you all at once. “She’s in the emergency room and no one says anything to my mum, she doesn't know how she is. She couldn't breathe, my little girl.”

“It’s okay, she’ll be fine.” Ayla said, but you denied.

“I shouldn't have come here, I'm going back to London now, you guys stay here, I'll call and let you know how she is.”

“We’ll go with you.” Ayla said.

“No, I want to catch the next train.” You looked at Robert. “Can you take me to the station?”

“I'll take you.” Mason spoke, and he was pale, probably worried about Olivia too.

“No.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Hey, bunny.” You said when Olivia woke up, relieved to see your little girl back to normal. “Mum is here.”

You arrived in London an hour ago and went straight to the hospital. Your mother apologized to you several times when you arrived, crying, but you assured her that it wasn't her fault, because even you didn't know that Olivia could have an allergic reaction to a candy.

The doctor explained that she was fine, and that the allergic reaction was caused by a type of nut she ate. You cried when you entered the room and saw her sleeping peacefully, and for an hour you admired Olivia sleeping, thanking God and the doctors that she was okay.

Olivia seemed scared of the room, but when you sat down next to her and held her hand, she calmed down. Her lips began to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. You couldn't hold it in, and began to cry when you saw her sad.

“I couldn't breathe, mum.” She sobbed, and you bent down and hugged her, smelling the strawberry scent of her favorite perfume. “My throat hurt a lot.”

“I know, babe, I know. I promise I'll never leave you alone again, okay? Do you forgive your mummy?” You spoke softly to her, and she nodded, leaving a kiss on your cheek. “My sweet girl, I was so scared.”

You couldn't stop crying for a while, but now it was from relief to see her okay, and you just wanted to take her home and hug her for hours.

“Don’t cry, mommy.” She said, placing her small hands on your cheeks and pulling your lips into a fake smile. “Big girls don’t cry.”

“You're right, but it's okay to cry sometimes, especially when I know my little girl is fine.”

“I'll never eat candy again, mum. I was so scared.” She confessed and you smiled sadly at her, hugging her once more. “I wanna go home.”

“We're going home soon, okay?”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“And how are you feeling now?” You heard Mason ask Olivia while you were washing some dishes from dinner, Olivia was sitting at the counter and answered the phone when Mason called.

It was already Sunday, Ayla and Robert had already returned to London and went to visit Olivia when they arrived. Mason had sent you a few messages, but you didn't reply to any of them and only answered the call because your daughter answered.

“I'm fine, uncle Masey, I just cried a little yesterday because my throat was sore.” You smiled at what she said, but Olivia looked better than ever.

“I was worried about you, but I'm so glad you're okay.” He spoke and you sighed. You don't know how you're going to act with Mason after what he said to you, but it's the first time you've thought about it since yesterday, because your biggest concern was Olivia and not his lack of sense. “Can you pass the phone to your mum?”

“Yes, I'm going to watch the Moana movie now.” She spoke and walked over to you, still looking at Mason on the video call, who smiled at her. “Bye uncle Mase, I love you.”

“Bye bye, pumpkin, I love you too.” He said goodbye and she blew him a kiss, handing you your cell phone and running back to the living room to watch.

“I'm listening.” You spoke and turned off the camera so Mason wouldn't see you, just hear you, so he turned off his camera too.

“Can we talk?”

“I have nothing to talk to you Mason, you've already made it clear that nothing happened.”

“That’s not what-” You interrupted him.

“I really hope from the bottom of my heart that you don't act towards the other girls the same way you did towards me, because I'm going to feel so sorry for them for having to deal with this jerk that you are.”

“Can you hear me? You won't let me speak.” Mason retorted, irritated.

“Go fuck yourself, Mason.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“I think you're being a bit harsh on Mason.” Ayla spoke one week later. “I mean, I spoke to him this week and he's feeling bad, you didn't let him explain himself.”

“Are you going to defend him?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows and looking at your friend. You could hear Olivia and Robert's laughter in the room as they played along with Olivia's word game.

“I'm not defending him, but I've heard some things and I think you should listen to him too.”

“Well, I’m not. I don't want to talk about it anymore.”

“Okay, but are you going to end a friendship of years because of one night?”

“Yeah, one night he fucked me until the sun came up and then acted like he didn't do anything. If I had done that, I'd be a slut, wouldn't I? He's just like everyone else, he would never date someone who is a single mother and puts her daughter first.”

“You know you're going down the wrong path, but I'm not going to pressure you, it's not my problem.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

Olivia was lying on the couch sleeping after you watched both Lion King movies. You valued the idea of making your daughter watch old Disney movies and discover the good side of life.

Three days later and you were still thinking about what Ayla had said, but Mason didn't call, didn't text and didn't even want to know about Olivia. She asked for him twice, but you said he was busy and couldn't talk to her.

You were still hurt by him, and the biggest disappointment was that he acted in front of your best friends like you meant nothing, when one night with him meant so much to you. And you were right, things changed after having sex with him. You thought about him and despite the disappointment, you remembered his touch and how good it felt to have him kissing you and whispering compliments to you.

And the passion returned even with the pain. You didn't think that one day you would have something with Mason and that's why your feelings were left aside, but now you don't know how to deal with what's inside you.

You were lost in thought as you caressed Olivia's legs and it took you a while to realize that you had a voicemail received on your phone. It was Mason's.

It was a long audio and your heart raced before you even heard what he was saying, but you got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to listen and not wake Olivia.

“Hey… hum… I don’t know how to say this to you but… I’m drunk, if you haven't noticed… but I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. I know I haven't spoken to you in a few days, I know I fucked up, but I never meant to say that to humiliate you or make you sad. I just thought it would embarrass you if I said we had sex, because you don't like to talk about things like that in front of people, but I made the wrong decision.”

The audio was quiet for a while, but you could hear Mason breathing.

“It was the best sex of my life, just for you to know.” He chuckled to himself as he talked. “I've dreamed about this for years, since we were teenagers actually. I remember I wanted to tell you this because I thought you were in love with me too, but then you got pregnant and you were so sad that I thought I shouldn't put any more pressure on you. You lived with me for months and every night I dreamed of sleeping next to you, but you had another priority.”

