#and now you stay awake at night thinking about them and wishing you still talked

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Aftermath

Summary: The aftermath of your arrival in Jackson and running back into Joel brings back emotions you thought you had moved on from.

Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3k

Rating: G

Warnings: angst, POV switch, bad break-up, talks about child birth, one steamy thought, flashbacks, Tommy being the protective bro, a surprise about the real relationship status of Joel and reader, Ellie being a dick (affectionate), Joel still being a mess and bad at feelings, but he's trying

A/N: still not exactly sure where I am going with this. Let me know what you think

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part two of invisible string

You didn’t think seeing him again after so many years, and after so much had happened would feel like this. 

Like finally being able to take a full breath after being under water for too long. 

You thought you’d be over it by now. Over him. 

It had been almost six years after all.

Yet it felt like it had been yesterday when you took one last look at him early in the morning with your little possessions packed and him passed out on the bed after another night of him drinking himself to sleep. 

But the moment you caught his wide eyes across the room now, it was 2010 all over again and you were the girl across the street who had dropped all the rations you had just picked up because some rude asshole walking into you, finding Joel looking at you with a hint of a smirk after you cursed the person out who had ran into you. 

Before you could realise it you had sat Ana down on the bench next to your brother who still had little Leo in his lap and were walking towards him, ignoring your brother calling after you.  

Joel looked at you like he’d seen a ghost. 

Deep in the night, when you were alone and your little family was asleep you imagined what it would be like if you’d ever meet Joel again. 

He had not only broken your heart that night you told him you were pregnant. 

He had broken a part of you that you hadn’t been able to repair. 

You tried to hate him, god did you try. 

You cursed him on your whole absolute suicidal journey back to your hometown close to Denver, your mind set on finding your brother who you had occasional contact to, since he was living in a community on the an military base, close to the Denver QZ.

You cursed Joel when you gave birth in the safety of an actual working hospital while your brother held your hand, wishing so much it was Joel who was supporting you through the birth of your child. 

You cursed him when you were surprised by not only one but two babies who you were now responsible for. 

You cursed and cursed and cursed him while you just could not stop loving him no matter how much you tried.  

Because you knew the man behind the version he had turned into in the months leading up to your break up. 

The man who was lashing out at you for things out of your control. The man who stayed away longer and longer until he didn’t come back home to your shared apartment at night. The man who never ever told you he loved you with his own words. 

Not when you were awake, but you did not know that he whispered his I love you’s every night against your forehead before he fell asleep. 

But he also was the man who always kept you in his arms when you were scared of a storm howling outside. The man who always kept one of his shirts out for you because he knew how much you loved to wear them. The man who had you on the verge of tears from the way he knew how to play your body night after night while he praised you what a good girl you were for him. 

He was the father of your children. 

And you loved him. 

You still loved him. 

You just weren’t sure if you could ever forgive him and trust him again. 

And just couldn’t stay with him back then while was busy destroying himself. Because it wasn’t just you anymore you had to take care of but the children growing inside of you. 

And so you left. All the way to Colorado, the Denver QZ and then to find you brother, finally finding him when you were almost eight months pregnant. And now you were in Jackson, Wyoming. 

The community you had spend the last years in having been overrun by a huge group of infected and your brother knowing about Jackson from the trading routes he went on regularly. 

You never thought you would see Joel ever again. Not that far away from Boston. 

And now he was here. And he was looking at you. And you were trying to decide if you would kill or kiss him when you saw him bend over, Tommy looking concerned and a girl not older than fifteen running across the room towards him.

„Joel?“ You whispered, your hand reaching out as if to touch him, but you decided against it, rubbing your sweaty palm against the fabric of the new jeans you had been gifted this morning. 

He blinked his eyes up at you in shock. 

„You’re here,“ he gasped and then he fell into the arms of his brother, who caught him before he could hit his head. Unconscious. 

„Fuck,“ Tommy groaned, trying to pull his brother up in his arms, the girl next to you pushing you away to help him. 

„Is he dead? Tommy? He can’t be dead. I am not ready being mad at him yet,“ she shook her head while helping Tommy slowly put him on the ground, people gathering around you now.

„He’s not dead, Ellie. He’s just….“ Tommy looked up at you for a moment before he looked at the girl, Ellie, again. 

„He’s just overwhelmed and had a panic attack. Can you please get Doc so we can get him to the clinic? Just to be sure?“ Tommy asked and you could feel how hesitant the girl was to leave him. 

Who was she?

„Fine,“ she mumbled and got back up, but not before looking at you with narrowed eyes. 

„This is your fault,“ she hissed and you were taken aback as she walked towards you, intimidating you. You heard Tommy call her name, but she didn’t stop and you stumbled back, unsure and if you were honest with yourself a little scared at the look the girl was giving you. 

You didn’t get far before you walked into someone, feeling a hand on your shoulder and you looked up to find your brother behind you. 

„Ellie!“ Tommy had now gotten up to walk in front of her. 

„Who is she? What did she do to Joel?“ Ellie asked him, her eyes still on you. 

Tommy sighed. 

„She’s Joel’s wife.“

The ring Joel had put on your ring finger during a winter storm in December of 2012 didn’t sit on your finger anymore. 

You had to take it off somewhere between the fifth and sixth month of your pregnancy, your fingers swelling. It had made its way to the chain around your neck where you kept it since that day next to the heart your mother had gifted to you when you were seven years old.

The only thing you had left from her.  

It was a habit of yours to play with the ring as soon as you got anxious since then. 

You were in the clinic now, not sure what you were doing here. 

After Joel had been brought to the clinic last night Tommy thought it was for the best that you stayed back while you weren’t even sure if you wanted to go and see him. 

So you had taken your kids home where your brother helped tuck them in before he disappeared into his own room, but only after kissing your forehead and telling you that everything was gonna be okay and that if you wanted to talk he would be there. 

He knew everything about you and Joel. 

And you were pretty sure at some point he would tell Joel exactly what he thought about his behaviour that led to you practically fleeing from him while being pregnant. 

But that would wait. 

First you had to figure out what to do. 

Part of you wanted to hide from the world. 

But you had two very excited kids who wanted to go to school this morning. Kids that thankfully did not witness anything that happened the night before thanks to your brother and their future teacher who had helped settle you in. 

You were pretty sure your brother had a crush on her.

So now, after you brought your kids to school and spend two hours telling yourself that you could leave them there, that they were safe, you had Maria walk you towards the clinic where apparently Joel was still resting. 

Tommy and the girl you had seen yesterday, Ellie, were waiting in front of a closed door when you walked in and they both looked up at you when you entered. 

Tommy gave you a tired smile before he kissed his wife’s cheek as she walked over to him. 

„How is he?“ Maria asked. 

„Worst patient ever. He’s getting released this morning,“ Tommy said and you nodded, still uncertain if you should stay or leave, your fingers finding the ring resting on the chain over your heart, playing with it. 

„I should leave before he gets out,“ Ellie said. 

„Ellie, please. I’m sure he wants to talk to you,“ Tommy said and Ellie rolled her eyes. 

„Should have thought about that before he did what he did,“ she grunted, looking up at you. You got the impression that there was some kind of a story between her behaviour towards Joel. Not that you were interested in finding out more about it. 

Because you were not family. 

Not anymore. 

You weren’t sure what you and Joel were anymore if you were anything at all. Not for a long time. 

„Guess now that he has her back, he won’t need me anymore anyway,“ she said as she walked past you and out of the clinic. 

Tommy rubbed his fingers over his forehead in frustration. 

„Really looking forward to Sammy becoming a Teenager one day,“ Tommy groaned and Maria smiled softly, pulling her arm around Tommy’s waist. 

You had met little Sammy yesterday as Tommy introduced you to his little family. 

„Thankfully we have almost ten years to prepare for that,“ Maria said and he nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at her before he looked at you again. 

„He wants to talk to you,“ Tommy said and you sucked your bottom lip in. 

„And I would feel better if it happens here where a doctor is close by after last night,“ he said jokingly but you could hear some truth behind it. 

You took a deep breath, your fingers still playing with the ring on the chain. 

You should go. Maybe you should leave Jackson and find somewhere else, which you knew you wouldn’t. From what you had seen since getting here, the community was close to perfect, but you just didn’t know how you would be able to live somewhere with Joel close by. 

Did he still hate you?

Would he want to meet your children?

No. No he wouldn’t. If he would have wanted to be in the life of your kids, he would not have reacted the way he did back then and then ignored you for a full week after until you decided to leave. 

You were about to tell Tommy that you couldn’t face him when the door behind him opened and Joel stepped out with a younger woman who had to be the doctor, who instructed Joel sternly to take it easy for a couple of days. 

He whispered your name as he looked at you and you released a shaky breath. 

There suddenly was a tension in the air as you both looked at each other. 

„Can we… Can we talk?“ Joel asked. 

You only nodded, seeing him breath out in relief before he stepped back into the room. You looked at Tommy who gave you an encouraging smile, before you followed Joel into the room and closed the door behind you. 

The first thing Joel noticed when his eyes blinked open was that there was a crack in the ceiling of the room he was laying in that he should take a look at. He groaned, stretching his tired muscles turning his head around to find his brother sitting on a chair next to the bed he was laying in, his eyes on him. 

Was he at the… clinic?

Did he get hurt?

He was about to check his own body for injuries when the memories came floating back. 

You.

With a girl in your lap. 

A man next to you. 

With a boy in his lap. 

He sucked air in and Tommy’s hand came to rest on his arm. 

„Easy, brother,“ he said and Joel fixed his eyes on his brother, mirroring the way he was breathing slowly, calming himself down. 

„She’s really here?“ Joel asked and Tommy nodded. 

"Arrived an hour after you went on patrol two days ago. With her two kids and brother,“ Tommy stressed the last word and Joel closed his eyes. 

„Brother,“ he repeated. 

„Jep. You know you never really told me why she left,“ he began, before he pressed his lips into a line, slowly shaking his head and as Joel opened his eyes to look at his brother he wondered when Tommy had gotten the same look down that their Dad had when he was disappointed in his children. 

„Can’t fuck with the Miller genes. Leo looks like you when you were a boy,“ Tommy said. 

Leo. 

The boy’s name was Leo. 

His son’s name was…. No. He didn’t deserve that title. Not after….

„Did you know that she was pregnant?“ Tommy asked. 

Joel audibly breathed out. 

„Yeah. Yeah I did,“ he confessed, looking everywhere but at his brother, shame settling deeply in his gut. 

„Fuck,“ Tommy shook his head. 

„I fucked up. There’s no excuse. I lashed out and fucked it all up. I fucked up the only good thing…“ he stopped, feeling the tears in his eyes. 

They were silent for a while, until there was a knock on the door and the doctor walked in, asking if he was ready to get out of here, which Joel confirmed with a sigh. 

She asked Tommy to leave so she could check Joel over. 

He watched Tommy get up, walking out of the room. But just before he exited he turned around, his eyes fixed on his brother. 

„Maria is bringing her over in a bit. I recon you wanna talk to her?“ Tommy asked and Joel nodded. 

„Don’t be an asshole again. Or you gonna have a problem with me,“ he nodded at Joel and he nodded back. 

You hadn’t been in a room alone with Joel in almost six years. 

You didn’t know how to be alone with him anymore. 

There was a part that wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and tell him how much you missed him, but there was the bigger part of you that wanted nothing more than to run out of the room and hide from him. 

It was like some weird kind of PTSD that now connected being in a room alone with Joel with getting your heart broken, leaving every cell in your body bracing for heartbreak. 

„I can’t believe you’re here,“ he said as he leaned against the wall across from you, his hands behind his back, making himself small.

You stayed at the door, needing a quick way to get out of here if you needed to. 

He looked older. Tired. His hair almost as long as Tommy’s, now more salt than pepper in it. And there still was that perfect patch in his beard that grew no hair. A spot you had kissed more often than you could count in the past. 

You found him looking at you as you tried to form words. 

„I didn’t know you would be here. I didn’t think I would ever see you again,“ you said, voice quiet and he nodded. 

„Don’t think it’s a happy occasion for you, huh?“ He sighed, before he cursed under his breath. 

Before you could say something he continued. 

„That day…. The day you told me you were pregnant…. The way I reacted… Sorry isn’t enough of a word. I’d go on my knees to beg you for forgiveness, but I don’t deserve it. I never deserved you,“ he whispered the last sentence and you closed your eyes, fighting down the tears. 

„Joel, do you think I would have married you, if I thought you did not deserve me? I loved you. You. With all your flaws. I never understood why you thought you had to prove yourself worthy of me. I just wanted you to love me,“ you said softly. 

„I did love you. I still do… I just….“ He stopped, seemingly searching for what to say next while you looked at him with big eyes. 

„You love me?“ You asked, perplexed. 

He looked at you like you grew a second head. 

„Of course I do,“ he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Sucking your bottom lip in, you looked at him while your fingers went back to the ring that rested on the chain around your neck, seeing Joel’s eyes follow your hand, recognising what you held in your hand. 

„You never told me before,“ you whispered, the room suddenly feeling to small. 

„I know,“ he said, voice breaking as a tear slipped down his cheek. 

You looked away from him, your eyes landing on the clock hanging on the wall, eyes widening. 

„I… I have to go. I have to pick up…. I have to pick up the twins….“ You mumbled already turning around, your hand on the door handle.

„Twins?“ You heard him ask behind you and you nodded without turning around. 

„What are their names?“ He asked softly and your shoulders fell as you took a deep breath. 

„Leo and Ana Miller. After my dad and your mom,“ you whispered before you opened the door and walked out. 

[scuderiahoney]

Empty Space

Max Verstappen x reader // Strawberry Wine Pt. III

Strawberry Wine Series // Masterlist

Part Three of Strawberry Wine

Summary: Max wakes up alone. He finds himself wishing the night before had been a bad dream. Title from Strawberry Wine by Noah Kahan Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, sexually suggestive content, ANGST (happy ending I swear)

Max sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the wall. The room is shockingly empty. Just last night, you were in bed next to him. When he’d closed his eyes, he’d pretended everything was alright. He’d listened to the sound of your slow, even breaths and pretended you were asleep, not laying awake just like he was. Eventually, between that and the utter exhaustion of the day, he’d fallen asleep.

He just hadn’t expected to wake up alone.

Sure, you’d tried to leave the night before. Tried to go stay with your friend, to give him space. We need space, I think. But he’d talked you into staying, insisting it was your home, too, and that you were being ridiculous. He’d hoped in the morning things would be okay, that clearer heads would prevail. Or that it would all turn out to be some horrible dream. Now the sheets are cold and the bed is empty, and your tears stain the pillowcase.

Your stuff is still there, at least most of it, which is a mild comfort. He sees your clothes in the closet, your slippers near the door where he always trips over them, your jewelry box on the dresser. He wonders if the wine cork is still in the drawer. God, he hopes it is. But you’re gone. Your phone charger, always left plugged in on the nightstand, is missing. Your favorite jacket, the one that hangs on the back of the bedroom door, is gone. The sheets are cold. The bed is empty.

He’s not sure what went wrong. Not sure how to fix this, or if he even can. He just knows it feels like he’s being torn apart at the seams. He stares at the wall and thinks. He thinks of you on the balcony, your head on his shoulder. The two of you on the streets of Monaco, plastic cups full of strawberry wine. He thinks of winning a race and you, leaning over the barricade to hug him, the smell of your perfume washing over him like a blanket. He thinks of the tray of corks in his bedside drawer, of the little square box hidden behind them, a question and a promise rolled up into one piece of jewelry.

He thinks of all of this, and then he lays back down in bed and cries himself to sleep.

The sheets still smell like you. He wonders, distantly, how long it will take for that to fade.

…..

You sit on your friend Audrey’s couch with a massive headache and a shake in your hands that won’t go away. You try to convince yourself it’s the caffeine- the espresso from the cafe on the way here, the cup of coffee you’ve had since you showed up. It’s not the regret, the awful feeling you’ve made a mistake that’s making you shaky. It’s the coffee.

Audrey is moving around in the kitchen. She hasn’t said a word since you sat down and admitted it.

I asked him for a break, you’d said.

She’d poured a cup of coffee and set it down in front of you. You drank it black, thinking of how Max always knows how you take your coffee and always makes it perfectly. Then she disappeared into the kitchen. You know she’s not happy with you. She’s the only one you’ve confided in about this- all your other friends were Max’s friends first, but Audrey is yours. You’ve taken absolutely none of her advice, which is what got you to this point.

“What did you tell him?” She finally asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Does it matter?”

“Did you lie?” She asks.

She must take your silence for the answer that it is- yes. She comes back into the living room and leans against the back of the armchair, staring at you. You bury your face in your hands.

“I told him I needed space,” you say. “That… I was feeling uncertain about us and I needed to be on my own for a bit.”

She sighs heavily. “So you lied.”

“I’m trying to protect him,” you mutter.

“Right. By breaking his heart.” She retorts.

“Audrey,” you snap, curling further in on yourself. “Please.”

She sighs again. She does that, when she’s not sure what else to say. You don’t think there’s anything she could say to make it better. Instead, she walks over to the couch and sits down next to you. You lean into her shoulder and let the sobs take over.

…..

Two weeks go by before you see Max again. It’s easy to avoid him. He’s always gone anyways. You’re strategic about going and getting stuff from your shared apartment. You know his schedule, know when he’ll be in town. His calendar is still shared with you, the one his assistant keeps updated with his every move.

Which is why, when you’re standing in your bedroom packing up more clothes and you hear the front door open, you know he’s caught on. He must know you’ve been using the calendar. The one that says he’s in Milton Keynes for two more days. It's either that, or someone’s broken in. You hear him stumble over your shoes and curse under his breath and you know his voice. It makes you feel sick to your stomach.

You step into the living room and come face to face with him. He’s standing across the room, smiling softly at you. There’s a paper bag in his hand from his favorite Italian place. In his other hand is a bag that you just know holds a bottle of strawberry wine. The sight of it is like a sharp stab to your rib cage.

“Hi,”’he says, softly. “Dinner?”

You blink at him, wide eyed. “How’d you know I was here?”

He gestures at the door. “We have the security camera doorbell, remember?”

And yeah, of course. He gets notifications every time there’s movement at the front door. He’ll use it to say hello to you when he’s miles upon miles away and you’re just getting home from work. Of course he’d still be getting the notifications.

“You’re supposed to be at the factory,” you say.

He shrugs. “Plans changed. I’m here. Dinner?”

There’s this hopeful look in his eyes that is absolutely tearing you apart. He’s not smiling, not frowning, completely neutral. He’s trying so hard to be unreadable, but you know him too well.

The truth is that you do want to have dinner with him. You want nothing more than to sit down at the kitchen island in your usual spots. You want to feel his knee bump against yours while you eat pasta and fight over the last piece of garlic bread. You want to drink that stupid strawberry wine until you’re drunk and fall into bed with him and pretend like nothing ever happened. Like nothing is wrong. Like you never asked for a break. And you know you could- you could say it right here and he’d act like nothing had changed.

“I’m just here to grab some stuff,” you tell him, letting your hands hang at your sides. “I’m staying at Audrey’s.”

He tries not to let the disappointment show on his face. You see it anyways, the way you always see him. After nearly a year and a half together, you can’t help it. You turn around, back towards the bedroom, back to your stuff stacked neatly on the unmade bed. You pack it into your duffel bag and head for the door.

“Are you coming to Monaco?” He asks when you place your hand on the doorknob.

For a moment you’re confused, because you’re in Monaco, but then you realize he means the Grand Prix. It’s less than a week away. As his girlfriend, you’re expected to make an appearance. You turn towards him and lean your back against the door.

“Space, Max,” you remind him, hating that you have to break his heart all over again.

He’s sitting at the island, on his usual stool, far too much garlic bread in front of him. He nods solemnly.

“Right. But if you don’t come, people will wonder what’s going on,” he says. “Our friends, the press, the-“ he waves his hands around wildly. “People.”

“You haven’t told them?”

“The press?”

“No. Our friends,” you say.

He shrugs, shoves his food around on his plate. He looks small. You hate it. You hate that it’s your fault. Your hands start to shake again.

“No,” he admits. “You said… a break, space. I didn’t know…” he huffs. “I didn’t want to tell them unless it was permanent.”

He looks up at you, then, and scrubs at his jaw. There’s stubble there, and there are bags under his eyes. God, you hate yourself for it. You hate the way he doesn’t hate you, the way you can still see the love in his eyes. You hate the worry in his gaze, like he thinks you might end things right then and there.

“Max, I don’t-“ your chest feels tight. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” he says. “That’s okay, schat. But if you don’t go to the race…”

You sigh, haul your duffel bag over your shoulder. “I’ll be there.”

