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senawashere · 15 days

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We're on this together. (Chapter 1)

Bradley Bradshaw × Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Nobody warned you for how hard it is to become a mother,same for Bradley.

TW: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.

Tears were streaming down your face,your hands were trembling. Searching for Bradley's number in your contact list has never been this difficult.

Your fingers slid across parts of the screen you didn't want to touch, making your frustration even worse.

The phone line rang at a deafening volume. Once, twice, three times until it goes to voicemail.

His stupid voicemail.

"Hi,its me Bradley. Please drop your message!"

Taking this as a sign, you chose not to try again.

After all, talking to Bradley about it right now would only make him worry for nothing, considering he was busy on deployment and miles away from you. He was about to return this week.

It wasn't something he could solve. Maybe it was but not right now.

Within a few minutes your phone rang. As his name popped up on the screen, a heart emoji next to it and his photo of him grinning stupidly, you felt terrible for doing this to him.

Not only did you let down your own dreams, you were about to let down his too.

You replied, remaining silent. You expected your voice to sound like a lump in your throat.

"Baby, are you there? I couldn't get to the phone in time at first."

You were motionless, your lack of words showed him that. "I'm fine", giving yourself some time, you suddenly started to feel everything you didn't feel until you got home.

"I was at the doctor's today."

"Why are you talking like it's the end of the world? Are you okay?"

Throughout his breathing, it was easy to imagine him even stopping whatever he was doing to pay better attention to you; Not because it wasn't there before. You should have called Penny or someone, they would know how to take care of you.

"Wait, is it about babies? Tell me you're joking," he finished with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You could imagine and hear it perfectly.

In the past, when you received good news, you would pretend that something bad was coming, now it's just another thing you regret doing.

You were selfish for talking to him, he was so far away; You could talk to him about it when he got home.

Talking and doing this and that now would cause him more anxiety than he ever had in his hectic daily tour life. Still, he was the only one you needed.

"No, quite the opposite."

The call suffered a long pause, filled with his deep sighs and persistent tears streaming down his cheeks.

You didn't let a single tear fall until you got home, but did you verbalize it? Putting it into words made things different; it felt more real.

"Fuck," he mumbled, clearly a little out of place.

“I can't have kids, Bradley,” your words were interrupted by the growl you were trying to hold back.

He could tell when you were talking to him that everything hit you at once. Over the years, he was able to recognize even small details.

''I'm the reason we tried and it never worked. I cursed it."

"No, baby," he took a deep breath. "Please don't blame yourself. You know it's not your fault." You ran your fingers desperately through your hair; This is what it must be like to feel useless on the phone. Just what you imagined before you made the call. It was bad to announce this to him. "Are you alone? I can ask someone to check on you. They’ll do that, okay?

“Please,” You didn't want to spend the rest of the day by yourself. Also, even though you didn't want to talk to anyone but Bradley, you knew Penny would understand you better, she knew how to make you feel less bad, it would be nice to be around her. And once she mentioned she went through something like that so maybe she would understand you.

Being alone with your harsh thoughts will not be a good option anyway. "I thought about calling her, but I finally gave up, I didn't know what to do, I still don't. Calling you still doesn't seem like a good idea, but I didn't know what to do."

Your weak voice was killing Bradley. If it made him sad to hear that, he couldn't imagine what it was like for you.

"You did great, baby, this is a tough situation but we're on this journey together. You can ask for anything baby, remember?" He smiled, a muffled smile came over the line; It made you feel a little better.

"We can still have children, you know that."

You wanted to tell him that what works for others may not work for you, that your condition may not be that malleable because your condition is genetic. Still, you didn't know if they were true or not, all your thoughts might just be the result of your momentary frustration, but they might also be true.

You need to talk to Bradley about this, everything that's going on in his mind. You didn't want to do this over the phone anymore.

“We can try,” you sniffled, still avoiding the tears you didn't even know were falling. "We can try." You repeated, trying to convince yourself.

"Talk to me, baby. Try to distract yourself a bit, huh? Please. Do you want me to turn the call off? Maybe you can take a long bath with your favorite bubbles or eat something different. That might help."

Even though it sounded wrong, his desperation to help you was adorable. Talking to him made everything perfect, his voice was soothing, you could hear him talking for hours. Now it was no different.

“I just want to hear your voice,” you said, lying on the cold floor of the main room. It would be nice to sleep. It seemed reasonable to forget the previous hours for a few minutes. "You are busy?"

"Not exactly."

"Then tell me how the mission went."

His voice sounded flatter and softer, you could imagine how uneasy he was even from the phone, it was possible to imagine him striding around the room with the phone in his hand. He talked about the mission details the night before. The contrast of how you described your previous day with what happened at the right moment was painful, happy and suddenly you were breaking it.

Everyone knew that Bradley dreamed of having kids, that kids were running around the house and so were you, you wanted to have kids with him even more but with you he would never have one.

"Can I say something?" You asked, taking a deep breath,cutting through his words. "I love you,I love you so much."

Everything was unfair, you both tried so hard. He, too, had become weak from trying, just like you.

"I love you too, baby. This," you could see him in your mind, pausing and gesturing with his hands, "this won't change anything,okay? I still love you so much as the day i fell in love with you."

"We are on this journey together."

"We are on this journey together.”

—-----

Your body trembled.

A cold hand was wandering around your waist as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling a ridiculous headache fill your vision. Your eyes found Bradley crouched on the ground in front of you, and he looked good compared to you. His eye bags were not purple from the 4 hour sleep he was getting,or his hair wasn't messy after the cold,rainy and windy weather out there.

"What are you doing here?" You frowned. Bradley chuckled as you laid your head down once the headache made you feel like you were going to throw up. He could answer your question but you were flattered, he wouldn't think you noticed he was there because he knew you needed him.

So he ignored it, helping you get up.

"Come on, get up. It's cold on the floor, I'll put you to bed." He tried to get you to stand up for him - he failed; but you shifted your weight onto his body, wrapping your arms around his neck, which he found worriedly cute.

“I need you,” you whispered, drunk and sleepy, burying your face in his coat. Let its scent warm you. He smelled amazing.

It was a relief to hear him say that. He didn't want to get into an argument about how it would affect his job in the near future, as you had fought before for the same reason. "I know my baby." He kissed your hair, hugged your waist, and carried you to your room. “She wants to lay down with me.”

He laid you down on the bed, doing the same as he lay on your side, face up and facing the white ceiling.

They both knew it was necessary to speak, but neither knew who should speak first or what they should speak about.

You ran your fingers over his stomach, placing your palm under his shirt, warming his cold hand with your body. You moved closer to his body, nestling into his side as he wrapped his arm around you.

"Tell me, what's on your mind?" He said without looking directly at you.

"There's a lot", your mere words made his throat dry. “It's weird knowing your body can't do what it's supposed to do, especially when you want it to,” you gasped through sobs, his grip pulling you closer to his chest for comfort. "I'm afraid you'll stay with me and a few years from now you'll realize you made the wrong choice." These words hurt him. It hurt him so much to see you blaming yourself.

He hugged you even tighter and asked you to look at him. "I'm not going to leave you, okay? I'm in love with you. That won't change, and it's not your fault. We can try IVF as if it will work, and it's worked for a few people, and we'll have a happy and healthy baby. We have the money for it. If the money I make as a pilot isn't enough, i can even find a part-time job. I can enter just for you, I'm married to you and I love you so much, why should I leave you?"

There were tears in your eyes and you hoped he was right. "What if it doesn't work? If my body miscarries? If we try and never succeed? I don't know if I'm ready to try again-"

Before you finished your sentence, he grabbed your cheek and gave you a messy kiss. He was far from okay, he was desperate, you didn't know how to decipher whether he was trying to silence you or show his emotions. The salty taste of your tears accompanied by the burning in his throat didn't help at all.

You put your hand on his chest and stop him. He was in distress, he probably wanted to stop you with a waterfall of negative thoughts but he didn't know how.

“I don't want to try, I just don't know what to do yet, and it's killing me right now.” You were complaining.

He kissed your forehead and let you lie down.

"We will find a way. It's still new, we can think better or find other ways. Adoption is also a good option, but of course if everything happens at the right time."

You stayed silent for a while, imagining a parallel where Bradley was right and things worked out. Although you were still not convinced by this, you agreed with him. After all, there would be no other way, and you still wanted to have children.

“Adoption sounds good,” you mumbled against his chest. You hadn't thought about it yet, it hadn't even crossed your mind. “There is no risk and there is no way we can go wrong.”

You felt relieved that he was there for you, guiding you to feel better about this.

"You see?" he asked with what looked like a weak smile. "We'll find a way because I don't plan on having kids with anyone but you, so it has to be with you. Whether you like it or not." He joked, drawing a smile from you as he touched your nose with a wet kiss.

It was incredible how he managed to make even the most difficult moments seem lighter.

"Good, because I still want to have your stupid kids.”

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REBLOGS,LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE HIGLY APPERICATED🤍🤍🤍

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waytooinvested · 25 days

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Fic: Small Problem...

A silly little story inspired by this adorable art by @art-by-ilaa19

.............

There was a low, sonorous BOOM, and before she had quite caught up with the fact that anything had gone wrong, Lena found herself sailing through the air as a blast ripped through the Tower. She braced herself for a painful impact, but by incredible good fortune the force threw her directly at the couch, where she landed with a small ‘oomph’ as the wind was knocked out of her.

She lay still for a couple of seconds, struggling to draw breath into her lungs, then fought her way free of the collapsed cushions to make sure her friends were safe and take stock of the damage.

As shocking as it was to be suddenly thrown several feet, the incident actually seemed to have been pretty minor – more a pulse of energy than an actual explosion, really, though it had apparently been enough to knock everyone off their feet.

Kelly and Alex were kneeling beside the bookcase they had hit comforting a crying Esme, though thankfully the little girl seemed to be more startled than actually hurt, having been caught and buffered from the falling books by her moms.

Nia had ended up on top of Brainy on the floor, but from the way they were now staring into each other’s eyes, Lena deduced that they were no worse for wear, and glanced away quickly before she started to feel like an intruder on the moment they were so clearly having.

J’onn was bemusedly brushing soil and flower petals out of his hair after a collision with a pot plant, but the plant had decidedly come off the worst and he seemed to be more or less fine, even with the fetching addition of a Michaelmas daisy tucked rakishly behind one ear.

And Kara was-

Not there.

Given her powers the girl of steel should have been barely ruffled by a force that hadn’t even blown out the windows, and yet one minute she had been standing by the work bench, and now she was… nowhere.

‘Kara?’ Lena stood up gingerly from her place on the couch and looked around, anxiety beginning to stir in her belly.

‘Did anyone see what happened to Kara?’

Distracted from their own minor disasters, everyone turned to look at her, then to glance around the room as if Kara might be simply hiding behind something.

‘You two were cosied up together over something before the blast hit. Didn’t you see where she went?’

Alex’s question would once have made Lena’s hackles rise, but she understood now that it was concerned, not accusatory, and she just shook her head, worry sinking its claws ever deeper with every second Kara failed to reappear.

‘Uuuuh… guys? Wherever Kara is, I think she left her clothes behind’.

Nia had finally managed to disentangle herself from Brainy, and was pointing at the heap of cloth that as yet had gone unnoticed beside the workbench.

‘Oh, that can’t be good…’

Without quite knowing how she had got there, Lena found herself kneeling over the crumpled supersuit, lifting it carefully as if Kara might somehow still be hiding inside it. The fabric was warm from her skin, and Lena had to resist to urge to bury her face in it to hide her tears. It felt like they had only just got Kara back from the phantom zone, and now she was just gone again? So suddenly, and without any warning that she had even been in danger.

‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’

Lena froze.

The voice sounded muffled and very far away, but she had heard it. She was almost certain.

‘Kara? Is that you? Where are you?’

‘Lena? Thank Rao! I’m not sure, I’m trapped somewhere. Some kind of dungeon I think? It’s small and dark, and it smells weird. Can you get me out?’

‘Kara? It’s Alex, we’re all here. We can hear you, just, but we can’t see you. We’re going to work out where you are and get you out. Do you remember how you got there?’

They all held their breath as they listened for Kara’s next message, focusing hard to pick up the distant words.

‘I was in the Tower, then there was an explosion, and I fell. There was a sort of tunnel... I’m at the bottom of it now, but the entrance sealed up behind me’.

The others glanced at each other, all trying to puzzle out what sort of portal Kara might have gone through to end up where she had described and yet still be audible from the Tower. All but Lena, who, being closest, had picked up the direction of the voice. A sneaking suspicion was growing in her mind as she honed in on it and put the pieces together with what Kara had told them.

It couldn’t be… could it?

She rummaged through the layers of discarded supersuit until she reached the knee high boots, which had folded over on themselves without the support of Kara’s legs inside to hold them up. She picked up the left one and peered inside, down the long tunnel of red leather it created.

Nothing.

Feeling a little silly now with everyone staring at her with expressions ranging from baffled to bemused, she picked up the right, and was instantly met with a tiny yell of alarm.

‘Woah! The room’s moving!’

Ah hah.

Lena laid the boot out very carefully on its side, and help the top part open.

‘Kara? Has the tunnel open up again now?’

‘Yes! How did you know that?’

‘I just- well, you’ll see in a minute. Follow the light. But uhh… try not to be too alarmed when you get out. We’re going to fix this, okay?’

They all stared as, blinking against the comparative brightness of the room, a tiny figure emerged from the boot’s opening.

Esme let out a shriek of pure joy, tears entirely forgotten, and would have thrown herself across the room to scoop up her now doll-sized aunt had Kelly not put restraining arms around her.

‘No baby, you might hurt her by mistake. Lets stay back here a minute and let Aunt Lena do it, okay? Lots of big people around her might be a bit frightening for Aunt Kara right now’.

And the sudden loud yell had indeed seemed to startle Kara, making her flinch and dive back into the mouth of the boot. Lena lay down on her side so she could see inside, head level with the cave-like opening.

‘Hey, it’s alright Kara. You’re safe. We’re still in the tower. You seem to have… shrunk, somehow, but we’re going to figure out how to fix it, okay? I promise’.

She kept her voice quiet and coaxing, trying not to frighten Kara any further even as she struggled to wrap her own mind around what had just happened.

‘I… shrank?’

‘It does look that way. You’re inside your boot right now’.

Kara stared up at Lena, then around at the shadowy recesses of her refuge, and finally down at herself. She said something too quietly to pick up, though the tone was bordering on panicky, then she called out again, clearer now that she was no longer muffled by layers of leather.

‘Um… okay. So I have total faith that you’re gonna find a way to full-size me again, but in the mean time… does anyone have anything I can wear? I am… more naked than I realised’.

In the circumstances, Lena hadn’t quite taken in that part either until it was pointed out to her, but... yep. Kara was naked. Extremely, totally, life ruiningly naked. It was something she had fantasized about too many times to count through their years of as-yet-unacknowledged physical chemistry with each other, but if she was ever going to be lucky enough to get there for real, this was not how she had imagined it would go.

Lena averted her eyes quickly, her cheeks heating inconveniently in response, despite the fact that the situation was about as far from sexy as it could get, and Kara was at this moment only around four inches high.

‘Right, of course, I’ll find you something. Stay there a minute, okay?’

Finding miniature clothes on short notice was easier said than done, and in the end they had to settle for a kleenex, which Kara wrapped around herself toga-style, and secured with a hair elastic offered up by a still-delighted Esme. It was pink and sparkly, and had a plastic glitter butterfly ornament attached to it, but it was the best they could do at short notice.

Once she was dressed and had fully emerged from the boot, Lena held out her hand and Kara climbed gingerly up into it, hanging on grimly as she was lifted from the floor.

‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m just… a bit overwhelmed. I don’t think I like being tiny. Also… and this seems kind of insignificant compared to what just happened, but I’m really hungry’.

She sounded totally miserable, and Lena wished she could hug her friend, but she was afraid that wrapping a hand around her would feel more like being grabbed than hugged. She settled for laying a fingertip lightly on Kara’s shoulder in a gesture that, she hoped, would feel comforting rather than alarming.

‘We’re going to figure this out. But in the meantime, hungry is something I can help with’.

Cupping Kara in her hands so she wouldn’t fall, Lena carried her over to the table where various snacks were laid out to fuel them through what they had thought would be a typical day of work. Lena skimmed the various options quickly, before settling on the remains of an order of potstickers and placing Kara down very gently amongst them.

Kara’s squeal of delight was the loudest noise Lena had heard from her since she had been miniaturised, and she couldn’t help laughing as she watched her best friend launch herself at a dumpling that was almost as big as she was.

As she turned back to the others to begin the work of figuring out how to un-shrink Supergirl, she was pretty sure she heard a tiny cry of ‘BEST DAY EVER!’ from inside the box.

It looked like Kara might just have found some upsides to being pocket sized, after all.

#supercorp #kara danvers #supergirl #lena luthor #my fic #supergirl fanfiction #crack fic #light hearted silliness #inspired by fanart #please go and check out the artist's awesome work if you haven't aready

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ay0nha · 1 year

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Lament of My Heart | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: “Tommy…” Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Set pre-episode four & post-episode five w/ moments of pre-outbreak

PAIRING: Joel Miller x femme!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

WARNINGS: SMUT (hand job), mentions of blood, mutual pining/slow burnish, skinny dipping (of sorts), canon-typical things, mentions of Tommy x reader, etc.

A/N: Need to post this before it sits in the drafts to collect dust. Joel is just on my mind all the time, so this is the product of that. Thank you as always @from-the-clouds for listening to my blabbering and entertaining all my ideas! Much love.

“No more questions, Ellie,” You reprimanded her lightly, trying to cover the warmth she was discovering you felt. “Get some rest.”

Ellie was a hard-headed person with the responsibility of society on her shoulders. She carried the weight well, but she was still human, still young. But her questions revealed her growing creativity and sharp wit.

“Not tired.” She hated Joel’s coffee, but the stolen sips still coursed through her veins. You knew it was partly due to the anxiety ahead of them. They all felt it, that tense air of the unknown. “You two don’t seem to get along, though.”

Your eyes flashed to the rear view mirror on instinct. Settled on the truck’s dirty cushions and the supplies being used as a pillow, Joel was asleep. But you weren’t sure how long it would last.

“Ellie-

“It wasn’t a question!” She defended quickly, toying with the edge of her sleeve. She’d been dying to know just exactly why you got under Joel’s skin the way you did. “Tell me about Tommy, at least.”

“Ask Joel.” Your eyes were everywhere. You checked the mirror as if there was traffic, but it was the only thing that kept you occupied. She was making you squirm.

“C’mon, you know he won’t-” Ellie’s own frustrations were building up. In her shoes, you’d be just as curious. “Please.”

Through a thoughtful sigh, you resigned, “Before-We just- We’ve known each other for a long time.” You’d been intertwined with the Miller brothers since before everything. You rarely said it aloud, and now, you struggled to put all the history into something coherent. “I met Tommy when he returned from deployment-

“In Texas?” Ellie hung onto every word, mind spinning tales faster than you could keep up with. “Were you in the military too?”

“I said no questions.”

The comment made her smile. Ellie always appreciated a good game. Loopholes were her specialty.

“Fine, then.” She settled in the passenger seat, knees to her chest as she faced you, “You were discharged with Tommy with more medals than you could count!” Her posture then changed with inventive excitement, “Or maybe a bad-ass sniper with too many confirmed kills to count.” You wished your life was as exciting as she made it sound. “You’re going to have to stop me before I start thinking you led an elite hit squad.”