A tear ran down your cheek and you wiped it away.

“I love Olivia, God, I love her so much I could cry, and I know you love her more than anything, but I wish... I wish you had some of that love for me too.”

You gasped.

“I know you think I date a lot of women, but that's because we've always had our disagreements. After Olivia was born, you started dating that idiot Peter, so I thought I should move on and I met Rory. When you broke up, I was dating, and then you met that Luke guy and I was single. Have you noticed that this is the first time in years that we've both been single at the same time?”

“I've been talking for a long time, sorry to bother you now, but that's it, I just wanted to vent to you. I hope you forgive me for what I said, and even, I don't know, if you don't want anything to do with me, I want to continue being your best friend. You are my best friend, Olivia is one of the best things I have and it's a gift that you gave me.”

“Forgive me, really. I love you, I will always love you. I'm sorry if I said something stupid, the last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

You cried. You don't even remember when you started crying, but you cried so much and you don't know if it was seconds, minutes or an hour. Olivia appeared in the kitchen and hugged you, and you cried as you held her in your arms. She didn't understand anything, but she stroked your hair the same way you did every time she fell and hurt herself.

“Why are you crying, mummy?” She whispered as you held her against your chest. “I don't like to see you cry.”

“I heard something that made me emotional, that's all.” You smiled at her, but she still looked suspicious.

“Big girls don’t cry, mum.” She brought her hand to your cheek and pulled, forcing a smile onto your lips, the same way she did in the hospital.

“Big girls cry, pumpkin, everyone cries.” You murmured to her, leaving a kiss on her cheek. “Crying is good, no one can keep everything here.” You pointed at her heart, and she giggled at the tickle.

“Uncle Masey calls me pumpkin.” She laughed and you carried her to the bedroom with you, just wanting to sleep next to your daughter to feel safe for one night. She was your safe, loving place where you felt good.

“I know…” You spoke and laid her on the bed. “What do you think about the two of us going to visit uncle Mase?”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Can I buy this one too?” Olivia asked as you walked around the Manchester United store before the game. You had been walking around Manchester since arriving in the morning, and Olivia decided that she wanted a new team cap and shirt.

“You don't need a coat, it's hot.” You said and she pouted, but put the coat with the number 7 back on the shelf. “We have to go now, Lewis is waiting for us.”

“Can I call uncle Mason and wish him good luck with the match? I don't want them to lose.”

“Yesterday you told me that you are still a Chelsea fan.” You poked her nose as you both walked towards the cashier to pay for the things she picked out.

“I've changed my mind, I support uncle Mason and the team he plays for.” She said and crossed her arms as she waited for you to pay. Olivia smiled at the cashier.

“Is Mason Mount your favorite player?” The lady asked Olivia.

“Yes, he is my godfather and my mother's best friend.” She replied and took the bag the woman handed her after you swiped your credit card. The woman looked at you and you nodded and smiled at her, holding Olivia's hand. “Thank you so much, have a nice day.”

“Thank you, you are very polite and kind.” Olivia was embarrassed by the compliment, so you thanked the saleswoman again and said goodbye, then you and Olivia headed towards the entrance of Old Trafford.

You soon entered, and there were already many people waiting for the match to start. Olivia was used to the games because of Chelsea, as you took her to a lot of games to support Mason. You met Lewis, who was the one who helped you with the tickets without telling Mason, because you and Olivia decided it would be a surprise, but you're scared because you don't know what his reaction will be.

You weren't in the family box, but a little above the reserve players' bench. Olivia was excited and you were excited to see her talking to Lewis about getting a dog, which she's been asking for for months.

The players came onto the field for warm-ups and Olivia tried in vain to wave to Mason, but he hadn't seen her yet and she felt sad when she waved and he didn't wave back.

“Why doesn't he wave at me?” She asked sadly, and you and Lewis had to explain that he hadn't seen her because there were so many people there.

Olivia gave up waving because Mason started warming up, but she didn't take her eyes off him for a moment. And neither did you. Mason was focused on what he had to do, and you tried to look away from his strong arms and legs that were on display, but everything about him caught your attention and you were almost drooling in the middle of everyone else.

Ten minutes later the players started to leave and Olivia stood up, shouting and waving at Mason and trying to get his attention. Just as he was about to go inside to change his uniform, she called out again and you could tell Mason was looking for the familiar voice. Lewis raised an arm to wave and Mason saw him, then he smiled when he noticed Olivia and finally you.

Mason needed to go to the locker room, but his smile when he saw you there cheering for him made you excited and hopeful. Olivia celebrated when he saw her and he waved at her, then she blew a kiss to him, who pretended to catch it and blew another kiss to her.

“He saw me, mum.” She said happily and sat on your lap, Lewis smiled at the two of you and said something about her being Mason's favorite fan.

The game started and you noticed that Mason looked at you every chance he got, and you smiled shyly when he looked at you, remembering the things he said in the audio he sent you, about ten days ago.

After fifteen minutes, the opposing team scored a goal and Olivia was sad when she realized that few people in the stadium celebrated.

“Olivia, there's still a lot of time left in the game, they're going to win.” Lewis murmured to her, trying to make her feel better.

You weren't confident at Manchester United in the first half, but after the break the team improved and tried to score more goals than in the first half. You could see the moment the ball reached Mason's feet and he kicked it hard, it hit the goalkeeper's hand but went into the goal, making the entire stadium scream for his goal. You picked Olivia up so she could see the celebration and she was screaming Mason's name, happier than you had ever seen her.

Mason ran towards where you were and made the letter “O” with his hands, and Olivia smiled when she realized it was the initial of her name.

“Was it for me?” She asked, blushing.

“Yes, uncle Mason scored a goal for you.” You kissed her cheek and placed her on the chair next to you.