You leave the apartment before he can say anything else.

…..

Audrey takes your phone from you one night, while you’re crying on her couch after watching a very bad romantic comedy. She deletes every social media app off your phone. It’s nice of her to try. You attempt to go along with it at first. But soon you’re using the browser to check what they’re saying about you on twitter, to read the Instagram comments about how your boyfriend could do better. You’re over analyzing gossip accounts, trying to see if they can tell that you and Max are taking a break.

Two days in, you redownload all the apps. If you’re going to look at it, you might as well make it easier.

…..

“Have you told them?” Max asks you.

You’re standing shoulder to shoulder with him in the Red Bull hospitality. Your friends are huddled in the corner, raiding the snack bar. You turn and look up at him. He’s not looking back at you.

“D’you think I’d be here if I had?” You ask dryly.

He shrugs.

You turn and look back at your friends. “Have you told anyone?”

He gives you a short nod. “Daniel. He… is perceptive. I didn’t want to lie to him.”

Frankly, Max has every right to tell whoever he wants. You can’t expect him to stay quiet about it forever, no matter how well he seems to be handling it. And it’s been nearly three weeks now. Eventually, you’re going to have to admit it to your friends. It’s a bit unfair, really, that you haven’t told them. Max should be getting their sympathy. But when you think about admitting it to your friends, the ones who say you and Max are destined to be together, you feel sick to your stomach.

What’s even more unfair is that you haven’t given him a firm answer, either. You’re just keeping him there, keeping him hanging on. You need to make a decision, and soon. Just not before the race.

“I’ll figure it all out,” you promise. “And I can go if you don’t want me here-“

“I always want you here,” Max says, and your heart clenches in your chest.

You’re lucky Max isn’t big on PDA. You’ll be able to make it through the weekend without drawing much suspicion. But you find yourself missing the weight of his hand on the small of your back as you walk through the paddock. There are gaps between your fingers where his are supposed to fit. You feel it now more than ever.

…..

Daniel corners you on Saturday afternoon. Really, you should’ve seen this coming a long time ago. In the time you’ve been dating Max you’ve gotten to know the other drivers, and Daniel’s one you know quite well. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into Max’s driver room, which is an overwhelming place for you to be. You can remember other races, when Max was the one pulling you in here for a quick makeout or just to spend time alone. Now, you’re being dragged into an interrogation.

“What the fuck?” Daniel asks, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Wanna be more specific?” You reply.

“You know what I’m asking,” he says. “Come on.”

“I really don’t, Daniel. What do you want to know? Are you asking why I’m here? Why I asked for a break?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Frankly, it’s none of your business-“

“It is my business, because he’s my friend and so are you. He told me why, I think it’s a load of bullshit,” he says.

The problem is… he’s not wrong.

“I think I’d know why,” you hiss.

“I see the way you look at him, it hasn’t changed.” Daniel has his arms crossed over his chest. “So what’s the real reason?”

“I’m feeling unsure about things. I needed space,” you insist.

Daniel is still blocking the door, arms crossed. He tilts his head at you, appraising. One of his dark brows twitches.

“You’re not sure about what? Your feelings for him?” He asks.

Your heart shatters in your chest. “Danny, stop, it’s not that easy-“

“No, come on. Things changed, yeah? Say it. You don’t love him anymore.” Daniel has fire in his eyes now. “Or if that’s not it, then tell me what it is.”

You stare at him, a bit dumbfounded. The truth is, you can’t say it. How could you not love Max? Just the thought of that feeling going away has you feeling awful all over again. You’re saved by a knock on the door.

“You’re in my driver room, you know,” Max calls out, and both you and Daniel deflate. “I shouldn’t even be asking, but can I come in?”

Daniel glares at you one last time and then opens the door. Max leans in, and his brows furrow when he catches sight of the two of you. You know you’re on the verge of tears. Max turns to Daniel, eyes wide.

“I told you not to do this,” Max scolds.

“We’re just talking,” Danny answers.

“She’s going to cry,” Max points out, sounding exasperated.

You roll your eyes and squeeze between the two of them. You head for the bathroom to clean yourself up. Behind you, the two of them are bickering in harsh whispers.

…..

You end up on the rooftop patio of the hotel you’re partying at after the Grand Prix. Max and your friends are somewhere downstairs. They’re drinking. You have been too- someone ordered shots for the table, then rounds of drinks. But what did you in was the strawberry wine your friends ordered specially for you and Max. You hadn’t been able to handle it anymore. At the first opportunity, you disappeared.

There aren’t any other people up here. It’s late, and if people are still up, they’re drinking and partying. So when the door swings open and you hear footfalls, you know who it is without even having to look. Max sits down next to you on the couch. You have your arms wrapped around your calves, face pressed into your knees. He doesn’t reach out to touch you. You’ve lost that privilege, it seems.

“Hi,” he says, softly. “You disappeared.”

You huff. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “But I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t come find you.”

You fight back the sob that threatens to wrench its way out of your throat. It turns into something halfway between a whimper and a groan. Max makes a sympathetic noise. You hate it. He should hate you. You turn your head towards him, eyeing his face through the blur of your tears.

“Well, I’m okay. You can go. Tell them I went to bed early or something,” you say.

Max stared at you. “You are obviously not okay.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not your problem right now,” you tell him. “So.”

“You’ve never been a problem, schat,” he says.

He says it like it’s so easy. Like it doesn’t make you feel physically ill. Like the way he calls you those affectionate names doesn’t make your skin burn. You press a hand over your mouth to cover the choked sob.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he says, softly. “You can talk to me.”

You can’t tell him. You broke the heart of the man you love. You lied to his face because you thought it would make it easier. And now you carry the guilt of it in every part of your body. It’s settled into the empty space behind your ribs. You stare at him from afar and wish you could hold his hand again. You taste strawberries and feel like throwing up. That first kiss in your apartment. The first bottle of strawberry wine you shared. The corks in his nightstand drawer.

“I can’t drink the wine anymore,” you tell him, and he frowns sympathetically. “The taste of it makes me feel sick.”

Max seems unsure of what to say. He reaches out, then, and places his hand on your knee. You flinch at the feeling. His thumb brushes against your skin, warm and soothing and terrifying. You don’t deserve it.

“And I know how unfair this is, because I’m the one who asked for this,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m the one who didn’t tell anyone and ended up here. I shouldn’t be the one who’s so upset about this.”

Max squeezes your knee. “You seem… heavy. Like there’s something weighing you down. I don’t hate you, you know. I don’t blame you. You need a break, okay. But you don’t have to shut me out completely.”

“Fuck, Max,” you choke out.

The sobs come easily now. They wrack your shoulders and steal the air from your lungs. You bury your face in your hands. He pulls you into his chest and tucks his head atop yours. It’s like that night on the balcony all that time ago, when he let you fall asleep against him and had you stay the night.

How does he not see it? Does he really think you want this? Maybe he’s fallen out of love with you. Maybe that’s why it’s easy for him to believe it. You think the ache in your chest will never go away. You gasp for air and breathe in his cologne and feel yourself tearing apart at the seams.

You cry harder when he presses his lips to your forehead and murmurs, “I’ve got you. You’re safe here.”

You push at his shoulder halfheartedly. “Don’t. Please don’t. I don’t deserve this.”

“What, schat?” He says, lips still pressed to your skin. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You still deserve love. Sweetheart, if you don’t want to be together anymore, if you don’t feel the same-“

“I do!” You gasp out, borderline hyperventilating. “I do, I still love you, Max, of course I-“

You break off into a sob, and he rocks you back and forth. His fingers press into your skin as he holds onto you tightly.

“I know,” he says, and the guilt rises in your chest. “I know you do. So how about you tell me what’s going on?”

You rear your head back to look him in the eye. He’s watching you, a calm, knowing look on his face. And really, you should’ve known. Max knows you better than anyone in the world. Of course he knows when you’re lying. He presses a hand to the side of your face, and you can’t help but melt into the touch. God, you’ve missed him so much.

“Max,” you try, rubbing your thumb on your own knee. “I don’t-“

“You can tell me,” he says, so gently, like you’re made of glass. “Please. You can tell me.”

You can feel him all around you. For the first time in weeks you feel safe.

“Just talk to me, please-“ he says, voice cracking. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You hate yourself for it. You wonder how many times you’ll have to break his heart.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you say. “I really am, Max.”

You pull yourself out of his arms. You stand up and lean over him to press a kiss to his forehead. Then you walk away.

…..

You’re exhausted, constantly. Long weeks at work that consist of even longer days have you dragging your feet every time you come home. It’s a struggle to even make food for yourself, or do anything. Audrey’s generous enough to let you stay with her, even more generous as she does her best to take care of you. You’re falling apart. Anyone can see it. Your friends are catching on. They’re asking questions and whispering to each other about calling Max when they don’t think you can hear.

At night, when you close your eyes, all you see is him.

…..

Really, it’s your own stupid fault, you think. You’re in Monaco. Max lives here. It’s a small country. And Max’s friends live here too. So when you end up crying in the bathroom of a club, of course it’s Charles’ girlfriend who finds you. Of course she recognizes you and brings you to Charles with a worried look on her face. Of course you’re too upset to do anything but go with her. You’re not even sure why you’re crying at this point- you’re not that drunk. You think you just miss him, really. You’d gone out to try to get your mind off it. It hadn’t worked.

Charles takes one look at you and calls Max. You can’t exactly tell him not to without raising a whole bunch of questions. Max answers, because that’s just your luck, and within a few minutes Charles tells you he’ll be there soon to pick you up. Because of course he will. Because no matter how many times you break his heart, he’ll still come to your rescue.

It’s been almost a month now, since you asked for a break. Honestly, at this point, you’re just wishing he’d break up with you. You deserve that. He must be on the verge of it by now.

When you see Max’s car pull up outside of the club, you make your way over with a wave to Charles and his girlfriend. You nearly have a heart attack when you open the door and it’s not Max in the driver’s seat. It’s Daniel.

“Hi,” he says. “Heard you needed a ride.”

You blink, even as you sit down in the passenger seat. “Charles called Max.”

Daniel nods. “Yup. I was with Max. This,” he says, gesturing around at your surroundings, “seemed like a bad idea. So. I’m picking you up.”

You nod. “I didn’t ask him to call Max, you know. Just couldn’t exactly tell him not to.”

Daniel nods. “I know.”

He doesn’t ask where to take you. He also doesn’t head for your shared apartment with Max, which is likely where he was before this. Instead, he heads for one of few fast food restaurants in Monaco. In the empty drive thru, he orders and then looks at you expectantly. You just ask for a side of fries and a drink. It’ll help sober you up, which you figure is his point.

He pulls into a nearly empty parking lot and turns to you.

“Tell me,” he says, urgently. “I can help you figure this out. It’s not too late. But you have to tell me.”

You pick at your french fries, staring out of the front windshield. Danny may be driving, but this is Max’s car. You’ve sat shotgun here so many times- on late afternoon drives, on impromptu road trips, on rides home from galas that you didn’t belong at. You can hear Max telling you to buckle your seatbelt and you can almost feel his hand on your knee. God, you miss him.

“It’s not his fault,” you tell Daniel.

“Well, he thinks it is,” he answers. “Probably because you won’t give him a full answer.”

You burst into tears again at that. He hands you a napkin. Then he reaches for your hand.

“This isn’t you,” he says. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you love him. I’ve never seen two people who fit each other better. So tell me, or tell someone, or fuck, tell him. I don’t want to see him lose the best person he’s ever had over… something he doesn’t even understand.”

It hits you, then, like a tidal wave. You can’t lose him, either. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. How had you gone from strawberry wine and him walking you home to this? How could you have ended up here?

“This isn’t what I want,” you say, through your sobs. “I want Max. I didn’t want-“

Daniel squeezes your hand. “I’ll take you to him if you promise me you’ll talk about it. If you promise you’ll tell him what’s going on.”

You stare at your reflection in the windshield and wonder if you even deserve that chance. You’re almost positive you don’t, and even more sure that Max would give it to you anyways.

…..

You stumble into the warm apartment and nearly trip over your own shoes. You wonder, absentmindedly, if he’s left them there on purpose. If it would make it worse to move them.

He calls out from the bedroom. “Daniel?”

Daniel is behind you, shutting the door. “Max. I…”

“Is she okay?” Max asks, before he steps out into the living room. His eyes lock with yours. “Oh.”

“Hi,” you say.

“I’m going to go, so you two can talk,” Daniel says, and Max’s face crumples. “But call me if you need anything, okay?”

Max nods. You nod. Then Daniel steps out and closes the door behind him. You’re alone with Max. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and step farther into the apartment as you kick your shoes off. There are dishes in the sink, a bottle of strawberry wine on the counter. Max sees you eyeing it.

“Wine?” He asks.

“No,” you say, hating the way his shoulders fall. “I, uh, I’m going to change, really quick. And then we should talk.”

He nods. You head for the bedroom. You have to walk past him on the way, and have to walk through his cologne. You want to reach out and touch him. You wonder, if you did, if he’d pretend nothing had ever happened. When you’ve changed into comfier clothes and see your tear streaked face in the mirror in the bedroom, you remind yourself how horribly unfair that would be.

You walk back out into the living room. Your hands are shaking, chest tight. Max is sitting in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. You sit down at the other end. The pain on his face makes your stomach ache. You pull your legs up onto the couch, curling in on yourself.

“First I want to apologize,” you say, softly. “I’ve been… really unfair.”

He shakes his head, ready to tell you it’s fine, but you cut him off.

“It’s not okay, Max,” you say. “This will be harder if you just forgive me at every wrong turn I’ve made.”

“We can figure it out, though,” he says, voice breaking on the last word. “We can, I know it, please don’t-“

He looks terrified, you realize. You don’t see him scared often. He’s small again, like he was that day sitting at the island. And suddenly you realize he thinks you’re here to break up with him. God, you feel sick.

“Max, honey,” you say. He keeps his eyes trained on the couch between the two of you. “I don’t want to break up. Not if you’ll still have me. But you deserve an explanation.”

You watch the tension drain from his face. Watch the weight melt away off his shoulders. He purses his lips, blows out a long breath. His eyes are glassy. You don’t see him cry often, and you hate that you’re the cause, even now. He crawls towards you on the couch and places his head in your lap. He takes your hand and drags it to his hair as he closes his eyes. You choke on a gasp at the feeling of his hand on yours.

“Please,” he says, quietly. “I’ve missed you. Please.”

So you sit on the couch in your shared apartment, and you run your fingers through his hair, and you tell him everything. You tell him about the burnout at work, about the insane schedule you’ve had, about them denying your time off to go to some of the races. You tell him about how much you miss him when he’s gone, how it makes your chest ache to wake up alone. You tell him about the hate you get online, the things people shout at you when you walk through the paddock. You tell him how exhausted you were, how you felt like you were failing him, how being at your worst made you feel like you were dragging him down. How you were afraid you would start being mean to him, how you wanted to get out before that happened. You tell him you thought space would make it better, but it only made it worse. Most of all, you tell him-

“None of it was you. It was me. I thought I was protecting you,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I thought it would be better like this.”

Max is quiet for a few moments after it all spills past your lips. You find yourself holding your breath. There’s a chance you’re too late, that there’s no coming back from this. Then you feel his hand against your jaw.

“I understand,” he says, voice raw and quiet. “And we can fix this. But I swear to god, if you ever pull some shit like that again I’ll-“

You burst into laughter before he finishes his threat, because what else can you do? You muffle the sound into your hands, even as Max keeps his hand on your jaw, even as he starts to laugh too. There’s nothing funny about it, really, but you can’t help it. Max sits up and presses himself against you, his head on your shoulder and his arms around your waist. It’s an awkward angle but it works. And then you’re gasping for air because you haven’t felt the weight of him in weeks, and he’s burying his face in your neck. You feel the tears land on your skin, and you’re not sure if they’re yours or his.

“You should quit your job,” he says, and you’re borderline hyperventilating now. “Take some time. Come with me. It’s not long now, and then it’ll be the break. The rest of it, we can figure out. Together.”

“You’re being too nice,” you tell him. “You should be mad at me. I’ve been-“

Max shushes you and pulls away. Panic claws at your chest at even the smallest loss of touch. He cups your face in his hands, though, and kisses your forehead.

“We have time to talk about all of it,” he says. “But what matters to me most is making sure you’re okay. The rest will come later. We can have the more difficult talks when we’re less tired and more stable.”

He kisses your temple. You nod and rub at your face. You lean over into him, forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, one more time.

“I am, too,” he says. “For not noticing before it got so bad.”

You feel lighter. The weight isn’t completely gone, but it’s been lifted a bit. Shared, maybe. When you open your eyes, Max drags you into his chest and lays down on the couch with you in his arms. You can finally breathe again. The air feels clean and sweet like strawberries.

Eventually he coaxes you to bed. A fresh wave of tears hits you when you’re brushing your teeth in the bathroom next to him. He just holds you close through it. It should feel strange to crawl into bed next to him, you think, but it just feels like coming home, the way it always has. You think back to the lonely moments when he was away and you laid here alone, and you wonder how you ever gave any nights with him up. But you’re here now, and so is he, so you roll to face him. You press your face to his chest and breathe him in.

…..

In the morning, you’re in the bathroom when you hear him wake up. You hear the panicked noise he makes, the shuffling as he scrambles out of bed. He’s at the bathroom door in seconds, tugging on the handle and opening it. His shoulders heave as he stares at you, your toothbrush in your mouth, eyes wide.

“I thought,” he chokes out, eyes even wider than yours. “I woke up and you were gone and I thought-“

You yank the toothbrush out of your mouth and spit into the sink. “Shit. I didn’t even think- sorry-“

He doesn’t say another word, or leave you the chance to. Instead, he closes the gap between the two of you, takes your face in his hands, and kisses you. It’s been ages since you’ve felt his lips on yours. You’re putty in his hands immediately.

He drags you back into the bedroom, and you trip over his feet. His hands fall to your hips to keep you steady. He walks backwards towards the bed until he runs into it, knees buckling. He hauls you into his lap. When your knees settle on either side of his legs, when you feel the warmth of him underneath you, you swear you could cry.

His hands shove frantically at the hem of your sleep shirt. Yours do the same with his. His skin is hot to the touch- he’s still sleep-warm and soft. When you pull away from his lips, his eyes are half lidded.

“Max?” You ask, pressing your fingers to his side.

“Please,” he says. “Need you.”

You press a line of soft kisses to his jaw. He shudders underneath you. His hands pull at your hips, pulling you closer. You draw one hand up his spine, taking the shirt with you. He pulls it over his head. Yours follows his to the floor quickly after that. His hands fall to your waist, thumbs pressing into your ribs. You want to tell him everything. Want to tell him how sorry you are, how much you’ve missed him, how you could never live without him. How it tore you apart to try.

“I need you more,” you whisper into his ear, hoping it’ll be enough.

When you fall apart underneath and around and into him, he wraps his hand with yours and does the same. I love you tumbles over your lips and melts into his, the lips that repeat the same words back to you. You swear you taste strawberries.

…..

Max wakes up two months later to cold sheets and an empty bed, but he doesn’t panic. He can hear the whir of the coffee maker, can hear you humming in the kitchen and talking to the cats. There’s a sense of calm somewhere deep in his chest, one that hasn’t been there for a while, even after you came back to him. It’s the humming, he realizes drowsily. You used to hum all the time. You’d gone quiet for a while, but it’s back now. You’re back now. Piece by piece.

He rolls over, opens the bedside drawer. There’s the tray of corks, his watch, loose change and batteries and a faded post it note with something scrawled on it in your handwriting. And in the back corner, under a loose piece of paper, there’s a little black box. Inside, there’s a ring.

You’re not ready yet. You’re still healing. So is he. But you’re humming in the kitchen, making coffee, and he knows someday you both will be. For now, that’s enough.

You pop your head in through the doorway just after he shuts the drawer. “I have coffee for you.”

“Can’t we have it in bed?” He asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You laugh. “We have things to do today, Max. If I get back in bed with you we’ll never get any of them done.”

Max laughs, raises his eyebrows as he stretches his arms above his head. “Sounds like a good day to me.”

You roll your eyes affectionately and disappear again.

When he eventually joins you in the living room, his coffee is sitting on the table. You’re curled up under a blanket. He sits down and pulls you into his chest, wraps his arms around your waist from behind. He reads your book over your shoulder and takes a deep breath.

Any day with you is a good day.

Read the next part, On The Horizon, here!

a/n: sorrrryyyyyy! but I did promise a happy ending told you they’d be okay! thanks for reading!! title from the song that was definitely in the back of my head when I wrote Always Walk Me Home, which is probably how they ended up loving strawberry wine 🍓 & the song is sad so the angst had to happen. pls come talk to me ab this universe or any of my fics my ask box is open!!