“Close.” You quipped, “I worked on the military base in town.” It was the first job that hired you and offered some stability for someone your age. “I’d help get soldiers back on their feet once they returned…”

“Then you became friends with Tommy,” Ellie encouraged you to continue. She couldn’t stand the lulls.

Too many years passed for you to remember clearly how you became close to Tommy, but at the time, he considered you his soulmate. Not that either of you really knew what that meant.

“Then I became friends with Tommy.” You nodded. You kept your eyes steady ahead, adding, “Joel, too.” Glancing at Ellie, you finished, “Then we all just…stuck together.”

Separation wasn’t ever questioned, even on the eve of all the destruction. That memory was vivid; the way your bloodied body held onto Joel, dragging him away from it all, Tommy trailing behind, surveilling every move. It was how you moved together for years, protecting each other as much as possible.

“He doesn’t talk about it; before,” Ellie commented lowly. You knew she wished for more from Joel. But she couldn’t see what you saw in the way he softened for her.

“That hasn’t changed with time.” Your words felt too bitter. This time you indulged in a glance at Joel. Still settled. “I’m surprised he’s even talking to me now.”

You always described the Miller brothers as a whirlwind. They may not have necessarily meant it, but they had a knack for sweeping you up and consuming you. When Joel came to you with Ellie, there was no question of whether you would help or not, just when and where you were needed.

He’d never leave without you.

“Tell me something about them...” Ellie pleaded. She was a clever girl who picked up on the weight of his misery. But it wasn’t yours to share. “Before they…before this.”

Your shoulders relaxed while your hands moved to the bottom of the steering wheel as you allowed yourself to filter through only the fond memories.

“Alright, well…” You hesitated with your words. Only because you knew, Joel would tell the story differently. “He and Tommy were wasted…I mean…Absolutely hammered that night.”

Your words had their desired effect, and Ellie’s giggles encouraged you to continue. But it felt strange to make Joel’s drinking habits sound so lighthearted when you know how the habit haunted him now.

“Tommy called me.” The phone in Joel’s kitchen woke you up that night well past the witching hour. “The brothers always got into all kinds of mischief, usually Tommy's fault.” You were typically by his side, provoking him. “Always Tommy’s fault.”

“He sounds fun.” Ellie joined in. You knew in another world, the two would get up to all kinds of mischief if they had the chance.

“He can be, when he wants.” You glanced at the map on your lap. With the sun getting low, it meant you needed to find a safe place to stop soon. “That night, though, the two of them had the bright idea to pretend to be bouncers, only to get into a fight with the actual ones.”

“I knew Joel wasn’t a total hard-ass.”

As you continued to retell the story, you hadn’t realized how much nostalgia you carried with you. Nor were you able to see how you talked so warmly of Joel. Ellie knew exactly what to say to get the information she wanted. But you waited a long time to reminisce freely.

“...When I finally got them home,” You blew a raspberry at the unforgettable effort it took. The stench of alcohol and smoke still made your nose scrunch. “Thank god Tommy had enough sense left to make it to the couch.”

Ellie loved how you teased Joel’s hiccuping that he blamed it on being over-served tequila. It was hard even to imagine he had any of that humor left in him. You embellished the story just enough to entertain yourself. But the story's core provided fertile ground for understanding that nothing you added was too far-fetched.

“They remembered nothing the next morning,” You said. “Tommy found all these numbers written on his arm, said he’d close his eyes and pick which to call.”

“....And Joel, he must have been so hungover…”

“You’d think…” You reflected flatly. “He just got up and went to work.”

From your side, you knew Ellie could sense you holding back. She’d gotten more than she asked for, so she left it. She could see how the echo of that night still felt fresh, doubting you provided her with the detailed ending you lived.

----

“You alright?” The question was slowly processed by Joel, who was trying to steady his breathing before the contents of his stomach came up.

“Yeah, yeah…” Joel held onto you every step, arm slung over your shoulders, making you sway with him with each step to his room.

He was mumbling while you settled him on the edge of his bed. You got every few words while focusing on preparing him for the next day. The brothers had work, and doing this would save you the headache of hearing their complaints.

“B-been thinkin’...” His Texan drawl was heightened as he slurred.

“That so?” You half-heartedly replied, rummaging through his medicine cabinet. You looked for something for the morning.

“Mhmm…”

You could hear him shuffling around in his room. Assuming he’d been pulling his boots off and discarding his jacket, you were surprised to find him leaning on the bathroom’s door frame.

“Then you’ve been hanging around Tommy too much.”

“Tommy…” Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

You still held love for Tommy, but you had mistaken it for something that it wasn’t. The two of you functioned better as friends; you were his confidant and partner in crime. Neither of you would change that for the world.

“And you do?”

Your relationship with Joel had a natural ebb and flow that could be but never got to the point of being volatile. But that didn't stop you from stepping on each other's toes, constantly being on the brink of an argument that neither of you knew the point of.

“Darlin’...” You melted his resolve, helping him the way you were. Joel’s eyes flickered down. Nothing about your outfit was seductive, but the way his eyes loitered told you maybe it had been. Covering his tracks seamlessly, Joel continued, “...The things you deserve.”

Your laugh bounced off the bathroom walls, resonating deep within Joel’s chest.

"What?" Joel asked lightly, his smile starting to mirror yours, but not understanding why, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

“Shit, Joel,” Your laughter lingered, “You must be really drunk.”

“C’mon now.” He tried to stop you. He wasn’t sure he could handle any level of ridicule from you.

But you pushed passed him, drawing his sheets back for the night to be over, “Let’s just get you to bed.”

He stumbled to you willingly, but you could see his mind turning. There was something he wanted off his chest, but you knew you weren’t ready to hear it.

“Come on now, Miller,” You tried again. “We’ve both got work in the morning.”

“What is it you do again?” Joel’s words played with chords of tension. “Besides eat all my food and sleep on my couch.”

"Get by." You joked more for your sake than his.

Joel’s eyes shifted between your own, pupils entirely dilated. Blaming it on the alcohol helped settle your stomach.

“I know y-you don’t stick around for my benefit.”

"God forbid we enjoy each other's company, Joel." Your eyes burned into his. You enjoyed your ability to make him bashful in his stupor. Just a look, and he was crumbling.

You saw it coming. You could have stopped it, but it wasn’t even the length of a decent kiss. It was soft and fleeting because you pulled back to never speak of it again. You doubted Joel remembered, but you could never be sure what he’d admit to.

----

“Did you ever-

“Ellie…” You said her name slowly in warning.

She retracted fast, “Joel and you-

“No.”

Your answer came off harshly. You knew where she wanted to go; she’d circled the topic for hours.

“Can I ask one question?”

“That was a question.” You looked at her again pointedly, “Shoot.”

“Why’d you stay in Boston?”

Sitting with the statement, you focused on the road. Most around you was barren and destroyed but offered an unconventional peacefulness. Sometimes you imagined if you’d be better off in isolation than in a QZ. But you could never bring yourself to just disappear like that.

“As hard as you might try,” You started, pulling the car to the side, “You can’t be alone in this world. With a purpose or not, it just doesn’t work.”

The sudden sway of the car disturbed the sleeping figure in the back. Joel attempted to hide his jolt as he sat up but was already looking out the window for trouble.

“We stoppin’?” Joel’s voice filled the car while the engine cooled.

Joel looked to you for reassurance. Ellie pointed that out to you, the way he valued you despite his resentment.

“We’ve gotten far enough today.” You tossed the keys back to him. “We need food and rest.”

“Alright.”

Your exchanges were clipped.

Yet, you valued the journey with Ellie. Selfishly, the task provided a reason to see Joel again. It had become easier to spend time apart. It became a habit. But even with a quiet meal shared and conversations led by Ellie, it felt good to be with him again.

The pressure shifted. No longer were ration cards on your mind, nor were the curfews you struggled to follow. Something about the night felt freeing despite the heavy responsibility that it meant. Maybe it was the privilege of feeling safe with Joel since he created a protective bubble, sacrificing his rest for yours.

You heard Joel get up when he thought yours and Ellie’s breathing steadied. You were going to leave it, but sleep was hard to come by with your mind racing.

Joel saw your shadow first. But the hand that brushed between his shoulder blades still made him flinch. He spoke in hushed tones, looking to ensure that Ellie was still asleep, “I hope you didn’t come over here to tell me we’re safe.”

“Didn’t say that.” You frowned. He knew you well; you wore your concerns on your face. You just wished he didn’t hold such defiance for them. “But we’ll be alright for the night-

“Don’t.”

Joel wanted to be in control of everything down to the smallest detail.

You knew it was a way of coping, his way, but it never sat right with you. Especially now, as you watched Joel scrutinize the area you chose, you could feel the criticism he was holding back from the moment you parked the car.

Did you even survey the terrain?

Too much open space. No clear route out.

You know better than this.

“We’re the perfect targets.”

“Joel-

“We know how this works,” He voiced over you. Even with you there, his surveillance didn’t change as he remained on a swivel. “It was exactly what we did.”

Joel’s emotions were catching up, but he still held onto a forced restraint. He was expecting resistance, an argument from you. But you heard what he said, how Ellie needed to hear it, to believe him.

No one’s gonna find us.

It was a promise. Something Joel was determined to control.

The wind was picking up the later the night became, and any rustle was faced with a gun barrel. It caused chills to litter your arms out of apprehension. You tried to comfort yourself with your arms tucked to your chest, but it only shifted Joel’s attention.

If you tried hard enough, you could guess what he would say to you. We need to stay sharp. You could feel Joel’s hesitation, though. It happened every time he pushed you away.

There was merit to your diversion, but Joel only allowed it for so long.

“Get some rest.” He nodded toward his forgotten sleeping bag, “No good if both of us are tired.”

----

The car was gone. The brief companions too. Your heart felt permanently caught in your throat. Adrenaline replaced everything. But it was wearing you thin.

“Where are you going?” Respite clung to Joel’s question as his eyes followed your figure up from his crouched position.

Like a cat, you stretched until something deep within your spine popped. You moved towards the shore of the small body of water you all settled by.

Time was at the forefront of Joel’s mind. Time was no longer on your side, meaning the sooner, the better pressured every minute. Daylight became the most valuable thing. And by the looks of it, you were on your way to wasting it.

“We smell, Joel.” You state as you discard the knife strapped around your waist. You were meant to be cleaning them in the water, preparing them for the next fight the way he had.

But your body was sore. You could imagine the pain Joel felt was much worse, physical or not. He put his body first rather than having you or Ellie be the brunt of it all.

Mornings were sacred to you. It was when the birds sang at dawn because the crisp, moist air carried their songs and their meanings farther through the same air that filled your lungs in fluid refreshment.

You pulled your shirt over your head and looped your thumbs in the waistband of your pants as you wiggled them over your thighs and down your legs.

For the moment, Joel’s eyes lingered. He looked for bites. He knew he wouldn’t find anything, but he had to be sure. Instead, Joel found deep hues of bruises still healing from Kansas City.

Almost wholly above the horizon, the sun highlighted the mist rising off the body of water. It veiled your body the closer you were to where the water and the rocks met. Yet, Joel watched on until your arms maneuvered behind your back, searching for the clasp of your bra.

As if the sun was directly in his eyes, Joel looked up, avoiding seeing something that wasn’t meant for him. Except, it didn’t stop him from passing along a warning, “Don’t go out far.”

The dirt from the past days felt like a second layer of skin had embedded into your own, suffocating you. You finally waded into the freezing water to rid yourself of it.

But not before throwing a comment over your shoulder, “Join me, then.”

Your words were like an idle threat that was only met with silence. You knew he was contemplating the offer. Always thinking.

The water was cold, goosebumps littering your skin within minutes and creating peaks where Joel refused to look. He scolded himself for the way his cock twitched at just the idea.

You leaned back so you were nearly floating on your back. Above, a bird glided hypnotically in a wide circle. It seemed you weren’t the only one seeking to rid yourself of a sense of weariness. The cool water swallowed you whole, caressing your skin and relaxing your muscles.

“Someone’s gotta stay with Ellie.” Joel voiced his decision. It was an excuse, what he was supposed to say.

There was no point in fighting it. Instead, you submerged yourself completely; the water consumed you. The longer you stayed under, the closer Joel edged to the water, ensuring you’d come up for a breath.

When you finally reemerged, you held a wicked grin.

“Don’t do that.” Joel frowned at your teasing. His eyes remained downcast, avoiding your eye. The rocks seemed more fascinating than how you became more siren-like by the minute. “I’m gonna find Ellie.”

“She deserves some privacy.” Despite her continuous puns, you were receptive to the fact that she was still impacted.

You all were.

Hyper vigilance became the enemy that threatened to consume Joel whole. Sleep was no longer negotiable. Every movement dragged worry, invited agitation, and controlled his violence. Joel’s chest was tight, and breathing felt hard to come by. He was moments away from unraveling.

“...There won’t be another invitation, Joel.”

Joel’s loaded gaze burned right through you as he took off his clothes. While he was busy shrugging out of his shirt, you took the opportunity to tread out further. Your back was to him, but you heard the swishing of disturbed water.

You reveled in the way your skin burned for him. He’d seen you naked years ago. But not like this, never like this.

----

Joel’s eyes followed the curve of your body. Your chest swayed as you moved around freely. His pounding heart clocked how too much time had passed for him to sneak out. He was frozen.

“You’re not Tommy.” You let out a breath of relief despite your surprise.

The lace rode high on your hips, accentuating your natural curve. Your chest was perked at the sudden attention of being caught so bare. Regardless of the incessant ringing in your ears, you stayed stone still, giving him a chance to say something.

Yet, he shook his head, backing out the door he’d come through, mumbling expected apologies. Joel used the key under the fern and let himself in.

For days he’d been asking Tommy for his tools back. And now, they were forgotten with each hurried step.

You threw on the closest shirt, chasing after him. “Wait!”

“I didn’t mean to-

“Joel, let me explain-

“No, I shouldn’t have-I-I’ll just-”

You found a way to stand before him, blocking his escape route perfectly. “Let’s just slow down…” Your hands were up in defense, mirroring his own. “It’s not what you think.”

Of all people, you wanted Joel to hear you. But the silence was heavy and lacked a proper explanation. You could see the flush that took over his coloring. It was sweet in a way, but you were too mortified to know what to make of it. It wasn’t exactly taught how to handle these sorts of things in school, so you stalled.

“Can I make you some coffee?” An invitation to linger.

Joel looked at you and saw your bare feet moving toward him with hope. He hadn’t meant to, but his eyes scanned your bare legs; the picture of the intricate fabric underneath the oversized shirt made his skin prick. It took him a moment to realize the shirt was his, one Tommy most likely nicked under his nose.

Doubting you knew what that did to him, Joel shook his head, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“One cup.” You promised.

The air was tense when you made it to the kitchen. You insisted on a fresh pot, but the drops felt like they took ages to fill it enough for its purpose. The hem of the shirt skirted the boundary of indecency, but you thought nothing of it. Your focus was on the longing stare Joel was giving you.

“Tommy and I…” You started with a shaky breath. You were sure Joel knew all about the drifting relationship. “I thought maybe this would…” It felt strange explaining yourself the way you had. But you wanted it to be known that even to you, it felt out of character. “He doesn’t look at me the same anymore…”

Your words feigned a sense of yearning. But neither you nor Tommy could keep up the act. Your words seemed heavy, but it was so alleviating to say aloud. To be listened to.

But the smell of coffee pulled you back, reminding you to be a good host. Filling the mugs just below the brim, you broke the small barrier of the kitchen island. You held the mug close to your chest, the warmth working as emotional support while Joel toyed with the ceramic handle.

You lifted the mug to your lips, blowing lightly over the piping-hot coffee, “...But neither do I.”

“I can talk to Tommy if you…” No matter how much it made Joel regret the offer, Joel said the right thing. He couldn’t meddle where he didn’t belong. “I’m sure he’d understand.”

You laughed into your mug. “I’d rather this stay our thing.”

“You say that like this is going to happen again.”

“Joel Miller.” You said his name after a pause. He looked like a child in trouble. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, no, I-

“Joking.” You cut in just as awkwardly as he flushed.

You wanted the mood to lighten, needed it to.

But there was clumsiness in every movement, between your ongoing jitteriness and Joel’s restless fidgeting. So, you moved to the window. On the sill held your half-empty carton of cigarettes, the ones you were trying hard not to touch these days.

With a soft glance back to Joel, you asked, “Mind if I?”

Joel could spot the influences of Tommy in you. Or maybe you had passed along your habits. Either way, it was your home of sorts. Who was he to tell you no?

You had such dexterity with the process. It was like a ritual how you rolled the cigarette over your lips before lighting it. Then after a deep exhale, you utilized the perpetually open window to tap the beginnings of ash.

“I don’t mean to drag you into all of this…” You trailed off through an exhale of smoke through your nose. Joel could see the appeal now. “I just don’t-…Tommy’s my friend, and if I…I don’t know what’ll happen if we’re not…”

The end of something always hurt everyone around you. You all were just playing your roles in delaying the inescapable. But the questions of the future haunted you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to let it all go.

“I’ll let you leave…” You toyed with the lit cigarette that was on its last limb as you spoke. Joel’s silence was becoming deafening. “Promise I won’t hold you up any longer.”

You were sure he had more pressing matters than to comfort you through an inevitable breakup.

“Tommy’ll get over it.” Joel sat back with more relaxation now that he spoke his mind. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

----

Joel kept his distance deliberately. He made the venture into the water seem like another task. In and out.

“I don’t bite, you know.”

He knew you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for too long. He knew what it meant to join you, but he made an effort to seem detached.

“Just giving you some privacy.” Joel echoed your words.

“Right.” Your frustration was clear. You carried it with you for the handful of days that passed. Your frustrations didn’t lie with him like Joel chose to believe.

Instead, guilt filled Joel’s chest. It had been gnawing at him since he left Boston. He should have left you there if he were as reliable as everyone claimed he was. You’d be without bruises. You’d be without his burden. Leaving without you meant there would be no return.

But you knew Joel. You had to remind yourself. You knew what he was thinking, what he wanted. That’s how you knew moving towards him would benefit the both of you.

You moved gradually, leading the interaction by brushing his hair behind his ears. The greys of his hair darkened with the water you carried on your fingertips. He looked younger. He looked like your Joel.

You reached for him, pulling him through the cool water to you. Joel was stiff when your chest met his warmly. He thought of pulling away, but you felt so peaceful that it swallowed him. Your arms wrapped around him with comfort. Your body settled in front of his, gently pressing your hips against him, giving him only an ounce of pressure to entice him.

He noted every twitch. Shyness wasn’t questioned; that barrier was broken years ago. It enabled you to trace his face. Every detail was already committed to memory.

You imagined what he’d say to you all those years ago—anything to make a smile crack.

Careful, now.

All you’re gonna find is a whole lot of ugly.

The scar above his eyebrow marked when your feelings for Joel first latched on. You were blinded by anger then, but the blood scared you. He promised you it was a graze and that he still had his life. But that wasn’t enough proof for you.

When your thumb traced over the faint line, Joel finally found his voice again, “Your shooting’s still sloppy.”

The look Joel held was intimidating, scrutinizing, but you knew he was trying to be witty.

“See now, when you say things like that…” You whispered softly due to the proximity, “I don’t regret shooting you.”

He hummed, appreciating your touch that ventured to his shoulders. You could feel under your hands the tension he held. You wanted nothing more than to provide relief.