Olivia confessed that she wished Garnacho had also made the letter O when he scored Manchester United's second goal, but you had to explain that he didn't because he didn't know her, which made her roll her eyes at him. After the game, Lewis told you that you would have to go with him to Mason's house because Mason needed to go back with the team and pick up his car in Carrington.

An hour later Olivia had already looked at every room in Mason's house, played with Ace for a long time and ate the cookies she found in the cupboard and Lewis allowed her to eat. It was already past her bedtime, so when she lay down on the couch, she fell asleep within minutes, unable to wait for Mason.

You and Lewis were talking in the kitchen, and Mason arrived a few minutes later, smiling when he realized you were still there. Lewis congratulated Mason on the game but said he was tired and would go to his room, leaving you alone with Mason in the kitchen. You were embarrassed and didn't know what to do, so you smiled at him, who smiled and came closer.

“So, what a great surprise to have you here.” He said and you nodded, hugging him and sighing when he held you close to him.

“Sorry for coming unannounced, Olivia wanted to surprise you.”

“She is snoring on the couch and her feet are dirty.”

“She had fun today.”

“And you? Did you like the game?” Mason asked, you felt his hand on your waist and you put your arms around his neck, making him smile even more.

“It was actually pretty cool, but I'm about to find out if the day can get any better.”

“Do you want to tell me something?” Mason pretended to be serious, so you moved closer and kissed his lips. It was a soft kiss, just a small touch, before you pulled away and faced him.

“I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you that day, and I didn't let you explain yourself, but Olivia was in the hospital, I was stressed and scared and I took it out on you.” Mason nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but you placed a finger over his lips. “I've thought a lot about that audio you sent me drunk, and I hope everything you said there is true because I feel the same way. I always kept these feelings inside me because I thought I was the only one who felt something, I never realized that you felt something for me too.”

You spoke and Mason lowered his head to kiss your neck, but you still had a lot to say.

“I know things can be complicated because I have Olivia and she's my priority, and you need to think about that Mason, because I'm a single mom, you can have any woman in the world who doesn't have kids and I don't want to let her down if things don't work out.”

“You know I don't care about that, I love that little girl as much as I love my nieces and nephews, I love her like a part of me.” He said. “I've never been as sure of anything as I am of the two of us.”

“We take it slow, because it involves a lot more than just the two of us.”

“Yeah, yeah… You two can move in next week, and we'll set our wedding date for next month. It's slow.”

“Stop being silly.” You laughed and Mason smiled too, then he kissed you.

It was a passionate kiss and for the first time you realized that all your feelings for Mason had never died, and you were more than willing to show him all of that.

“We'll be fine, the three of us. I'll make you both happy.” Mason whispered, kissing your forehead.

“You promise?”

“Pinky promise, Olivia taught me.” You and he crossed your fingers, sealing the promise.

“We need to think about how to tell her this, but I think she'll be happy.”

“Because she loves me very much, I am her favorite uncle.”

“I can't deny it, because I know she loves you.” You walked into the living room and stopped next to Olivia lying on the couch, with Ace sleeping next to her.

“My girls. I can't even believe this is all real.”

“I don't want to wake up if it's a dream.”

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beccarodeupontheafternoontrain · 4 months

Text

Guest in the Relationship

Damian Wayne x reader

Word count: 3024

Summary: Damian keeps forgetting about your dates and this night is the final straw

Warnings: mugging, some violence, slight angst and unedited

Part 2

First work I’ve written in a long time so constructive criticism is welcomed, but please be kind and I hope you enjoy :)

I looked at the clock on my bedside table. 7:34. It had been over an hour since Damian was supposed to pick me up for our date. I'd been discussing how much I wanted to see this film for months at this point - ever since the first promo trailer dropped. The tickets I had bought for opening night went unused in my desk drawer from another date Damian had forgotten or been late to.

The number of dates planned but gone uncompleted seemed insurmountable now, endless even. In the year and a half I'd been dating Damian I had gotten used to the constant family emergencies, other plans he had or straight up just him forgetting you had plans in the first place. Damian always apologised profusely afterwards and I had always forgiven him. It was a non-problem. Yes it hurt and was annoying, but it wasn't till recently his inability to prioritise you had become a problem. Jon had gotten himself a boyfriend, a boyfriend who showed up to every date early bearing gifts for Jon. I was beyond happy my best friend had finally found himself someone, but a green lens always covered my vision when he told me about how perfect his relationship was. Especially when he mentioned how him and his boyfriend had gone to see the film I seemed to have mentioned in nearly every sentence I'd spoken as of recent. To top the cake this conversation occurred at a friend lunch date which Damian cancelled going to last minute because of a 'family emergency'. I refused to think about what or rather who a family emergency was. I glanced at the clock again, 7:43. If I didn't leave soon I'd miss the film, again, I wasn't going to waste anymore cinema tickets. With a sigh I braced myself and my heart for once again doing something alone that I was supposed to, should be doing with Damian.

The film had barely reached the halfway point when I finally decided to leave the screen. The vice grip holding my heart captive was too much to handle, the pain was making me physically sick. The film was just as good as Jon had said, I just wished Damian was there to see it with me or had at least replied to one of my texts asking where he was. My heart hurt so much from the disappointment of not only missing Damian, but also from not being able to enjoy the film i'd been waiting for, for so long. Did I really mean so little to Damian? Surely he would have broken up with me by now if he had no interest in me. But then why did we barely see each other anymore, I couldn't even recall the last time we saw each other outside of school. Maybe he just didn't know how to break up with me. My heart burned just at the thought he didn't want me anymore. Tears started rushing down my face, harder than before. I couldn't walk back into the screen like this, I just needed to go back to my house. Despite the 45 minutes in the dark it would take, I decided to walk home, I couldn't bear the idea of anyone on the bus giving me funny looks for crying. I should have really performed a risk assessment before walking around Gotham at night, but I was too focused on trying to calm my heavy breathing and halt my tears.