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando

[starzblvd]

Counting Seconds | Ellie Williams

synopsis; A new special way to welcome the new year in Ellie’s old bedroom during a party

an; Wishing everyone a happy new years !! I’m going to be eating grapes under the table and following superstitions🤍

established relationship, panty play, some spit play(?), scissoring, fingering (receiving), dom!ellie sub!reader

જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Back in Jackson Ellie agreed to help host a New Year’s party with Joel, Dina, Jesse. Of course any of your friends or family were free to join.

Considering the party was held in the house Ellie was raised in during her youth she took the liberty to dress more comfortably. The party was open invite, more people than you’d thought ended showing up. It was a lively party, everyone had plenty of things to talk about since the night was still young. The music would have been irritatingly loud if not for it being New Year’s Eve. Opposite of Ellie, you dressed up and did your hair up. Black mini skirt and your favorite top, now fixing a few flyaway hairs in the bathroom mirror, then you heard someone’s knocking outside the door.

“I’ll be out in a sec!”

Ellie turned the knob and let herself in when she heard your familiar voice, walking in to hug you from behind making eye contact through the mirror. “Think you’re gonna make it to midnight?”

“We have to make it to midnight El’s.”

જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ Now that it was closer to midnight your vow to stay awake didn’t sound so important. The loudness of the music had the opposite effect, instead keeping you alert it was almost like a lullaby easing you to sleep. Ellie didn’t look sleepy in the slightest, she was swirling her drink by the glass rim staring at the performances on the television.

With her back turned to you, leaning in you clutch her waist in allowing your head to rest on Ellie, using her back as a pillow. Maybe this way you’d find it easier to make it to the end of the night. Ellie caught on early how you were currently struggling to stay up with how you sighed, then breathing back in her sweetly tart perfume scent.

“Cmon, getting tired already? We’re just half an hour away,”

Putting aside her drink on the table, she held her hand on top of your own. Ellie nudged you buy rolling her shoulder to hopefully open your eyes from their half lidded position, but you responded by groaning against her spine and squeezing her to let you stay like that a little longer. Long enough for you to see the clock strike zero.

Standing behind her, Ellie looked from the left of the room to the right checking the coast to make sure not one person would notice to arise suspicion for her next moves. People were on the other side of the room so she took this as her sign to go. “I need to show you something.”

A quieted low laugh came from her while prying your hold away. Ellie held her arm out to you still looking everywhere else to make sure she’s slipping away quietly. Treading more on your toes than your heels you followed her up the steps of the staircase ascending away from the party. Upstairs the music was muffled, Ellie geared towards her room kicking the door open with the tip of her shoe. The hinges squeaked like in annoyance with how she never used the handle, inside her old room the walls were painted a muted blue.

Posters pinned up of almost everything she’d ever taken an interest in, memorabilia of her teen years in every corner of her room. The current studio in your shared apartment shared so many similarities to this room, it was cute really.

Ellie rolled her eyes at your staring, grinning she anchored you down with her weight onto the bed to sit next to her. Immediately she was leaning into your body kissing you fast onto your lips, then your cheeks, then the bottom of your jaw. By now you’ve gotten a hint of her intentions of bringing you alone.

“El’s there’s people below”

“A few kisses isn’t gonna scare them,”

Being so close her words ticked on your skin and so did her seemingly never ending peppered kisses. Regardless of being on a different floor, paranoid you kept your giggles hushed to not be heard by any other soul than Ellie’s.

Slipping from her original spot she sunk down to the ground onto her knees, poised right before you. Putting your hands together for her to kiss the soft skin of your fingers, Ellie was savoring you slowly as to make sure not to miss any part of you. With both legs pressed together you could feel a new need for her. Subconsciously squeezing and tensing your thighs together didn’t help the surge of impatience for attention from you. It would be embarrassing for how quickly you got like this if Ellie wasn’t the same.

“El’s,”

“What are you so whiny for?”

She whispered and even her chuckling was brought down to the same volume you spoke. Except Ellie didn’t plan on keeping so quiet the entire time. She rode the fabric of your skirt up delicately letting the sheen of the moons light gloss your thighs. Whether you choosing to opt out on wearing safety shorts tonight specifically was intentional or not, she pulled the sides of your panties up making a clear, tight display of your puffy lips. Allowing, no, begging her to get closer you further separated your legs apart, leaning back onto the support of your forearms staring down at Ellie giving her lips a coat of saliva with a quick lick.

At first she plunged in with the tip of her nose bumping your clit before moving her face up to properly kiss it. Bringing the panties even more higher up your torso the fabric scrunched to be enveloped in between your folds, exposing how’d your body quickly opened up yearning for Ellie.

Keeping the panties in front of your cunt she put some pressure in sticking her thumb in, only a bit. Ellie was acting insufferable only giving you teases, pushing down onto her finger only made her retract her hand and body back.

“You gotta hold off a little, can’t go giving it up so easily,”

“but, I want to.”

”you sure about that?”

Placing her hand back onto your crotch bottom side wrist up, her index took no time to force the soaked underwear out and to the side, easily plunging into you with her middle finger too, squishing the wetness while doing so. Whimpering louder than you’d like to let out was more embarrassing and nerve racking given the situation outside the door. Wiggling her fingers up and down outed the absolute messy sticky slush you had created in the few passing minutes.

Touching up on the spongey spot inside you with her long fingers completely lost in you, by now you’d wish Ellie moved faster.

On the shelf of the headboard there was a digital clock that had the seconds in the corner ticking by, counting down. 11:53. Ellie shifts upwards putting a knee up on the edge of the bed between your legs, doing this she slid out from you to grab the clock.

Ellie smiled at the red illuminated digits scoffing at it, soft and raspy “I can use this.”

Watching her pushing herself up from the ground to sit besides you, Ellie grazed your skin trailing up your thighs to completely remove and get rid of your panties. Slowly, she moves a bit back to lower her head to kiss your exposed clit, to suck it into her mouth with her lips so she could touch it with the tip of her tongue, plopping it back out with a coat of Ellie’s spit.

Bringing her head up to meet your face she smooshed your lips into another kiss, but you were needy now. Wasting no time to unbuckle her belt, not bothering to take it out the loops instead just pulling down her jeans along with her underwear. You could feel her heavy breathing on your top lip,

“I’ve been needing this all night.”

Ellie kicked her jeans off with each leg, pushing down onto you while cupping your hips. Now you were laid down completely on your arched back, raising your right leg up to her shoulder. When you easily offered yourself up for her like this she couldn’t ignore her urges anymore and immediately straddled her body onto you groaning a moan out when she could put her throbbing cunt on yours. Starting to rock on top of you, moving on you felt like continuous weaker orgasms that fluttered by. Meanwhile you were teased and touched the entire time so far, Ellie didn’t get to receive any attention on her own cunt, keeping everything inside her pants. Letting for her self made mess by watching you, playing with you, to pool and drown itself in itself before meeting yours. Whatever silence on the upper floor remained was filled with the slippery noises that came with the desires of each other and not to quiet moans.

“I need to fuck-…fucking see your tits.”

Her words came out trembling off her lips, like being almost out of breath, obliging by Ellie’s demands you grabbed the hem of your top pulling it off, trying to yank your bra right off too, disregarding the clasps in the back. Ellie copied your actions and brought her t-shirt over her head making her hair all disheveled, it was easier considering Ellie only ever wore sport bras.

Once your nipples got hit by the colder air and hardened she scooped both boobs into her palms to make some cleavage while they bounced back and forth. Looking up, the glowing stars placed on the ceiling started rocking back and forth too. Ellie let go one of her hands to pick the clock back up, staring at the seconds it was 17 seconds til midnight struck. Slowing down the speed she was going at she turned over the clock so you’d see the seconds go down for yourself.

“what are you showing-“

“We’re going to..make it to..zero.”

Ellie was seriously dedicated to pin pointing both of your climaxes the moment it became midnight. Placing the clock below your boobs staring the seconds down with furrowed brows, refusing to give you the satisfaction of cumming before she said so.

“10.” Ellie started counting down, thrusting only once.

“9” Not getting any faster. People started joining in counting down, quiet between numbers.

“8” One hand cupped her own breast while the other cupped yours.

”7” She squished the bundle of nerves in your nipple.

“5” Moving just faster to pick up pace, careful to not set her off.

“4” Forgetting to be careful.

“3” You could fell yourself on the very urge to unravel.

“2..fuck it.” Inconsiderate of the time Ellie pushed herself down on your clit with hers, sliding down on your slick, cumming right outside your cunt entrance. Downstairs people erupted into screams, they couldn’t hear Ellie’s broken stuttering moan, but maybe they could hear the high moan close to a yell you let out right after hers. The liquid slid down to the duvet, it was mixed with your cum and even more so with the last gentler thrusts.

Ellie collapsed right on top of you sandwiching the clock in the middle of your sweaty bodies. Kissing your cheek she blew a strand of hair from your face away, she looked tired but elated. Ellie lifted herself up to properly look at you,

“I can’t wait to love you for another year.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

hiihihi can i request prompt 55 for megumi?? maybe reader texted him late at night and wanted him to sneak into her dorm after curfew? (maybeee gojo caught them a lil while later 👀 only doing rounds cause he was nosy and wanted to snoop lmaoo)

I’m an absolute sucker for Megumi, thank you for this request! It’s a little goofy, kinda got inspired by my dress up darling xD Hope you like it though, please let me know :) 55. "I'm tired. Don't make me angry."

Caught

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: Megumi knows it isn't allowed to visit you after curfew late at night, but the temptation is just too great. However, it is percisely this night that Gojo noticed the both of you and finds you in a rather unfavorable situation.

Warnings: language, mentions of smut, it's getting a little heated

Yo loser, you still awake? 🖤

Stop calling me that, yes I am (y/n).

Wanna come over? I’m bored as hell :(

Not my problem, remember curfew? I don’t want to get into trouble because of you.

You sign at your screen and roll your eyes in annoyance. God, Megumi is such a pain in the ass when it comes to following these stupid rules. You are mature enough to decide on your own when and who you want to visit. And how would they know? All the teachers are sound asleep anyway. Not even Gojo has the nerve to stay alert all night just to make sure that Megumi won’t visit you, right?

You just have to be silent. Shouldn’t be hard for you.

I’m tired. Don’t make me angry (y/n).

Pleeeaaaassseee Megumi, I’m begging on my knees :(

Megumi throws his phone to the side in irritation. Why do you always have to bother him this late at night? Of course his heart beats out of his chest just thinking about seeing you alone, but why does meeting you always bond with getting into trouble?

Still…maybe he is even able to hold you in his arms until the sun begins to rise. He’d ditch sleep a hundred times if it meant that you are by his side. As noiselessly as possible he sits up in bed and glances at Yuji who is breathing peacefully and is keeping his eyes closed. Megumi stands up, puts on his slippers and walks to the door. The girl’s corridor is down the hall, quite a stretch that cannot be explained if someone catches him there.  Why does he keep doing things like this for you?

It doesn’t matter. As if in trance his feet carry him to your door. His knuckles brush gently against the hard wood, eyes swaying around in alert.

Your heart skips a beat when you catch a glimpse of him in the dim moonlight. He really came! With a wide grin on your face you grab his hand and pull him into your room.

“Megumi!”, you cry out in excitement.

“Shh, you want everyone to know that I’m here? Maki is next door”, he hisses.

A glimpse of you is enough to make Megumi blush in an instant. You are covered by nothing but an oversized Shirt, your butt just barely covered by it. Are you only wearing underwear underneath this? He always knew and appreciated that you are comfortable around him, but the sight of your naked thighs does thinks to him and lets his mind wander. Why do you have to be so ridiculously attractive anyway?

“Come on, Maki sleeps like a rock and who cares about you being here anyway? Except for me, of course. You can’t even imagine how happy it makes me that you really came”, you shyly admit.

He looks as breathtaking as usual, maybe even better with his loose black sweater that shows off his tight muscles underneath so perfectly. Nothing ever happened between Megumi and you. You’re just friends that meet up late at night and lay in your bed until the sun rises, talking about everything and everyone. Megumi never touched you, never cuddled you, never intertwined his hand with yours. But oh how much you wished he did. Since you joined Jujutsu High alongside him, your feelings for the black-haired boy grew day by day. Now you can’t imagine life without him, your heart starts to dance whenever you see him.

“You know, I just really like your company”, he responses, scratching his head awkwardly and avoiding your gaze.

Your heart skips a beat, face lighting up by the sound of his sweet words. It is rare that he says such things to you, Megumi isn’t the vocal one anyway. Actually you are, but not when it comes to him. He is the only person that lets your outspoken and confident self get soft and all flustered, not even brave enough to give him a hug.

“Wanna lay in bed? You said you were tired.”

Not anymore. Your sight alone is better than the best sleep and wakes him up every time.     

“Sure.”

His gaze brushes over your moonlit features as you climb into bed, sliding against the wall and invitingly padding the sheets next to you. It makes him nervous to lay this close to you, knowing that you wear nothing but a shirt and that you are absolutely breathtaking beautiful. His heart almost beats out of his chest when the mattress gives in under his weight and your bare arm brushes against his skin while he lays down. Everything smells so good. He can immediately scent your sweet shampoo on the cushion under his head as well as the delicious fragrance of your body spray that hangs in the air and tingles in his nose. But the sight of your glistering eyes is what sends him over the edge.

“God, you are so beautiful.”

The words escape his mouth faster than he can react, hands covering his mouth in shock. Did he really just say that? Fuck, you must think he is really awkward, that all he thinks about are your good looks.

“I-I mean…You’re pretty smart as well…”, he stutters, face flushing immediately.

A cute little giggle escapes your mouth, cheeks heating up at his sudden outburst. Here and there a few compliments slipped out of Megumi’s mouth and left him all flustered. You adored the blush creeping up his face and the way he always scratched his head awkwardly in silence.

“(y/n), you need to be a little quieter. I don’t want Gojo-sensei to find us here”, he whispers, gaze creeping to the door.

“Don’t worry, he never did!”

Little did you know that Satoru just woke up from his light sleep and your giggling that echoed through the otherwise quiet halls of the dorms. He straightens himself and puts on a pair of sweatpants, a yawn escaping his lips. Why the hell is someone awake this late at night? Putting on his slippers, he leaves his room and roams around.

Another giggle. His eyes narrow. This sounds like you. Why are you giggling? Maybe someone is with you. Gojo doesn’t waste any more time and traces into the girl’s corridor. The ruffling, giggles and muffled voices grow louder as he moves towards your door. That other voice, it sounds so familiar…His eyes widen in surprise. Is that Megumi? What are you doing in there, after curfew alone in your room late at night? Fuck, he didn’t prepare Megumi for any for this. Does he know how this works? Is he using protection? Gojo’s pace picks up in an instant, panic mode completely activated.

“(y/n) and Megumi-chan, I know you’re in there. Get dressed within the next ten seconds”, he announces.

Your eyes widen in pure horror. Fuck, Gojo is here. Why the hell is Gojo here? He never caught you over the span of many months. Why today? Why when Megumi’s arms are this close to you, ready to hug you tightly?

“I told you!”, Megumi hisses through gritted teeth, panic written on his face.

“I’ll lock the door”, you proclaim with determination and lift yourself up.

This will give Megumi enough time to hide somewhere. You frantically swing your leg over his body, almost losing balance on the soft mattress underneath and your body tangled within the blanket in your rush.

“Fuck”, you mutter and search for hold, hands landing on his chest.

Instinctively, his hands grab your hips tightly just in time before you fall onto the ground.

Time stands still, your eyes stare right into Megumi’s ones. You’re sitting on top of him, thighs pressed against his with his big hands resting against your hips, squeezing them. You can feel something twitching underneath you, Megumi’s heartbeat bangs against your hands. Oh god. Is this really happening? All you can do is hold your breath and stare at him, every cell of your body refusing to move.

You sit on top of Megumi Fushiguro.

His hands grab your hips.

You know exactly what is moving beneath you.

“We didn’t even talk about this Megumi-chan, get back into yo- OH MY GODNESS.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gojo entered the room, gaping at the both of you with his mouth wide open and completely frozen in his tracks.

“I-It’s not what it l-looks like…I-I promise!”, you stutter, full panic mode activated.

You stumble off him, body swaying back and forth. Did you really just sit on Megumi? With Gojo catching you mid-action?

Megumi hectically covers his lower body with a blanket, face dripping in sweat, embarrassment and heat. You just sat on him. He got hard and you probably noticed. Gojo saw all of this. He doesn’t know what to think or say anymore, mind completely occupied by what just happened. Did you really sit on him?

“Listen kids, I don’t care about curfew or anything, but please make sure to use protection and be…y’know…quiet.”

Even Gojo stumbles over his words at this point, avoiding gazing at your poorly dressed figure.

“We didn’t do anything. It just looked strange”, Megumi finally speaks out.

You want to be swallowed by the ground and hide in a tiny hole for the rest of your life. Your sensei thinks that you two got intimate. But not only that, it looked like he caught you mid-action. But more important than that…You sat on Megumi and he was very excited about that. Does that mean that he…likes you?

“Sure. Listen, let’s talk about this tomorrow or even better, never again. Just make sure to be quiet…Ehm, have a nice night I guess.”

And with that, Gojo closes the door behind him, leaving the both of you with his fast steps echoing down the hall.

Silence fills the room, you don’t dare to look at Megumi.

“Maybe…You wanna cuddle for a bit? Doesn’t make any difference anymore I guess.”

Your heart skips a beat. Did this words really just left his mouth, the mouth of Megumi Fushiguro, the boy who never even tried to put an arm around you? This night truly just keeps getting crazier.

“Aren’t you worried about what Gojo-sensei thinks?”, you question, face still hot in embarrassment.

“I’ll talk to him in the morning. We don’t have to if yo-“

“No”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I would love to lay in your arms.”

And that’s what you did. His warm arms welcomed and held you tight through the rest of this eventful night, heart still racing uncontrollably.

“I think I like you more than a friend”, you admit into silence, face buried against his chest.

“Me too.”

“Yeah, I noticed that”, you remark before you can stop yourself.

Megumi pushes you off his chest, face red as a tomato almost instantly.

“Can we please just stop talking about that, (y/n)?”

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

Omega Ours - Part 2 | Alpha!Cassian x Alpha!Nesta x Omega!Reader | Short Series 3.4k

Nesta and Cassian try to stay away from you, but your heat is just so irrisitable...

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language & themes. Omegaverse dynamics including Alpha & Omega and the sexist assumptions/implications that go along with it, heat/heat cycles, claiming & knotting! Explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, anal sex, use of toys, oral sex, dp, creampie, dirty talk, bit of degredation/humiliation/teasing very much under-negotiated. NSFW. Filth.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources patient beta reading and mutual squealing from @christywantspizza ❤️

Created for @polyacotarweek - prompt 7 free day so ... Have some disgusting smut because I wish I was in a Nessian sandwich!

Cassian & Nesta - from Pinterest

Part 1 | Masterlist | Poly Fics | Cassian

“Nesta -” Cassian’s voice was a low warning growl, you kept your eyes closed as the bed dipped. 

You felt worse, if anything, not better. Their scent was everywhere. On the sheets where you’d heard them make love night after night, on the pillow where the scent of Nesta’s soap lingered. Your heart was racing, your palms hot and sticky with sweat and that sick, dizzy feeling made the room spin. You couldn’t open your eyes if you tried. 

Then there was a cooling hand on your forehead, fingers long and delicate, Nesta. Without thinking, you sighed into the touch, rolling towards her. 

“Nesta, we talked about this, we need to get off the bed now.” Cassian’s voice was so far away, floating from the doorway, but Nesta’s was a balm against your aching mind, whispered in your ear. 

“She doesn’t want me to leave, Cas, and you don’t want to leave either.” 

“No, I don’t, but she made it quite clear -” 

You were drowning in them, their presence, their very beings, the hum of magic that Nesta seemed to emit wherever she went, the swell of power behind Cassian’s syphons, it called to you. Your body was its own, separate from your will, arching off the bed with a whimper. 

“Fuck,” Cassian was closer now, his hand touching your cheek, you nuzzled into it, the callouses on his hands were rough but his palm was a dry warmth, comforting. 

The throbbing that had started in your chest moved down and you recognised the dull ache between your legs. A flush rippled over you, sending goosebumps in its wake and the humiliating feel of slick between your thighs. 