“Joel.”

Just his name made your desire clear. He wanted to touch you all those years ago, but he’d never betray his brother like that. But now you invited him to you without any barriers. There was hesitancy in the hold Joel found on your hips. His mind wandered; wavered between the need and the want.

Starting at the swirl of hair on his chest, you followed the trail down until Joel’s breath hitched. Joel felt like he was about to lose it when your hand wrapped around him.

“This feel okay?” You moved your hand against him, slow and soft.

Water dripped from his nose to your shoulder as he nodded eagerly. His groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your own. You tread in dangerous territory but recognized the privilege of his trust.

This was for Joel. You needed this just as much as he did. You didn’t worry if it functioned as a thank you for keeping you alive, an apology for the trouble you’d caused him, or a confession of your own.

It didn’t matter when you indulged in your own lust.

“Do you think of me when you’re on your own?” You asked, fingers wrapped around his shaft, squeezing him until you felt his pulse in your grip.

“Oh- Fuck-” He cut himself off before he let a pet name slip. Joel’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, imprinting his touch into your skin, burned to your very bone.

“Hmm?” You edged him further. Gently, you continued to pump him and move your thumb over his tip.

Joel’s ragged breath fell on your pulse point with each moan as you continued to pump him rhythmically. His hand came up to your throat in a tender hold. His lips hover over yours but refrained from connecting.

It would be too intimate if you had.

“Do you want me to?” The hold gave him dominance even as he shuddered under your touch. Always desiring control.

The water around you rippled with your continued movements. With his free hand, his thumb rubbed gently at the sensitive skin that was near the pebbles of your breast, but he made no effort to touch it just yet. His words and touch were a deadly combination, the kind that made you ache.

“Would that be so bad?” You spoke on his lips, feeling the tickle of his mustache. The more you worked on his release the more you felt his warm pants turn into deep moans. “Come on now, Miller,” You coaxed softly, moving up and down his length with a lively pattern, teasingly and tauntingly. “Tell me.”

Joel’s words were caught in his throat as ecstasy flowed through his veins as the pleasure crashed. His hips jerked against you as his breathing became ragged and his moans became filthy.

He sighed with relief, abandoning himself. He groaned into you, nuzzling his nose in your neck as the aftershocks made him tremble. He could feel your hand threading in his hair, keeping him in your tight embrace.

“Yes.”

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brooooswriting · 1 year

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Hey can I request a fic with Jenna or Tara up to you but it’s like reader is not used to people listening and liking her rambling about something she’s passionate about like super hero’s and comics for example and then Jenna or Tara actually do listen without stopping her and saying she’s annoying and then reader gets all giddy and happy

Own world

Popular!Tara Carpenter x reader

“Did you see the Marvel movie I recommended? It’s really great, the way-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence before your roommate turned away to talk to someone else which made your shoulder sink. This was quite common, your friends never really listened to you, no matter how important the topic was to you. You loved films, it was just a passion of yours as it gave you some sense of comfort in a shitty household. It was also something to do when everybody else was out but you stayed in due to anxiety. You never guessed today would be different.

“Which one? The new guardian of the galaxy?” A small brunette asked, you didn’t even notice her sit down. She must have sat down while you were quiet for a second after you were interrupted. “N-no, the black widow one” you mumbled out carefully, deciding to keep your sentences short, it minimized the risk of getting cut off. “That’s a great one, the Dynamic between Natasha and Yelena is awesome” she smiled at you. You took a second to look at the girl, she was familiar somehow, you believed that she was in your calculus lecture. “Yeah, it’s nice” you mumbled as you played with your water bottle, you guys had a break but you didn’t like eating in front of people. “And she has never watched it?” The girl asked causing you to shake your head, “well which other marvel movie would you recommend and why?” Your face lit up immediately, hers did too. “Oh, the new Thor movie is quite nice, it has a lot of comedy to it but still maintains a balance between jokes and actual storyline. But if you like leading female roles you should watch the new black panther…” you were, again, interrupted by your roommate who now just noticed the brunette in front of you.

“Omg Tara, when did you sit down? I didn’t even notice you, or I would have rescued you earlier” the side eye that was thrown your way was pretty hard but what was even harder was how the brunette, Tara it seems, laughed. You thought she was dearly interested but you were wrong. With disappointment settled into your chest you stood up and walked away, deciding to go back to your dorm room to read some comics you just got. You didn’t notice the way Tara watched you walk away.

The next time you saw her was the next day in your calculus lecture, she sat a row in front of you with two other girls and two guys, while you sat alone. You knew one of the girls that sat next to her, Mindy, she was in your lecture about film and you worked some project together. The short haired girl turned around and waved at you which made you smile as you waved back.

During the lecture you glanced at the group every now and then to notice the following things: 1. One of the guys was watching football while the other one was weirdly starring at Tara, 2. Mindy was asleep by now and her girlfriend was doing some work for another lecture and 3. Tara was clearly not getting shit down there and she was the next person that had to pretend, which made her panic.

“Psst, Tara” you mumbled lightly kicking her chair which made her turn, “come up here and I’ll explain it and give you my work” you told her looking straight ahead so the prof wouldn’t notice. In a matter of seconds the girl climbed over the table and sat next to you, “you’re my savior” she mumbled out as she scribbled your answers down while you explained why you did what. “Miss Carpenter, it’s your turn presenting” the prof called out causing her to stand up, she gave you one last look. You nodded at her as a signal of support.

“Wow, I gotta say I’m impressed. This is the best you’ve been the whole year, seems like you improved. Well, lecture is over” you quickly packed your bag and walked out before the brunette came back up but she seemed to be quick enough to still catch up outside. She stood next to you and grabbed your arm to bring you to a hold, “thanks, you really saved me there. Let me take you out for coffee as a thank you” she smiled at you as you two stood in the middle of the hall, people watching you. It was uncommon, someone as popular as Tara with someone as shy as you.

“You don’t have to, but thank you. I just saw you struggle so I thought I could help, and I’m happy I could, you really don’t though. Mr. Bakers exercises are pretty hard most of the time so I totally get why you struggled” Tara watched you ramble with a small smile, she liked when you rambled. She had been watching you for a couple of weeks now, in the lecture and out on campus, or when you were with Mindy. “As much as I like your rambling, I’m taking you out for coffee. You still gotta tell me a bit” she grabbed your wrist again and pulled you into a caffe on the other side of the street.

She ordered and after a small argument also payed your food. “So, are you at the frat parts tonight?” She asked as you walked over the campus with coffee in hand, “no” you mumbled as you played with the cup in your hand. “Why not? I bet it’s gonna be fun” she smiled at you, she liked your shyness. “I don’t really like big parties especially if I barely know anyone, too many people and I still have stuff do to for the classes” you explained, “you would know me and Mindy and your roommate is gonna be there too right?” You only shrugged which caused her to drop the conversation.

“Tara, nice to see you” one girl you didn’t know called out which caused the two of you to stop. “Hey, how are you?” Tara asked the girl as she gave her a quick hug, you zoned out while they talked not noticing that they walked away, but it seems like they also didn’t notice that you didn’t walk with them. When you zoned back again they were kinda gone already, so you decided to turn around and head to the dorms throwing your coffee into the trash.

It was 10:30 pm when you sat in your dorm watching the Hawkeye series again until there was a knock on the door which confused you, your roommate only left 20 minutes ago there was no way she would be back already. So you finally stood up and opened the door to see Tara in a short dress with makeup on. She looked ready to go, so why would she be here? “Hi” she only said as she looked up at you, “what can I do for you?” You asked her as you looked over her shoulder. “You disappeared today, I wanted to check on you” you breathed out a laugh at her words, “you left with somebody else. I though you wanted to go to the party” she sighed as she looked into the dorm. “I did but I think I’d rather stay with you” your face bushed so hard that you tried to cover your face as best as possible. Nonetheless you took a step to the side to let the girl enter your dorm where she was quick to look around your side.

There were posters from the marvel movies and some pictures on the wall, the shelf’s were filled with comics and some books. “So what are we watching? She asked as she sat on your bed, making herself at home, “I was watching the Hawkeye series but we can watch whatever” you mumbled as you sat next to her. “Is that with the guy who shoots arrows?” You laughed a bit as you sat down next to her, “yeah, Hawkeye or Clint Barton but it isn’t just about him”

Five minutes later you were rambling about what kind of impact someone like Kate bishop had on the whole phase and what could possibly happen between Yelena and her. You were talking on and on without any pause, a smile on your face and your hands wildly gesticulating. “I mean it’s just something different you know? And the way they keep on putting more women into the leading roles just gives us as women a totally new opportunity” and again you just kept on talking until you suddenly stopped and just looked at the brunette in front of you. “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?” She asked as she scanned your face, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to talk the whole time and annoy you” you said as you tuned away from her a bit. “What? Why’d you say that? I was very interested, come on keep talking” she encouraged you with a hand on your leg. “Really?” The shock on your face made her laugh a bit, “yeah”

So you kept talking, you were all giddy, smiling and laughing as you explained why you were so invested and she listened, sometimes asking questions but all with a smile on her face. “Do you maybe wanna, you know, stay and watch it with me? I could lend you something to wear if you want” she smiled brightly as she nodded.

Ten minutes later you two laid in bed in joggers and hoodies, her makeup was washed off showing her natural beauty. The Hawkeye series was playing in the background, “thank you” your voice was small and she wouldn’t have heard you if you weren’t laying so close. “Why?” She asked as she looked at you instead of you laptop, “because you listened to me, people barely do” you explained which made her sigh. The younger carpenter wasn’t sure what to say so instead she just shuffled closer and cuddled up to you.

Somewhere between the episode the two of you fell asleep, cuddled up with the series playing quietly. You woke up the next morning with a sticky note next to your pillow, it was from Tara.

“I had to go back before my sister kills me. Lunch at 2pm? If not call me

Xxx-xxx-xxx”

You smiled at the note as you got ready.

After some torturing lectures it was finally 2 pm. You went outside to find Tara and her group sitting at a table, she immediately waved you over. “Y/n, good that you’re here. Marvel or DC?” Mindy asked as Tara pulled you to sit next to her. “Marvel all the way” you answered causing Mindy and the younger carpenter to high-five. “No, so not true. DC has way better storylines” Chad said, his twin immediately booing him. “Y/n, tell him how he is wrong” the girl next to you said, but you were to self conscious about your rambling. “It’s fine, trust me” she mumbled as she wrapped her arms around your waist which gave you the comfort to start talking.

This was the first time in years that you finally had someone who wanted to listen to you. You discussed the topics with the others while Tara gazed up at you like you hung the stars.

Again you mumbled a “thank you” to her which made her kiss your cheek. You blushing again

She couldn’t wait to take you on a date.

You were scared of the way people were going to react.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n

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updownlately · 11 months

Text

make me yours my love (cause you’re nobody to me, yet somebody to me)