My steps sped up when my front door became visible, I really just wanted to sleep. I was too distracted to notice the balaclava clad man who had been following me for two blocks already. He grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth to prevent me from screaming for help and pulled me into the closest alleyway. I knew a bruise was going to form from where he shoved me against the wall. My tear's amplified significantly, this was quite frankly the worst time I could be mugged. A knife found its way against my neck "empty your pockets." his words were slow and clear - no fear of being caught by one of the many vigilantes who called Gotham their home. "I don't have anything." Any attempts I was making to appear strong to the man in front of me failed miserably due to the cracking of my voice. My never ending crying from past hour and a bit had done me no favours. The mugger placed the knife more firmly against my neck "I won't repeat myself again" his lips were so close to grazing my ear "empty your pockets." I couldn't see any clear escape from this situation, I needed to try and diffuse it. "Please, I really don't have anything!" My voice was considerably louder and more firm this time. I could feel the edge of the knife slowly cutting into the skin of my neck. Where was the obnoxious bird inspired superhero when you needed him. He always seemed to be lurking around your neighbourhood, so why now was he failing to grace you with his presence. The mugger pushed me further against the wall, hard, so hard I could feel the brickwork through my raincoat. He pushed one hand into my pockets while the other kept the knife placed at my throat. The man got increasingly angered as spare change, my film ticket and a piece of gum fell to the floor. When he finally took my phone out of my pocket, I could tell there was a low chance of me escaping this encounter unscathed. My 5 year old iPhone would barely get him enough money to buy a meal at Bamonte's. The man's body language caused my heart even faster I feared it might actually leave my body. I had never seen someone so angry. He grabbed my face with both hands, the roughness of his hands could leave cuts on my skin themselves. His grip became impossibly tighter on my face in order for him to smash my face into the brick behind. A loud pained yelp escaped my lips. Pleads begging someone would help invade my mind - bird themed hero or neighbour, anyone. The man stepped back, twirling his knife in his hand, staring at me like he was contemplating what to do next. I screamed. It was the only option I had left, there were no other means to escape this situation. There was no way I could overpower this man, especially when he was wielding a knife he'd already cut me with. All I could do was scream for help and pray someone would hear me.

Luckily for me and unfortunately for the man in front of me, a caped shadow appeared from behind the man. Relief possessed my body as I watched the mugger be knocked out. Where moments prior rough hands gripped my face, now gloved hands cradle my cheeks. Jade green eyes analysing my face in a silent question. A question I was not yet ready to answer. Instead I wrapped my arms around Robin's shoulders burying my head in the crook of his neck, the phrase thank you becoming my mantra. Me and Robin had only stumbled across each other a handful of times previously, usually on a late night walk of mine where he started off by lecturing me of the dangers of walking around alone at night and ended with us stargazing on my fire escape discussing our secrets.

I am unsure what happened over the next few minutes, shock and tears overtook my body. All I am sure of is that Robin held me throughout it all. He let me stay holding him, kissing my temple and stroking my hair, reassuring me everything was okay now. When I finally felt like I could breathe again, I removed my head from where it rested against Robin's shoulder so I could look at him "I'm sorry." I said, my voice reverting back to its hoarse quiet mess as a result of my crying. He shook his head at me, removing the remnants of my tears with his fingers. "There's no need to be sorry." I hesitantly smile at him "I guess I should have listened more to your lectures." My attempt at brightening the mood fails when Robin doesn't reciprocate my smile. "I need you to promise me that you'll never walk alone at night again." His greens pleaded with me to listen to him as he continued even more seriously. "If I hadn't gotten there when I had" Robin cuts himself off, looking away from me and swallowed harshly. "I need you to promise me so I know you're safe. I might not always be there to protect you." When he finally looked back at me the desperation in his eyes was clear as day. I presented him with my pinky "I promise." His bodily visibly relaxed in front of me as he joined our pinkies together.

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked Robin. "Nearly half 10. Why?" He seemed genuinely baffled as why that would be the first proper thing I thought about after the type of attack I just endured. "Do you know where my phone is?" I chose to ignore his confusion. Robin looked at the floor, searching for where the mugger had dropped my phone. Fortunately, bar a few scratches to the screen, my phone had survived the attack. I had two notifications, one from my mum which arrived before the attack asking for my ETA and another from Jon asking if me and Damian enjoyed the film. No messages from Damian. None. It had been over 4 hours since we were supposed to meet. I could feel the tears start to well back up in my eyes. This wasn't the first time he hadn't responded to my messages, but it had never happened at a time where I really needed him. I needed to go home and I didn't mean the building across the road. I needed to be in Damien's arms.

I looked towards Robin who was collecting my belongings from where the man had dropped them on the pavement. I wanted to escape this situation now. Taking a breath in an attempt to contain my tears, I watched as Robin paused when he picked up my film ticket from the ground an almost incoherent curse coming from his mouth. "I really need to get home now." My teeth clenched, I was so close to crying again. I refuse to cry in front of Robin again tonight. "Thank you so much for everything." Robin opened his mouth as if to respond but I turned around before he could speak a word, practically sprinting to my front door. I just needed to hide in my bed from the world for a while. Too much had happened in such a short space of time. I needed to debate what to do about the whole Damian situation and process the attack I just experienced.

Two hours later and my phone had not stopped buzzing. Damian had been calling and messaging me non-stop to apologise and ask if I'm okay. While all I wanted was for him to hold me and make me feel safe again, how could that happen when I felt like a guest in our relationship. I know I needed to message him to reassure him I was okay and that I just needed time, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Taylor Swift was blasting through my headphones so it was no surprise I didn't hear the knock at my window, or the second, or the third or when the red caped vigilante entered my room. I only noticed him when the duvet protecting me from the rest of the world was removed around my head.