“Hmm - exactly, Cas, fuck.” Nesta sounded as gone as you did, her nose tracing the line of your jaw. “I know you’re awake, sweetheart,” she cooed. Her hands slid over your body, tracing down your side and then up over your stomach and between your breasts. Naked under the blankets, your nipples pebbled when she rubbed a thumb over each nub. 

The bed moved, and Cassian’s hand joined Nesta’s, cupping your full breast and squeezing gently. You moaned in response, trapped between them, your thighs wet with arousal, sliding over each other. 

And then your eyes flew open and the reality of your situation dawned on you. 

“What-?” 

Nesta’s head dipped to nuzzle at your neck, her teeth scraping over the delicate skin and that primal side of you wanted to go lax, to let her scent you and bite you and claim you. But you wouldn’t allow it, couldn’t allow yourself to give in. 

Cassian’s hand was still holding you, his wings flaring behind him, taking up every inch of your eyeline, each movement sending tingles down your spine. His smile was low, hungry and his hazel eyes flicked down to your lips before looking over your shoulder at his mate. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll take good care of you,” his voice rumbled. 

Angry, you sat up, your head swimming, and pushed their hands away. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you insisted, "I can take care of myself.”

With difficulty, you scrambled from the bed, dragging the sheet with you to keep your naked body covered. “If you insist,” Nesta purred, her finger trailing down your back as she passed, moving slowly towards the door. “You can probably deal with this alone, omega.” 

Cassian followed, towering over you as he tipped your chin up with one long finger. “You could deal with it alone, this is your heat after all. But if you need some help, you only have to ask.” He ran his hand over your cheek and down your neck before following Nesta from the room. 

As soon as the door was shut, you threw yourself back on the bed. You knew from their own activities that there were toys and oils in the little table by the bed and it was here you went first, pulling open the drawer and rummaging around until you found a beautiful crystal toy, it was long and phallic, not an unfamiliar shape, but you’d never been able to afford something beautiful before. 

It was blissfully cold against your heated skin, sliding between your folds and you welcomed the stretch as you eased the toy inside, sighing as you lazed back into the bed. You moved the toy slowly, finding a rhythm that had you clenching on the unrelenting material. The haze took over again and you allowed your eyes to close, revelling in the relief of being full. 

Cassian was right, this was a heat and you were sure you could handle it yourself, even if you’d never had to deal with a heat near an Alpha, let alone two, where their heavy presence remained even when they were gone, their scent, the feel of their hands. You tugged at your own nipple, remembering the feel of Nesta’s fingers. Before you could stop yourself, you were sighing her name, imagining that she was still curled up behind you, taking control of the toy between your legs. Then there was Cassian. When you were feeling so vulnerable and dizzy he had kept you steady, his agreement that this was something you could weather seemed genuine, but so was his offer to help. 

They hadn’t been what you expected, this strong, warrior like couple and you moaned again. “Cassian.” 

The toy stopped, a delicate hand moving yours away and taking over, the new angle brushing against your swollen clit. 

“I knew you wanted us,” Nesta’s clear voice made it through the haze, your will to fight fading as she worked the toy harder, pressing up just as a large hand smoothed over your lower stomach. Stars exploded in your vision and you reached out grabbing at them both as you rode out your orgasm. 

Above you, Cassian leaned over, cupping Nesta’s face and pulling her into him. They kissed with such passion you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

Hazel and blue-grey eyes turned towards you, their gaze piercing, taking in your sweaty forehead, open mouth and pleading eyes. 

Nesta ran a thumb over your lip. “Do you require some help, sweetheart?” Her voice was a tease, making you throb with need. You didn’t hesitate to nod. Her thumb was replaced with her tongue, teasing along the seam of your lips before dipping inside, claiming and tasting you. Cassian continued moving the toy slowly inside, the ripples of your orgasm still making you twitch. 

Nesta’s lips were replaced with Cassian’s, his pressure harder, more insistent and you luxuriated in the feel of them moving around you, taking control of your body. Cassian slid the toy from you and the feeling of emptiness made you whine with need, grabbing at the two alphas. 

“I knew you’d be wet for us,” Nesta hummed, and you opened your eyes in time to see her lick your arousal from the length of the toy. Her hand cupped you between your legs, fingers teasing. “Your pussy’s so wet you’ve soaked the sheets, I knew it.” Her grin was feral, like a cat after cornering a mouse. 

“Let me taste.” Cassian brought Nesta’s fingers to his lips and sucked lewdly. 

You were empty again and this time your whimper did not go unnoticed. “Does someone need their pussy filled?” Nesta pouted at you, her eyebrows raised. 

“Yes, yes, please - I - please,” you begged, the fog of your heat taking over your ability to think. All you could see was them, all you could feel and all that you wanted. 

Nesta turned you to face her, cradling your body into her chest. Instinctively, you licked at a rosy nipple, taking the bud into your mouth and sucking hard until Nesta gasped. 

“Good girl,” she soothed, petting the back of your head, “You’ll need to bite down on something when he pushes in.” Her hand hooked your thigh up over her hip, opening you up and then you felt the blunt, wide head of Cassian’s cock nudging at your entrance and - she was right. 

“Oh Gods,” you moaned, pushing your face further into Nesta’s chest, breath heaving as you adjusted to his size. 

“You’re doing so well.” She stroked your back over the curve of your bottom and then back up with her nails, soothing then scratching in turn. The mixture of pleasure and pain was enough to confuse your already addled brain and, before you could register it, Cassian was flush against your back, panting in your ear. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good on my cock, so tight.” He kissed behind your ear, the gentle gesture so at odds with the rough cant of his hips. “We’ll fuck you through this heat, don’t worry.” 

“I can- I can do it on my own,” You insisted meekly, meeting Nesta’s storm grey eyes. 

“Of course you can.” She bent and kissed you gentle. “You’re doing so well, getting through this heat. It’s okay to ask for help. We’ll help you, won’t we, baby?” 

“Of course we will,” Cassian grunted, his thrusts slow and steady but deep, so deep, so full. 

When their eyes met, Nesta mirrored Cassian’s smile, knowing and understanding and teasing and Alpha. They’d take care of you, you knew they would, and you’d be satisfied and satiated by the end but you would be theirs, there would be no arguing your way out of this. 

Your eyes rolled as Cassian hit a particularly delicious spot, sending shooting pleasure up your spine, “Gods, Cassian - I” 

“Come for him,” Nesta instructed and you couldn’t stop yourself, your body obeyed before your mind could argue, pleasure washing over you so fast you had to dig your nails into Nesta’s arms to hold on, so sure you’d be pulled along by it. 

You recovered slowly, floating in a daze of post coital bliss only to find yourself sat above Cassian, the general sprawled below you, his hair like a devilish halo on the white pillow cases and his handsome face contorted with pleasure. That deep ache was still inside, making you grind your clit down against him and it was then you realised he was still buried inside of you, his cock twitching with every movement of your hips. 

“You look so pretty when you come for us.” He held your hips in his hands, keeping you seated despite your surprised attempt at getting up. “You can’t pretend anymore.” 

Nesta’s hands joined Cassian’s, twining together to hold you down, her chin resting on your shoulder. How did she move like that, so silent and stealthy? “I know what you need now, you need to be fucked and filled, isn’t that right?” 

You keened, leaning back into her arms, allowing her hands to travel up to your breasts and circle your nipples again. 

“I said, isn’t that right?” Her hand moved over your collarbone, coming to rest at the base of your throat where her fingers pressed down on your pulse. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes - I - I need to be -,” you stuttered, still reluctant to give in to the omega side of you that really did need this, needed to have their body used and filled and be given pleasure. 

“Come on.” Cassian thrust up inside, his cock so deep you were sure you could see it in your belly.

“I need to be fucked and filled.” 

“Good girl.” Nesta rewarded you with a kiss to your cheek. “Now for the last part, you need to be fucked and filled, by…” 

“I need to be fucked and filled by my Alphas. Oh Gods, please, please, I need to move.” You ground your hips again and Cassian obliged, fucking up into you, his feet planted on the bed to keep him steady. 

Behind you, Nesta moved again, her fingers tracing down your spine and the scent of lavender oil filling the room. Her hands cupped your bottom, helping to lift and lower you onto Cassian’s cock, controlling each movement. Cassian’s hands covered hers, spreading you open and pulling you forwards so you were completely exposed to Nesta’s hungry gaze. 

“Such a pretty pussy.” She dipped her finger into the slick flowing over Cassian’s cock. You couldn’t stop the feel of it, dripping between you, easing the way for him. Her finger returned, circling the tight pucker of muscle Cassian’s exploring hands exposed. “Let’s see if we can fill you some more.” 

The first press of her fingertip felt strange, but as she curled and worked her finger deeper pleasure spread up from your back. She was right, it felt so good to be full, a second finger joined her first, scissoring until the pressure was gone and only pleasure remained. 

“Nesta - please,” you begged incoherently, unsure of what you even needed from her, chasing the feeling. 

“Shhh, sweetheart.” Her fingers were replaced by the still body warm head of the crystal toy. 

“Fuck, Nes, push it in harder.” Cassian gritted his teeth, his grip moving you lightly and then you both shouted in pleasure, the toy pushing against the thin wall separating it from his cock. 

“So full, so full, so ful,-” you babbled, much to Nesta’s amusement, her dark laugh in your ear had you clenching around the hard cocks inside of you. 

Cassian’s hand took over from Nesta’s keeping the toy inside and allowing you the freedom to grind down onto him again. 

Free to move, Nesta appeared before you. 

“There’s our little cock hungry omega, nice and full and satisfied.” She ran a finger around your open mouth before dipping it inside to tap your tongue. “Now you stay there,” she instructed, moving up the bed to hover over Cassian. 

“Yes, Nes, you come here. Been working so hard to take care of our little omega, come and sit down.” 

Cassian’s face vanished between Nesta’s thighs, the muscles tensing and relaxing as she lowered herself. You watched, fascinated, as her perfect face twisted with pleasure, the controlled look in her eyes and crooked smile gone. She closed her eyes, cupping her breasts, rolling her nipples as she’d done to yours. You ached to reach out and touch her, to lick the dusky bud again, to taste her and feel her, to run your fingers through her hair. 

Your hand twitched forwards, grabbing her thigh and squeezing. Nesta moaned in return, her eyes shooting open and locking with you while she rolled her hips, taking her pleasure from her mate, using his mouth and tongue until she bit her bottom lip and tipped her head back, panting and moaning through her release. 

She fell backwards onto the bed, resting her head on her arm and continuing to gently circle her nipple, riding the waves of her orgasm. 

You watched, catching Cassian’s eyes as he too turned to view his mate, her legs spread and wet pussy glistening in the candle light. With a tap to your hip, you reached up, releasing his cock with an obscene squelch, but you had no ability to be humiliated by your position, half full of her toy, crawling towards her as if possessed. Your own legs were so wet they slid as you moved and Cassian took the opportunity to nip at your thigh as you made your way to Nesta. 

She was smiling, long lashes fluttering on her cheeks as she rested, but she must have felt you approaching because she beckoned you on, cupping the back of your head and pulling you down for a sloppy kiss. 

Her long fingers gathered your slick, smearing it over your folds, your clit, back towards where the toy still split you open, and cupped your cheeks, parting them for Cassian. 

The male was behind you again and gave the toy a few experimental thrusts, revelling in the way you whimpered and moaned, depending on how he angled the head. You could practically feel his grin when he pressed a kiss to the base of your spine, nipping at the round globe of your ass and pulling the toy free, leaving it to roll off the bed onto the thick rug. 

You whined, completely empty and still needy, humping forwards into Nesta’s teasing hand, her kisses just as biting, just as harsh, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth and worrying the delicate flesh. 

Cassian’s voice was gravelly when he whispered in your ear, “Ask us nicely, omega. Ask us to fill your wet little cunt and your greedy hole.” 

“Please, please, fill me, please, fuck me!” you panted, hips moving of their own accord, seeking any friction they could find. 

Nesta cupped your cheek. “Open your eyes.” You obliged, meeting her own lust filled gaze. “Now beg.” 

You cried out in frustration, “Please, Alpha, please I need it, I need you, I can’t do it - help me - please - help me. Fuck me, please, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me-” You dropped your forehead to hers, pleading, praying. 

Then, you felt Cassian’s cock again, not parting your folds as he’d done before, but running it between your cheeks and pressing against the gap left by the crystal toy. 

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked again.

“Yes, Alpha, fuck me, take me, please, I need your cock - I need - ahh.” The first push was long and deep, he was merciless, splitting you open. 

“Gods, you feel good everywhere, ‘mega.” Cassian’s kisses returned, wet and hot along your shoulders. “Nesta -,” he grunted and the female slid her hand back between your legs, shoving three fingers into your already sloppy pussy without hesitation. 

“Look how well you take us, sweetheart. Letting your Alphas use all of your holes like a good little omega. Just a hole for us to fuck aren’t you?” she cooed, pinching your cheeks again. “Cassian’s been dying to fuck me like this for years, haven’t you?” He only grunted in answer, his pace increasing. You could barely breathe now, every inhale punched out of you by the force of his fucking. “But I wouldn’t let him. Good job we’ve got our own little plaything now. You take him so well, made for it, aren’t you?” she continued to tease and you burned with the humiliation of it, the deliciously dirty feeling of being spread open, used, vulnerable under their hands. And yet you had never felt pleasure like it, the complete surrender of your thoughts, your body, to your two Alphas. 

The thought had you tingling. Were they yours now? Were you theirs? 

Cassian’s pace slowed, his hips faltering as he hurtled towards his release. His long hair brushed against your cheek. “Never letting you go, omega. You’re ours now.” His teeth scrapped down the side of your neck and you shivered, making the decision in a split second, and tilting your head to the side. Cassian’s bite was strong, his teeth breaking your skin quickly before his tongue lapped over the sore spot. He nuzzled into you as he sucked the bruising kiss, inhaling your scent. 

Nesta reached up, guiding your head towards Cassian’s and exposing the other side of your throat before biting down too. Her claim was rougher, her teeth tasting, exploring before biting down and sucking. 

“Yours - yours - yours -” You allowed their claiming bites to consume you, to wash over your senses, and felt the calm of being mated rising to meet you, buoying you up. 

“Good little omega,” Nesta praised, tapping your cheek until you opened your eyes. Hers were surprisingly soft, her mouth wet and lips pink. 

“Such a good - fuck - good fucking omega, our omega,” Cassian grunted, sending you over the edge.

“Yours - yours - yours -” Your orgasm ran towards you and you clenched down on them both, forcing Nesta’s fingers out as your walls rippled. You bent and sucked on her collarbone, needing something, anything, to ground you. 

“Fuck -” Cassian followed, his hips driving forward, pushing you down further into Nesta’s chest and painting you with his release. His cock swelled, impossibly large and pressing against your entrance. His cum leaked around the edges of his knot, mixing with your own release in a sticky, claiming, mess. There’d be no denying your feelings now. 

He withdrew slowly, carefully, his hand cupping your swollen sex as he did and the gentleness of the touch surprised you. 

The three of you lay there, panting and sweating, slick soaked and satisfied until Cassian broke the silence. 

“Does this mean you’ll sleep in the damn bed now?” You turned into his chest, resting your face against his tattoos, and laughed, nodding. Behind you, Nesta curled over your back and smiled into your shoulder. 

“Good.”

[naomiarai]

Conscious – cbg.

Synopsis : Your best friend's idea for trying to help you stay awake for your finals might be a bit twisted right?

Pairing : beomgyu × afab!reader [non idol au]

Wc : 1.6k

Warnings : dom! gyu, sub!reader, praise, pet names (princess, angel, pretty girl), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.

Disclaimer : the lovely anon who sent an drabble on this. it got deleted, but I decided to write a fic on it. [I wrote this in one sitting while I was drunk so..]

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Finals week was up tight for you. You swore you'd fail if you don't stay up all night studying. Hell that's not seeming to work

Luckily, you had someone to pent up with your version of opposite-insomnia. Beomgyu is annoying, but you still want him around. He's probably the only one keeping you sane when you keep falling asleep instead of racing your eyes on words.

You've managed the ones you couldn't avoid and here you are with the last one. Beomgyu seems careless today. He's sprawled up over your living room couch, his legs crossing over yours. Laptop situated on your lap, your eyes kept closing, only something that touched you lightly jolted you awake.

You scream out in frustration, muttering numerous curse words to yourself. Beomgyu jolts up, wide-eyed. A frown forming on his face.

“Your opera made me lose my game!” he says with an annoying tone. “Gyu, that's the least of my worries right now, I keep fucking falling asleep.” you reply back, clenching your teeth. “Don't disrespect your elders now” he says with a grin on his face. Beomgyu was a year older than you, but that doesn't give him a pass to act so entitled to his age when you act up.

“Nothing's working. I stopped taking melatonin, and all tube lights are turned on” you admit in a low voice. “ I don't get how you fall asleep that easy now. You had insomnia level 100 when you were little” he says in a wondering tone. You groan at him, wishing it were the complete opposite now.

"You know, I heard endorphins can keep you awake” he blurts out randomly. You turn your head towards him, with a small frown on your face. "Endorphins?” you ask. “Yeah, they keep some people awake”. Why did he sound so suspicious? “They're found in chocolate, laughing, listening to music...sex..”

You choked on air as you heard his last word. Sex? Now that's a fact. You haven't had sex in quite some time now...

Beomgyu looks at your bewildered face and scoffs. “What? It's true” he says. He thinks for a split second before he asks “Speaking of sex, when was your last time?” How did he sound so casual? "W-..why are you even asking?, i had two boyfriends in the past soo..” you randomly cut of, going into thought.

“Right, the first guy, who was it? Ah- Jaehoon! An asshole if you ask me” he sounded annoyed saying it even though it didn't look like it. You could tell. But why? “second..was Sunghyun? I didn't like him either” he says as he puts his fingers underneath his chin.

“Why the fuck are you going over my history of boyfriends? ” you ask. Also, he sounded weird talking about Sunghyun as well. He replies after a pause, “Which one actually made you cum?” you froze at his words. Does he actually know what he's saying? “Beomgyu!” you scream, “Why would you even ask?!”

“Oh, so none of them did?” he asks curiously. “Nevermind, ________ just tell me”. You think on his words, the only thing you never told Beomgyu was about your sex life. It's not like he asked anyway. "I-..I've had sex like twice...?” you mumble. He looked puzzled, “Don't tell you've only that two times of sex in only one relationship that lasted like, two and half years..? He got his answer, just because you didn't say anything.

He scoffs out laughing, “Did you cum at least?” he asks with a sigh. You pause for sometime.. was it really that embarrassing? “N-no”. You get back to your senses, getting angrier by the second. “But what does that have to do with me falling asleep?” you retort. “Absolutely nothing!”.

He has that shit-eating grin on his face. God, you just want to wipe it off with a kiss. Wait. What were you thinking? No.

“I'm just saying you know, it works like this, you overwork and start falling asleep too easy then I tell you that sex produces endorphins and they help you stay awake, anddd, he adds, dragging the d sound, you haven't had proper sex”

You roll your eyes at his explanation like it didn't mean anything. It doesn't. ”You're acting like I could go get dick just because I keep falling asleep” you reply back. “It's not like I have a boyfriend now, Gyu” you add on.

“But I'm right here”. He says ever so slowly. You're taken aback, frozen still in your place. “What the fuck are you even saying?” you say, almost whispering. His face and tone remain nonchalant, contradictory to yours. “You say you have no boyfriends, right?, and I'm probably the only guy you talk to”

Should you say yes? It's once and he'll probably never ask again. And he's kind of cute. You'd date him. But you would never tell him this. No, but you did get braver at the moment.

“Is this your excuse at asking if you could fuck me?” you ask calming yourself down with a laugh laced in your voice. He seems to take your presence in for a moment. “Did it work?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“If you want it to” you say quickly before you could do anymore pausing. His grin grows bigger; he slides the laptop off your lap and places it on the transparent coffee table with a soft thud. Connecting his lips with yours, you moan into the kiss at the sudden feeling. His arms wrap around your waist as you sit straight up. “Strawberry?” he asks tasting your chapstick. You simply nod, cupping his cheeks to resume the kiss. “Woah, looks who's actually eager here” he laughs.

He picks you up without breaking the kiss, having your legs on his both his sides. You break the kiss saying, “Not on the bed, I don't have new sheets ready” He chuckles at your prediction. “Who said it had to be on the bed?” He sits back down, with you still straddling his lap. His hands slip underneath your shirt, cold hands caressing your warm body. “I didn't expect you to agree so easily” he asks continuing to kiss your neck. “W-...well you did something about those endorphins...” you whisper. He laughs at you, quite obvious he hadn't bought it.