| alessia russo x reader | fluff (tooth-rotting fluff) | 4.5k | a/n: heard a song from another language, got obsessed with it, translated it to english, and wrote a fic. ended up losing the plot half way through and bs-ed the rest over the course of a week. anyways, i hate it, here you go.

~~~

You had never thought you’d leave North America. It was where you grew up. Where you’d had your best and worst times. It was home.

And when you had moved to Seattle from Vancouver to join the OL Reign, you thought that playing in the NWSL would be your greatest achievement, never expecting anything outrageous to occur, never daring to entertain the idea that you would ever venture any farther away from home. Thus, you clearly didn’t account for your hard work to actually pay off and for you to attract the attention of European clubs with the likes of Manchester City, Aston Villa, or Manchester United.

Even with your hesitance on leaving the continent, you had accepted United's offer almost as soon as it had come through, only waiting to double check with Sue and Megan on what their thoughts were. Of course the two women you saw as parental figures had freaked out on your behalf. They didn’t need to say it verbally but with the way they supported you as you virtually signed the contract and got ready to move showed you how incredibly proud they were of you for not only continuing to rise to a higher level in your career, but for pushing yourself out of your comfort zone.

But when the offer to extend your single year contract into a three year came, however, it wasn’t Sue, Megan, or anyone else back home who played a role in your decision. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly as some of the training staff would say, it was your United teammates that unknowingly convinced you to stay.

In the single year you had spent with them, they had welcomed you with open arms, taking you in as one of their own.

Zelem and Mary had become your unofficial team moms, making sure you never got into too much trouble whilst Tooney, Millie, Leah, and the other girls had practically become your sisters. And of course, you had Alessia. Sweet, clumsy, back heel queen Alessia had become one of your closest friends in the new city, her being one of the only few people your introverted self had felt fully comfortable around.

You never understood why or how you were able to so quickly feel so relaxed around the tall girl, you typically being quite shy and reserved with new people, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

Moving countries, much less continents, was never easy, but with Alessia beside you since day one, it had never been too difficult.

Since the day that you had awkwardly waved hi to the United girls and attended your first official WSL practice, Alessia hadn’t left your side once. In fact, within the first few weeks of you being in England, the rest of the girls had established that wherever Alessia was, you were and vice versa, one rarely being found without the other.

Through the homesickness, loneliness, anxiety, and at one point, even depression, she had been there next to you. Be it picking you up and dropping you off from practice, bringing over home cooked meals, or tours around the city, she’d been your rock as you struggled but finally adjusted to being alone again.

And when city tours turned into trying new restaurants together and her dropping off home cooked meals led to bi-weekly movie nights with Alessia’s heavenly dinners or take out, you both never acknowledged how much you cared for each other. Really though, you didn’t have to. A blind person could feel the love that you both radiated for each other.

It was spoken through the way Alessia had become less clumsy over the months, with you now there to catch her. To pull her aside before she could crash into a defensive training dummy. To ensure that her laces were tied and she was aware every time the ground was raised or there was a kerb to watch out for.

Alessia told you she cared when she’d hold you tightly against her chest, after every hard game, practice, or just day. The height difference between your 5’3'' and her 5’9'' was near comical but neither of you minded. If anything, in your opinion, it just made the hugs better since you could bury your face in her neck and block out the world for a few minutes. If Alessia minded, she surely didn’t say a word to you. You didn’t know it but if Alessia was completely honest to herself, she truly loved when you’d hug her. She absolutely adored the way you’d hide your face as you’d hug her, you standing on your tiptoes to comfortably rest your head in the crook of her neck, letting only her see you break, trusting her so easily, warming her heart each time.

You’d whisper the depths of your care when you’d let her lean on you during your movie nights, carding your fingers through her hair when you knew she was on the brink of sleep. In the way you’d slowly manoeuvre both yourself and her into a more comfortable position, her often ending up curled up on top of you, not that you minded at all, welcoming her warmth. How you’d ignore the inevitable stiff neck you would always wake up with since you’d always watch movies in the living room. In your eyes, the pain was always going to be worth seeing the blonde hugging you tightly whilst she slept on your chest.

The star striker would whisper her care ever so softly, staying on call with you during the nights where you missed Seattle a bit too much. When she’d bring you your favourite coffee the next morning, knowing that you’d be tired from your mind running the night before. When she’d drive you to practise, putting on your favourite playlists for the fatigue ridden ride, without you so much as having to ask, her knowing you almost as well as she knew herself.

You both had eventually become so close that even Tooney joked that she should move out and retire from being Alessia's best friend now that you were here for the title. You had simply laughed in response, knowing that at the end of the day, at the end of the month, at the end of the season, even though she was just your teammate at United, she was also simply your favourite person in Manchester (and possibly England, and maybe, just maybe, even in the whole world).

You weren’t someone to really believe in love, having had to witness almost every romantic relationship around you crash and burn, save for Binoe (bless them). So when Alessia clumsily toppled into your life, you didn’t expect that she’d make a home in the cracks of your broken heart. You didn’t expect for her to line the streets of your heart with cosy buildings of every delightful colour known to mankind. You didn’t expect for your heart to flutter like a butterfly each time she was near, the euphoria of having her close nearly causing your feet to grow wings, placing you on cloud nine.

She had your heart and you had no idea when she had taken or how she had taken it, but she had. The way her eyes would crinkle as she laughed had wrapped its threads around your soul. The way she’d have to lean down to hug most of her teammates, you included, and she’d never complain, doing so without being asked, restored your faith in the world. The way her smile would rival the warmth and brightness of the morning sun on your worst days had you smiling softly by yourself as you couldn’t help but stare at her, the only star that you would gladly let damage your eyesight.

While to everyone else she was just your teammate and friend, to you she was so much more. She wasn’t yours but she was something to you, somebody to you, and you hoped to god that you’d never lose her.

It’s funny looking back at when you first realised you were in love with the blonde. It had taken you almost half a year to register that you wanted more than a friendly relationship with her. You remember the exact moment so vividly, having replayed it over and over again in your mind as you lay on your bed, gently begging whatever higher deity existed to make your dreams a reality.

You both, as well as the rest of the team, had just finished a gruelling late training session and Alessia had somehow managed to convince you to let her come around so both of you could make pasta from scratch. You were unbearably tired, not having slept well the night before and the request to postpone the plan was on the tip of your tongue. However, you had made the mistake of looking up from your training bag and right into the bright blue eyes of the taller girl just as you were about to say no, and instead, you (embarrassingly easily, might you add) were persuaded to do nothing but hum in agreement to Alessia’s request.

So once she had picked up the necessary ingredients whilst you waited, trying and failing to nap in the car, and you both had made it to your flat, she had begun flitting around your kitchen, already at home in your house.

You were sitting on the counter, banned from helping due to your tiredness, contentedly watching the partially-Italian woman as she stirred the pasta sauce she had made, that the thought of this scene being ever-present for the rest of your life had briefly crossed your mind. However, you had waved it off at that time, blaming the exhaustion in your bones for your delusional feelings. It had worked and you had forgotten about your yearning for a few seconds, until Alessia had switched the stove off, turned to you, and had taken in your drowsy appearance.

Wordlessly, she had bridged the gap of a few feet between you and gently pulled you towards the edge of the island, pushing apart your legs and bringing her arms to gently wrap around your midsection. It was as she slotted herself perfectly in the space she had created, nudging your head to rest comfortably in the crook of her neck, that you inhaled a deep sigh and let yourself relax, sinking into the hug. As your mind finally began to slow down, the circles Alessia was rubbing on your back calming you quickly, the whole situation hit you.

Here you were, in the arms of your best friend, after she had just finished cooking you dinner, and was holding you so gently, reading you like a book, providing you with the comfort you needed to finally rest. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Alessia was currently peak girlfriend material - hell even possibly wifey material. Tired and relaxed, this time when the thought of being the only one who Alessia would treat so perfectly like this for the rest of her life came across your heart, you let it warm you, indulging in the loveliness of being cared for.

You had known then, that the blonde irrevocably had your heart, and you were helpless to do anything about it. You were nothing but putty in her hands, your fate lying in hers.

From that point on, you had made it your goal to love Alessia the best you could, regardless of whether she loved you back or not.

As days and months went on, you two got even closer, if that was even possible. If you had thought that both of you were close before, the present put the past to incredulous shame. Your morning routine now definitively consisted of picking up Alessia before morning training and other team events and driving the proud ‘passenger princess’, as you liked to call her, to grab breakfast and head to practice, Tooney joining you two once in a blue moon. Bi-weekly movie nights had become weekly occurrences, and her dropping off home cooked meals turned into you both cooking together in your tiny kitchen most nights.

Telling Alessia you had extended your contract had been one of your favourite moments of the postseason. With her due to play for United another two years too (totally not a deciding factor in your renewal at all), the idea of her getting to spend the remainder of her contract playing not only with Tooney, Mary, and many of the other close friends she’d made, but with you as well excited her unfathomably. The blonde hadn’t stopped smiling for a week straight, and you had a feeling that if she had gone even a single day longer than she had, her face would’ve frozen with her blinding smile stuck permanently.

You knew then, you were a goner for her, for that smile, for the comfort she gave you, her hugs that healed you. You knew you’d give her all of you without taking anything in return, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care either. You’d give her the world if she asked, all it would take for you to do so is her saying the words, no qualms on your end. You knew that be it as a friend or a lover, you wanted to be the cause of her smiles, her laughs at everything stupid, and the reason her eyes would sparkle with joy. You knew that you wanted her, you just didn’t know she wanted you too.

So caught up in your own head, in your own yearning for the taller girl, you never noticed the longing stares or the blush that would coat her cheeks each time you were near. You never questioned why she’d hug you significantly longer than anyone else, even Tooney or her own mother. You completely, almost idiotically obliviously missed the way she’d go out of her way to make you comfortable, how she had made it her priority as much as you had made it to ensure that her smile would stay.

The two of you danced around each other for months without knowing, two threads dangling from the sky, tangling so effortlessly, yet making no move to separate. You two were bound together unknowingly, without a title, without it being something, without a label. You both were each other's nobody’s, the “no-one special”, yet both of you were silently craving to be each other’s somebody. All you needed really was for the other to make you theirs, the pair of you too scared to accidentally overstep and risk losing the other completely.

At the end, it only took the two of you just over a year and a half before the two of you made any move towards dating.

It was a chilly mid February day. You had gotten injured that morning, hurting your ankle quite severely and Alessia had so graciously offered to crash with you for a few nights to help you out. You had once again, familiarly, found yourself situated by your island, slumped on the counter, painkillers from the hospital coursing you through your veins, as Alessia cooked for you.

While the sight had become more common to you over the past handful of months, it never got old. The way she’d (for once) gracefully move around, opening your cabinets and rummaging through your pantry and fridge with familiarity and ease, in her element, swaying gently to yours and hers shared playlist you had playing on your speaker. The way her hair was tied back yet a few strands always seemed to spill through, framing her face perfectly. How the heat from the stoves had her cheeks tinted, ever so slightly strawberry red. How absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous she looked bathed in the soft golden lighting of your house, a house that turned into a home whenever she was there.

This time, instead of shying away from watching her as you usually would, you let yourself indulge, eyes tracing the way her arms would flex as she chopped the necessary ingredients, as she used the bench scraper to toss everything into the sizzling pan. You admired the way your old oversized hoodie fit her absolutely perfectly, your last name sitting prettily on her back, as if that sweatshirt was meant to be hers.

You’d been so caught up in your unabashed staring that you didn’t realise Alessia had turned to face you, ladle in hand, the other on her hip, a single eyebrow raised in amusement.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” she teased.

“Definitely did. Something about dinner and it being ready?” You jested, hoping that your obvious guess was at least somewhat close.

“You’re lucky you’re attractive, and half a decent defender…otherwise I wouldn’t be cooking for you y’know.” The way Alessia smirked as your cheeks heated up told you that the striker knew exactly what she was doing, winking at you before laughing and turning around. “Anyways, like I was saying, the doc said you’re probably going to feel really drowsy once the meds wear off, though the pain should definitely be gone. I’m thinking once dinner’s done, we can just go crash in your room, put on a movie or something so I don’t have to carry you around when you knock out? I’m clumsy enough on my own, I don’t need to be holding another person to test it,” she continued.

“Good with me. Plus, at least you’re self-aware enough to know that you are a walking Bambi. It’s honestly a miracle that you aren’t constantly wrapped in bubble wrap at this point.”

“Okay just for that comment, I’m picking the movie and I’m not giving you my hoodie.”

“That’s not fair, I’m drugged up right now. If anything, that’s abuse. You’re torturing a helpless individual,” you mumble as you lay your head on the cool surface of the island.

“Definitely torturing you by cooking you supper and not giving you my hoodie… and as I let you rest since you’re injured and doped up, right?” You could only groan in response to her logic, pouting at not being able to come up with a response.

As Alessia continued to move around your kitchen, finishing up on dinner and plating the food, you went back to observing her. You studied the way she tried the stir fry, taking a bite before scrunching her face adorably and adding more ingredients to fix whatever she thought was lacking. You watched her as she finally decided everything was ready, as she sweetly plated food for you first, handing it to you, before doing so for herself. You smiled, fascinated with the way her body moved as grabbed waters for the both of you, entranced by the ease in her movement.

You were distracted throughout the whole dinner, mumbling responses, missing questions. You blamed it on the medications and fatigue when the forward beside you asked if you were okay, but in actuality your mind couldn’t help but constantly wander to imagining what it would be like if this was your life. If dinners with Alessia could be your future. If movie nights in your bed, you in her hoodie could be a regular occurrence. You knew you’d thought it before, the ideas were nothing new to you, but you had never craved it this bad before, never wanted it more than right now.

You’d been so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed Alessia grabbing your dishes or her own, nor her loading the dishwasher. It was only when she had stepped in front of you that you snapped out of your reverie.

“You sure you’re okay? You seem really out of it…you know I’ve got you right?”

When you fail to meet her eyes immediately, she cradles your face in her hands, one on either side of your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet her eyes. Her worried eyes scan your face and then the rest of your body, trying to pinpoint something, anything that could have been the cause of your dip in mood.

“Seriously, what’s going on? You were fine just a little while ago. Is it your ankle? Is the pain back? The doctor said the medication would wear off around midnight but if it’s wearing off right now we can call the hospi-”

Shaking your head amusedly at her worried rambling, you cut her off before she forgot how to breathe. “Less I’m fine.”

“Bull. You haven’t said more than 5 words ever since I asked about watching a movie. Oh my gosh, is this about how I said I’m picking the movie? ‘Cause if so, you can totally pick, I swear. I was just teasing. And… and of course you can have my hoodie too. I promise I was just joking. I didn’t mean t-”

“Alessia,” you stated firmly, a slight frown returning to your face when it was her who now couldn’t look at you.

Sensing her anxiety, you reach out for the blonde, hands finding home on her hips, squeezing gently, just enough to get her to finally stop scanning your body for injuries and instead look at you.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just been thinking, that’s all.”

“About? What’s got you so distracted? If it’s the injury, we both know you’ll be back in no time. I don’t mind sticking around to help around while you’re recovering. I’d be happy to help you know? I don’t mind. Plus-”

“Less, it’s not the injury. I don’t care about the recovery. I’ve already accepted that I won’t be playing for a few weeks. Stop worrying, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal, yeah right…” she scoffs, her hands moving to your shoulders. “Are you actually not going to tell me what’s going on? What’s bothering you? Was it something I did? Is that why you’re not telling me? If I messed up I’ll fix it okay? I'd rather fix it than lose you. Please. Please tell me what’s going on so I can fix it.”

It was in the next few moments that you contemplated whether it would be worth it. Whether potentially destroying your friendship with the blonde that you’ve been in love with since you met her over a year and half ago would be worth the risk of telling her and outing yourself. You considered pretending everything was fine, to make up some excuse using your newly acquired injury or something about the fans and the pressure, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t lie to her. You couldn’t be dishonest. Not when you looked up and saw the care and concern etched in her face, wrinkles scattered across, creases from distress that you had caused.

You figured that if anything, if, no when, when she told you she didn’t feel the same, you could take the next few weeks you had off for healing and rehab to get over her. It wouldn’t be so bad right? You could take those three weeks to heal your ankle and your heart, and then you could go back to being Alessia’s best friend again.

“Hey, I promise I won’t judge alright? Whatever it is, it’s safe with me, I swear on football,” came the gentle voice from the girl towering above you.

You waited a second before looking up, taking a deep sigh in, revelling in the peace before the chaos that you knew was going to come after. Looking in her eyes, you audibly swallowed, before closing your own.

“I’m in love with you. Have been for ages now, and it’s killing me. It’s killing me to see you in my kitchen, at my house, making it a home. It’s killing me to have you cuddle into me when I know I can’t pull you closer at every chance. It’s physically breaking me when I can’t walk up to you in my kitchen and kiss you to thank you for cooking for me, for taking care of me. It’s hurting me when I know that there’s probably going to come a day where you find someone else and I’m left here with your ghost. It terrifies me that I’m nobody to you but you’re somebody to me.” Your voice cracks in the last sentence and you pray to whatever God existed that she couldn’t hear your heart quietly cracking too.

When a minute passes in complete silence, and then another, you dare to open your eyes. Taking a shaky breath in, you don’t know what to make of the sight in front of you. There, Alessia stands, in all her glory, your hands still on her hips, her head tilted back, eyes glazed over, on the verge of tears.

Your heart’s breaking further with each second that passes and you mentally prepare yourself for the rejection that’s incoming.

“Please say something. Please…”

A beat passes. Then two, before Alessia finally looks back down at you, a lone tear falling from her eyes, one that she quickly wipes away, a smile on her face. “Took you long enough to catch up.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The possibility of your dreams becoming a reality never seemed plausible to you. “Less, don't play. Please,” you beg.

“You were never nobody to me idiot. You weren’t ever nothing to me. You’ve been somebody to me since I met you y’know? You’ve had my heart since you walked onto the training pitch, looking like a lost kid.”

“Honest?” You asked, just to make sure you weren’t hearing things, that she actually liked you back, that you weren’t dreaming. When Alessia nodded in return, you couldn’t help but smile, your grin stretching from ear to ear.

Wiping the few tears that had made their way down your face, you moved your hands to wrap around the other girl, pulling her close to you, hugging her tightly. You tucked your head into the chest, her arms wrapping around your neck, your beaming smile hidden in the cloth of her sweatshirt.

“Let me make you mine? Go on a date with me?” The blonde quietly asked, kissing the top of your head.

This time, it was your turn to nod. You did so energetically, practically vibrating with happiness, twin grins adorning both yours and Alessia’s face.

You couldn’t ever fathom the idea of leaving Canada as a child, yet now, all grown up, on your own, you’d never been more glad you had left. That you had allowed yourself the opportunity to find a new home, one that you found here, in the arms of Alessia Russo.

You’d spent months thinking you weren’t anybody to her, and now? Now you knew you were somebody to her. That you weren’t alone this whole time. That she wanted to make you hers all along.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #fluff #x reader #reader insert #my writing #fic #mmyml #alessia russo

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leclerced · 6 months

Note

alr we’ve had size kink with oscar but what about max? he’s so big and beefy and he would just go so feral and protective over his girlfriend

crying i want protective gf max