"Hey." Robin seemed nervous. He was never nervous. I sat up in my bed curious as to not only why he was here but also to why he looked so nervous. "Hi." My voice sounded stronger than it had the last time we spoke. He pushed a small rectangular piece of paper into my hands, it was the film ticket I'd left with him before. I looked up at him, tilting my head in confusion. "I just came to return this." His speech was hurried. "And to make sure you're okay of course." I'd thought nothing could ruffle the feathers of this bird, but seemingly I was wrong and I needed to get to the bottom of why he was acting so weirdly. I decided to answer him truthfully. "Apart from the cut to my neck and the probably never ending trauma, I'd say I'm doing okay considering." Robin's eyes flew to my neck, he hadn't noticed the cut till now. "It's really nothing, I'm okay, I swear." I patted the bed next to me as an offer for him to sit, but also in an effort to eradicate the new found fury on Robin's face. Turning to Robin I say "now why don't you tell me what's wrong with you." Robin's anger quickly turns back into apprehension, but his eyes never leave the small cut on my neck. "I don't know what you mean." He replies, words slightly slower than before. I roll my eyes at him, I repeat myself . He's short with his response "nothing." There was no way I was letting this boy leave my room without a proper explanation. "So you go to every damsels room after you rescue them then?" Robins quick response of no was partnered with a shake of the head so familiar to me. Odd. "Then why come visit me after?" Robin was stumped by this question, constantly opening his mouth to answer before closing it again. He finally settled on an answer. "You seemed upset about something else other than the incident earlier" he looked me in the eyes before continuing, god they looked so similar to my favourite pair. Obviously missing Damian was making me look for him in places he had no right being. "As somewhat friends I wanted to see what I could do to help." I'd blanked out half of what Robin had said with my thoughts of Damian. If I was going to get to the bottom of why Robin was acting so weirdly I needed to tell him the truth first. "In all honesty" I started, hands playing with the Wolf teddy given to me by Damian "I'm having some relationship trouble and I don't know what to do about it." Robin's back got impossibly straighter "Problems?" He said through gritted teeth, like he was in pain. "What kind of problems?" I gripped the Wolf harder "I don't think my boyfriend loves me anymore." Tears started to fall down my cheeks as Robin sucked in a breath next to me. He looked just as shell shocked as I felt admitting the fact out loud. Robin placed his arm over my shoulders and drew comforting circles on my arm. "What makes you think that?" Robin seemed to really struggle to ask the question, I found it even harder to answer. "I'm not a priority to him anymore, if I ever was. He's constantly creating excuses not to see or talk to me. Damian is keeping so many secrets from me and there's never ending lies." Tears were falling freely from my eyes now, I didn't care if Robin saw them anymore. Robin was shaking his head, but I finished my ramble about mine and Damian's relationship before he could get a word in "I think there may be another girl." Robin looked stricken, panicked, immediately voicing his disagreement with my conclusion. "I can assure you that is not the case at all" his hands are on my face, trying to get me to look at him but I keep my gaze averted. "How would you know?" Venom tainted my voice. I didn't want to be mean but how on Earth would Robin of all people know of Damian's feelings. Robin called my name, desperation plaguing his words. When I still didn't look at him, too angry to dare, he called me by my nickname "Habibti."

My head whipped round to face Robin's. "What did you just call me?" Instead of answering me, he covered my hands with his and directed them towards his domino mask. "What are you doing?" I ask hesitantly "It's okay, Habibti." I slowly peel away the mask to reveal my boyfriend's face. "I can assure you that I do love you Beloved, more than anything." Damian moves my hands to cover his heart "I'm so sorry my actions have made it seem otherwise. You mean the world to me, Habibti." I moved away from him, sitting on the opposite side of the bed to him. "You lied to me." I said. This was obviously not the reaction Damian was hoping for because the calm that had passed over his face once I removed the mask had quickly turned back into panic. He said my name softly and tried to get closer to me. I clambered off the bed in an attempt to get away from him. "I think I need some time." Damian looked as if I'd just burnt down his whole word and moved towards me again. I retreated back a step, halting his movements and causing more anguish to paint his face. "No." I said "Damian, I need some time to think. Please give me that time." He simply nodded his head, fixed his mask back into position and left through my open window.

I chose to keep Damian's Gotham Academy Orchestra hoodie on as I slipped back into bed, cocooning myself in my duvet and replaying the scene that just occurred over and over again in my head. What was I going to do. What was I supposed to do. I grabbed my wolf teddy and clutched it tighter to my chest. I had no idea what the next move I was going to make was, but I knew I had to decide soon.

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #robin damian #dc robin #robin #damian x reader #angst #vigilante #dc comics #dc universe #damian wayne x reader

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cinnamoneve · 1 year

Text

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you offer to join gojo on a 8-hour roadtrip for work. as usual, it's a big deal to him. hope you're ready for eight hours with your sweet boyfriend! ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 2k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: gojo brainrot on the mind. i need to write about this man so bad. please enjoy ♡

no good deed goes unpunished.

the mantra repeats itself as you settle in for an eight hour car ride across the country for satoru’s work.

you offered to accompany him, after all. something about him driving solo for eight hours didn’t sit right with you–at least together, you could stop for meals and breaks, swap driving shifts, and keep each other company between the points of interest.

satoru, always the enthusiastic one, needed to make this an occasion in and of itself. since offering to join him, he’s made a point of cleaning the car, picking out your favorite snacks and goodies, curating a personal playlist, buying you a new cozy outfit to wear; it was all too much.

it’s almost like he was wired to be the best partner: if not, prove he is. small happenings became momentous occasions, outings became intricate dates, and everything was worth celebrating. no moment was too insignificant to find love and happiness in.

sometimes, you worry it’s just a big façade. that, at the end of the day, it’s just a big act in order to trick himself into finding joy in the simple things; to find catharsis in the mundane and silver lining in even the most normal situation. after knowing him for so long, it’s hard to read him. once you feel you’ve gotten a grip on him, he seems to trickle a little closer off the edge of understanding. you’re not one to prod.

no good deed goes unpunished.

satoru’s shift was first. you woke up early to hit the road so you’d be on location when he was needed–you’d hang around the town while he headed off to do whatever he had to. you didn’t mind the drive, and he didn’t mind the company. it was you, after all.

because of the early rise, the two of you barely had enough time to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. it was another night of him hogging the blankets, asking you meaningless questions right as you’re about to drift off to sleep (e.g. ‘what if all of my toes were as long as fingers? would you still love me the same?)–it was not a priority to get a full night’s sleep.

satoru’s hair was still messy. you practically had to drag him out of bed to brush his teeth and get ready for the day. unbeknownst to you, he bought himself a matching sweatsuit that is exactly the same as yours. seeing him walk out to the car was shocking, to say the least.

if you were told years ago that you’d be wearing matching sweatsuits with this man, you’d think it was a joke. tying him down to a committed relationship was a feat alone–everything else corny came natural to him.

satoru faked a shocked look when seeing you in the car, “well, one of us has to change.”