You sit up straight on his lap for a second, thinking. “But won't we make a mess on the couch?” you ask expendentaly. “If you let me go inside..?” he asks with a smirk. You slap his chest multiple times, his idea has some structural value to not making a mess but won't it.... leak out? God, no you should never think dirty. At least you won't have to change the bed sheets.

He claims your lips again in passionate kiss, hands going down to remove your sweatpants. Your left in a crop top and panties. What a sight. He breaks the kiss to lay you down on the couch. “I'll make you cum, astonishing you never have after you had sex twice” he says dramatically. You roll your eyes at him, to which he scoffed at in a high pitched voice. “Just wait, I'll make you roll your eyes for a valid reason” he says before undoing his belt and discarding his jeans and boxers.

You tried to look away. He had a pretty dick. But will it even fit? “Don't look away at the man who's going to fuck you now” he says playfully, hovering above you. You stare at him for a couple seconds, taking in his features. He moves your panties to the side, taking a look at your glistening pussy. “Need to prep you, angel” he says. Taking his fingers closer, he slips in a finger, extremely tight unsurprisingly. “You groan at the sudden feeling, he adds another finger stretching your walls out, you feel pleasure slowly forming from the slight pain. He continue s to stretch you out, with you letting out loud moans form time to time. He retrieves his fingers back just when you're legs shook. You look at him confused.

“I'm only having you cum on my cock” he says before slipping his hands underneath your shirt and removing your bra. He starts to play with your hardened nipples with slick covered fingers, to which you would scold him for, but it felt too good.

He pulls his hands back, spreading your legs open and removing your panties whole. “Ready princess?” he asks softly to which you nod slowly. He enters you with ease,, still going slowly. You feel so so full. He groans out loud, he mutters a 'so tight' before slowly thrusting in and out. “Mmnh–ngh fuck–” you moan out, the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit, making your roll your eyes back. His pace gets faster, so as his grunts and your moans. “Shit–pretty–you feel s-so good” he grunts. The sound of skin slapping against skin takes over your senses, raw pleasure filling you. “Don't stop! nngh– so s-so good!”

The wet and lewd sounds of his dick going in and out get louder, as he slowed down, dick starting to twitch slightly inside of you. You felt a firework inside your stomach, like a coil so desperate to burst. You think you're about to cum. “G-gyu, think I'm gonna cum fuck—!” you moan. “Yeah? cum for me princess, g-good girl aren't you? cream all over my cock-!” You feel his cockhead slowly hitbyour cervix with each slow thrust as you feel the coil in your stomach collapse, coming all over his cock.

He came after you, filling you up, and it leaked out onto the couch. “That was great” he blurts out tired. You slowly recover form your orgasm, getting back to your senses. “Is this going to be a one time thing or—” You're cut off with a kiss, him saying “Absolutely not. I'm keeping you angel” you simply smile at him.

“But gyu didn't you tell sex kind of helps you stay awake, I really don't think that's for me..?” He takes in your words, “It is for some people...” he says before his eyes light up with a grin plastered on hif face. “So round two?”

[pumpkin-writes]

i'm sorry

jax teller x reader

warnings: mature language, some mildly steamy smoochin', mostly just soft, fluffy, sappy jax. you know, what the show robbed us of.

word count: 1.1k

notes: as requested by @thisreadswhatever

i hope you enjoy, love! i had so much fun writing this 🤭 thank you again so much for your request & positive feedback on my other jax stuff ❤️

you had hardly slept. you tossed and you turned, you stared at the ceiling, you stared at the empty space in the bed that jax normally slept in. the two of you fought for hours the previous night, and ended up going to bed angry. you never went to bed angry at each other, and really you two didn't fight. but with all of the stress of the club, jax hadn't been himself lately, and he unfortunately took it out on you after dinner last night. what started as an admittedly snide comment from you about dirty dishes or something irrelevantly domestic like that turned into a screaming match between the two of you. you spewed things like "arrogant" and "mama's boy" at him, you finally broke down and told him how much you hated that he never talked to you about club stuff. and when he erupted back, he called you things like "nosey" and "ungrateful" all things that stung when you heard them, but what got you is when he called you a bitch. it wasn't what you were used to from him by any means, he typically adorned you with pet names and practically worshipped the ground you walked on.

jax knew he fucked up, the second the word left his lips. things with the club had really been getting to him, and suddenly, he felt like his world was falling apart. all his knew was the sons of anarchy, it was his legacy. but since he'd found and read his father's journals, he wasn't so sure of that anymore. he wasn't sure of most things, and he hated the uncertainty. he hated how on edge he'd been lately, working late, sometimes not even getting a chance to see you before you were off to bed. but he always came in and slipped under the covers with you and wrapped you up in his arms. god, he wished that's how last night went. just when he thought he'd been lucky enough to spend the evening with you having dinner, he had to go and fuck it up. he didn't even realize how fired up he'd gotten and how out of hand your argument got until he saw tears instantly swell up in your eyes in reaction to him calling you a bitch.

he took the liberty of sleeping on the couch, not knowing where to begin when it came to his apology. just as you barely slept, neither did jax. instead, he stared at the ceiling until the sun came up, just thinking about how he could make this up to you. was he really willing to lose you over an argument? an argument that shouldn't have even happened, he thought, but either way, the answer was absolutely not. by the time the birds started to chirp outside, he couldn't wait anymore. if he was going to do this, it had to be now, while everything he wanted to say was still fresh in his brain.

the sound of the bedroom door creaking open behind you made you go stiff. should you just act like you're asleep? before you could even decide, you felt the familiar feeling of the duvet lifting and jax sneaking under it. you bit your lip, unsure if you should just turn around and say something; tell him to leave, or tell him how upset you still were. but you stayed frozen on your side, waiting for his next move. that's when you felt him scooting closer in toward you, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. with a final, swift movement, he'd wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body flush against his.

"good morningggg," his voice was low, yet still possessed a sing-song tone that made the corner of your lips start to curl up into a smile. his hand started to work it's way up, then so gently down your arm, and jax found himself nuzzled into the crook of your neck. "i know you're awake." he mumbled into your skin before pressing a kiss to your neck, sending shivers down your spine, another kiss following not a moment after. "i'm sorry."

you sighed and finally gave up. you couldn't just sit there and pretend to sleep while he was trying so hard to get you to face him. although you still felt conflicted about all that had been said the night before, you hated not talking to him. not sleeping beside him. and he knew just how to make you weak, peppering your neck and shoulder with more and more kisses. it was kind of nice to have him so desperate for your attention and forgiveness. maybe you'd let him keep trying to prove how sorry he really was.

you shifted a bit in his grip before fluttering your eyes open to meet his baby blues. how are you supposed to stay mad at at face like that? but you kept it together, following through on making him work for it. "are you now?" the tone of your voice was so very obviously teasing him, and he knew it once he saw the cocky smirk you sported. if you wanted to play this game, he was down. "i am so," he began, all while he snaked his arms around your waist entirely, grabbing a proper hold of you. "so, so," his head dipped down and your foreheads met in the middle, "so sorry." seeing jax this way made you gush on the inside. you were starting to feel bad, almost, and you didn't see yourself playing hard to get much longer.

you were practically stuck in jax's arms, he'd been holding onto you pretty firmly and didn't intend on letting you go until he made things right with you. you'd been eye to eye, faces only inches from one another and all you could think about was his lips. his soft, beautiful, generous lips that you just couldn't take your eyes off of. and jax noticed, of course he did. he knew you wanted to kiss him, or him to kiss you, and hell, your wish was his command; no need to say it out loud.

without another second of hesitation, jax leaned into you and pushed his lips to yours hungrily. it's all you need to give in and accept his apology, returning his energy and moving in synchronization. you felt him softly bite your bottom lip, and it incites a soft moan to escape from your lip. you feel jax smile against your lips before pulling back from you, leaving you longing for him to keep going. "i knew i could make it up to you." his words made you roll your eyes, and all you could say in response was what you'd already been thinking all morning. "maybe you should be sorry more often."

[strwberri-milk]

Midnight Blues

Rafayel x Reader || Mild Insomnia, Comfort || 1 184 words

a/n: my toxic trait is pretending im a singer and compiling songs into albums and naming them and midnight blue is the name of the hypothetical album that encapsulates falling in love with rafayel and i guess i could make a playlist bc thats the normal thing to do but i just name fanficitions after them ig. also this is based off his treasure secret time - idgaf about the mensturation i only care about the fact that hums your ass to rest and the lore drop that is rafayel calling you at night when the two of you first start met bc it would help you sleep

You can hardly remember what nights were like before without the sound of his voice in your ears.

You sigh as you sink into your bed, staring up at the ceiling after doing another quick lap around the house to try and tire yourself out. Your body is tired, you know it is. You just wish that you could sleep, not at all excited about the prospect of having to go to work tomorrow after being unable to sleep all night.

You’re about to start your nightly routine of tossing and turning when your phone suddenly starts to ring. A smile makes its way onto your face as you recognise the caller ID, putting your phone against your ear and humming lightly to alert the other side to your presence.

“You’re still awake, huh?” Rafayel’s teasing tone asks through the phone. The two haven’t known each other long but that didn’t seem to bother Rafayel in the slightest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, putting your phone on speaker next to you on the pillow.

All it took was falling asleep one time in a conversation with him for Rafayel to pounce on that and decide to take advantage of it. You swore up and down that it was a mistake, that it wasn’t because of Rafayel that you fell asleep but deep down you know that something about that silky smooth timbre of his voice made your worries go away. You’d never slept so soundly, mortified at the teasing text that he sent you when you read it in the morning.

However, you had to admit defeat and let the man do whatever he wanted. Even before you met him it was clear that Rafayel didn’t care much for whatever the people around him want. He does as he pleases and now, it seems that he’s convinced you won’t sleep without him talking to you.

“If you wanted me to call you all you had to do was ask,” he says after a while, letting you get settled in bed.

“I’m grown. I can take care of myself,” you reply, Rafayel imagining a slight pout on your features as you did so.

“Ah, I see. So you don’t need me to talk you to sleep then? I’ll hang up then.”

“Wait!” you shout quickly, shooting out of bed and grabbing your phone.

“Don’t…don’t go. Please?”

“Begging now? I guess if you’re that desperate for my company I’ll give it to you.”

You can hear how smug he is, rolling your eyes at how obvious his tells are. You wonder how Thomas hasn’t figured him out yet – Rafayel isn’t nearly as sneaky as he seems to think he is.

“Are you driving?” you ask after a second, settled back into bed again and listening carefully to his end of the call.

“I’m heading back from an exhibition. I could have booked a hotel but I didn’t feel like staying the night there so I’m making the long drive home. I called you to see if you’d keep me company.”

You tug your blankets around yourself, losing yourself in their warmth as you yawn. The exhaustion begins to sit on your shoulders again but this time, it feels more manageable. His voice swims around your head as he starts rambling about the exhibition. You’re glad to hear that it went off without a hitch, having declined his invitation yourself due to a more urgent task of the day.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, bringing your attention back to him.

“Hmm? Yeah, sellers bullying you, people hitting on you, same old same old,” you mumble, burying yourself further into your bed.

“If you didn’t like it that much, why didn’t you just make something up to get out of it?”

“I couldn’t bail on Thomas again. I felt bad for him constantly fielding off journalists and this show was supposedly a big deal so I decided to do him a favour. Plus, I blew off all the shows so far this month so I might as well make myself seen at a more important one.”

Leave it to Rafayel to make doing his job seem like a favour to someone else. Even if he acts like he’s got his head in the clouds you know he’s genuinely kind – if you’ve got the patience to go digging through the layers that make up the enigmatic artist. You feel thankful that the world brought you to him, even if you weren’t sure what the budding feeling in your chest is.

“You had a long day, huh? I can hear it in your voice.”

You give him another hum, not wanting to bother with any words.

“Even if I ask you a question you don’t need to reply. It’s getting late and I won’t be home for at least another hour. I really did just want your company you know. I’m glad that you answered my call. It would have been miserable if I had to drive home all alone.”

It doesn’t take Rafayel much time to start rambling at you again. You don’t know how he manages to find anything and everything to say to you and keep himself entertained, laughing at his own jokes and taking the soft noises you make as jumping off points to completely go on a new tangent.

When he hears your light snores and steady breathing, he smiles to himself. The sound of your breath surrounds him in his car and if he weren’t such a responsible driver, he’d close his eyes just to pretend that he’s laying in bed with you.

Normally, Rafayel was perfectly content driving home in silence, finding the long expanse of road the perfect opportunity to ground himself after all of the cameras and people in his face. Honestly, he only left when he did to make sure he’d be able to call you at the same time he did every night. Your inability to sleep well worried him and even if you didn’t fully understand the extent of his feelings towards you, he wouldn’t let that get in the way of taking care of you. You make him happy after all, especially when he hears you try to rouse yourself from sleep in a desperate attempt to show him that you’re listening to him. The mental image of your sleepy eyes trying to focus on his face makes his heart melt, impatiently tapping his finger against the steering wheel at the annoyance of being unable to call you his just quite yet.

Even when he gets home, he doesn’t hang up on you. He’s careful to do his nightly routine quietly, using the sound of your breathing as his favourite symphony and he settles down for the night himself. He even continues to speak to you softly, wanting to make sure that his voice lulls you into a truly restful slumber. He thinks about you a lot and being able to help you in any form always makes his heart feel so full.

He won’t admit that talking to you on these late nights makes him sleep well too, putting his phone on the pillow beside him before falling asleep to thoughts of you.

[bloodywings]

night remedy

CW/TW!!!: self-doubt, feeling undeserving, I think this counts as anxiety, reader has a breakdown, hurt/comfort, deprecating thoughts. kiribaku x reader, bakugou doesn't talk too much, low-key semi-deaf bakugou, takes place in the future

2.7k words

Gender Neutral, plus size and POC friendly!!

I think that's all! please let me know if i missed anything!!

a/n: I started this in September while I was having a breakdown lmao

anyway, thanks for clicking! enjoy!

“2:25” the red numbers of the alarm clock in front of you read. It was becoming too late to sleep by the second. But sleeping was the last thing you could do.

The room was almost silent. The definition of white noise was blaring throughout the room you were in. The soft blow of a fan that was practically always on. The rustling of a plastic bag, barely blowing in the soft wind the fan let off. And two soft sets of breathing. Your lovers lay next to you, Eijirou on the opposite side of you, and Katsuki in the middle.

This became a regular thing within a few months of the start of your relationship with them. A small disagreement ensued. Bakugou had been upset because he rarely got to sleep in the middle. You and Kirishima had both assumed that he wouldn’t have wanted to be. His quirk made him hot very easily, so two sets of body heat didn’t seem comfortable. That’s what the two of you thought anyway.

Turns out the blonde doesn’t like when decisions are made for him.

He had begun thinking that the two of you loved each other more than him. And he snapped one day. Only to be extremely flustered when he realized the truth of the situation.

You and Eijirou still tease him about it every once in a while.

Usually, the memory made you smile. But the weight in your heart made it practically impossible to do so.

A soft stirring from your blonde lover snapped you out of your trance. His arm is placed in a different place around your torso, attempting to get comfortable and stay sleeping. His stirring caused the red-head attached to him to stir a bit as well. but still, both remained sleeping.

The blonde’s breathing was the most prominent of the two. Blowing directly in your ear. But Kirishima might as well have been next to you anyway. His soft snores filled the room, usually, it was like music to your ears.

Usually? Yes, those soft snores have lulled you to sleep on many occasions. Now? You couldn’t focus on the soft breathing of your boyfriend if you wanted to. The dark thoughts were the thing keeping you awake. You took another glance at the clock, “2:41” the red numbers blared at you.

At that moment, you wished that the red hue would swallow you whole. Practically begging for it to take you somewhere where your head was empty, not a single thought. And the only thing surrounding you was the love of the two boys laying in your bed.

“y’know, one day they’re going to get rid of you?” the voice in your head whispered. The same one that had been torturing you for the past few hours. “one day they’re going to realize that you are of no use to them, and then they’ll leave you.” “Shut up” you inwardly groaned. “you’re only saying that because I’m right, they’re going to go off and be happy, without you”

Logically, you knew they loved you. They wouldn’t be with you if they didn’t. But your brain couldn’t help but scream about how worthless you were. How they would be better off with just themselves. Or maybe even a different third person.

Someone that's not you.

You could feel tears well up in your eyes at the thought. But crying was not a good idea right now. The heaving of your chest might wake up your explosive lover lying peacefully beside you.

So you pulled the blonde’s arm from around you slowly, so as to not wake him. You succeeded, walking slowly to the door. Just trying to go to the living room of your shared apartment to cry, and then come back up as if nothing happened.

But just as you opened the door a groggy voice called out to you. “Where you goin’?” the grouchy blonde questioned. He’d probably woken up from the lack of body heat at his right side. “See, you ruin everything for them, they can’t even get a peaceful night of sleep ‘cause you're a crybaby” the voice taunted.

“I’m just gonna go and get some water,” you responded softly, turning around. whispering as not to wake your other boyfriend sleeping peacefully. “Sorry to wake you,” you mumbled. Katsuki sat up a bit, only to lay back down when the red-head let out a whine. His red eyes were piercing you, they almost made you want to break down.

“m’kay, don’t take too long,” he grumbled, snuggling himself back into the chest of his boyfriend. Which the red-head gladly accepted, wrapping his arms snugly around the blonde.

With that, you made your way to the living room. A place where amazing memories were made, it should have made you happy, but you couldn’t help but feel downhearted.

As you glanced around the room, the standard flatscreen tv caught your eye. It was one of the two that the three of you had to buy.

Memories flooded from when you got the first one. Katsuki had tried to mount the first one himself. Insisting, “You think those extras could do better than me?” And he did it, the TV even held well. He’d even boasted about it, claiming “you idiots should stop doubting me.”

Bakugou ended up eating his words two days later

You had all arrived home at around the same time. Just happy for the day to be over, the gruesome hero work had taken a toll on the three of you.

Only to walk in and see the TV laying on the ground, face first. The screen completely shattered. Your explosive lover expected you and Eijirou to be angry at him. But the two of you were too busy laughing your asses off to scold him for it.

you looked around at the rest of your living room. There were a total of two couches in your living room. One three-seater, and a loveseat. Polaroids strung on the wall brought more tears to your eyes. The pictures varied from the first date you had to the most recent. Each one was dated with Eijirou’s sloppy handwriting.

The very first one was when Kirishima had finally broken down during your second year and spilled his feelings for you two. And you and Katsuki both accepted.

The three of you went on a date to the fair. And Eijirou was so excited, he hadn’t been to one since he was a kid. He was practically bouncing on the train ride there. And he dragged Katsuki and you all around the fairground. Winning prizes for the two of you left and right. From stuffed animals to keychains to a fish that he had won for you.

He wanted to win another for Katsuki, but the blonde claimed “I don’t want some stupid fish that’s gonna die in three days” He scrunched his nose up in annoyance and disgust while declining the red-head's offer. Instead, Eijirou won his boyfriend a large fish plushie, as a replacement for the fish he had won earlier for you.

While your explosive lover claimed to hate it, the stuffed fish sits up at the top of your shared closet.

The most recent one was for your 7th anniversary, it was Katsuki’s turn to plan a date. And he chose to cook and take the two of you to a cliff. Fairy lights were strung on the trees, and a large tent to fit the three of you. Simple, but so thought out. He had brought you two there with just enough time to see the sunset. And then you spent the night in the forest, escaping the city life for just a night.

Those memories are what broke you, they had made you feel so loved and yet you felt as if you didn’t appreciate it. “Do you see what I mean? you don’t even have any faith that they do love you” the voice returned, mocking the thoughts it had implanted into your head.

You found yourself sitting on the three-seater, leaning over, and softly crying into your own hands. Your thoughts running a million miles a minute. You could hardly make them out.

Over and over.

But they all seemed to agree on one thing.

That you were worthless

Every piece of sadness came down on you in waves, from feeling undeserving of their love, to now feeling guilty because they’ve done so much for you, and you still don’t have anything faith in them.

But, nonetheless, you didn’t break down, just small, silent tears, with even softer sniffles.

Though you knew it was unlikely, you didn’t want any chance of either of your lovers catching you in such a vulnerable state.

But little did you know Katsuki had woken back up, realizing you weren't back from the kitchen, and had gotten up to check on you. And much like Katsuki, the lack of body heat had woken up the sleeping giant that lay next to him.

The blonde told his boyfriend to go back to sleep, but his boyfriend refused, mumbling something along the lines of “it's too cold without you.” Or at least that's what Katsuki thought he heard. Ejirou had a habit of speaking the intelligible language when he was half asleep.

The two tired men made their way through the house, with the red-headed giant stumbling the whole way there.