he already touches people sm like you see him around charles? its a hundred times worse with his girl. they practically have separation anxiety and can’t be apart for more than a few hours without getting moody so she goes everywhere with him and is attached to his side at all times. it’s only when he’s working that she’s not right next to him, and even then she’s watching him from the back of the garage and he’s constantly aware of where she is. when they’re together, he’s usually standing right behind her, towering over her and intimidating anyone who might think about approaching her. she’d get him out of his stupid redbull gear and wearing good outfits so he’d be like a well dressed body guard behind her. he’s always got his hands on her. when they’re walking it’s on the small of her back as he guides her in front of him, or his arm is wrapped securely around her to keep her close when it’s crowded. standing together, they’re on her waist or wrapped around her while he rests his chin on her head. cameras in the paddock always spot them in the back of the garage with her leaning back against a wall and him towering over her, one hand on her waist and one on the wall above her head as they’re lost in their own little world. occasionally it’ll catch him dipping down for a kiss and it trends everywhere ofc and he’d try and get cameras banned and get told he shouldn’t be making out where cameras can see

he’d almost get into a fight at every club they’re in because somehow they always get separated and some guy is flirting with her despite her clearly not being interested, the only thing preventing max from attacking on sight is knowing he might break the hands he needs to fuck his girl, and to drive, if he punches too hard. the guys always back off as soon as he approaches, even the ones bigger than him back down when they meet his intense glare and hear his threatening voice as he interrupts them. she’d immediately press herself into him and he’d relax a little as she guides him out of the club and back to the hotel, happy to take advantage of his now possessive mood as he grabs her hips with a bruising grip to keep her close.

#ask #anon #max verstappen smut #mv1 smut #mv1 blurb #mv1

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butididntpourthewhiskeys · 2 months

Text

CITYBOUND III

TW: sexual references 🚨

With her face in the sun, Taylor closes her eyes, feels the warm sensation hit her skin. A siren goes off, only a few feet away. The usual car honking that always reminds her exactly where she lives, also doesn’t stop. But it won’t end this peaceful moment. The first rays of sunshine in New York City this year. The first time she’s on the rooftop this year. Eleanor’s little voice from afar, playing by herself. In her winter puff jacket and with her sunglasses on her nose, she opens her eyes again now, looking at the blonde toddler sitting on the wooden patio floor only a few feet away from her. She’s playing with her dolls on top of the stairs leading to the covered pool. She seems to be in her own world, doesn’t even notice Taylor sitting on the sofa next to her, with a wool blanket on top of her. The fact that she so desperately soaks in these first sunrays of the year makes it more than obvious that she and Eleanor need to escape to LA for a few days. She can’t take winter no more. Time for spring to come.

“Honey, remember, no playing by the pool top.” Taylor says, using her hand to shield her sunglasses, making sure she can see clearly what the toddler in her green puffer jacket is doing. Eleanor just nods, two big tails on the little curly head. She’s playing with the two mini dolls that her mother got her a few weeks ago and she still seems to be obsessed with these little princesses. Taylor smiles. She sinks her head, fixes the big blanket over her legs and checks her phone. Just as she was about to reply to the dozens of unanswered messages in her inbox, she can hear the door from the end of the rooftop open. Within two seconds, Taylor sees two huge feet tucked into these ugly big Nike slippers. In his sweatpants he closes the door slowly, smiling through the sun right at her. He’s done with work. She’s glad. Two hours were two hours too long. Too long of him working, and her pretending as if she’s glad to have some time by herself.

“Wow, this is nice.” he says as he slowly makes his way towards her. With an approving smile, Travis takes a look around the luxurious rooftop. Hard to believe that this peaceful outdoor space is right in the heart of Manhattan.

“Yeah.” she just says, her eyes still focused on the tall man, slowly making his way towards her. He lets himself fall down right next to her on the outdoor couch. She smiles at him through her sunglasses.

“How was it?”

“Good.” he smiles at her, his hand already on her thigh again, right above the blanket that’s been keeping her warm out here. “Jason says hi.”

She smiles, nods. She wonders what his brother thinks about all this. She knows that Travis is very independant from anyone’s opinions. It’s one of the things she admires about him. She knows he won’t get influenced by anyone else’s opinion about what they’re doing, who she is or whether this really is a good idea. But she still wonders what his family thinks. The fact that he’s just spending the week here, at her apartment. With her and her child. A weird thought that brings up some anxiety the more she thinks about it.

“Thanks.” she says, and he can feel that she’s insecure of how to react suddenly.

“I didn’t.. I didn’t tell him much. He knows I’ve been seeing you, but nothing more.” he says, has clearly just read her mind again. She nods. It’s okay. This answer is something she can live with.

“I know.” she says quietly, moves her cold hand on top of his. Her eyes looking for Eleanor once more. Travis just looks at the blonde woman next to him, smiles. He moves his thumb a little up and down, gently caressing her small and soft hand that’s on his.

“How are you feeling?” he asks then, and Taylor looks back at him. She sighs, leans back on the comfortable sofa that the two are sitting on, just facing the sun. He still can’t believe how nice and quiet it is here, in the middle of a rooftop in this big city jungle.

“Crappy, to be honest. But it’s okay. I’m used to it. Anytime she gets something, I get it two days later. Just… mom life.” she says, almost laughing at the end of her sentence. He nods. “I feel bad though because I told you a million times that you’re getting it next. And..”

“And I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he interrupts her gently, not raising his voice. Instead, his hand just keeps on caressing hers and it does something to her that she can’t quite explain. She feels safe. She feels seen.

“You’re stubborn, has anyone ever told you that before?”

He laughs at her statement, throwing his head back like a little kid for a second. She can’t help but smile at him, too. She loves it when he laughs like this. She loves how easy everything is with him. There’s no darkness when they’re together. The black dog that always follows her around just disappears. This familiar blue feeling of anxiety on her chest dissolves slowly. He’s pure sunshine, and she doesn’t know he is aware.

“Touché.” he just says. She smiles. She’s got no arguments left.

“Mommy, Travy. Look.”

The two are suddenly pulled out of their thoughts. With her little pink converse shoes, Eleanor comes running towards the two of them. Travis can’t help but laugh at her bouncy pigtails. With her finger up in the air she stops right in front of him, holding the little ladybug right into his face.

“Honey, don’t.. don’t push it in Travis’s eye, please. Careful.” Taylor tries to stop her toddler, but it only makes the man next to her laugh. With his big hands, he gently holds on to the little hand, looks at it in awe, just like Eleanor did before.

“Wow, where did you find this little beauty?” he asks Eleanor. Her eyes are lid up. Taylor loves it. She loves seeing the world through Eleanor’s eyes. She loves that for this little girl, life is still as magical as it can get.

“It.. it was just flying on my hand. Just like that.” she says, giggles in excitement that this little animal chose her for a visit on this sunny afternoon.

“Want me to show you a trick?” Travis asks, and Eleanor nods. Taylor watches the interaction and smiles. With his huge fingers, he shows the little girl how to get the ladybug to crawl from her one hand to the other. Eleanor giggles, and Travis smiles at her when she does it herself for the first time.

“Now, you have to make a wish. Close your eyes.”

With a smile on the little face, she closes her eyes. Her small hands still gently in Travis’s. Taylor’s heart feels like bursting for a second.

“You got one?”

“Mhmhm.”

“Now blow it away. One, two…”

Eleanor blows the ladybug away, jumps up and down for a minute out of excitement. Travis laughs at the little girl’s excitement, still holding both her hands in his.

“Great job, E. High five.”

Eleanor claps her small hand against Travis’s. The smile on the little face is so evident to Taylor. Eleanor feels the sunshine, too.

Not just the one coming from the New York skies today.

She runs away, back to playing with her dolls at the end of the patio. Travis still chuckles, looking after her. His hand wandering to hers again.

“She’s so adorable.” he laughs, then looks at Taylor. She smiles at him, and he knows exactly what her face is telling him right now.

“I know, she is. Thanks for.. for being so sweet with her.”

Travis doesn’t say anything for a moment. He appreciates her words. Truth is, he appreciates every moment of the past 48 hours. Being here, in her home, with Taylor and her daughter. Being able to just be together. Watching her take care of her child. Taking care of her. Lots of hugs to give and witness. Lots of kisses in this house. Lots of laughs. He hasn’t felt this happy and secure in a while and he hopes that this bubble won’t burst anytime soon. He knows it’s outrageous for him to have cancelled a majority of his off season plans for this week, just to spend time here. It’s unlike him to give up work (and play) commitments just to be with a woman. But this time, it’s different. It feels more like a deep need to be here with her now. Not like a choice. He knows, he needs to find the right words soon. But for now, it’s enough to turn off his mind for a bit. Enjoy a few more hours of heaven with Taylor.

“Thanks for introducing me to her.” he replies, his face moving closer to hers. He gently kisses her cheek, his beard scratching her slightly. She looks back at him, nods then. Her forehead leans gently against his chin, her small hand caresses his beard for a moment. He steals her forehead a tiny kiss.

“Means a lot, Tay.” he adds. She nods. He knows it still makes her feel incredibly vulnerable to have let him enter her and Eleanor’s life. And he can only fathom why. It must have been a tough fight for her to take back her own life after separating from Eleanor’s dad. And he knows she won’t let anyone hurt her daughter ever again. But he just wishes she’d know that he will never hurt either of the two.

She doesn’t reply to him, instead lets her head gently fall onto his shoulder. His arm wanders around her and he loves holding her like this. The sun facing them. It’s peaceful here. It’s peaceful between them. He loves to feel this shift since the other night. Since the night she opened up, and allowed him to get close.

Closer than ever before.

___

With the hood of his jacket pulled deep into his face, he enters her building. It’s gotten dark outside now, and the sunny afternoon has turned into an icy, freezing night. Brandon opens the big doors for him, then enters the code to operate the elevator for him, and a few seconds later he steps inside. The doors close, and he can finally pull down the hood covering him. He can breathe again. None of the paparazzi outside have noticed him.

“Quiet evening, man?” he asks the security guard, who politely smiles back.

“Yeah, all good. Did some shopping?”

Travis smiles and nods, the wine he got for himself and Taylor securely wrapped in a brown bag in his hands.

“Yup. Got her some snacks. Keeping both of’em happy.” he jokes.

Brandon smiles. The interaction ends once the elevator door opens again. Travis steps outside, uses the key she gave him to enter the penthouse. Brandon says his goodbye, wishing him a nice evening and Travis closes her door. In an instant, her smell creeps back into his nose, into his lungs, into his… heart. It’s the same smell as her hair, when he kisses her head gently. The same smell as all her clothes, and the bed he slept in for a few nights now. He feels this indescribable feeling of happiness again, just by smelling her. He knows he’s far beyond the stage of falling for her. Her home feels like home to him, and every day - it just keeps getting worse.

Travis takes off his jacket, gently throws it over the chair in the living room. He steps into the generous, open kitchen, and carefully places the bags of food and wine on the countertop. He knows Taylor struggled to get Eleanor to sleep tonight. So the last thing he wants to do is wake up the small girl. He takes the bottles of wine from the brown bag, finally finds free space in the wine cabinet on the other side of the kitchen.

“Hi.” he hears a familiar voice coming from the stairs then. He turns to her, closes the wine cabinet. She smiles, the same make up free face as earlier, before he left to go to the grocery store on Greenwich Street that she loves so much. She’s in her comfy clothes from before, her bangs a bit messed up from Eleanor’s pillow.

“Is she out?” he asks, and Taylor nods, makes her way up to him. He immediately opens his arms, pulls her in for a tight hug. Her face pressed into his shoulder, nothing but her bangs looking out. She breathes him in.

“Yeah finally.” she sighs, “Why do you smell so good.”

Travis chuckles, moving his head in her tight hug to kiss her soft cheek again.

“You smell so much better.”

She lets go of him, both her hands wandering to his face. She smiles, then comes closer to kiss him gently.

“I got you some snacks. And wine. And..”

“Thanks so much. I promise, I will make a batch of cookies later tonight. I haven’t forgotten it. And I really want you to try these. Because, quite frankly, it’s a crime to stay at my house for more than 24 hours without trying my chai..”

“Hey, I have a better idea.” he says then. She stops for a second, has already started reaching for flour, sugar and the chai tea in her cupboard right in front of her. She can feel his big hands wrap around her from behind, and it makes her smile.

“Yeah, and what is that?” she asks, his beard pressed into her neck, gently kissing her skin.

“Come here.” he mumbles. One second passes and she feels his strong arms on her hips, lifting her up and placing her on the countertop behind her. She can’t help giggle a bit, loves that she’s towering him now. Her hands securely on his shoulders. He’s so strong and it never leaves her unimpressed. His nose touches hers for a second, and the smile on his face warms her heart in an instant.

“Mister, if this is what I think it is, can I remind you…”

“It’s not.” he assures her, kisses her again, can’t help but let out a laugh. She closes her eyes, both her arms wrapped around his neck. She feels herself letting go, a low sigh escaping her mouth. He pulls back after a few seconds, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I wanna spoil you tonight.” he says then, and she smiles, biting her lower lip for a second. He’s so handsome in this moment, and his eyes could move a damn mountain. She can’t unsee these pictures of him as a little boy. He truly, still, is the goofy kid he told her he once was. And god, does she have love for this kid. Does she have love for this man in front of her, his huge hands being so gentle and kind.

“You spoil me every night.” she whispers against his lips, making him laugh a bit.

“I don’t mean that kind of spoiling you.” he says, and she stops for a second.

“Wait, you’re not talking about… sexy time?”

“Sexy time?” he asks her with a laugh, can’t believe this is the way she describes their mindblowing, life-changing sex.

“I mean.. yeah it can be. But, I want to give you a massage. A proper one.”

She can’t believe his words, almost feels insecure for a moment. It’s been a long time since someone she shared a bed with has made this kind of effort for her. She still remembers, early on with Joe, he would do small little things for her. But it was never like this. It was always accidental. Always unplanned, but sweet. But this, right here, with Travis, is different. She can’t believe he’s thought about this. Can’t believe he wants to spend the evening giving her a massage, has actively thought about what she would need right now. It’s a new level of attentiveness she’s foreign to when it comes to relationships.

“Would you.. would you like that?” he asks then, has noticed her getting lost in her own thoughts. Within a second, she’s pulled back to reality and nods. Her mouth forming a smile.

“I would love that. I would absolutely love that. Thanks so much.” she murmurs, comes closer to him again and kisses him gently. He can tell she’s touched by this gesture, but that’s exactly what he wanted to achieve tonight. He wants to make her feel appreciated, respected, loved. He knows that after the past years with her ex, it’s still hard for her to let herself fall, enjoy the moment, let someone else take full control. But she deserves to be spoiled. She deserves to be treated this way. Always.

“Want to eat first? Or..”

She shakes her head, and it makes him laugh. She just presses her face next to his, hugging him like a koala bear. He smiles, can feel her craving his proximity. Within a second, he has lifted her up from the countertop, slowly walking up the stairs with her hugging him this closely. He can hear her giggle into his sweater, carefully closes the door to her bedroom behind them.

“Shall I leave the door open in case the little one wakes up?” he asks, carefully lets her down. She looks up at him smiling, then shakes her head.

“No, all good. I still have the baby monitor app on my phone. If there’s movement in her room, my phone goes off.”

He nods, his hand already on her cheek, stealing her forehead a last kiss before letting go again. She quickly turns on the little light next to her bed, then dims the room by turning off the main light. The mood has shifted, and it’s this romantic, low light she loves so much whenever she gets to be alone with him. This is her safe space. Him in her bedroom. The door closed. The world just staying outside.

“I’ll quickly go pee, okay? Do you.. do you need anything?”

“Bodylotion and a towel.” he says, and she smiles, not moving for a second.

“What?”

Standing in the door to the bathroom, looking at him, she just starts giggling. Her hand in front of her mouth now, the way she always does, whenever she gets shy for a second.

“Nothing. I.. I just can’t believe you’re so serious about giving me a massage.”

“Of course I am.” he says, has already taken off his sweatshirt and throws it over the little chair at the end of her bedroom.

“Do you have a lighter?”

“Yeah, top drawer by my bedside.” she says, can’t believe he’s putting so much effort into this. She just watches him reach for the lighter, then begins putting on the big Loewe candle at the end of her room. She can’t believe he’s got this romantic side to him. A side of him she doesn’t really know that well yet. He suddenly looks at her, a bit confused, not sure what she’s waiting for.

“Go pee, now. Come on.”

“Okay, okay.” she mumbles, laughing to herself and closing the bathroom door gently. A few minutes later, the door opens again and she’s slowly stepping up to him. He has sat down on the side of her bed now, wearing nothing but his sweatpants and some socks. She stops right in front of him, looks around the room. She can’t believe he’s put on the candles.

“Bodylotion?”

“Oh, I forgot.” she mumbles, makes her way back into the bathroom again. When she comes back, she passes him her favorite shea body butter and a large white towel. A little out of place, she just stands there, watches him place the towel on top of her bedding.

“Shall I..”

“Come here, I’ll do that.” he smiles at her, and she trusts him. In her sweatpants and shirt, she crawls onto the bed, lands on her back and giggles as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it over her head. She’s not wearing a bra yet he won’t break eye contact to her. A few seconds pass, and her pants have gone, too. She lays there for a moment, in the dim light, feeling a bit more vulnerable than usually.

“You warm enough?” he asks her, notices immediately that she’s not a hundred percent comfortable. But she nods, just watches him closely. He puts a generous amount of body lotion into his hands, starts warming his hands together.

“Shall I.. shall I take these off?” she asks him with a smirk in her face, and it makes him laugh.

“Yes.”

“Oh, so it’s that kind of a massage?”

“Babe..”

“I’m teasing.” she giggles, gets rid of her thong and turns around. Laying flat on her stomach now, she feels his hands land on her back and it makes her shiver for a second. With her head turned to the side she closes her eyes, feels him fix her hair to the side, to ensure it’s out of the way.

“Do you have a spot that pains you sometimes?” he asks her, almost a whisper. This is their world. Nobody is here to listen in, and she feels herself let go. Feels herself open up.

“Yeah my.. my upper back and neck. I have horrible posture, so..”

Within a second, Travis starts massaging the spot that always hurts her, and she melts into the pillow. She feels goosebumps form all over her body, and she can’t believe he’s so good at doing this. For a moment, she can’t really speak, can’t really think anymore. His warm, soft hands kned over her skin and she feels a deep relaxation take over her.

“Oh my god..” she whispers then, and he smiles, giving his best to help her muscles relax properly.

“Is that okay?” he asks her quietly, his hands moving up and down her back, again and again.

“So good. This is.. so good.” he smiles, continues his work. He takes some more of the body lotion, moves with his hand movements down again to her lower back. He can feel her relax more and more underneath him. With her eyes closed, the talkative woman is suddenly dead quiet.

“Baby?”

He hears her whisper, almost feels like his entire body tingles for a second. She’s never called him that. She’s never called him anything other than the occasional ‘babe’ or ‘Trav’. For a second, he loosens his movements, looks up at her. She hasn’t moved, her eyes are still closed. He’s worried he might have hurt her. A hint of fear coming through.

“You okay?”

“I might fall asleep, is that.. are you mad, if I..”

He laughs gently, keeps on working on her back.

“You can fall asleep if you want to. This is for you to relax, stop worrying about falling asleep.” he says in the calmest way possible. Taylor doesn’t move. She feels herself drift off, can’t believe the amount of work and effort he puts into every single inch of her body. She can still feel him work on her lower back, now slightly moving to her hips. She can feel his talented hands move down every single muscle on her side. Not only are his movements the perfect amount of pressure and ease, but he also seems to have an extensive knowledge about the general muscle allocation. She’s never been massaged by someone she’s intimate with, didn’t know how good it can feel to let go off the tensions she carries in her upper thighs, and even her bottom. She doesn’t move, doesn’t know if she’s asleep yet or if she’s reached a new level of letting go. She can feel him work his way down her legs, massaging out all the tension from tour rehearsals in her calves. It’s the first time that his touch hurts a little, but it gets less and less with every round of kneading from his fingers. With every touch, the tension leaves her body. She lets out a soft sigh when he starts massaging her feet. She knew he’s good at foot massages, but she didn’t know his massaging skills extend to her other muscles, too.

“You still awake?”

“Mhmhm.” she mumbles.

“Can you turn around for me?”

She immediately moves in her bed, looks at the man smiling at her. He can’t help but laugh a little bit. She must have been so comfortable that she didn’t notice the pillow leaving a proper imprint on the right half of her face. She’s too cute. Before reaching for the body lotion again, he can’t help but get closer, steals her warm cheek a soft kiss.

“I’m shocked about how talented you are, mister.” she mumbles then, relaxation in her voice. He smiles, reaches for her left hand, massages her arms up and down. She’s laying fully exposed in front of him. No blanket covering her. And she’s never felt so safe. Never before.

“This is the best massage I’ve ever gotten.” she adds. Her eyes slowly closing. With his left hand he holds her arm upright, kneading all the tensions in her upper arm.

“I’m glad.” he says, fully focused on his work. “I’ve gotten so many massages before that I really picked up where some of the muscles are located, and what type of movements help release tensions.” he explains, slowly lets go off her arm, and Taylor opens her eyes again. She feels his hands full of lotion gently massage her tummy now. Suddenly, her hand reaches for his arm. He looks at her.

“Trav?”

“Mhm?”

“Kiss me.”

He smiles, comes closer to her and steals her lips a gentle kiss. He lets go after a few seconds, keeps on massaging her soft belly. She feels everything in her body tingling for a second, and she knows why. She knew this massage would eventually get to this point, but she didn’t think it would relax her this much. She then feels his hand move up her torso and within a second, her eyes are open. Wide open. He stops then, lowers his head and starts laughing. Within a second, the mood has changed. Drastically.

“I promise this.. this was not a boob grab, I just wanted to massage your cleavage. You do have muscles there. Believe me or not. And..”

She giggles, too, holding onto his strong arm, clearly messing with him.