“it’s too early for this, satoru,” you laughed. the sun had barely kissed the horizon and you’ve had your first taste of his humor. you playfully punched his arm before putting on your seatbelt.

for the first 30 minutes of the drive, the two of you barely said any words to each other. it was an unspoken, yet always practiced routine for you in the morning: no matter what time you both get up. you’ll greet each other with a warm embrace and kiss, maybe cuddle for a little while in bed, but afterwards you don’t talk for a while. there’s a cooling period of waking up and preparing for the day–sometimes you just need a bit to get your bearings. between you two, it’s been in practice for a while. today was no exception.

“i guess you’d break up with me then, huh?”

satoru’s silence-breaking question makes you sit up in your seat and turn away from the window to look at him.

“what are you talking about?”

“you never answered my question last night. i think you’re just avoiding it because you’d break up with me.”

you can’t help but stare at him in shock. awe, even. you hadn’t noticed that your mouth was open, but you closed it quickly when you noticed.

satoru kept his eyes on the road. you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not–there’s a fat chance he was staring so intently at the road to not laugh.

“are you kidding?” you can’t help but ask innocently.

“no. it hurt my feelings a lot, actually.”

now you know he’s kidding.

“you’re an ass, satoru.”

“that’s still not an answer” he refused to let it go.

“hmm. well, if you need an answer, i think i'd make you custom shoes so you wouldn’t have to walk around barefoot. and i’d sew you really big socks to make sure your feet don’t get cold either. is that a good enough answer for you?”

satoru’s face grew into a grin at your notion, “yeah, that’s more than enough”

“what about you? what if i was the one with really long toes, would you still love me?”

you waited for a bit, expecting satoru to sweep in with his charm and knock the answer out of the park with some cheesy platitude.

he answered, “i think it would be hard.”

all you could do was dramatically sigh as he laughed.

satoru was just like that. he’d ask questions about any scenario and question your love or faith or trust in him. they’d be under the guise of a fun question, an icebreaker, or a conversation point. the catch was that he’d only time he’d ask them is in the wee hours of the night, when the world slows, and it’s just the two of you in the stillness of your apartment.

when the tables were turned on him, he’d deflect. rarely did he mean it though, he was just not the best at articulating how he really felt about it all. sometimes you wondered if these pointless questions were relationship checks with a deeper meaning; as if him having extra-long toes was indicative of the next fifty years of your lives together.

maybe in his mind, it was. even if you hated the idea of him having extra-long toes, even when you didn’t know how to make custom shoes, even if you couldn’t sew, or any meaningless task he propped up was not in your wheelhouse:it became part of your wheelhouse. you’d probably lasso the moon for him, if he asked.

the question wasn’t really about extra-long toes. just like your answer wasn’t really about shoes and socks. it was about what’s between the lines of his question and your sweet answer. satoru couldn’t care less about the consequences of anything, whether it be something as trivial as having extra-long toes. what he really was interested in and loved was the way you’d love and accept him no matter the hardship. you knew this, he knew this, but he’d continue to hide it under the guise of a question with no real substance. it’s just how he operated.

in reality, he would love you if you had extra-long toes or if you had no toes or if you were a worm or any other question you could ask. it all made him a little bashful, so he could only ever deflect it. often when he does this, he’ll say one thing and mean something else. you expected it, you loved it, and gladly took it with open arms.

two hours into the drive, satoru suggested grabbing a quick bite at the next town you pull into. you pulled over at some 24 hour mom-and-pop-type diner for some fuel. with some caffeine in both of your systems, the sun was peeking through the treetops to make its first appearance of the day as you were exiting the restaurant.

“do you want me to take over driving?” you offered while walking to the car.

“i don’t mind, i’m good to go for a bit more”

“you shouldn’t drive the whole way, satoru. i’m not going to let you.”

“whatever you say, beautiful,”

satoru sat back in the driver’s seat while you just rolled your eyes and smiled. he reset the gps and put on the ‘official’ road trip playlist.

it was a tasteful blend of just about everything–your favorite songs, his favorites, and ones you had discovered together that seemed to fit. the two of you chatted between singing it all together. selfishly, he’d put some of your favorite songs in there just to hear you sing them. and all he’d do is pretend he didn’t know the words, as if he didn’t commit them to his memory as soon as he could.

you shared snacks, exchanged stories, and talked like the two of you had an entire lifetime of news to catch up on. everything flowed so easily with him. you felt like you could live in this moment forever. secretly, you hoped you would. without any hardships, any fights or arguments, any time away from each other or things unsaid. the only struggle you’d ever face is wondering the next time satoru would ask you to feed him a pretzel.

by hour six, satoru had stopped singing entirely and went back to staring at the road in silence. getting the impression he was tired, you told him you had to stop to use the bathroom next time he saw a rest stop. you’d have to ambush him when he got out of the car to steal the driver's seat–you know his stubbornness would never relinquish it.

while he got out to stretch, you snuck in his seat and started moving the mirrors to get yourself situated. satoru caught you and tried to coerce you into sitting back on your own side, but failed miserably. all he could do was pout and put his seatbelt on.

for someone who fought against not driving, he passed out instantly. he settled into the chair under your very fuzzy blanket, turned on the heated seat, and kicked his shoes off. always the drama. there’s something amusing about the sight, but it was more endearing than anything.