Out on a mission, you lovers made their way down the stairs, passed the front door, through the kitchen, and out to where you sat, with your face in your hands

“Sweetheart?” a tired voice slurred out. You lifted your head from your hands, and through your blurry vision, you see both Eijirou and Katsuki standing in the doorway. Both of them still rubbing the sleep from their vision. The red-head was the one that called out to you.

“What are you doing out here?” Katsuki asked, making his way to you with the sleepy giant not too far behind him. As you looked up at them, Katsuki noticed your cheeks glistening in the soft moonlight that came in through the window.

“Were you crying?” Katsuki questioned. His question caused the red-head's eyes to widen slightly, fully awake and alert after hearing the word ‘crying’’. Eijirou looked at your face, noticing your wet face in the same fashion your blonde lover did.

“Why are you sitting down here, crying to yourself?” Katsuki interrogated, and while you knew that there was no malice behind his question. But you couldn’t help but flinch at his rough tone, you knew he wasn’t actually agitated with you, but his tone of voice was not helping the thoughts screaming in your head right now.

Eijirou nudged the blonde, silently telling him to shut up.

“What Katsuki means is, what's the matter sweets?” the red-haired male queried. kneeling down in front of you. And at that moment, everything came crashing down on you. Your poisonous thoughts, the lack of sleep, the guilt, all of it came crashing on you.

And before you could blink, a racking sob emitted from your chest, which caused both boys to immediately panic. More and more sobs flowed from you like a messy symphony, and to the ears of your lovers, it was like listening to nails on a chalkboard. Just the sound alone was enough for adrenaline to pump through their veins in panic.

“Hey, hey look at me, ____.” Eijirou pleaded. His heart was hammering in his chest. He’d comforted people before, but this was different, he was afraid you weren’t breathing enough with how hard you were crying. But you couldn’t obey his command, you were way too embarrassed to even think of showing your face. After realizing this, your red-headed lover asked “Is it okay if I hold you?” The small nod you gave was enough for Eijirou to pull you into his arms quickly, whispering soft “its okay”-s and “we’ve got you”-s over and over.

You could feel how hard his heart was beating and it only made you feel worse.

Meanwhile, Katsuki was no better, he sat silently, a hand rubbing circles on your back. He didn’t want to say anything that could possibly make the situation worse. He knew his attitude was harsh, and he knew he had a reputation for saying the wrong thing in situations like these. If anyone had walked in on the scene, they would think he doesn’t care. But lord knows he cares a lot, maybe even more than Eijirou, his palms were sweating, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, almost as if it was trying to jump out of his rib cage.

It felt like forever until your sobs slowed down to small coughs and shaky breathing. Now that you were done crying, the situation began to dawn on you. You had woken up your partners in the middle of the night because you were doubting yourself. Sadness began to fade over into embarrassment. You hoped they could just drop this, and you’d go to bed.

But unfortunately, Kirishima was the first to break the silence. “baby? you okay?” he questioned with a strong amount of hesitation. He didn’t want to cause you to break down again. “yeah, ‘m fine” you sniffled softly, snuggling further into the chest of your red-headed lover, attempting to hide from everything that had happened.

Kirishima only hummed as an acknowledgment, trying to find the words to help you. But before the words could make their way into his chest, he heard a soft mumble from you. A very muffled and almost unintelligible, “M’sorry” fell from your lips. It was so soft that Katsuki hadn’t even heard it, which was good for you, he probably would have had your head on a pike for apologizing for something like this.

“There's nothing to be sorry for baby, nothing at all,” Ejirou whispered, one of his hands coming up from your waist to rest on the back of your neck. Rubbing small, comforting, shapes into your skin with his thumb. “like I said, we’ve got you.” your boyfriend reassured, with all of the love he could muster.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Katsuki mumbled into the crease of your neck, where his head had been sitting for a while. A small, “not really” fell from your lips before you could really think about the question.

All you knew was that the thought of speaking about your feelings was enough to make that small knot come to the back of your throat. making it borderline impossible to hold the small tears that welled in your eyes. you blinked, attempting to make them go away, but instead the small droplets were soaked up by Eijriou’s shirt.

After a small amount of silence, your red-headed partner suggested you all go back to bed. As the three of you walked back to your bedroom, well more like your two lovers, Kirishima refused to let you walk, he carried you through the kitchen, into the front doorway, and up the stairs, with Bakugou following not too far behind.

As you entered your shared bedroom, which had grown cold due to the fan being on high speed, you began to feel sleepy. you were fighting your closing eyelids when your lover placed you in the middle of your soft mattress. both men coming to lay on either side of you.

And when their arms wrapped around you, smothering you in between them, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort. almost as if the love they had was wrapping itself around you, but not in a suffocating way, it had just enough pressure to let you know how much they care for you.

While the love of your boyfriends couldn’t make all your problems go away, it could get you through the night. and that alone made the future seem a little brighter.

A/n: Hii, so how was it? Please let me know in the comments! If you have any ways I can improve as a writer please let me know! (remember there is a difference between constructive criticism and being rude)

Notes and reblogs are appreciated

I hope you're having a good day! And if not, I hope tomorrow is better! bye darlings <3

[corroded-hellfire]

Idk if this is something fluffy you’d want to explore but maybe a sweet Sunday morning with AYW eddie and reader like after divorce is all settled and they’re secure in their relationship but haven’t gotten much alone time and the boys maybe spent the night with Wayne so reader and eddie get a sweet Sunday morning cuddle sesh all to themselves??

I love these two and I love snuggly times so thank you for sending this in 💜

Words: 1.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The morning sun rays are peaking in between the blinds, casting stripes of light and dark across the dove gray comforter on Eddie’s bed. The sheets are warm and soft against your skin as you turn on your side to face your boyfriend. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you watch his pale bare chest rise and fall. Eddie is always beautiful, but when he’s sleeping, there’s something angelic about him. Awake, he ruins that illusion by making a comment about your ass or swearing at the slightest inconvenience. He’s lying on his back, head turned towards you with his pink lips parted just slightly. It brings a smile to your face to see his wild curls smattered all around the pillow and his left arm raised above his head. 

“God, I love you,” you whisper. Moving slowly so as not to disturb the slumbering man, you shuffle closer to his side and rest your head on his chest. Eddie’s legs shift under the blankets and his arm comes down to wrap around you. 

“Mornin’, baby,” he mumbles without opening his eyes. A smile comes to your face at his sleepy voice, and you press a kiss right over his heart, the demon tattoo staring up at you. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” you tell him. 

“Mmm, was half awake anyway. ‘Sides,” Eddie says, eyes cracking open, “wanna take advantage of this lazy Sunday morning with you.”

You reach up and push some of Eddie’s hair out of his face. Somehow, he always manages to get strands stuck near his eyes and mouth. He pulls you tighter against his side and you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Can we stay here all day?” you mumble against his skin.

“Wayne’s not bringing the boys back until dinner time, so we could spend most of the day here,” Eddie says, running his fingertips up and down your spine. “But I kind of wanted to make you French Toast.”

“As nice as that sounds, can it wait a few hours? Wanna lay here with you.”

“Of course, my love,” Eddie says. “Y’know, if you move in, we could do this every day.”

Tilting your head up to look at him, you raise an eyebrow. “First of all, that’s not true because Timon and Pumbaa wouldn’t let us. Second of all, we talked about this, Mister.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie sighs. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I still want us to take it slow for the boys, but God, I want to wake up like this every day.” 

“Me too, baby,” you say, rubbing your hand over his chest. “Hate sleeping without you.”

Eddie turns on his side and pulls you flush up against his chest. A soft smile on his face, he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You reach up and thread your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Minutes pass as the two of you exchange lazy kisses, taking your time exploring each other’s mouths like you have all the time in the world. When you eventually break apart, Eddie presses slow kisses down the side of your face.

“What if,” Eddie muses as he nuzzles his nose against yours, “you start spending the night sometimes when the boys are here? They’ve known about us for a while now. Think it’s okay to take that step?”

You chew on your bottom lip nervously and look up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you think they’ll be okay with that?” 

Eddie chuckles and squeezes you in his arms.

“These are the same boys who tried to set us up at Chuck E. Cheese. You really think they’re gonna be upset if they see you here first thing when they wake up? They’re going to beg you to make them breakfast because I can’t cook.”

“Don’t they eat cereal most mornings?” you ask.

“Yeah, but that’s because anything else I make them they won’t like. And I’m sure they’ll think you pour the milk better than I do.” 

You giggle as you press your lips against his. “M’kay,” you say against his mouth. “We can try that out. Sometimes I don’t leave until after they go to bed anyway. They won’t know any different until the morning.”

“Means you gotta bring some stuff here,” Eddie says, a smirk forming on his face as he runs his hands up your back. “Sexy nightgowns, panties, bras…” he trails off, bending his head down to kiss along your neck. Your laughter causes your throat to vibrate against his lips.

“Definitely going to need to bring more than that,” you say. “Though I wouldn’t be opposed to wearing some of your underwear to class.”

“Don’t tease me,” he moans in your ear. 

“And besides, don’t you like what I wore to bed last night?” you ask.

Eddie lifts the blankets and lets his hungry gaze travel up and down your naked body. “Fuck yes.” He looks up to see your eyes inspecting his body as well. Cockiness floods his features when you finally meet his stare. Despite the many many times you’ve been intimate with him, you still get flustered when he catches you checking him out. 

“What?” you ask meekly. “My boyfriend is sexy as shit. Wanna stare at him all I can.”

Grabbing the blankets in his fist, Eddie whips them off of your bodies and tosses them behind him to fall to the floor. You laugh at his ridiculousness and shake your head in amusement. 

“Stare away, baby,” he says with a wink. 

“Now I’m cold,” you pout.

“I think I can take care of that,” Eddie says, tightening his grip on you. You snuggle up against your love and tuck your head beneath his chin. 

“Have I told you lately that I love you so fucking much?” he asks, resting his head against yours. 

“You have. But tell me again.”

“I love you, gorgeous,” Eddie whispers against your hair. “M’so glad that you’re mine. Thank you for loving me.”

A frown comes to your face as you untuck your head to look up at him. “You never have to thank me. I loved you when I believed that this was never possible. I love you more now and I’ll love you even more tomorrow.”

“You were well worth the wait, sweetheart. I would’ve waited forever for you. And before you say anything, yeah, I’m fucking old, but I haven’t been waiting like a thousand years or anything.” He wrinkles up his nose and it makes you giggle. You lean up and press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I would’ve waited until I was old and gray for you, too. But I’m glad we’re together while we’re still young,” you say.

Eddie gasps overdramatically as a smile lights up his face. “You called me young! That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

His words send you into another round of giggles and you lay your head on his pillow, so you’re nose to nose with him. 

“You’re so fucking cute, Munson.”

[waynewifey]

aftermath — b.w

part one - ‘dear mr. wayne’

part two - ‘aftermath’

part three. - ‘aporia’

summary: you escaped that warehouse, but part of you died in there. now, your husband helps you grief your own loss while trying to not murder your relationship.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: drama & angst romance

warnings: mentions of sex and alcohol; mentions of ptsd, anxiety and it’s symptoms; hospital setting; dubious science; dubious law enforcement

word count: 2.9k

A/N: thank you for all the positive feedback on part 1! there will be a part three because this post would get too long, so let me know if you’ll like to be tagged in that. my biggest challenge writing this was trying to give bruce the start of a redemption arc, please tell me if you think it worked. comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!

gotham, USA.

the continuous beeping sound wakes you up.

your eyes are still closed, blocking the intense light over your head. your senses are taken by the familiar scent: sandalwood, cinnamon and lemongrass soap. it almost feels like you're home.

but your feet are senseless from the cold and the bedsheets faintly smell like chlorine. there's a pinching ache in your arm and the scenario is complete. oh how you hate hospitals.

"how are you feeling?" back at home, bruce had learned the difference in your breathing as you woke up, which made pretending to sleep hard enough for you to give up. you open your eyes, finding yourself in a luxurious room. if it wasn't for the IV on your left side, it could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel.

bruce sat at a large light green armchair, about four feet from your left hand. you couldn't tell by his voice, but he looked exhausted. for once, he's wearing sweatpants. the puffy face and swollen eyes show he hasn't had much sleep. you, on the other hand, feel like you've slept for a thousand years.

"i have no idea. what's up with me?" his sigh has your heart racing and the fear of being a liability falls over you. a comforting hand lays on yours, his warms fingers grounding you to remember the last time you were awake. it felt like a nightmare and you desperately hoped it was. instead, the pain comes in flashes, the image of your husband being shot and the feeling of hitting ice cold water do too. it's all just so horrible you wish it wasn't real.

"they told me you were going to be fine, but i don't know." bruce feels as if a burden has come off his chest finally seeing you move. the last couple of days have been a torture of expectation and blame for him. "the doctor had you in an induced coma. you had a concussion on the river. your stomach was stitched up. he said..." he stops for a moment, this is obviously way too hard for him to go through again. bruce hasn't left the room ever since he was discharged. everyday, for two weeks, he kept overthinking the night before and the day during. if he had stayed up and talked about your relationship, you wouldn't be in that bed. if he looked for you in the morning, if he noticed your absence at work, if he hadn't put his phone on silent mode... there were a million of things that he could've done different so the most important person in his world wouldn't have gone through all of that. "he said the ptsd would worsen your recovery. this morning the nurses told me you were better, so i have to believe them. that's my only hope."

you need a moment to take in the words, finally deciding that you didn't want to discuss your health. there were way better people to pay attention to that in the building and it would only make you anxious. you can't help but stare at his eyes, your mind bringing up the image of your husband choking the man that kept you hostage.

"you almost killed him." the tone is of disapproval, bruce couldn't be any more confused. he frowns. bile arises from his stomach leaving a acid taste to his mouth.

"i would've, of course i would. y/n, you had no idea what i would do for you. i would fight the devil himself if it meant keeping you safe. that's why i do what i do. the batman, the politics, it's all for you. if i can make this world 1% better for you, for our children, to live on, it's worth it." his gulp is loud, adam's apple going up and down, showing how dry his throat was. the following words have his voice shaking, almost disappearing. "but fate keeps telling me that i'm not enough. no matter what i do, you keep getting hurt and i just-" bruce stares the floor. that's something he always did when saying harsh things, avoiding eye contact and not letting tears slip away. however, this time it doesn't work at all. he can hear his heart tearing up with every syllable, the physical pain striking his chest. he wants to beg you to forgive him, but there is a noble thing to do. his words are cut off by the creaking of the door and the doctor's footsteps. he's smiling, like this isn't hell. bruce shrinks into the couch, making himself ignorable.

"so... i have good news!" the blonde says, clipboard in hand. "we need to run some other tests and an x-ray, but you seem to be healing pretty well. we'll hold you in for a couple of days just to make sure there aren't any complications with your body and then you can go home. how are you feeling so far?"

you're surprised by the sudden change in the conversation and your brain needs a moment to think about something helpful. you do a body scan trying to identify any pain, but overall you feel good.

"hungry. like, starving." the doctor smiles, saying he'll get you a meal as soon as possible. he warns you that you may not be able to eat much just yet, something about your stomach shrinking. you nod, already feeling irritated by the recovery process. then he leaves and there's a loud silence until you get back on the previous topic.

"you just what?" you expect bruce to sit correctly again, but he doesn't. he looks so small in the shadows, so comfortable. you really don't want to talk about that anymore, but curiosity takes over. he doesn't respond immediately, so your heart pounds over the anxiety of hearing bad news. suddenly you feel so tired, you want him to take over all the decisions like he usually does. today, though, he seems open to suggestions, like his own ideas weren't suitable. how could you know someone so well but still have no idea what's on his mind?

"i think maybe you shouldn't be associated with me. any part of me." the world stops with your breathing. bruce wishes he could take it back. going over this conversation in his head made it seem easier to say out loud. you've been married for three years. you knew his ambitions for even longer. you chose this life and he has no right to take that from you. still, the ring on your finger weighs you down.

— DENIAL

you've learned to appreciate the winter winds. at the top of the wayne tower there were barely any, but tonight they caress your face with the gift of numbness. breathing in is both refreshing and painful. the scratched teacup warms your fingers, a small memoir from your childhood home, from times that won't ever come back. you used to be down there, frightened by dark alleys and gunshots. now you're on top of the world and nothing, not even that psychopath, can take that from you. you did relearn discomfort. ache. cold. it all made you appreciate life even more. in fact, the month that followed your hospital discharge was pure bliss. something about renewal, about rebirth.

bruce watched you from the living room, the wrinkled glass distorting your silhouette in the balcony. that was a good representation of how he currently saw you, slightly blurred and shaken. his cup would usually hold whiskey, neat, but it holds coffee instead. you keep saying you're fine and waking up screaming in the middle of the night. then he would hold you and you would be actually fine. so now he's staying awake through the night, sleeping three or four hours during the day while alfred takes care of you. of course they don't let you know, because you've denied every explicit help. as you get ready to sleep, bruce gets ready to stay in bed through the night, alone with his thoughts. part of him was scared to sleep. he was sleeping when you were taken, there's no way he would let that happen again.

it has been almost a year since he stopped patrolling the city. the news cover murders and robberies every day. alfred makes sure to come up with something for both bruce and you to do at those hours. he's taken a pause in promoting his candidacy, he couldn't handle the public eye for now. still, the marketing team insists that your kidnapping was good media, even though he never officially spoke on it. they publish notes about being away, about taking care of family. he can't see how that could be good in any way.

you open the glass doors, flashing your husband a sweet smile. you're in a red silk robe and your hair is still perfectly done. perfectionism was one of the side effects, as one may call it, of the trauma. you visited a psychiatrist about a month ago, since bruce insisted on it, and he marked all of the habits that made you happy as unhealthy. you never told bruce what was said in that appointment in hopes that he'll get over it. him treating you like a porcelain doll made you nauseous.

"ready for bed?" you ask, standing behind the couch and hugging his shoulders. you breathe in his scent, remembering the day you met. you were an executive in an overseas wayne enterprises headquarters that had just gotten transferred to gotham. they offered you six figures to take the second in command position, so you obviously got to know the first in command. in the beginning, you honestly thought he was an entitled brat that didn't work at all. overtime, you realised how much he cared about the company and how much he was pining over you. you gave him an opening and he asked you out. six months into the relationship, he told you about batman. he knew, somehow, that you would be forever.

he sets in bed while you're touching up in the bathroom. the night had to be perfect. you've hadn't made love ever since the fight and ovulation week had gotten you a little crazy. you check yourself in the mirror, thanking the hormones making you sexy. you crawl into his side, slower than needed, hair falling over the shoulder. "hi" you whisper, sitting diagonally from him and cuddling a bit. he says hi back, with a chuckle. you give him a little peck, which is all you've been doing for all of this time. he stays still, not pulling back but also not doing anything either. you try to take it as a good sign. your lips then reach his jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses all over his skin. your hands touch his shirt and go underneath it, tracing your fingers along his defined abdomen. a hand holds your arm, pushing you away. your smile fades and you frown your face to him.

"touch me, bruce" you not so much ask, it's more like a plead. he sighs, channelling all his will to stick with his decision. he puts a string of your hair behind your ear and you think he's going to properly kiss you.

"i don't think we should do this. you're not well enough yet." he doesn't sound so certain, but it hits you like a hard brick wall. this is harder for him than he lets it show, he's a man after all. even so, he can't see you like that for the moment. he sees you scattered and feels like it's his responsibility to assemble you again.

"i'm perfectly fine." you state like a grumpy proud child who's just lost a soccer tournament. he sees right through it.

"you're not, you're in denial." that simple word makes your mood swing: denial. it's the same thing the stupid psychiatrist told you. you can even hear his smoker's voice echoing in the office. it isn't true. you got over it, that's all. maybe some people take more time to do so, but you did just like that. you had a life to get back to.

you get off the bed and pull your robe tight again. "i'm sleeping in the guest room. good night." he doesn't follow and lets you be. in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have the strength to turn you down a second time.

bruce tries to fight the tiredness. even with caffeine running high in his blood system, he falls asleep for a while. the guest room is far enough that he doesn't hear the muffled sobbing. he wakes up not so long after with screaming. his heart races as he runs down the stairs, following the sound of your voice. his mind starts thinking the worst, but he finds you only having nightmares. he crawls in bed with you, without being kicked off. he lets you lay on his chest, one arm over your shoulder. his body warms yours up and you finally stop spasming. it doesn't take too long for both to fall asleep.