“Please go ahead, I’m not stopping you.” she says with a giggle, her eyes not leaving his. With his soft hands he wanders up, starts massaging the muscles on the side of her neck. He’s so close to her face now, so close, and his hands keep on making the same moves. She looks deep into his eyes, feels him hit her deep muscle tissue then. She swallows. It hurts. It hurts to feel all the tension leave her body. She closes her eyes.

“You’re so tense here.” he whispers. She nods. He keeps massaging her. “Feels like.. feels like you carried a lot of weight on your chest.”

She has no idea why, but within a second, a tear streams down her face. Travis stops immediately, but her hand reaches for his.

“Please keep.. keep going.” she sniffles. She doesn’t know why she gets so emotional all of the sudden. But whatever he was doing with her body right here, works. She feels all these stuck feelings leaving her body. So many emotions come back up. She’s so tired suddenly. She feels this pain so clearly. But she needs him to keep going. She needs him to knead it out until the very end.

“Is it.. is it getting less?” he asks her, has noticed what she experienced just now. He’s learned from his physiotherapist that especially in the chest area, people tend to hold their tensions. Their grudges. Their undigested feelings. The last thing he wants to do is hurt the woman in front of him. But with every kneading movement of his fingers, he can feel her soften up. She has her eyes closed, nods. He won’t stop. After a few minutes, his movement gets slower. She opens her eyes again, looks into his. Within a second, her hands land in his neck and she pulls him down to her, kisses him gently. Her tears have dried up, and instead, she feels him be as gentle as she can be. And he loves tasting her. He loves how soft she is. Everything about her. A doze of dopamine hitting his system. She lets go off him then, her hands in his neck so that their noses still touch.

“Thank you.” she whispers against his lips. He nods. She doesn’t need to say anything else. Slowly, she reaches for his left hand, not letting her eyes leave his. Within a few seconds, he realizes where her hand has moved. With the most gentle motion, she has placed his hand on the most intimate part of her body. He understands immediately, lowers his face to kiss her neck gently. He’s trying so hard. He’s trying so hard not to let these three words just come bursting out of his mouth in this moment. Her skin is so soft under his lips, her little hands on his scalp, caressing him gently. He can feel her longing for him in between her legs. His fingers gently exploring her body, being as careful as they could be. Within a few seconds, he leaves her neck, looks back into her eyes again. Her lips are a bit swollen from their previous kisses, and there’s a kind of calmness in her eyes he hasn’t seen before.

“You sure?” he asks her again, and she appreciates it so much. Not a single time they’ve slept with each other without Travis asking for her consent beforehand. She appreciates this, appreciates just how much he respects her. She nods, adjusting her head on the pillow. She looks down, so that she can witness his fingers moving gently. She feels her chest rising, enjoys every single one of his hand movements so much. She swallows, her breath a bit shaky now. She can feel him kiss her cheek while his hand keeps up the steady movement. She feels so safe in this moment. She knows she can let go. She knows with him, she’s always safe to let go.

“Fuck..” she mumbles then, a little sigh escaping her mouth then, breaking the silence between them. She’s holding onto his neck with her hand, desperately looking at him.

“Can you..”

Travis immediately looks at her. She is fully focused on his hands, her left hand on his lower arm now, feeling his muscles move while he pleasures her. With the other hand, she’s holding onto the towel underneath her. She struggles to speak right now, but he patiently waits for her to finish her thought. He feels so close to her in this moment. They’ve just reached a new level of intimacy. He can feel it in his bones.

“What..”

“Can you go.. just a bit faster?”

He doesn’t reply to her, just does what she asked him. His circle motions are steady but at a higher speed than before. And she appreciates it. So much. She lets her head fall back into the pillow, the little frown appearing on her face that he knows so well. A frown he only knows when he’s in between her legs. And he loves it so much. With his free hand he begins to caress her naked stomach a bit, her hand reaching for his. She’s close. And he’s ready to be there for her, for every second of it. A last little moan escapes her mouth and it gives him goosebumps. Suddenly, her breathing gets faster and faster and he can hear her whisper his name a few times, with the same high pitched desperate moan that he knows and loves so much. He can feel her ride off her wave of pleasure, tightly holding into his arm, guiding him in his movements. He looks into her face as it happens, and he swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life. For a few seconds, she breathes fast with her mouth open, her body just coming down from this mountain she climbed with him. He knows she’s sensitive now, and he’s as gentle with her as humanly possible. His hand still between her legs, he doesn’t move, gives her the time and space to come back down to planet earth. She opens her eyes again after a few seconds, her cheeks flushed. She just pulls him down to her, kissing him full of giggles and lust. He can feel her hand reach for his boxers. He laughs into the kiss. He knows what she wants, and he would be lying if he said he doesn’t want exactly the same.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” she mumbles in between the shower of kisses she gives him, her hand now fully landing on his naked butt. She smiles into their kiss. The stubble of his beard scratching her face in the best way.

“You’re so welcome.” he whispers back, smiling at her. She loves to feel his naked weight on top of her now. Two noses touching. He looks down for a second, gently guiding himself into her. He watches her face closely, trying to find any trace of discomfort. But there is none. She closes her eyes in pleasure again, and so does he. Paradise. He opens his eyes again, feeling her arms holding onto his. Her frown is back. Paradise. He can feel her move with him, her mouth opened, sweet moans escaping her again. He knows she’s holding back, not forgetting that they’re not alone in this house. But he’s still in paradise.

“Baby..” she cries out then, half a whisper, half a beg, half a moan. He looks at her, his big hand already cupping her face. He kisses her forehead right over her bangs. She’s warm. She’s slowly but surely starting to sweat a little, just like him.

“Can I.. I want to be on top, please. Please.” she mumbles. He immediately stops, lets himself fall next to her in bed. He feels her get up, position herself on top of him. She’s still flushed, yet her eyes barely leave his. He looks up at her, can’t help but feel like he’s dreaming. Her long hair over her naked shoulders. Her hands reaching for his chest to hold herself upright. She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. She begins her movements again, and he helps her. His hands on her hips, his eyes on her face. She’s so beautiful. He can’t help but look at her. Can’t help but stare at her letting go on top of him.

After a few minutes, he feels his vision get blurry. She lets out another moan, a little louder than before. He feels himself come undone, then loves to feel her collapse on his chest. She’s breathing heavy, both of his hands on her bare back, feeling her lungs do the most in this moment. She comes down only slowly. Her skin hot and soft. She doesn’t move, just relaxes slowly. And he loves every minute of it. He loves feeling her get heavier and heavier on him. His hands stroking her back up and down, making her feel just as loved as before they had sex. A few seconds later, she looks back up at him, a smile on her face. He smiles back at her, both his hands cupping her face now, kissing her gently. This time, there’s no lust in his kisses no more. There’s just love. A lot of love.

She quickly moves on his torso and lets herself fall next to him. She stares at the ceiling for a second, then turns her head back to him. He’s moved to his side, just so he can see her better. His hand on her stomach again. He loves being so close to her. There’s nothing better than being so close to her. His fingers drawing circles on her skin.

“That escalated quickly.” she mumbles. He laughs, stealing her temple a soft kiss.

“Thanks for your.. for your incredible massage. Also for.. the other part after.” she says, grinning at him as goofy as a teenager who just had sex for the first time. It makes him laugh.

“I don’t think my body has ever felt so relaxed, Trav.” she whispers. His lips still on her temple. He smiles, as she looks back at him. There’s a sparkle in her eyes, he hasn’t noticed before. It must be the afterglow that people always speak about.

“You’re very welcome. Glad you liked it.”

“I didn’t just like it. Trav, that was.. electric. Literally electric.”

He smiles at her using his own words. She lets their noses touch once, has now moved to the side to be face to face, and eye to eye with him.

“Thank you so much.” she says again. He doesn’t really react, just places his hand on her cheek. There’s so much love in his eyes in this moment. He doesn’t need to say anything. His eyes just say it all.

“You cold?”

“A little.”

He starts moving, for the first time since minutes and helps her crawl underneath the big blanket just under them. She adjusts a little, then cuddles herself fully under the covers. Her hands looking for him. She moves again, until she’s finally fully embraced in his arms. He kisses her head, makes sure she’s covered by the blanket. Silence takes over, and he allows himself to close his eyes for a minute.

“Trav?”

“Mhm?

“Can we try this?”

“Try what?”

“Us.”

For a second, he can’t dare believe his ears. His eyes open, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know if she just meant what she said, but she said it. Taylor moves again, turns around to be able to face him. She’s worried suddenly that she’s said too much. She’s worried that his silence is something other than utter surprise. He looks at her in shock. Within a second, she feels a tummy ache flaring up inside of her.

“Do you.. can you please say something?” she mumbles and he takes a breath, slowly sits up. She’s worried now. She’s never witnessed him this freaked out. She knew it was too soon. But she can take it back. Thank god she didn’t fully speak it out yet. She can fix this. She looks at him leaning against her bed rest. She carefully sits up as well, holding the blanket close to her naked body.

“I’m so sorry for.. just.. not finding the right words, Tay.” he says finally, and she nods “No worries, I mean I know I..”

“My answer is yes. But I need you to know what I’m in for.” he interrupts her and she’s shocked for a moment. She looks at him, feels her hands shaking suddenly. She doesn’t feel relaxed anymore, at all. What bomb did she just set off? She can feel him get nervous as well. It’s been a while since he was acting like this around her.

“I.. I don’t want us to just be another fling. I..” he stops, gathering his words, “I know this is not the most romantic way to do this, but if we try this, if we.. if we try being something serious. Like.. as serious as a relationship. Then.. then I want you to know that I’m in it for the long run.” he looks into her eyes, fully aware that this could scare her off for good. But he needs to honor himself. He needs to be straight with her, or else this won’t have a chance of working out.

“I’m not in this, if.. if you want a little distraction. Or a little fun. I want a partnership. I want to have a family eventually. And of course, we.. we have a long way to go. To see if we fit. To see if this can work. But I just want you to know that if we try this, then.. then this is my intention.”

Travis takes a deep breath after finishing his little speech. He can’t dare look at her again, but he’s proud of himself for having said it. Suddenly, he feels her hands reach for his. He looks back into her eyes, and she smiles. A little tear in her eyes. He can see that clearly.

“Okay.” she whispers. He swallows, not sure how to react. All he feels is her small hand caressing his.

“Okay?”

She nods, a smile on her lips.

“I want the same thing. With you. But.. I’m just.. I just hope you know what you are in for. With all this attention. I will be on tour soon, Trav. If you think this is bad, the security and the.. the staying hidden, then you have no idea what you’re in for in the next months. My life is crazy. My life is.. fully out of control. But it’s my life. And I have lost years of my life hiding for someone else who couldn’t handle the pressure. And.. and I can’t do that no more. I’m all in, but I just hope you know what that means for you.”

He looks at her, a big smile on his face. All the worries from before are gone. He nods.

“Tay?”

She looks at him, worry in her face. She knows his smile can’t really mean that he changed his mind after her little speech. But she is in fact worried that he will regret this. That he will ask her for more time to think about this. About what it means to be in a relationship with her.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What?” she says, her hand still holding his. She looks at the man in her bed. His naked torso leaned against her bed rest, his smile all over his face as he looks at her. She feels calm just looking at him smile like this, but there’s still a part of her that is full of anxiety right now.

“I.. I think I’m really really really in love with you. Like… so much, it’s not even funny.”

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him for a moment.

“Is that okay? I feel like.. maybe this is a good time to tell you. I will let you know if I can’t handle your life, I promise. But I need you to know that I’m ridiculously in love with you. And.. and it would make me the happiest person on this planet to call you my girlfriend.”

Travis finishes his sentence. She doesn’t say anything, just sits up a bit, both of her hands touching his cheeks. She presses her forehead against his, then leans in and kisses him. It’s a different type of kiss. She’s emotional. His hands land on her bare back again.

“I love you, too.” she whispers then, closes her eyes and lets him kiss her bangs gently.

“So much.”

___

“You sure this is a good idea?”

He asks again, sitting on the bed and looking at her. He’s wearing a pair of his Nike sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He watches her finish her make up in the mirror by her bedroom. She looks incredible, just like every day. A pair of blue boyfriend jeans covering her small frame, a grey longsleeve shirt on top and her black adidas shoes covering her feet. He loves to watch her get ready in the morning. He doesn’t know why, but it’s just another way of spending time with her. Witnessing her every move, every mundane thing she does in the morning, getting to know her even better.

“Of course it is.” she says again, for the fifth time today, turning around to look at him with a smirk. He laughs too, now, knowing he acts absolutely ridiculous. After all, it’s her dad. She loves her dad. And he’s always been popular with his ex- girlfriend’s fathers. No need to act like a little boy now, Travis.

“Listen, my parents are.. very much open to the idea of me dating again. I know they want me to be happy. And.. trust me, it’ll be fine.”

He nods, watches her walk towards him. She stops standing right in front of him. He presses his face into her shirt, right above her stomach, giving her a few nervous kisses.

“Also, I can’t stand the thought of you flying out today. So we definitely need to have a nice lunch altogether before you leave.” she mumbles into his head, kissing his head once.

He looks back up at her and smiles. He can’t believe he’s flying out to Kansas City again. He can’t believe he’s spent five extra days in this city. Unplanned. The most incredible, beautiful, five days with this woman. Not a single chance, he could ever forget these days in his lifetime.

“I’ll miss you, sweetie.” he mumbles. She nods, and he can see in her face that it worries her. She doesn’t want to leave their bubble. And neither does he.

“I’ll miss you, too.” she says, “But it’s just one week.”

He nods. They can do one week. They’ll be fine.

“Travy, look. I did this for you!”

Taylor quickly lets go off Travis, hears her daughter run into her mother’s bedroom. A pencil and a piece of paper in her small hands. Taylor and Travis decided to let some time pass before explaining to Eleanor where they both stand, with each other, in their relationship. She won’t ever fully introduce someone into her life, unless it’s as serious as it could get. And they’ve got time. They’ve got all the time in the world for this big move.

“What? For me?” Travis looks at the little painting she made him. He’s in true disbelief. Eleanor smiles proudly at her mommy, gets all shy and nods then.

“This is Olivia and Benjamin and Chauncy and Rambo.”

Taylor can’t help but laugh a little, looks from Travis back to Eleanor. Her hands land on the little curlyhead. All it took was for Travis to show Eleanor a few pictures and videos of his dogs, and the little girl fell in love. Taylor knows how much she adores animals. Of course, she would fall in love with his doggs in a minute - even without having met them yet.

“Oh my goodness. Eleanor. This is.. this is beautiful.” he says, completely serious, looking into the little girl’s proud face.

“Wow, you’re so talented.” he says,pokes her tummy once and she giggles.

“Can I get a hug?” he asks, and Eleanor falls into the big man’s arms. For a moment, Taylor stands there and feels herself get emotional. She knows this little girl hasn’t had a steady male figure in her life, besides her grandfather and her uncle, for almost a year now. Ever since her separation from Joe, Eleanor has seen her father twice. Phone calls that were promised got less and less. And Taylor could feel Joe not just forget about her, but also his daughter. He’s left her. She can barely let these thoughts enter her mind, but sometimes, they just come creeping back up. She knows that Eleanor knows exactly that her father hasn’t called in months. And Taylor knows that maybe, just maybe, this is why she’s so crazy about Travis. And how can she not be? He’s tall, he’s funny, he makes her laugh and he’s so kind and gentle to her.

“Thanks so much, girly. I’m honored. This is beautiful. I will hang this one up in my house.” Travis says to Eleanor. Taylor notices Eleanor’s hand landing on Travis’s.

“And I promise you, soon you will meet Rambo and Chauncey. I promise. And I’ll send mommy some videos tonight.” he says, making Eleanor jump up and down a few times. Taylor loves seeing her so excited. She loves this relationship that’s slowly forming between Travis and her. But then again, the more she feels these two connecting, the more she feels herself growing anxious. A deep wave of anxiety, worry, almost panic arising in her chest.

If this won’t work out, then Travis will break two hearts.

Not just one.

___

“Grandpa!”

Travis hears Eleanor screaming while running towards the elevator door of the townhouse. He just stands there in the kitchen, taking a deep breath, which he hopes will remain unnoticed. Taylor already laughed at him taking off his earrings before. But he wants to be as presentable as possible for her dad. After all, he’s the man who entered his daughter’s and granddaughter’s life. He wants him to have a good first impression. Whatever that means. Travis slowly makes his way to the door, watches Eleanor jump onto Scott’s arm. The older man laughs a few times, already listening to Eleanor tell him all about her new school. Taylor just looks back to Travis, rolling her eyes at her daughter. He laughs. Eleanor is a very talkative little girl. He absolutely adores it about her.

“Hi, honey.” Scott says then, hugging his daughter. Travis immediately feels the man’s eyes on him. He smiles at him, not sure how to act. He takes a step closer to him, opening his arms. Immediately, he realizes that Scott gives him a hand shake instead. Slightly embarrassed, he shakes his hand, tries to hide the fact that he expected the welcome to be a bit warmer, instead.

“Hi, Mr. Swift. It’s so good to meet you. Taylor told me so much about you.”

Scott smiles, barely, and nods.

“Nice to meet you.”

Taylor watches the interaction, and gets a little confused. Her father is usually the warmest person she knows, has never not opened his arms for any of Taylor’s friends, or even her crappy ex-boyfriends. She’s not used to her dad being this cold, especially towards someone as open and as warm as Travis. Her parents have always taught her to keep warm people close. And Travis is one of these people.

Taylor doesn’t say anything, just places her arm on Travis’s shoulder. It’s a small gesture but he knows its her way of assuring him.

“So glad you get to meet Travis, dad.” she mumbles, but Scott doesn’t really react, is suddenly extremely busy hanging up his jacket next to the door.

“Alright, shall we have lunch?” she says then, hoping the mood in the room gets lighter soon. She feels incredibly insecure suddenly. But she hopes Travis won’t feel any of this. He doesn’t deserve to not feel welcomed. After all, he’s been the most incredible person in her life for these past months.

“Sounds good.” Scott says, placing his bag in the dining room.

“Grandpa, can we watch a movie together?” Eleanor asks her grandfather, already holding his hand again. Scott smiles at her, his hand protectively on her little head.

“Sweetheart, your mommy and I have a few work meetings after lunch. But tonight, we can watch a movie together. How about that?”

Eleanor nods, seems to not be very happy about his answer.

“Should I.. do you need any help in the kitchen?” Travis asks Taylor. She looks at him, and immediately feels his tension. She hates it.

“Actually, why don’t you and dad just sit down, and Eleanor and me we can get lunch ready huh?”

Her hand lands on Travis’s back. He gives her that one look that always makes her laugh. But she knows this is good. As soon as her dad and him talk for a bit, the tensions in this penthouse will disappear and her dad will absolutely love him. Just like everyone else in her life so far.

“So, Scott. I heard you were also big on football during high school?” Travis asks, sitting down right in front of him at the dining table. Scott looks at him, no smile in sight. He nods.

“Yup, I was a running back for five years.”

“Oh wow.” Travis laughs, obviously relieved that the two have found a topic to discuss. “That’s awesome. Did you ever think about doing it professionally?”

“I was a Finance major. So football was obviously just a hobby. Nothing more.”

“Yeah, I get it. For me, was quite the opposite. Sports was always the only thing I was good at, so..”

Scott doesn’t react. Silence. Travis looks up at him, has run out of things to say. Her dad clearly isn’t interested in a conversation with him. Instead, the seventy year-old man picks up Eleanor, helping her crawl onto the chair next to him. She shows him her little photo book that her mother has crafted with her, and filled with polaroids of herself and her three cats. Travis watches Scott smile at Eleanor. The shift in his mood couldn’t be more obvious. He’s completely in awe with his granddaughter, as he should be. And he couldn’t be less interested in getting to know him. Travis swallows, feels Taylor’s hand on his back. He can see in her face that she feels the same as him, pretends to put on a smile for him. But he can see right through her. There’s no denying that the mood is off.

“What do you guys want to drink? Water? Sparkling water? Soda?”

“I’ll just get a water. Thanks, honey.” Scott says.

“Coke for you, babe?” she asks Travis. Her hand gently caressing his cheek over his beard.

“I’ll just.. get a water. Thanks, babe.”

She doesn’t say anything, and Travis wasn’t the only one feeling her father’s eyes on him. Taylor walks back into the kitchen, feels herself slowly get angry. She doesn’t know what has gotten into her dad. But she really hopes he gets it together, soon.

“Do you usually just drink sodas for lunch, Travis?”

Taylor places the waterbottle on the countertop with a bang. She’s getting mad, now. One more word and she’s going to loose her patience. Travis has been nothing but kind and polite. Yet her father treats him like a criminal.

“Well, I train a lot. So I need to get my calories in somehow. I try to stick to diet drinks, but.. well sometimes an ice cold coke is just.. refreshing.” he laughs, a little insecure as he doesn’t get a nod back.

“Sodas are the number one reason for type one diabetes in our country. And that goes especially for children, Travis. I always tell Taylor it’s probably safer to have pesticides in the house than to give Eleanor any of these sugar drinks.”

Travis doesn’t say anything, just nods. He asks himself if he was irresponsible these past days. After all, he did drink coke in front of Eleanor and even let her try once when Taylor allowed him to. He gets quiet, understands that there’s no arguing with her dad in this. After all, he’s right.