it gives you a bit of time to get lost in your own thoughts and concentrate on the road ahead. literally and figuratively. what a privilege and honor it was for the love of your life to sleep soundly next to you, trusting you so much that he can let his guard down and be comfortable. seeing this side of him was always a treat. part of you wondered if he’d notice if you pulled over just to admire him.

you wanted him to sleep, rest up, gain his strength back, and feel well enough to take on the day. you would drive for hours if it meant he’d sleep just a little longer.

no good deed goes unpunished.

you had thought of this phrase earlier, wondering why you even offered to go with satoru if he was just going to ask a million questions about nothing truly meaningful. but what is ‘punishment?’ being loved unconditionally? is it fair to call that a punishment? sure, he asked them a mile a minute. he asked if you wanted to play “i spy” when there was nothing significant around. he made a joke about playing truth or dare, and then dared you to kiss him, as if you haven’t done it a million times over.

satoru was many, many things. selfish at his worst and dramatic all the time, the laundry list of positives in his life could have an argument made for a negative that outweighs it. something about him felt like home, like comfort; the feeling you get when you have a warm bowl of soup, or settling in with a hot drink. his love warms you from the inside out, and manages to turn and touch every fiber of your being.

you’d never tell him this, though. it’s good to keep him humble sometimes when you fear his ego gets the better of him.

no good deed goes unpunished.

punishment looks really good at the moment. a beautiful boy sleeping soundly next to you as you listen to a song he swore to show you months ago. it doesn’t seem fair to call it a punishment when it can’t get better than this; but you find yourself looking forward to your next good deed.

#gojo x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jjk fluff #satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #★ jujutsu kaisen #♡ satoru

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Note

REQUEST

Y'know, Hobie n R hit the boombahya, now the twins are getting a li'l bro? :3

The twins could be like, 4-5 years old now, maybe?

Yeesss new baby alert!! Thank you, roze ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, mom! Reader, dad! Hobie, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, dad AU, fluff

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie's nervous, and it's not because he's scared for you because you're in labour and actively pushing out a whole new human being, that was hours ago, all the blood and sweat have been wiped clean and the baby now presumably sleeps in your arms. And it's not because he's scared of having a new kid, he's way past that phase thanks to your help. No, it's not because of those things why his hands are so clammy, he's scared whether or not his girls, his first babies will get along with the new addition to the family. Especially when they wanted a baby sister.

He flicks his eyes upwards towards the rearview mirror to check on the girls. Their legs dangle off the car seat that they've quickly outgrown. They should be out of it in a few years, but he's sure he won't be ready to face the fact that the squishy cheeked babies he used to carry around all time are now eight years old with their long legs they both inherited from him. The new baby car seat sits between them, all shiny and new, awaiting the new baby.

They eat their chips and ice cream happily, a little treat he bought for them to soften the blow of the news. Ramona hums a tune, a nervous habit of hers. Her, or your cardigan for the matter sits largely on her frame, sparkly trainers shining in the early morning light. While Billie eats her ice cream cone like she hasn't eaten in days. Like Mona, she also sports one of your jackets, a frilly one that you used to wear back when you and Hobie were just friends. They clearly miss you after just a couple of days in hospital.

Hobie unclasps his seat belt, twisting around his seat to speak to them, like a zoo keeper facing lions, he gingerly takes a chip, waiting for their protest.

“Dad!” Billie reacts first, “I was eating that.”

“And I bought it.” He annoyingly chews to lighten the mood.

Mona lifts her eyes from her melting ice cream to her dad. Always the more perceptive one, she senses his nerves. “Is mum okay?” Her tone makes Billie take a whole 180 on her emotions.

“What– why would she not be okay?” Billie turns to her dad, tone soft and clearly terrified at the thoughts rolling in her mind. “Dad, mum is okay, right?”

“She's fine, Mac,” He can see the relief on their faces. “just— she's knackered, pushing the baby out tired was hard, so can you two promise me that you'll be extra careful with her and the baby?”

They look at each other for a second before nodding. “Okay,” they say simultaneously. Hobie's used to their synchronization.

“Good,” he pats both of their knees. “Ready to head out and meet your sibling?”

“Yes!” Billi exclaims, the ‘s’ sound prolonged.

Mona finishes her ice cream in one gulp, brain freeze evident on her face. The same expression you get whenever you bite into your ice cream. He can't wait to see you too, it's only been a few hours since he left your side but it feels like a year.

Wincing, Mona smiles, showing off her dimples and pearly whites. “I'm good!”

“Let's go then.” Hobie doesn't need to help them with their car seat, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't miss it. All he does now is open and close the doors for them, he feels all nostalgic. He hopes he gets the same feeling when his boy gets the same age as his girls.

Locking the car, Billie skips ahead while Mona takes her dad's hand wordlessly. “Bee!” She yells after her sister. “Look both ways!”

Billie stops in her tracks to check her left and right. Then she tosses a thumbs up behind her, continuing her way towards the entrance of the hospital.

“D’you think we need a leash for your sister?” He tuge at Mona's hand jokingly.

“Leashes aren't nice, dad, they hinder us from our freedom to move around.” She says seriously, or as seriously a eight year old can sound like.

“That's my girl.” Hobie grins down.

“Learned from the best.” She beams up at him, he can't believe that she grew up looking more like you when everyone thought she looked like him when she was a baby. “Aunty Yuri taught me that.”

Hobie scrunches his nose. “You ruined it, cheese.” She clearly knows what she's doing based on her cheeky grin. He's her kid alright.

“Dad! Elevator!” Billie, in her blue overalls, holds the elevator doors open. “Hurry!” She stomps her foot impatiently.

“Alright, we're comin’” Entering the elevator, Billie seems to be jumping all over the walls. Maybe he shouldn't have given them ice cream.

Her eyes flit over the various medical posters inside the elevator, feet unconsciously doing a little dance.

Mona tugs at Hobie's hand, beaded bracelets clinking against each other. “You look knackered, dad.” His heart melts.

Patting her head, Hobie's hand is big enough to cover her entire head. Her curls stick out in-between his fingers and the ribbons she hastily tied around her hair. “I am, dovey. But I'll be alright, mum and my babies come first, yeah?”