— ANGER

the penthouse is quiet. the winter is almost at it's end, so the pre-spring rays lighten the living room bringing warmness to your solitude. you sit uncomfortably, unknown to this feeling of absence. you don't feel him in the tower.

bruce said there was a non deniable meeting with his press team, because eventually he would have to go back to promoting his election, which would take place in the fall. you acted unbothered. yet, he's barely been gone for an hour and you can already feel the anxiety crippling. you only left the apartment for doctors appointment, still too scared to walk on the streets. and he was always there, too, holding your hand. so this is different.

alfred is downstairs upgrading the batman suit with a new technology he created. he invited you, but the darkness of the cave was definitely unrequited. that's how you end up lounging, in silence, staring at window. finally, you decide to try to watch something. you shouldn't really do that, because something could trigger a panic attack. but you're fine, you really are. enough with this nonsense.

shuffling through the channels, nothing gets your attention until there's a juridical show on. the judge is talking to the prosecutor, apparently, announcing the next witness to testify. the camera angle changes to the courtroom and expectant eyes turn to the wooden door. it opens slowly to reveal a knight in dark armour. you hold your breath. the jury buzzes and the room gets loud. heavy steps make his cape swing behind him, as he makes his way to the stand.

bruce had to make a tough decision. while you and him had been cleared from the trial, you with the psychiatrist report on PTSD and him with the marriage, the lawyers mentioned that the batman's testimony could be decisive for the accused to be found guilty by the jury. the public respected him. either they loved or feared him. so, even though he's never made such a public appearance, less even speaking, he had to go to that trial. he owed it to you. but you could never know. he didn't want to spark your interest in the case, you shouldn't have to go through it again. he lays his hand on the constitution and swears on it.

it doesn't feel real until you hear the judge.

"members of the jury, i present to you the batman."

it feels like a dagger has gone through your chest. there's a mix of feelings that have you almost throwing up. you feel like screaming and crying and blowing the fucking world up. how could he do that to you? that was your case, your life. you stand up only to find your legs trembling. you want to run there and testify. you want to tell the world the horrors you've been through and show them, including your husband, that you had overcome it. he was calling you weak right in you face and you couldn't bear the feeling of being chained up again. you're stuck in this hell of a tower like some futile damsel.

you stomp your way to the elevator, your mind set on leaving the building. but your heart stops you in your tracks pounding and almost vomiting itself out; you feel your toes numb and your legs can't stop shaking. the baritone voice still sounds in the apartment. you run to it and scream at the TV. you throw a pillow on it. that doesn't cool you down. your body is in motion while all you can see is red. you knock the coffee table down, shattering the glass and scattering like ashes the books that were on it on the floor. the noise still doesn't muffle his voice and you can't find the fucking remote control. you stumble across the room, throwing lamps and vases around. everything is falling down, in every sense. you grab a candle and let out a scream when you hit the TV with it, the screen going black and the noise finally ceasing.

alfred finds the room trashed, with you kneeling on the broken glass. there's blood on the floor. your body trembles with every sob. he cautiously steps towards you. you feel out of breath, tears burning your eyes. he holds you like a mother does.

"i'm sorry- i'm so sorry," he shakes his head, saying it doesn't matter. you wanna say it does, but there's simply nothing leaving your mouth apart from "i'm so sorry"

part three - aporia

[drysaladandketchup]

for the "things you said" writing meme -- matthew/leon, 12 :)

Thank you for the request <3 I realised very quickly I have no idea what constitutes a 'mini' fic. I struggle to write 'mini' anything lol. Hopefully this still satisfies :)

12. things you said when you thought i was asleep

It takes all of Matthew's willpower not to reach over and smash his phone just to shut off the alarm. All that saves his wallet and an awkward trip to the Apple store is the split-second realisation that the shrieking in his ear isn't his usual alarm.

It's a ringtone. Not his own, either.

He pries his eyes open to find the world through the window is still dark. One of the balcony doors is still ajar, letting in a cool night breeze. He's lying on his side in his own bed, the end of the all-star weekend memorialized by several aches and bruises.

His hips and ass are a little sore too, but that's unrelated. Technically.

The ringing stops. Someone huffs behind him.

Someone. Yeah, no, Matthew knows who it is. They may have met up at the bar once the media was done swarming, but Matthew was far from drunk. Painfully sober, in fact. If he's being honest with himself, he was hoping things would turn out this way.

One more time. One more moment. Because it's been a long time since they were them. Longer still since the sex was just sex, since hate became want. Matthew is strong in a lot of ways, but not against this.

"Davo." Leon's voice is low, and still gruff from sleep when he answers his phone. He sits up on his side of the bed, trying not to disturb Matthew, pulling the covers back up over Matthew's shoulder like he thinks he'll freeze to death in this balmy Florida winter.

Usually Matthew's a heavy sleeper. But never when Leon's around. He makes it impossible for Matthew to completely relax, to let time slip by. Leon's just too big of a presence, almost too much to bear. It was more important that everything linger, to bask in the strange comfort of their relationship, whatever it was. They had so little time. Even less, now.

"I know it's late. No, no, I'm not at the hotel. I'm... I'm with Tkachuk."

Leon says his last name like it's wrong, like it's rotting on his tongue.

When he corrects himself, says, "Matthew", it's better, lighter. Like it's ambrosia.

Matthew remembers when Leon Draisaitl saying his name wouldn't have meant a damn thing to him. When that simple act didn't fill him with fondness.

In the silence, Matthew can hear McDavid talking on the other end, but can't quite make out what he's saying. Matthew tucks up under the duvet, breathing quiet and even, trying to focus instead on the distant sound of waves and the ticking clock on his wall.

Ticking. Always ticking. Time bleeds out when they're together.

He doesn't even remember falling asleep last night, but he wishes he hadn't now. He wishes he'd stayed awake longer, just to... just to see him. To look Leon in the eye, to talk about everything and nothing until dawn, to feel big, too-warm hands on his body more and more and more. He wants to make sure he'll remember how Leon feels, sounds, tastes.

"Connor," Leon says, a warning, followed by a sigh. "I know. I know, okay? It was stupid, but..."

Maybe it was. Matthew has a good thing here in Florida. Better than ever. He was happy to leave Alberta behind and start over. So why did leaving make him feel like a coward?

Because leaving was about Calgary, and the Flames. About his career and his future. It wasn't about Leon. Leon was the wrench in the gears; the one thing he didn't expect to have to say goodbye to, the kind of hurt he never could have accounted for.

"I needed to see him." Leon sounds helpless. He's not the only one.

The only time he's heard Leon so lost was after his team was knocked out of the playoffs last season. The Oilers meant nothing--Matthew was pretty fucking glad considering they'd beat out the Flames--but he never wanted to hear Leon like that again.

He definitely never wanted to be the cause of it. Not like this.

Leon is still mumbling into his phone. "Yeah, I'm fine. He's... we're good. He's happy."

A hand settles on Matthew's head. Fingers play with his curls, nails scratch his scalp. A thumb presses just behind Matthew's ear, stroking the soft skin where only hours before Leon had put his lips, whispering sweetness and filth in equal measure.

It takes everything for Matthew not to groan, to whimper and surrender, roll over and climb on top of Leon and take all over again. Beg him to take something--everything--from Matthew.

"I don't know," Leon says then.

It's easy to guess what McDavid asked.

He's happy. But are you?

"I can't even tell him I still love him."

Still. Matthew didn't even know there was a before, let alone a still. Leon never said anything. Fuck, if Matthew wasn't busy trying to remember how to breathe, he'd roll over and punch him.

Then again, what did Matthew ever say? They never talked about it. Never let those closet hook-ups and slipping out back doors and little drinks and dinners and overnights excused as practical necessity be anything more than that. A bunch of chirps and half-truths and aborted discussions because it was all becoming too much. There was too much uncertainty. Too many ways it could go wrong.

It did go wrong. It became something. It became real.

Maybe that would have changed something. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything at all. It doesn't matter now. Matthew left, and neither of them said a word about things like love, because it was easier to hope it would shrivel and die with distance and time.

"I know I'm being stupid." Leon pauses when McDavid interrupts, then huffs. "No, I am. Fuck, I really thought I'd get over it. Maybe I will. Eventually."

Don't you fucking dare, you piece of shit, Matthew wants to scream.

"Not sure I can, though." Leon swallows so loud Matthew can hear it. Then quieter, like he's not sure he's even allowed to admit it, he says, "I don't really want to."

He's still playing with Matthew's hair, occasionally dragging a finger over his bare shoulder or down his back, tracing imaginary lines across Matthew's flesh. Like he's something to be memorized and cherished.

They're both so fucking stupid. Matthew bites his lip and tries not to choke on the lump in his throat. Could be his heart, climbing right up and out of his mouth. He clings to the sheets with shaking hands.

"I'm not going to fuck up what he's got here," Leon says tiredly, voice thick with tension and pathetic resignation.

Leon's not here to drag him back. He wouldn't do that. So why is he here? Just to torture them both? Being with him doesn't feel like torture. It feels like winning. It feels like defiance and decadence and too much and not enough. It feels like what could have been and what could still be.

He didn't find Leon at that bar and bring him home out of pity, or nostalgia, one last fuck for old times sake. It was... it just was. Not an ending. Not some final goodbye. Proof maybe there could still be something. Getting over it was never an option, Matthew knew that well before he stepped onto the ice as a Panther and found himself staring Leon down all over again.

Matthew's vision is blurring. His eyes sting, warm and wet. There's blood pounding in his ears, and a hand clutching his heart, a vice around his lungs. He hardly remembers how to breathe.

He doesn't catch the rest of Leon's conversation, except something about meeting Connor back at the hotel tomorrow. Meaning he's staying the night, at least. He's staying.

When Leon hangs up the phone, Matthew finally comes up for air. He relaxes his shoulders, listening to the soft thump as Leon taps his phone against his forehead over and over. Then it clatters on the side table. Leon sighs, sniffs, and sinks back under the covers. He tucks right up against Matthew's back, still burning like a furnace, soft muscle and skin brushing Matthew's spine in all the right ways.

He throws an arm around Matthew and finds one of his hands, worming his fingers through the gaps to hold it. His palm is sweaty, not that it matters at all to Matthew. He can't help squeezing Leon's hand a little, but if Leon notices, he doesn't say a word.

Not until he's wrapped tight around Matthew, near suffocating, like any part of them that isn't touching is a sin.

"Love you," Leon mumbles, barely more than a whisper, pressing his lips right to the base of Matthew's neck. Matthew's body can't seem to decide whether to shiver or melt under the heat.

Leon says it like it's inevitable. Painful. Pitiful.

What he's saying is, I'm sorry I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I'm sorry I don't know how to say it now. I'm sorry it's too late, it's the wrong place, the wrong time.

Like he doesn't think Matthew could ever understand. And that's the worst part of it all. They're still not on the same page. Tearing down what they never built.

If Leon's only brave enough to say it when Matthew's asleep, then Matthew will just have to be brave enough to say it in the light of day. He doesn't run, and he won't now that he knows he doesn't have to.

He stares into the night outside his window, listening to Leon breathe, feeling his heart beat through Matthew's chest like that's where it longs to be.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow maybe they can stop chasing time long enough to make the most of what they have. To make up for what they've wasted. And whatever happens after, well, maybe they can stop being afraid of that, too.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Did You Like Them? || D. Targaryen x oc (Dear Motherhood Series)

GIF by unknown DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: A heartfelt conversation between Leyla and her closest handmaiden reveals her feelings towards her first child, Alyssa.

a/n: pls pls pls send in some requests!!! this can be for the dear motherhood series if you like!

Dear Motherhood Series Masterlist

Leyla quietly moved her feet towards the nursery. The whole of castle were fast asleep and yet she was still awake, except for the few guards around, including the two infront of the nursery. She quietly opened the door and closed it slowly. Daemon was still asleep in their bedchambers.

The young Lady walked closer to the crib at a slow pace where her daughter, Alyssa laid asleep. She crouched down beside her, her eyes studying every feature of her face. Alyssa looked very much Leyla, except for the silver hair that she inherited from Daemon.

With so much intent, Leyla stayed there for the next 10 minutes, Alyssa’s chest falling up and down at a steady rate. The door quietly opened as Alyssane, her closets friend and handmaiden, approaches her. “My Lady, what are you doing up at this hour?” she asked before crouching down beside the babe’s crib.

“I like watching her sleep,” Leyla spoke in a soft voice, admiring her daughter. A smile makes it to Alyssane’s lips, “When my children were babies, it was my favourite time too,” She says as the two make eye contact and chuckle softly.

Visiting Alyssa in the middle of the night was a daily occurrence for Leyla. Of course, Leyla often saw her daughter throughout the day but it felt different watching her at night, all alone. Whenever they were around the castle or outside, the young Hightower would often feel quite awkward holding her own child.

The looks she would be given or the whispers that would go around drove her insane. So she rather enjoy her daughter’s presence alone, without the prying eyes of court. Leyla’s eyes flicker to Alyssane, she hesitates before opening her mouth to ask her question.

“Did you like them?” She felt herself holding a breath, “Straight away?” Alyssane’s eyes snap to Leyla. She noticed her hesitation before she covered it with a small smile. “Well, I was pleased they were healthy. I would’ve killed anyone that could cause them any harm.”

“Like them? I think that comes later, my Lady” Leyla listens intently. “When I look at her,” She starts, her fingers moving away a stray lock of hair fallen on Alyssa’s face, “All I can remember is the pain of giving birth to her. Those horrible nine months I had to endure.” Leyla confessed.

Alyssane held her hand in a comforting manner. “Having a baby is a sacrifice aswell as a blessing,” Alyssane added with a sad smile. Leyla knew that when she found out she was with child, her childhood was being sacrificed. It took her some time to accept the cold truth.

“I’m afraid, Alyssane. Father is asking for more grandchildren and there’s no doubt Daemon wishes for more heirs from me,” Otto had been on Leyla’s back on having children well, ever since she married Daemon. Even more after she had her first, Alyssa.

“Don’t be, my Lady. You are incredibly strong, having a child at ten-and-five? Not many people can do that and still continue with a smile on their faces. These feelings you’re feeling right now? They will blow over and overtime, when you look at Alyssa, you will feel a sense of accomplishment”

Leyla looked back over at peaceful Alyssa, “Thank you Alysanne,” she smiled gratefully at her friend’s comforting words.

~

It was the Hour of the Owl and once again, Leyla slipped out of Daemon’s hold and quietly moved away from the bed and into the corridors. The brunette was only helped guided by the burning torches that lit up the castle, although it was nearly impulse that led her to her daughter’s nursery.

That day had been particularly hard for Leyla. Otto had found out that she had been talking about finding ways to slow down the chances of becoming pregnant. That earned Leyla a harsh slap across her face.

The young Hightower didn’t dare to tell her Lord Husband out of embarrassment. Leyla was slightly surprised to see her daughter eyes wide awake. She quickly moved to her and carefully picked her up as Alyssa cooed making her mother smile.

She opened the curtains to allow light from the moon to seep through the nursery. There, Leyla stood cradling her daughter in her arms as she sung a sweet lullaby. She cherished these moments she shared with her first born, away from the bustling of court.

Leyla was slightly startled when she felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around her waist. “Husband,” “Wife,” He replied back in a husky voice, his head rested on her shoulder as they both look down at their daughter. “I thought I might find you here, pray do tell, what are you doing here at this hour of the night?” He spoke calmly, leaving a small trail of kisses along her shoulder and neck.

“I could not find sleep Daemon, and neither could your daughter it seemed” She softly chuckled as he joined. “Can I?” Daemon tilted his head to Alyssa as Leyla nodded. She carefully passed the 2 month old babe to her father as he softly patted her back, a soft tune coming out of his mouth in his mother’s tongue.

Leyla thought it would be impossible to fall in love with Daemon even more, well that changed ever since he became a father. He was such a huge softie when it came to Alyssa and she liked that he only reserved this side for her.

In just a few minutes, Alyssa had fallen asleep. Daemon slowly laid her down in her crib as the two stand in each other’s arm admiring the tiny human being they created. “Goodnight, my darling” Leyla leaned down to whisper to her before placing a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Daemon smiled as he watched the whole interaction. He always knew Leyla would be a great mother to his children. The couple quietly walked back to their bedchambers hand in hand with smiles on their faces.

~

taglist

@bellstwd @sesamepancakes @writtingforfun @bunbunbl0gs @mxtokko

[treasuringizu]

Thinking about how Izuku would subconsciously abandon you for hero work, constantly being late to dates or even canceling. You would understand, of course, being a pro hero yourself. But you would wish that he would make time for you just like you make time for him

I just… need an angst to fluff fanfic about this 😭

- empty heart

izuku midoriya x reader | angst, hurt/comfort.

a/n: it’s not specified that reader is a pro hero so they’re whatever you want them to be🤷🏽‍♀️ kind of ends in fluff…..

wc: 1.3k

you’ve lost count of the amount of times it has happened. lost count of the amount of times you were left sitting alone in that restaurant, waiting and waiting patiently only for him to never show up. lost count of the amount of times you needed him — needed him to be there for you — to show up, but he never did.

it happened so slowly, that you didn’t even notice it until it smacked you right in the face. or you were in denial, pretending that what was happening right in front of your face wasn’t really there. that maybe if you ignored it, it would eventually go away.

it didn’t.

it started with missed calls, unanswered texts that you didn’t think much of. he was late to a few dates, you shrugged it off and gave him a kiss. he didn’t show up for that one dinner with your parents, apologizing and saying that he totally forgot, but he’ll be there next time — you said it’s okay. and that was it.

you can’t help but think that maybe it was because you always let him off so easily that it ended up like this. maybe the both of you are as much to blame for the demise of your relationship. maybe you should have pushed harder. maybe he should have prioritized better. maybe, maybe, maybe. maybe you could have done all of that and it still would have ended up this way.

maybe it wouldn’t have ended up like this, with you packing up your things in a tiny luggage that will have to do for now. with tears streaming down your face and your heart feeling like it got stomped on and torn into pieces.

you and izuku were so close. but he feels like a stranger now. too many nights of him getting home after not speaking or seeing him the entire day. you ignored it, pretended like you were sleeping as he slipped into the bed beside you, your back turned to him. he doesn’t wrap his arms around you anymore, doesn’t hold you. though you know he always knew that you were awake. maybe he liked to ignore it too. you both always hated confrontation.

there were no more i love you’s, no more i miss you’s. no more love. it was there, but it was empty. you guys don’t talk anymore, don’t laugh anymore. no more nights where you stay up discussing the most random things when you both could be sleeping, no more sad movies and holding izuku in your arms while he cries like a baby because a character died, no more him. no more us, you think.

you were getting drained — getting tired.

and again, you hated confrontation, so that’s why you’re packing your things up now, when you know he won’t be home to see you leaving him. so he can’t see you acting like a coward.

you pack your essentials, throw in some clothes that can last you at least a few days, and pack away your heart with it.

and then you’re heading for the door, furiously wiping at your face to the point it hurts — but the handle is turning and it opens before you can get to it. and in comes the love of your life — the stranger you’re now living with.

your heart squeezes at the sight of him, and you take in what you can. his mess of curly green hair — dark and kind eyes to match, the freckles that are scattered everywhere on his face, the freckles you love to count but never get to the end of, as if they’re endless. you trace the curve of his cheeks with your eyes, imagining his lovable smile that melts your heart, his dimples popping out. his lips, that you loved to steal kisses from, as much as you could get.

izuku breathes out your name as he steps inside, closing the door and doubling back at the sight that greets him. his eyes widen, going to your face — the tears that you’re sure are streaming down, and then trailing below to the bag you’re clutching in your hand.

he stumbles forward, mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know what to say — what to do. and you stand there, hardening your face to not give away any emotions, though you’re sure your tears gives it all. you’ve always done that, worn your heart on your sleeve but tried to hide it as much as you could.

vulnerability — never an option.

“what…” his throat bobs. “what are you doing?”

you almost want to laugh, if not for the hurt he’s showing. “what does it look like?”

“i- what?” a plethora of emotions flash across his face. he’s shaking his head, dropping his duffel bag on the ground — he’s freshly showered, hair slightly damp on his forehead. he must have showered at his agency.

you rub your thumb back and forth against the rough handle of your bag. “i thought you’re supposed to be on patrol?”

he eyes your hand where it holds onto the luggage. “got off early. kachaan… he’s covering for me.”

“oh…” silence. you stare at each other for what seems like forever, your feet rooted in place.

it’s when you move your hand to wipe at your face that izuku breaks the silence, saying your name. he takes a step forward, faltering when you back away in response. he frowns, “why do you have your bag packed?”

you don’t answer his question. “what are we doing, izuku?”