“Too bad, because all this little girl drinks is coke and fanta and sprite. Oh, and sometimes before bed I add some sugar to her coke. Just makes her more sleepy, I find. The good old sugar crash just does the job.” Taylor says, a hint of anger in her voice. She places the food and water she just brought on top of the hardwood table. Scott just shakes his head, his hand still protectively on Eleanor’s little head.

“Not funny, Taylor.”

“Dad, come on. As if you never drink coke for lunch.”

“Well, I certainly don’t after having cancer.”

“Here goes the good vibes.” Taylor says, angry, looking at Travis. He doesn’t say anything, and she feels horrible for him. Under the table, she reaches for his hand, squeezes it a few times.

“Eat up, guys.” she says then, encouraging the two men to start eating. Eleanor reaches for her glass of water, and starts chugging it down. It gets quiet. Horribly quiet. Travis doesn’t speak, and neither does Scott.

“Grandpa.” Eleanor says, and Taylor has to smirk. Of course her bubbly five-year old would kill these weird vibes today.

“Yes, honey.” Scott says.

“Look at my bracelets.” she says, proudly, showing her grandfather her arm full of friendship bracelets.��

“Oh, beauiful. Did you make that all by yourself?”

“Yes, with my friend Emily.”

“That’s awesome.”

“And this one I made with Travy yesterday.” she says proudly, smiling at Travis. He smiles back at her, his head tilting slightly to the side. He always does that whenever Eleanor looks at him with her little eyes. Taylor witnesses the interaction with a smile.

“Travy?”

“Yeah, she… well, my nieces always call me Travy so I told Eleanor she can call me..”

“Taylor. Can I speak with you outside for a second.”

Taylor swallows. For a moment, the entire demeanor around this table has shifted, once again. Travis knows exactly what this is about. He feels guilty all of the sudden. Guilty for having entered Taylor’s life. Guilty for getting closer to Eleanor. He can feel Taylor get more tense. The two adults get up, leave the room to take the stairs up to the rooftop patio. He swallows. He’s definitely lost his appetite now. He just sits there, leans back. A door is closing. Loudly. And then all he hears is yelling. Scott yelling, then Taylor. Then Scott. Then Taylor interrupting him yelling some more. He’s so glad he can’t hear just every word he says. But he knows what this is about. And hearing Taylor yell like this is not something he’s ever witnessed before.

“Travy..” Eleanor mumbles then, looks at Travis confused.

“Is mommy fighting with grandpa?” she asks him, has also put down her fork. He can see in her little blue eyes that she’s worried. And Travis feels even worse. He swallows, takes a deep breath, then sighs.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Eleanor nods.

“I don’t like it when mommy is mad. Because.. because sometimes, she gets sad, too.”

“Yeah, I also hated when my mommy was sad.”

Eleanor nods.

“Maybe grandpa didn’t like my bracelets.” she says then. Travis can’t help but smile suddenly. He can’t believe this beautiful little girl thinks anything she ever did is the reason her mom and grandpa are fighting.

“Hey, give me your hand, girly.” he says then, gently. Eleanor looks at him, and Travis reaches for her small hand on top of the table.

“Listen to me.” he mumbles, “your grandpa absolutely loves your bracelets. Trust me.”

Eleanor nods slowly. He caresses her tiny hand for a second, so long, until Eleanor seems to be lighting up again.

“Travy.”

“Yeah?”

“Promise to send mommy the video of Chauncey and Rambo, okay?”

He smiles gently, then nods.

“I promise.”

#taylor swift #taylor swift fanfiction #travis kelce #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce fanfic #smut #fluffy #fanfic #fanfiction #citybound #lovebound

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dollya-robinprotector · 7 months

Text

FINALLY! DOLLYA CONCEPT

I'll have a little look back and remember how I came up with this current Sona design. The me of 2021 definitely would look at this and go "WTF???". When I search and place old drawings side by side for comparison, It's really been a process of changing my perspective on myself and constantly finding what I want.

It'll be very random and full of my old drawings, so if you don't mind a little rambling, welcome to go under the cut and go back in time with me!

Let's start with this design. As you can clearly see it was based on how I actually look irl, from the outfit, hairstyle to make-up.

Tbf this was not my first attempt to create a Sona, but it was a huge milestone because it's 2018, the year I got into my dream Art university and left home. My style completely changed, and this Sona showed it perfectly.

I drew this with my fingers, on my broken phone, to enter a Vietnamese clothes design competition, where we modernized some traditional clothes. What I did here is a modernized Nhật Bình. I won and got my design made into real clothes and sent to me. I'm still proud of it to this day XD

It was fun! I draw her almost daily, like how I do with Lya and Lyah in this blog. I used her to make friends with other artists. I even created a gender-bent version for her : D

But the uni life was stressful, especially when I entered my third year and tried to escape my parents' grasp. They were furious and threatened me, I started working extra and do commission to pay for my own living and rent, lessons were hard, and homework and projects were pilling,... As a result, I often use my sona to stress draw.

It didn't help much, my anxieties and insecurities kept adding to the molten fire inside me, and my overthinking got worse day by day.

But then at some point, I decided to separate myself from that sona. She turned into one of my many OCs, maybe more special but I no longer see my entire self in her anymore.

I have to thank my two besties for that. They pulled me out of my darkest moments and stayed with me. They remain to be my only two most important people in this whole world.

I started to "reuse" the sona appearance into creating many other OCs for many other fandoms I joined (Cookierun, HnK, FGO, KnY, Genshin,...). I had fun jumping between different styles lol.

The idea for the current design started to take shape when one day I drew her wearing a white delicate dress (I usually just do red) and a see-through sleep dress I just bought.

Something started clicking.

Then I became an assistant for an Ero Artist. Yup. I started to be exposed to more "sexy" character designs and tbh I just love those. I love drawing female characters already, but there's something something about cute and sexy girls in lingerie... If you know what I mean.

The design slowly became clearer. Cute and pristine-white, see-through lingerie, with little four petals flowers, and little bows, perfect.

The details still varied. They depended on the style I was using or my mood, whether I wanted to go into details or not. That's the fun of drawing your own design, let's keep it.

And here we are~ Maybe it's still not final, but I'm happy with it, and that's enough for me now!

If you've been reading this far, thank you and congratulations! I will send you a kiss and wish you a good day~~ Hope you're having fun scrolling on my blog~

#Dollya concept #dollya art #Just Dollya herself #cw self destruction #cw self doubt #cw self loathing #cw self deprecation #concept art #character concept #all in all this is a fun journey

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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months

Note

Can I get a Derek Danforth x shorter Male Reader where reader is like the only person Derek cares about. Reader is very cuddly but Derek isn’t big on PDA but when they are alone Derek loves holding the reader in his arms.

If not it’s ok!

OFC YOU CAN!!!

I had like fifteen different drafts for how this story could go and I couldn't make up my mind until literally last night, thus why it took so long. I hope this is okay!!!

Tangled

Derek Danforth x Male! Reader

Summery: The holidays are a miserable time of year, especially when ones mother won't even talk to them to let them know she's not coming, sending Derek into a breakdown and wrapping you up in the process.

Tags: No use of Y/N, short! Reader, hurt/comfort, mommy issues, drug use (marijuana), arguing, breakdown, banter, comedy, injury, eventual fluff, holiday fic. (I don't give a fuck that it's Febuary, shut it.)

Notes: honestly I was HYPED when I saw this request. I fucken GOT YOU babe and I am so sorry it took this long. I hope this was worth the wait <3

•°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•

I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to be honest; who likes the holidays?

The decorations are nice. The food's better. But in the matter of family and visitation, could anyone honestly say they liked the whole routine? Picking who to see, booking flights, trying not to lose yourself in a bottle of liquor that you bought on the way to their house.

Maybe not every detail is the same, but you get the general idea.

"Please sit down," I begged Derek, watching him pace the floor. All week Derek had been in a mood, which isn't totally uncommon I will admit. But usually he could be coaxed out of it, sweet words whispered in his ear finally bringing him off whatever edge he was ready to fling off of and convince him death was for another day. This week however was different, Derek always tapping his foot, glaring at something. And pacing. Neverending, always thinking, lasts through the night pacing. I was beginning to feel sick from the anxiety, and my mood was making Derek even shorter in his.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"You're clearly not," I said. In his hand he gripped his pen, clicking it to life with five rapid clicks before taking a long pull like he couldn't breathe without it. "Derek."

"I said I'm fucking fine."

"I have never seen you as more of a mess, will you please just sit down for one moment?" I pleaded, shifting closer to the edge of the plush loveseat kept in front of our bed. "I'm worried about you."

He wants to snap. His jaw is tight, teeth gritted as he spins on the heel of his black, pointed boot, mouth opening as he begins to point one finger at me. But the minute he actually makes eye contact the edge drains, his shoulders sagging slightly as he exhales his smoke, bags appearing under his eyes. Derek had a reputation for being a hard-ass, but when we were alone and I grabbed his attention, his demeanor would shift into one more gentle, more honest. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he finally crossed over to me, sitting beside me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, tucking my head under his chin. His hand strokes up and down my back, his heart still pounding but beginning to calm as the smoke begins to work into his bloodstream, allowing him to focus on me more than his thoughts. His cologne compliments mine, smelling mostly of cinnamon to match the winter season. The silk material of his red shirt is soothing against my skin, little silver snowflakes decorating it. Always a pattern with him.

"Is it your mother?" I asked quietly. He stiffened, his heart rate picking back up against my ear.

"I don't want to talk about this," he said quickly, beginning to pull away. I gently grab his arms, making him look down at me before he can close off once more.

"We've been together for almost a year and you won't say anything about your-"

"I said I don't want to talk about this."

"We have to talk about this at some point or you're going to have a giant fit and I won't be able to help you."

It isn't meant as an insult, but I hear it as soon as the words come out. Derek's eyes narrow into slits, bitterness seeping through.

"Fuck you. I don't throw fucking fits." He pulled away quickly, the battery of his pen glowing as he took another hit, long and deep, blinking rapidly to show he's hit his limit.

"You are on the cusp of one right now. You're in denial," I said concerningly.

This time he really is about to snap when someone knocks on the door, popping her head in to announce dinner will be ready shortly.

"Is she on her way?" Derek asked the redheaded assistant, blowing his smoke out through his nose, hands on his cocked hips. The woman presses her lips together tightly, glancing between the two of us before speaking.

"I haven't heard anything from President Danforth for a few hours, sir," she finally said. Derek sighed deeply, looking down and pinching the bridge of his straight nose as he taps his foot at impressive speed.

"Thank you," he said quickly, not meeting anyone's eyes. She takes the opportunity, quickly nodding at me and ducking out of the room with the quick click of the door, leaving us alone again.

I simply stare at him, hands folded on top of my lap as I wait for him to say something, do something. When he goes to take a third blinker, I finally stand.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," Derek warns me, holding out his palm.

"You are going to get stoned to the point that you'll fuck up this dinner the you have been worried over for the past week. What the fuck is wrong with you?" I hiss, stepping closer.

"There's no fuckin' point, she's not coming," he said, shrugging harshly and scoffing.

"And that bothers you. Will you just admit that?" I said. I step closer, close enough to reach for the pen, but I wait, letting him narrow his glazing eyes at me first.

"What is your obsession? You want me to break down? Cry? You wanna fix me, huh?" His tone is harsh, paranoia settling in as he takes a step towards me. "Whatever savior shit this is, I'm not taking."

I snatch the pen quickly from his grasp, only to have his hand grab my wrist without any real thought. Derek towers over me, gripping me tightly enough it hurts.

"Drop it," he growled.

"No," I growled back.

"I'm not asking."

"Tough shit."

"What is your-"

"Derek." The snap does something, my voice bouncing around in his ears as he glares at me, but releases my wrist nonetheless. I step away quickly, tucking the pen into the inside pocket of my evergreen blazer. "You'll get this back tonight," I tell him, not looking back. Derek mutters under his breath, brushing past me to exit the suite. Fine. Let him hate me. See if I care.

Derek never liked public affection in the first place. Growing up in a house with a politician for a mother he was hyperaware of all the right and wrongs to a public reputation. I think he also just had no desire to be seen as any kind of vulnerable in a crowd. But tonight it's different. Tonight there is a tinge of hate with the distance he creates, and my side feels cold without him. With each step forward he takes five back. People filter in and out of each room, some I'm sure just here with a friend of a friend for the free food. But if there's anyone I never see through the passing hours, it's Derek's mother. I can see him checking his phone every five, three, then every other minute.

It was a touchy subject. Derek loved his mother, adored the ground she walked on. And when she would visit him or welcome us over to wherever it was she was staying it was obvious she loved him too, allowing him to get away with things most mothers wouldn't. But her head was always in work, her eyes always scanning a document with a pen in her hand to sign off on anything at any given moment. There were times we'd spend the visit gathered in silence lest she retreat to an actual study, claiming she could not focus with our chatter. Derek loved his mother, but it was obvious he was neglected by her too.

He'd been planning the party meticulously. Ordering dozens of sample just for garland, asking my input on plates. Yes, Derek was known for throwing elaborate and wonderfully tasteful parties, but if he thought his mother would be in attendance he would go the extra mile, not sparing an inch of detail and making sure that it was so perfect she'd have no choice but to attend.

Problem is, Madame President has many choices for her perfect Christmas party.

It isn't until the clock strikes ten and security begins to push people out that he finally locks eyes with me, the hate draining and giving way to the exhaustion underneath. He disappears through a doorway, and I follow after him, watching his snow white suit that matches my shirt perfectly work its way quickly through the endless halls as I chase him down the rabbit hole. Oh yes, don't think I escaped his scrutiny just because I'm a living being. I didn't even know we'd have complimenting outfits until I stepped out of the shower that morning while he worked on a cigarette, waving it around between his fingers on one hand with the hangers in the other and a phone pressed between his shoulder as he shouted something in Spanish at the poor assistant on the other line.

He doesn't bother shutting the bedroom door behind him whether he knows I'm following him or not. But when I gently push the door shut behind me, finally turning away from him, I feel his warm body press against mine from behind. His arms wrap around me, one around my waist and the other around my shoulders, alcohol thick on his breath as he buries his head into the crook of my neck. His hand finds my hair, burying his long fingers in it as he takes a deep inhale of the pine scented cologne dabbled on my neck. His body is heavy against mine, swaying slightly from exhaustion.

"Hi," he says softly.

"Hi," I say just as soft, reaching up to find his curls. I smile slightly at the feeling of his fried ends, tainted from overprocessing. "You wanna talk?"

"No," he maintained. But his voice cracks, and the collar my shirt is starting to feel wet. Not to mention his arms are shaking.

"You wanna not talk on the bed?" I ask him.

"I'm fine right here," he says in a broken voice. But when he softly sniffles and takes a tiny gasp for air, he's finally done in and dragging me towards the oversized bed, not bothering to actually open the canopy as he flops himself down onto the lush, green and gold duvet.

"It's fine, I'm fine," he insists even though he's dragged half of a gold chiffon curtain down and around him and he's too high to figure out how to get it off. "She has meetings, this happens."

"Yeah, well. It happens a little too often," I say gently, trying to help him before he gets this thing wrapped around his neck. In his vulnerable and understandable fit he's making this curtain situation much worse, actively reweaving whatever I untangle from him in his blind confusion.

"I mean, I get it. Running the country, having a conversation with your own son, it's fine," Derek hiccuped as he gestures his hands like scales weighing the options, one drastically higher than the other. His face is as red as his shirt, large tears streaming down his face as he paws uselessly at the fabric. He swipes frantically at them, clearly becoming frustrated at being unable to control his raw emotions. "I mean, priorities shift so what the fuck am I complaining about?"

"Honey, I think you're sitting on it."

"What?"

"The curtain."

Derek moans inconsolably as he throws himself against the bed, taking down the rest of the gold chiffon and covering us both in the material.

"What does it matter?" Derek cries pathetically. "I could hang myself with this and she'd have a fucking meeting in Germany!"

"Your mother would come to your funeral," I say softly, stroking his hair as I press my lips together, letting him heave out his sobs. He brings a bundle of the fabric to his face, bunching it up and sobbing into it before raising his head once more for another comment.

"Probably have a flood in Uganda day of. I'd fuck up my own suicide day," he snaps to no one in particular.

"No you wouldn't," I say, continuing to run my hand through his hair. Derek sinks into the golden bundle once more, curling in on himself like a child. Then suddenly his eyes grow cold again.

"And the fucking appetizers were cold!"

The comment is so out of left field that a short laugh escapes me, my hand immediately covering my mouth. I instantly feel awful, looking away as I try to compose myself from the dramatic change in complaint.

"Don't laugh at me," Derek snaps. "I paid good money for those."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, that was just a bit random. Would you like to get off of the curtains you also paid for?" I ask him softly, fighting the fit of giggles his hateful eyes inspire to continue. I try to wrap my arms around him in comfort but he moves away in irritation. Or tries. This curtain is keeping us pretty close, which only adds to the whole thing.

"No," he says as he finally gives up. He crosses his arms in irritation and huffs, but after a long moment and a glance at my bemused face he moves to get the curtain off of his own. "Yes. Get this off of me!"

"Okay, I'm coming."

"Where the fuck is the end?"

"I told you, I think you're sitting on it."

"Your mother is sitting on it!"

"Let's not bring anymore mothers into this-"

We struggle in the cocoon of chiffon, twisting and turning in the same and opposite directions, both of us bickering over who has what and who's preventing our freedom.

"This shouldn't be fucking hard!"

"Quit moving, you're making it worse."

"Fuck you!"

"Hang on, I think I-"

With a forceful tug I pull the end out from underneath of Derek. Unfortunately, Derek had shifted himself to move off of the end at the same time, leaving me to fling off the side of the tall bed and hit the lush rug underneath that hardly cushions the oak floor with a loud 'thud' that makes the artifical blond gasp.

"Fuck! Are you okay-?"

Derek scrambles to the edge to look down at me, but he's too high to realize he's overshot his position and sends his larger body crashing on top of mine, making me cry out as I break his fall.

"Eat a salad," I groan, curling in on myself as I try to catch my breath.

"I did, that's why I'm the tall one." Derek and I are once again tangled in the curtain, laying on the floor in a pile of limbs and half of Derek's face is burned from the rug. "Are you okay?" He asks worriedly, looking over my body for obvious injury.

"Have roses at my funeral," I cough, clutching my stomach.

"Rose's are cliché."

"Rose's are fucking iconic."

"If you have basic taste, then yes."

"I don't mix snake and cheeta."

"It's French."

"Then get fucking cheeta print rose's."

"Don't be hysterical."

I shoot him a look and finally he manages a laugh, wiping at his nose with the cuff of his blazer and smiling.

"Maybe I'm a little hysterical," he offers.

"I think I have a concussion."

"Oh, you don't have a concussion," Derek says dismissively. He cups my cheeks gently, his soft hands forcing my eyelids open wide as he checks my eyes. "Oh, fuck. Yeah, you have a concussion."

I laugh, pulling him close and keeping my eyes closed to keep from getting sick.

"Mister 'I Don't Throw Fits,'" I tease.

"I can just not take you to the hospital."

"Bitch."

"Cunt."

"Dickhead."

"Fuckface."

"Fashionably handicapped."

"Poor."

Derek finally figures out how to free us from our prison, pulling away the fabric and looking down at me from above with a gentle smile on his tear stained face. "You've got good bone structure, though," he says.

"It's my daddy's," I tell him.

"I don't remember buying you that."

I smack Derek's chest playfully, groaning as I try (and fail) to sit up. "You're awful."

"You love me," Derek says softly, sitting beside me. The statement is true and meant as a playful reminder, but it's the way his bloodshot eyes still glisten with leftover moisture that makes me cup his face. Or try. I can't see.

"I love you," I say softly.

"That's my chest."

My hand moves.

"Knee."

My hand moves again.

"That's my dick."

"Jolly good friend," I say with a squeeze and overexaggerated British accent. This knocks the last bit of sorrow out of Derek, making him laugh loudly as he finally lays down beside me. He wraps his arms around my smaller frame, pulling me close to him as he presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

"I'm sorry,' he says softly.

"We really do need to talk about your mother at some point," I tell him, stroking his arm that lays across my chest.

"I know." Derek's voice is soft, his fingers playing with one of the buttons on my blazer.

The silence is sweet, the sound of Derek and I's breathing the only sound in the room. And the slight ringing in my head.

"I think you need to call someone," I tell him.

"My problems aren't that bad," Derek says in a hurt voice, moving to look down at me.

"For me."

"Oh!"

▪︎《•☆•》▪︎

I'm going to be so fr, I haven't watched 'The Beekeeper' since it was in theaters so if the mommy issues are inaccurate that's on me. But y'know what it works better for his character so it's °~*accurate to meee*~°

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@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

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#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson the beekeeper #the beekeeper #the beekeeper fanfic #derek danforth beekeeper #derek danforth x you #derek danforth #derek danforth smut #derek danforth x reader #derek the beekeeper #derek danforth imagine #derek danforth x male reader #derek danforth fanfiction #jhutch #josh hutcherson fluff

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harrysmimi · 1 year

Text

Little Lad

Synopsis: One where Harry has to take care of his baby on his own for the first time

More of my work

Little Emir was just nine months old and already a big mama's boy.

Harry was very jealous of that really, both ways, that little stole away his wife, and he clearly loves his mum more. But he also cherishes that, seeing his bany have such and amazing relationship with his Mummy already.