“But who'll take care of you?” Her eyes gloss over. Billie heard the conversation through her fog of excitement. She holds the sleeve of Hobie's leather jacket like she always does when she's unsure.

He whispers, hands on both of their heads. “I'm Spiderman, innit? If I can handle lizard on my worst day, I can handle this.”

Mona thinks for a second. She smiles once she gets an idea. “Then we'll watch over you then!”

“Mm-hmm!” Billie agrees, “Like mum always does!”

Hobie would've embraced his girls until he lets all his love for them out, but the ring of the doors opening cuts him off. With a sniff, he feels the tears behind his eyes once again.

“You two are already better at this than me,” he softly says as he leads them out of the lift. He has no idea why he worried so much.

Walking past the nurse’s station, both of his babies are holding each of his hands now, hopping and skipping happily. Their curls bounce cutely, getting a nurse’s attention. Hobie recognizes her as one of the nurses that attended to you.

“You two are adorable!” She coos, “d’you girls want a lolly?” Shaking a jar full of colourful lollipops, surprisingly, the girls shake their heads.

“No, thank you, Mum and dad said to not accept any candies from strangers.” Mona puffs out her chest bravely. Her sister agrees, nodding along to her words.

Hobie chuckles whilst the nurse does the same. “It's alright, love, I know her, go take some.” He urges them, still a tad apprehensive, Billie takes one for the team, taking two lollies. Yellow for her, and green for Mona.

“Wait! What about the baby?” Mona exclaims,

Billie knits her eyebrows.

“I don't think your baby brother is allowed to have a lolly yet.” The nurse, naive to what she just revealed, returns back to her desk.

“What?!” They crane their neck up incredibly fast, shock on their faces, letting go of their dad's hand like they've been betrayed.

Hobie's ready to mitigate any tantrums, mouth opening to explain, the twins’ grins grow larger (and cuter) making their dad go through a rollercoaster of emotions.

“We have a baby brother?” Mona says giddily.

“Told you it would work!” Billie takes her sister's hand, bouncing up and down.

“What would work?” Hobie has never been more confused when it comes to his daughters.

“Reverse psychology!” They both speak at the same time.

“We keep saying that we want a baby sister but we actually wanted a brother! Now we've tricked mummy's belly to have a boy instead of a girl!” Billie explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Hobie doesn't have the heart to tell them that it doesn't work that way. He lets them be, guiding them towards your room as they celebrate their so-called win.

He smiles at them, nodding along. “Yeah, that's great, love— look at that we're here.” Knocking once, he opens the door with a creak.

Billie and Ramona stop from hopping around, peeking inside, they see you sitting up on the bed cradling a bundle of blue blanket.

You smile, shoulders sagging and finally able to relax. Eyes glistening from the mere sight of them alone, (you blame your hormones) you beckon them over.

“My babies,” you softly say, sniffing.

The distinct smell of disinfectant and clean linen immediately has Hobie on dad mode. He remembers the day the girls were born, all shaky legs and clammy hands as the doctor hands them over to him for the first time. Now he has one more bundle to carry, and now he's much more ready and experienced, yet his legs are still wobbly, and his hands are still sweaty. It's like he's back when he first carried his son even though it was just a few hours ago.

He guides Billie and Mona towards your bed, hands on their back, whispering to them. “Indoor voices, mac and cheese. We don't want to scare your brother.”

“Okay.” Mona nods. “Hi, mum, hi little brother.” She softly says, and you scooch to make space for them both on the bed so they could see him better. Mona lifts up her leg carefully, sitting down by your side, planting her face on your bicep. Eyes wide, she holds your hand where you hold your son's tiny leg. “He looks so much like dad. Especially his eyes.” Voice even softer now, you kiss her temple as thanks for being gentle.

Billie has a harder time though, Hobie senses her nerves, whether it's his spidey senses or his dad's intuition, he just knows. Billie is definitely nervous by how she bounces on the balls of her feet, and wrings her hands. He hasn't seen her this anxious since her first recital.

Hobie crouches down, hand on her shoulder, soothing her by mere touch alone. “You alright, Bee?” You watch the interaction in the corner of your eye. Mind still a bit foggy, body still aching, you'd help if not for those feelings.

“Will the baby like me?” She timidly asks her dad, frown deepening on her lips. “What if he hates me?”

“Impossible, angel.” Hobie rubs her back, “he listened to your voice while he was still in mum's belly, and he always moved and wiggled around whenever he heard you. I know he loves you, just like how your mum and I knew that you and Mona would love each other.”

Billie, still his little girl, hugs him right on the spot. Little arms wrapped around his neck, nerves melting off her. Just like how Hobie used to do, he lifts her up, carrying her to your bed.

She sits down right next to her sister, frown immediately gone the moment she lays her eyes on her brother. “He’s so fat.” Giggling, Billie looks at you with the same adoration. “You made him fat, mum.”

You beam at her, you'd embrace both of them if your hands aren't occupied by the sleeping newborn. “It’s because of all the bread and pasta I ate.” Billie and Mona laugh softly, continuing to coo at their brother. Billie sniffs at the blanket, whispering something that sounds like ‘new baby smell.’

Tilting your head at Hobie, eyes tender, you smile at him. Grinning back, he holds your head, placing a heavy kiss on your forehead.

“I was the one who made you all that pasta and bread, you blamin’ me, love?” He says the joke against your temple.

“I'm feeling nice today, so I'm blaming us both. I blame my cravings and I blame you for indulging me.” Moving your head without moving your body to not disturb the baby, (which was a challenge,) you pucker your lips, waiting for him to move. “Told you they'd love him.”

“I should've never doubted you.” With a dramatic sigh, he leans down to kiss you properly.

Now for the next challenge, naming their son. Billie and Mona are already whispering ideas, which includes names ranging from their favourite cartoon characters to even naming them after their uncles. You and Hobie watch on while the baby sleeps soundly, and while your girls argue quietly.

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