“what- i… what do you mean?”

you want to scream. you want to break down and cry while he holds you in his scarred arms. “what are we doing!” your voice cracks, but you don’t even feel embarrassed as you feel another wave of fresh tears.

he knows what you mean. his own eyes are glassy, you note. “i don’t know. i don’t know.” his fists clench at his sides.

this time you do laugh. “exactly. you don’t know.” your heart breaks even more. “i think.” you pause, taking in his expression. “i think i have to go.”

“no you don’t.” his hand reaches for you — to hold you, but he must rethink his decision because he stops midair, letting his hand swing back as he gulps. “you don’t…” his voice is a whisper, quiet.

you nod your head, firm. “i do.”

but then he moves forward again, unstopping until he’s right in front of you, and then suddenly you’re engulfed by him, your senses overtaken. he hugs you, hard. squeezes you and that’s when you feel his sharp intake of air, and then his body is shaking as he holds you.

and it’s funny, you think, that this is what it took for him to hug you like this again. hold you like he doesn’t ever want to let go.

“please.” you can feel his heart breaking along with yours as he breathes into the top of your head, as he holds you tighter.

you start sobbing again, gasping for air as you fist his shirt in your hands, burrowing into him.

“we can fix this.” izuku repeats it over and over again, as if he’s trying to convince himself as well. pulling away, he looks you in the eyes — letting you see the emotions swarming around in his. “we can.”

you look at him — really look at him like you haven’t in months. you look at the tears that are now falling down his face too, using the back of your hand to wipe them off and somehow mustering a tiny smile when he closes his eyes and shudders at your touch.

you think about all the times he’s left you hanging, all the times you needed him and he just wasn’t there. but then you think about the times he was there, standing right by you and holding you up when you couldn’t stand anymore.

you think, that if it’s for him, you can try harder. let him have your heart again.

“we can.”

[xmalereader]

Five Hargreeves x Chef! Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

SUMMARY: After the events of TUA S3, Fives is left without his powers and can finally try to have a normal life without relying on his abilities. Trapped in a his teenage body at the age of fifty he can finally retire at a nice little town, getting himself a job as a waiter in the towns famous ‘Daybreak Diner’ where he befriends the owner and chef of the place. Not only that, but Fives has competition with the bakery across the street.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Pure fluff, mature language, crossovers between characters, and bakery verse, reader is a chef and an adult, fives is around 15-16 years old, platonic parent, found family, fives and Alex are enemies to lovers, mentions of Simon Riley and his baker husband, cooking, fives hates customers, love sick teenagers.

WC: 1.5K

NOTES: Hello everyone! It’s a new year, meaning new format and new characters and ideas! I’ve actually been thinking about this idea for awhile now and decided to create my own little baker or cooking verse between one of my favorite series of Simon Riley and perhaps a new one starting with Five Hargreeves! Please, feel free to leave some feedback and if you wish to read some more of this cooking verse then I’ll be more than happy to make more!

Daybreaks Diner was a simple restaurant that served grilled and raw sea food dishes. It was one of the popular places in town that many people went to eat after leaving work either to relax with some alcohol in their system or perhaps a nice shrimp cocktail that many people enjoyed. The place had only been standing for a few years, owned by one single person who did all of the cooking and cleaning before and after closing for the day, everyone in town knew who the chef was and how passionate he is when it comes towards his menu and various food choices.

Some would say that he was in competition with the bakery across the street due to both owners always getting caught conversing with each other, only for the rumor to be shut down after it became clear the the two were simply friends and helped each other out when it comes towards new ideas for their own places.

It wasn’t until their time together slowly decreased going from days to only a few hours. Only to find out that his good friend had recently found someone that helped him in the bakery which later resulted in them getting married and getting the family he always wanted and keeping himself busy in the bakery. The two still talked, but they were both moving on with their lives and busy with their own dreams.

It wasn’t until a year later that he hired a sixteen year old teenager to work in his diner. He was hesitant about the kid at first only to find out that he no place nor a job and was easily persuaded into hiring the kid and evening letting the kid rent out his extra room upstairs. It took some adjusting for him, waking up in the mornings to find the teenager with messy bed hair and drinking black coffee on the small table that he had in his dining room, silent as always only to get a bit chatty when the two head downstairs to prep for the day.

The other strange thing that he hasn’t gotten used to yet was the kids name, Fives.

Did this kids parents hate him so much that they gave him a number for a name?

Fives never spoke about his past nor about his family and kept to himself. That wasn’t until he caught the kid having a nightmare late one night, jolting him awake when hearing the kids scream which caused him to spend the night sleeping on the floor after the kid asked him to stay with him even though his words sounded forced as if he didn’t want him there at all. Y/n didn’t know shit about kids nor did he consider himself a parent since he’s been alone for majority of his adult life to the point where his main focus became his restaurant and now this kid too.

After having Fives live with him for almost six months now, the teenager had grown on him and enjoyed his presence even though the kid himself can be a little sarcastic bastard whenever they were alone.

It was the weekend and the restaurant usually opens late, giving Y/n the time to get everything prepped without any problems as he stood on the other side of the counter, cutting up various vegetables while glancing over to Five who had his face pressed against the glass window, staring across the street with a frown on his face.

“If you keep staring they’ll notice.” He speaks up but Fives doesn’t budge from his spot, glaring down at Alex from across the street at the other teenager worked on writing out todays specials for his fathers bakery. “He thinks some piece of bread with white crap on top is better than my specials?” Fives hissed out, earning an eye roll from Y/n.

When Y/n first introduced Fives to his friend he expected his friends son, Alex to get along only to get the total opposite. Fives loathed the guy and Alex felt the same way towards him. Their hatred started over who’s food was better either the bakery or the diner and neither saw eye to eye and the boys always turned everything into a competition.

“There chocolate filled croissants are good—“

Fives whips his head to glare at Y/n when hearing his comment. He can’t help but laugh at his expression and shake his head, he used to find the kid so intimidating at times and now his looks never phase him anymore. “You two are always fighting.” He mumbled to himself and focused on the fish next and moves around the counter and placed the different ingredients out in order to get lunch ready.

“Come on Fives, clean the tables and set down the chairs the lunch rush is gonna hit soon.” He orders the kid around who does as he’s told, walking around the counter to put on his own apron and tying it around his waist and grabbing a table cloth. It became a regular routine for the two, Y/n prepping the food while Fives cleans the place and gets the tables set for any customer that are to come even though Fives was the only waiter he did the work fast and wasn’t afraid of taking back to customers who talked badly about the food or complained about the smallest things, remembering him threatening a family who couldn’t control their kids running around the place and ruining other people’s nights.

Fives didn’t hesitate to approach the table, slamming the bill on their counter while giving them a wide grin. “If you don’t control your kids I am more than happy to do it for you and believe me it ain’t gonna be a pretty sight.” The parents thought he was joking around and laughed at Fives words only for Y/n to wince at the couples response, knowing damn well that he wasn’t joking.

Fives sighed through his nose before slamming his hand on the table, startling not just the couple but the other customers around them while speaking out loud to them. “Listen here ass, I have spent the last five minutes dealing with your kids running around this place while serving food to everyone else and I am caring around hot and cold plates and if one of your kids bumps into me and gets that food on them, do not complain about your little mistake getting burned.”

Safe to say the parents listened to him and were able to control their kids.

Y/n relied on Fives with situations like that which rarely happened after that day, no one wanted to deal with the teens wrath.

As the two got ready, Fives was the one to turn on the ‘open’ sign on and step outside to wipe down the windows, using a rag to wipe them clean only to stop when he noticed Alex approaching him, making him glare as he focused on his task.

“I’d ask what you’re up to Fives, but then it occurred to me. I don’t care.” Said Alex while entering the resturant, leaving Fives outside who glared at Alex when entering the place, getting Y/n’s attention from over the counter and smiling at the other teen. “Alex! The usual today?” He questions as he began to get the food ready as Alex sits at the bar.

“The usual for dad and for Simon he actually wanted to try one of your specials.” Alex points towards the menu behind Y/n and let him know that Simon wishes to try the third special on the menu.

Y/n works on getting the food ready. “Why do you call him Simon? Why not dad too?” He knows that his friend and his husband have been married for awhile which lead up to Simon finally adopting Alex as his own kid too. “I guess I’m used to it yet?” Alex shrugs his shoulders while leaning his elbows on the counter top and reaching over to steal one of the juice boxes only to get his hand smacked with a towel making him yelp in surprise.

“Hey, thats for customers only.” Fives cuts in, tossing his dirty towel into the sink while Alex grumbled. “I’m a valuable customer here.”

“To me you ain’t, so if you want the juice box you gotta pay.” The two boys glare at each other and Y/n is quick to cut the tension between the two. “Alright that’s enough you two.” He sets a bag of food in front of Alex, “Here you go, also tell your dad to send me some those specials too.”

“I will,” Alex responds while taking the bag with him, shooting Fives a smirk when Y/n slips the juice box in the bag which makes Fives groan as the two watch him leave the restaurant. It was normal for both owners to try each others specials without charge due to them being close friends after so many years together.

Y/n watched Alex, making sure that he got back to the bakery without any accidents, sighing in relief once the teen makes it inside only to turn around to face Fives who had his arms crossed over his chest while frowning. “Do you want me to kill him?”

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (31)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: smut (MDNI)

A/N NOT BETA. YOU GUYS! I have a permanent taglist in my main masterlist if you wish to be added to my imagines. Taglist for my fics are currently not available though. It is currently closed for this story and my OUTLAW one. However if you wish to read my imagines (I have a couple coming out soon) Please be sure you check it out!

The area your grandparents lived in was surrounded by mountains. The town was small and consisted mostly of farmers who traveled by foot rather than car. Everything was close by so there was no need for such bug vehicles that only took up space. Reaching your childhood summer home, it made you smile as you passed by the same trees and winding roads. 

It was night time though, and a good majority of the boys seemed to have huddled together as you took winding roads that were close to cliffs. They would cry about going slower on the turns. You shook your head, Namjoon in the passenger seat telling you that they were just scaredy cats. 

So when the roads evened out and you were finally at your grandfather’s traditional home, they all piled out taking in the smells and sights. Well what they could see for the moment. As you grabbed your backpack, you noticed the lights still on in the house making you frown. 

“Grandpa!” You called after knocking on the door. “What are you doing awake?”

You noticed the man wrapped in a blanket watching tv. He sat cross legged on the couch, cuddled into the cushions. You smiled at how adorable he looked, moving to take a seat next to him. When he turned to greet the boys, his face suddenly changed into one of shock as one by one the boys walked into the house. 

“I was waiting for you.” He told you. “You told me you were coming with friends but I didn't think they were boys. And seven of them.” He spoke up, looking back at the boys. 

“Yeah.” You said, standing up to stand next to them. “I'm sorry about it.” 

“I don't know if there's beds for all of them.” He said.

You smiled as he didn’t seem to question why you had seven boys visiting him. You didn’t know how to break it to him yet that they were magical creatures. Now that you would have to leave the home for a while. 

“Don't worry.” Namjoon told your grandpa. “We'll figure something out, sir.” He gave a dimple smile that made your grandpa nod his head. 

“Well alright.” The old man nodded his head, coming to a stand from the couch. 

“Let's go to bed, Grandpa.” You told him, leading the man to his bedroom. “We'll talk in the morning.”

After making sure your grandfather was in bed, you softly shut his door and walked back out to the other boys. 

“Everything alright?” Jin asked you.

“Yes.” You nodded. “He might forget things but he means well.” You told them. 

“It's no trouble for him?” Yoongi spoke up. 

“Yeah.” You grinned. “He was excited to have me home.”

“This is where you grew up?” Jimin asked, looking around at the pictures your grandma had put up in the house. 

“I'm from here.” You told them, leading them back out to take them to the second bedroom. “But I moved to Seoul for university. My grandparents were so excited to hear I was going.” You slide open the door, moving to the side. 

“Four of you can sleep here.” You spoke up, looking around the small room. “The other three can sleep in the living room.” You turned back to them. 

“I'll make the bedrolls.” Taehyung spoke up, looking for things to transfigure. 

When you got them all settled, you went to check on the room that you often used. When you opened the door, Hobi had taken a peak in. While the others seemed to be talking to themselves, the man followed you around as he took in everything about the traditional home. 

“Do you mind?” He asked when he stepped into your room. 

“Not at all, Hobi.” You smiled, gathering some things to take to the boys for them to sleep comfortably. 

When you returned back, Hobi was smiling over the trophies and ribbons you had from when you were in school. 

“You were in dance?” He asked you when you returned. 

“Yeah.” You smiled, looking at your pictures that showed you on stage or in an extravagant pose. “When I was a kid I had the dream of being an idol.” 

“And?” Hobi suddenly looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to continue.

You laughed a little, remembering how long it was you wanted to be on stage and perform for people. But that changed when you got older. 

“I like helping people more.” You told him. “My grandfather was the doctor in the village for a long while. I used to go to his clinic to watch him. It's where I found the love for medicine.”

“They would love you back home.” Hobi told you.

You noticed how well they seemed to be holding in their tears about finally being able to leave the facility. Had it been you in their place, you would have already started to bawling back in your apartment. And they had from what you vaguely remember hearing on the trip here. Some of them had slept and the others watched the passing scenery. 

Namjoon was the only one who held a conversation with you, but he still kept his eyes on the road, lips trembling each time you would turn to look at him. 

“How does it feel?” You asked. “To be going home soon?”

“I'm kinda scared.” He sniffled, looking down with a sad expression. “I missed so much.” Tears began to well in his eyes. “Did my family move on? Is my older sister doing okay? Does she have her own family? I'm sure all the boys feel that way.”

You frowned, reaching out to grab Hobi’s cheeks delicately between your hands. Giving him a smile when his eyes met yours, you leaned forward to place your forehead with his. 

“Hey, I'm sure they're still waiting for you.” You told him. “A family never forgets one of their own.”

Hobi closed his eyes as he felt your heat radiant onto him. He could feel your energy calming him down. It wasn’t the same as Namjoon’s empathic abilities or Jin’s way of sensing someone’s aura, but it was his way of feeling someone’s true nature. Everyone had an energy about them that created the kind of person they were. And your’s was something that brought Hoseok comfort. 

You looked up at him as he pulled away, a soft smile on your lips. “You mean a lot to us.” He told you, holding you by the waist. “The world we are from–we want to share it with you.”

“I’ll follow you.” With that Hobi softly placed his lips against yours. 

Hoseok was passionate about everything he did. He put so much work into reaching the place he wanted to be–and even then sometimes it might not be enough for him. He wanted to make sure that others were able to appreciate what he did. He wanted people to know that he tried hard for each one of them. 

It showed in the way he would take care of his brothers–in the way he would care for you if you ever had questions. It also showed in the way he kissed. You wanted to be there for him, let him know that all his efforts were being acknowledged. Just like Taehyung, Hobi also needed to be told how great he was when it came to magic. While he so obviously was someone who took charge, much like Namjoon, you wanted to have the chance to take care of one of them. If they allowed you to, that was.

When you pressed yourself closer to Hoseok, the man immediately placed his hands on your waist, keeping you from moving closer to him. You pulled away from him, keeping your forehead pressed to his. 

“I know you want to take care of us, Hun.” He breathlessly spoke. “But trust me–us taking care of you means a lot more than you taking care of us.”

His lips brushed against yours one more time. “All you have to do is be ours.”

“I already am.” 

His lips moved with more vigor this time, sucking in a large breath through his nose as he allowed his inhibitions to leave his body. His hands moved down to the back of your thighs, quickly gathering them between his hands and pushing you to jump. Your ankles locked behind him, his hands holding you up but gripping onto your backside. 

His fingers touched the folds between your legs causing you to flinch from the tickle. It was a light touch that had you grinding your hips down. Hobi pulled back from the kiss giggling to himself at how you seemed to wither from his touch. 

He moved you over to the bed, softly placing you down as he pulled back to look at you fully. Every touch he seemed to give you made you giggle, your body buzzing from nerves. Anything that seemed to touch your skin caused you to wiggle away from it. 

“I’m not even doing anything.” Hobi laughed. 

“I’m sensitive.” You breathed out.

“Were you like this for the others?” He teased leaning down to brush his lips against yours. 

“Not this much.” You told him honestly. 

“You’re buzzing. I can feel your energy–it’s intoxicating.” He explained. 

His fingers moved down to your pants, pulling at them slightly. When you raised your hips up, he used it as permission to take it all off. When he finished taking off your pants he pulled his shirt over his head, feeling overstimulated with the fabric touching his skin. 

You watched as he rolled his shoulder around, his fingertips gripping onto the skin of your thighs to help ground him back from the sensitivity. You laughed lightly, seeing as he was going through the same thing. 

The slight sting that came to your thigh had you gasping, looking at Hoseok with wide eyes. He glared playfully, giving you a scolding. “Don’t laugh.” He told you. 

You pressed your lips together to keep from smiling, nodding your head. You pulled your own shirt off wanting to feel Hoseok’s skin against yours. After you did, you tugged on his arm, wanting him to place his body over yours. 

However he quickly gathered both of your hands and shoved them above your head, keeping them from moving. He did lay down against you, his chest pressing against yours causing you to sigh and arch further into him. 

“We’ll get to it, Hun.” He whispered. “Be patient.”

“Hobi.” You whine, lips forming a pout.

He laughed slightly. “You’ve had the others. It’s my turn.” He kissed you one last time before standing back up. 

You sat up a little to watch him take off his pants and boxers. Once he was fully naked, you felt your heart rate spike and had to curl your fist into a ball to keep from reaching out for him. Once he got comfortable, he places his knees on the edge of the bed, making you spread your knees. 

You squeaked, suddenly feeling shy over the whole thing, trying your hardest to close your legs again. However Hoseok kept his hands on them, keeping your legs open for him to fit between them. 

“What happened?” He teased. “Why are you trying to fight me?” He kissed his teeth, thrusting his hips forward to nudge his length against your core. 

The noise he got from you made him smile evilly, moving his hips back and forth as his length became wet with your slick. He sucked in a breath, using his thumb to keep his length nestled between your lips. 

“Wait like a good little mate.” Hoseok whispered, being mesmerized by the way your core clenched around nothing. 

Each time the tip would get caught on the hood of your slit, he would bite his lip nudging the spot harder as you seemed to react to it as well. He moved back a bit, grabbing your ankles to hold them up and close them. His head tipped back as your thighs added to the stimulation. 

You whined and bucked your hips, huffing each time his tip would catch on your entrance. You would try to move against him to make him enter but he was quicker than you and moved before you could do anything. 

“If you don’t stop, I will.” Hoseok warned, crawling back between your legs to hold your hips down. 

As he watched you wither against the bed, he smiled sweetly. “Does the baby want me to fuck her?” He pouted. 

Leaning over, he moved some of your hair away from your face, pecking your lips as he nudged his knees closer to your thighs to get comfortable. 

“Hobi.” You whined out.

“Since you helped us so much.” He whispered. “You deserve everything you want.”

He leaned up for a moment, grabbing onto his length to line it up with your entrance. You groaned out, trying to be quiet by focusing all your thoughts into gripping the sheets. When he pushed forward you let out a whimper that was music to Hoseok’s ears. The way your toes curled behind him. The way you seemed to clench your thigh muscles to allow the nerves of everything to go down your body. 

And when he started to move, he had to hold you down to keep from separating too far. As he watched his length disappear in and out of you, his breathing seemed to go ragged. He was so focused on the way his hips moved you began to grow mesmerized with the way Hobi was so focused on you.  

His look of bliss made a shiver go down your body, starting the build up of your orgasm. As your whimpers grew to be quick and whiny, Hoseok looked up, shifting his legs just a bit, causing him to hit the edge of your core. 

You grunted out, crying as you felt full from his ministrations. He leaned back over to your face, continuing to move inside you. 

“Pretty girl,” He cooed. “Are you close?” He asked. 

“Hobi.” You whined shutting your eyes closed. 

You were quick to grip onto his shoulders, fingers messaging into his skin. 

He groaned when he felt you clench. “Come on. Let go for me.”

With a cry of his name, the bubble that had formed burst and you were seeing stars. Hobi groaned out loud going faster in order to finish with you. And the way your core seemed to clench onto him from the overstimulation and pulsed around him, it was easy to find release. 

His groans were amazing, something you could hear all the time. Just like some of the other boys, Hobi was someone who enjoyed performing and showing off. And when he released onto your thighs, you let out a quiet moan from the warm feeling. 

Hoseok panted as he turned onto the side of the bed for a rest. He only needed a few moments to get back up and help to clean you. However as he watched you play with his cum on your thighs he seemed to gulp and take in a deep breath. 

You turned to look at him, eyes hooded as a lay smile was on your face. “You okay?” You asked quietly. 

“More than okay.” He grinned.

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