YN owned one of the most busy and known Bakery Cafe in the city, which meant her being busy with work most of the time though she still made time for her family. She had a last minute client come in with a huge wedding cake request, which her and her team of course did not deny. But that meant she sad to spend all night at bakery to het the order ready. His anxiety started to settle in when she called in after lunch to tell him she will home very late.

Harry can get through this, right?

He have been on a break since he wife was eight months pregnant. He has been there tending to his little lad along with bis wife. But god did he not except for a full breakdown from his nine month old boy.

All day Harry spent his time, cleaning up after the little boy. It seemed this much when he'd gotten so used to help of his wife. The laundry was a hassle. Washing up the poopy diaper and tiny clothes without anyone by his side.

He had Emir sat by the side on a little blanket with his toys to keep him busy as he did the laundry and dishes for the day. Hearing his little baby talk.

"What are you doing?" He asked, watching his lad be all fascinated by this new toy his mum got him, wood measuring spoons which he could chew on too. He threw it across the room, bunch of spoons went straight to the electronic appliances and started crawling his way to the toy. Harry didn't understand his play time one bit. "No, don't go there!" He picked him back up and fetched his toys.

But is Emir going to listen? He's a little baby!

It happened once, twice, thrice. Harry gave up and moved up all the appliances on the counter. Did it make a huge mess in the kitchen? Yes! At least his little boy isn't going to hurt himself.

There were house chores he had to get all done so his wife can come home and rest after working for hours and hours straight. Being a pastry chef is hard enough. He just wanted to help but he couldn't when he has a baby who is full of energy and adrenaline being introduced to his new toys this week.

Emir takes up after him for that, he would agree.

Harry's the same whilst on stage performing to his fans.

But this was exhausting for him to do everything on his own, plus his anxiety was doing nothing but add fuel to the fire. The boy kept running into things or getting himself stuck in things. He never noticed how easy it is to have another person around to help. It's usually him and his wife doing all the mundane things together, it is easy that way as there is always someone with a baby who had just learned to crawl. And he's a quick crawler.

Harry was becoming more and more tired having to run around after him, or calm him down after very fifteen minutes when he'd go to wash some dishes or get the laundry all sorted, or get the cats fed and clean up their litter boxes. Or when he prepared for dinner for himself and the boy.

Emir had a nappy burst when Harry thought he had gotten five minutes to sit down and breathe. The bath time was traumatising, with Emir screaming and crying for no reason. That's when Harry realised it was long after his nap time and he was sleepy and tired and hungry as well.

"It's okay my love, Papa's here for you." He assured his little boy after he had calmed himself down, which wasn't for more than three minutes. "I love you." Harry wiped his teary eyes with the pads of his thumbs, wrapped him up in a towel burrito before taking him to the master bedroom. He got the little lad dressed in his sleep onesie and brought him downstairs.

"I'm so sorry, Papa is having a hard time with your Mumma gone." He shared as he had him settled into his highchair, "I'm trying my very best, I promise." He felt bad.

Seeing Emir's tired eyes teary, as he was almost dozing off to sleep without having been eaten, it was his fault that he couldn't look after his son when his wife is stuck at work. Only if he could keep track of time properly and have fed him first than getting distracted by cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry. He felt a heavy pit in his stomach of guilt.

"Come on, Emir eat up then we can go to bed." Harry was feeding the little boy his dinner. He was all strapped up in his high chair, busy playing babbling and smacking his hands on the table still tired and worm out to the fullest.

"Mumma-mumma-mumma." He started his squealing. He learned to call both his parents recently.

"Mummy is working, my baby," Harry talked to him, "is that good?" He cooed watching him take a bite of the little rice porridge he made from YN's mum's recipe. "I know it's not as good as your mum makes it, but we can make it due."

His phone started ringing, "oh look, it's your mummy!" Harry answered the face time call from YN and perched up his phone against Emir's water bottle.

"Hello boys!" YN chirped. Harry saw she was kneading some pink fondant. "Are my lads doing lad things that lads do cause lads are cool?" Harry laughed at that.

"Mamma!" Emir squealed.

"Hello my love, are you eating your dinner?" YN said.

"I don't know how you do this." Harry spoke up.

"What?"

"Feed him, he's so wiggly!" Harry exclaimed trying to give Emir another little spoon full of food. "See! This is why I took up on bottle feeding." YN just laughed. Harry's very afraid to spoon feed him because he's afraid that the metal cutlery is going to hurt his boy somehow. He loves to sit with his with a bottle of milk or formula, that's a good bonding activity as well.

"I probably sound like a horrible person, but — Emir come on, darling!" Harry was close to having a breakdown.

"Harry, it's okay, love. You're doing good he just looks a bit tired." He watched her take her phone and head out of the kitchen telling her employees what to do next whilst she talked for a minute on the call. "It's okay!"

"I don't know, I've been anxious all day." He shared, "you do it all so flawlessly."

Honestly she doesn't. He had seen her make mistakes too but she knows how to quickly move on and fix her mistakes. He didn't know how she does that, really. He reckons it's because she lived with her older brother who's got three kids here in London until she married. She always talked about baby sitting the babies when her brother and his wife would go out, for work or whatever it was.

"And that's okay, okay?" She assured him, "I am so sorry I can't come back home right now. You're already doing so good."

"I hope so, he hasn't eaten anything, I forgot to put him down for a nap earlier as I got caught up with the chores." Harry pouted still trying his best to have his little boy fed. "What do I do!?"

"Harry, look at me," she demanded so he did, "play with him for a bit and then try again. If that doesn't work then give him some formula."

"Okay." He nodded. Emir knocked off the bowl of rice, spilling it all over himself. "Oh god, I'm gonna cry!"

The little boy started laughing finding it humourous.

"Yeah, you find it funny huh?" Harry scoffed. Can he be mad at that adorable face? He placed a kiss on his boy's head.

"Anyway, Harry I'll be home after midnight so please don't wait up for me okay?" YN shared.

"Do you have too much work?" Harry looked concerned looking at his tired wife. Yeah, she hasn't been working that much since Emir's birth, but the breast feeding and everything which comes post delivery was taking a toll on her, physically. He hated to see that. He felt bad to even ask that question.

"No, almost done here." She shared, looking down at her work station, "just a handful of things to sort out then, Jay and Kat will be delivering the cake tomorrow at the venue."

"Okay, drive home, yeah?"

"Mhmm, I will." She nodded, "please don't be hard on yourself. Give him some formula and he'll be off to sleep."

"Yeah. I love you."

"I love you too!" YN blew a kiss each to both her boys before she hung up.

"You're a proper lad, aren't you?" Harry sighed and scooped up his son out of his highchair carefully. "Being so rowdy today."

Emir just laughed and shied away, hiding in his dad's chest. Harry chuckled and brought him in the kitchen with him, propping the baby on his hip he made a bottle of formula. "Let's go lounge on the sofa, hmm?"

Harry got comfy with his baby on the sofa, draping the fluffy throw on the boy to keep him warm. Emir just lied on his chest having his meal all sleepy yet it didn't seem like he wanted to sleep.

"Mumma!" He squealed looking at his dad.

"No, baby I'm Papa." Harey laughed. "Can you say Papa?"

"Papa!" He squealed again.

"Yay!" Harry celebrated, pressing sloppy kisses on his chubby cheeks. "I'm really sorry, my love. I was having a bad day today." He felt guilty for having him wait up for dinner. "I hope you aren't mad at me. Mumma is a really good help, isn't she? But she's stuck at work today. I know we shouldn't rely on her but this was the first time were together, isn't it? We had a lads day in today. Well, more like you had a proper lad day. Where did you get all the energy from, hmm?"

Emir just sighed dramatically, resting his head back on his dad's chest. All snuggled up he was starting to fall asleep.

Harry adores his little boy. He worried the day he was born because he didn't had that love-at-first-sight connection with him. It took him time to learn about him. His little boy was a new human and he felt like he needed to get to know him first, but there was no doubt he would protect the little bundle of joy with his life. It took some time to make peace with it all, that it was okay to feel that way.

Now they're both inseparable. Even though Emir is more of his Mumma's boy, he still manages to have fun with his Papa.

Today just added to that all that guilt for him.

The next thing Harry knew was feeling gentle taps on his arm. "Harry, do you wanna go sleep in our bed?" It was his wife he found when he finally opened his eyes and found his boy missing.

"Where did Emir go?" He panicked.

"I put him in his cot." She shared, "do you wanna go upstairs and get comfortable?"

"Yeah, sorry I fell asleep here." He sighed, "when did you get back?"

"Just fifteen minutes ago."

"Hmm, let's go upstairs and sleep. I am so tired." He got up to follow after her, "did you manage to get the order done?"

"Yeah, we did." She yawned making him giggle, "sorry I'm very tired."

"So am I, love." He draped his arm around her waist, tuck her closer to him.

"How did your day go?"

"Oh, don't ask!" He sighed dramatically. "I still feel bad, you know." He was walking straight to bed giving her space to go get ready to join him but, she stopped him.

"It's okay, Harry." She cooed, "come sit here. Please?"

"Come on." He walked her to their bed.

"You don't have to feel bad, okay? I know you tried your best, he knows you did." She assured him, stood in between his thighs to hug him.

"But I don't know if he ate properly." His voice was low as he sniffled, his face buried in her chest. "I got so distracted."

"Harry he's a baby, he'll wake us up if he's hungry." She said, running her fingers through his hair, "you know it's okay to make mistakes I'm sure he isn't even going to remember anything in the morning. We'll do one thing, let's bring him over to sleep in our bed tonight, yeah?"

Harry doesn't like that. He'd insisted on sleep training their baby since he turned six months old, but he agreed today.

"Yeah!" He nodded.

"Harry? You're crying?" She cooed and bent down to look at him. "It's okay, I promise."

"I, I know. I just can't help it." He chuckled sheepishly. YN smiled and wiped away his tears with her sweater paws, press a few sloppy kisses on his either of cheeks.

"I brought made your favourite cake pops." She reminded him, "kept them away in the fridge for you."

"You did?" His face lit up instantly.

"Mhmm." She nodded, "the ones with chocolate cake and coffee butter cream."

"Oh I love you so much!" With his arms wrapped around her middle he pulled her down, flipping them over he buried her down in the mattress.

"Oh my..." She laughed, "I should have told you that earlier."

"Yeah!" He agreed. "You should have!" Lifting his head up from her neck to look at her, he pressed sloppy wet kisses all over her face.

"Now don't go eat them all cuz I used a lot of coffee in it." She explained, "you won't be sleeping tonight then."

"I'll go bring our little lad in then, leave you to relax and do your skincare and stuff." He gave her another peck on the mouth before he lifted himself off her.

"Mhmm."

When YN returned from taking a shower and doing her skincare, he found her boy fast asleep. Emir lied on his side in the middle spooning his small teddy tucked under his arms. Harry lied just behind him with his hand rested on his little tummy.

......................................................................

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idontbelievethehype · 4 months

Text

This isn't for you. Part 1. F.S.

Lets give Farleigh a life outside of Oliver's gaze. ;)

Warnings: drinking, some drug use, smut if you really squint, the general disgust of the upper class, Farleigh being a bitchy pansexual, Oliver is his own warning, Farleigh can't tell the difference between friendship and love. I don't write user inserts. This is an ofc based on a vague amalgamation of several people. No beta, we die and typo like men.

Farleigh was running late. Farleigh was always running late. It wasn’t something he often even clocked about himself, but this time was different. He’d made a promise to his Art of Islam tutor that he’d attend her thesis defense, and that defense was across campus in 5 minutes. He was selling her short of course. She was a million things more than a tutor to him.

Truthfully, Farleigh didn’t give a singular fuck about the art of Islam. He did give a fuck about Maggie, though, and as poor at time management as he was, he was determined to at least try to keep his promise. So he ran. It was a first.

Maggie was already speaking when he took a seat along the back wall of the lecture hall, sliding down slowly as to not make any noise. He worked hard to steady his labored breathing as silently as possible. He mentally checked out almost immediately, but his eyes never left her nervous fingers hooked together, giving each other comforting strokes as she spoke.

45 long minutes of death by PowerPoint later, Farleigh heard his own name, snapping him from his open-eyed daydreaming.

“Lastly, I’d like to thank Farleigh Start for taking the time to read through this dissertation several times over the last year. You’ve given me lovely feedback, so thank you.” Her voice was weak and rough from having spoken for an hour straight. He simply offered a nod and a smile. Truthfully, he’d only read it once and skimmed it three times. He loved the passion and fervor that worked up in her voice when she spoke about art, and that was enough.

“So, are you a doctor of art now?” Farleigh bumped his elbow into Maggie’s shoulder as they walked side by side back to his dorms. He had waited for her while she answered questions in a closed room. He was glad he’d never know that anxiety. A second class in Art History and never returning to uni again would be more than enough for him.

“I’ll find out by the end of the day, but it is usually a foregone conclusion.” She seemed calmer than she had in months. A weight had clearly been lifted off of her shoulders. It all felt a bit silly to him, but knowing Maggie meant witnessing her drive, however pointless it may seem. She needed a doctorate just about as much as he did. Far less, even. Her future was pre-ordained and quite comfortable.

He’d grown up just a couple of years behind her in age, always stuck together at functions and events. He couldn’t even count how many times they’d been sat side by side at dinner parties. He’d watched her grow from a chubby little girl who couldn’t stop talking about anime into the gorgeous, articulate, connoisseur of fine art she was today. He knew that she’d watched him grow too. He often wondered if he was just a child in her eyes, as he sometimes was in his own.

“Will you be joining us tonight?” He opened his door for her, watching as she toed her shoes off next to his bed and flung herself down, deflating after a long morning.

“Pub?” It was mostly mouthed. Sound barely came out of her. He didn’t turn the light on. There was a softness to her when she was spent that he didn’t see in other girls. He certainly didn’t see it in any of the boys he knew. Something gentle and sleepy and begging to be held.

“Can’t tonight, love. I’ve got a dinner with mum.” She lifted her arms and legs like a bug, slowly waving them about with a foolish smile, beckoning Farleigh into her grasp. “Come, smoosh me.”

“If you’re trying to be sexy, you’re shit at it.” He complied nonetheless, lying on top of her and hiking her thighs up his hips until they were interlocked on his bed. It was intimate, yet anything but sexual. It was a position they found themselves in on a semiregular basis.

“When I’m ready to be sexy, you’ll know.” She giggled and tucked her face into his neck. The heat from her breath made his hair stand on end. “You could come to dinner if you like, Farleigh.”

“Not with THE Countess of Snowden. I couldn’t fathom taking a moment of her time.” He didn’t need to see her to know that she was rolling her eyes. The relationship between their mothers had been adversarial all their lives, though it rarely trickled down to the children. For all of the caddy shit talking and passive aggressive comments over cocktails, they all summered at the same estates and enjoyed the same trappings, even if Frederica and Serena had been at each other’s throats since birth.

The thing about Maggie that Farleigh loved the most, apart from just blanket familiarity, the thing that really set her apart from every other landed gentry in their friend groups, was that Maggie never once acknowledged her birthright. It was there, sure, and it was significant. 27th in line to crown, Easter brunch with the Queen, etc, but she lived her life quietly and calmly, in the way Farleigh imagined boring middle class people did. She never pulled the rip cord for a bailout. He respected the hell out of that. It was something he was never able to accomplish himself.

“Oh come on then, you could ask for my hand in marriage,” Maggie started, exaggerating her posh accent for his enjoyment. Farleigh squeezrf her side, making her squirm into him more. “Two great houses equal in dignity.” She recited Shakespeare mockingly. To her, they really were equals, though Farleigh knew better.

“Dignity, is that what we’re calling this now?” Farleigh slid his hand down from her waste to her hip, letting the silky fabric of her trousers slip between his fingers. If she were someone else, he’d start working on the buttons, inching the zip down, easing them away from her skin. Not Maggie though. This wasn’t a game to be won. There was no trophy at the end. To comfort and to be comforted. That was all they were there for this time.

“Drinks after, I suppose.” Maggie mumbled, lacing her fingers into his hair softly, her nails barely grazing at his scalp. “If you’re still out.”

“We will be.” Farleigh closed his eyes and let himself appreciate the feeling of her hands on him. He was rarely touched so tenderly by his lovers. Even calling them lovers was giving too much credit on both sides. “Felix has a new pet. You can meet him.”

“Oh, god. Not again.” He felt her body go slack. Maggie’s family was closed off. True aristocracy always was. They found the way the Catton’s took on strays to be intolerable, always making Saltburn a theme park for the less fortunate. Last summer, she’d called it sad. Poverty porn in how they always fed on the stories of the downtrodden. Farleigh wanted so badly to agree, but he knew in some ways he was just as much a charity case as their flavor of the week.

They parted ways around tea, Maggie going to shower and nap, Farleigh off to attend a tutorial he had put zero thought into. He loved the way his tshirt smelled of her hair, of shampoo and the scent she’d been wearing since her 16th birthday. Vera Wang Princess. Cheap and frankly pedestrian, probably purchased at Boots, it was the sort of scent he’d drag a woman for it he met her in the pub. He didn’t mind it on Maggie. It was familiar and soothing to carry her with him for the rest of the day.

Farleigh sincerely hoped Maggie would come out to the pub. He wanted to chat shit with her and maybe dance a bit, but she text him around midnight that she was going to bed. He didn’t reply. She was wishy-washy on nights out. Always a good time, but rarely in much of a mood to have one. She got horrible hangovers regardless and he’d been talking to a boy from St. Anne’s all evening who seemed interested in fooling around.

They didn’t see each other the next day, or over the weekend. This was hardly unusual. Farleigh loved her company in a different way than that if his other friends, or his cousins. He suspected she felt the same. It wasn’t necessary to keep tabs. It was annoying even. With the school year coming to a close, they were likely not to see one another until midsummer anyway.

Farleigh arrived to Saltburn with Felix at the end of term. He’d wanted to take a weekend or two in London to party, but Venetia had pleaded with them to come home. Venetia felt more like family to Farleigh than most. His little sister, faithfully awaiting his return.

They had a peaceful, though boring week as a family with the occasional entertainment of poor dear Pamela’s idiocy. She’d worn her welcome out over the spring, but Farleigh knew that the Catton’s need a bit on tension or they’d go looking for it. He quite enjoyed having someone else be the mess on the floor for them to step around.

Once Ollie arrived, though, it all felt a bit crowded. The little gremlin attached himself to Felix like a leach. No matter where they went, Oliver was there like an unsettling shadow. He was a poor lost boy. He demanded attention and care. Farleigh longed for the comfort of someone who just gave a shit if he was in the room or not.

Felix’s man-child has arrived

Farleigh sent the text already knowing the reaction he’d receive.

Well, then, I’m not coming now. Yuck.

Maggie liked to pretend she had any control over it. Of all of the places to be and families to summer with, one could do far worse than Saltburn.

Of course you are. They’ve already made up your room for you.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. The rooms had been made up for weeks for whenever Maggie and her mother planned to stop by. Hers was one of dozens of rooms that go largely unused.

Next to yours?

As God intended, my love.

When they were children, they’d build little forts with blankets and sleep side by side all summer long, never alone in the night. At home with their mothers, they were always alone. Left to their own devices. Summer was the only time Farleigh felt truly part of anything. When they got older and shipped away to boarding schools, their summers together were sometimes supplemented with bank holidays and winter breaks. The idea was the same even while their bodies were quite different.

They would talk, maybe kiss, maybe touch, maybe more. It was equal parts educational as it was erotic. To this day, when Farleigh makes a girl cum, it’s Maggie’s body he’s using as a roadmap.

She came through the doors with absolutely no fan fair. She had a way with Duncan. She seemed to disarm him. He didn’t feel the protective need with people whose stations were far higher than the family he served. She could take nothing from them, only give. And besides, he’d known her all her life.

“Good morning, lover.” She wrapped Farleigh in a hug from behind at the garden breakfast table, surprising him. She kissed his neck, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He held his arm out as far behind himself as he could reach to not burn her with his cigarette. Almost immediately, she did the same to Venetia on her right. “Oh how I’ve missed you, my dear.”

“I didn’t even know you were coming today.” Venetia pushed Felix’s feet from the chair between herself and Farleigh to make room for their friend. Maggie had always treated Venetia with a bit more care than most others. It went a long way.

“Oh, I drove. I was only at Daylesford. Hardly a long way.” She immediately silenced the potential comments brewing within Elspeth. She knew exactly how to please her, not that she really needed to. “Mum went off to Portofino.” She cupped a hand around her mouth, allowing only Elspeth and Farleigh to see, stage whispering. “To see a man!”

This elicited a delighted laugh from all of the Catton’s who often joked about how uptight and impossible to please Lady Serena could be. Daughter of Princess Margaret, she had somehow inherited absolutely none of her mother’s good humor or sense of fun.

Suddenly, as if she felt it boring into her, Maggie seemed to clock Oliver’s unblinking gaze. “Oh, hello, you must be-“ She let the sentence linger, having never actually learned his name.

“Oliver.” Farleigh watched him make the completely wrong choice of trying stare her down, that doll-like smile on his face that had pulled so many others in. For all of Maggie’s calm demeanor and candor, she didn’t trust a soul she hadn’t known a decade or longer. There was no way in with her. No amount of charisma or flirtation could build her good will. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ah.” Maggie raised her eyebrows, pasting a somewhat strained smile onto her own face to match his. “Sure.” Under the table, she took Farleigh’s hand. “I do hope you’ve been having a good summer so far, Oliver.”

After their somewhat tense interaction, Maggie largely ignored Oliver, and Felix too for that matter. They made plans to go to the field in the afternoon. Farleigh felt content for the first time in weeks.

“Strange, right?” Farleigh asked the second they closed his bedroom door behind him, both of them snapping into action immediately.

“Oh god, yes.” Maggie wiggled her jeans down her hips, sitting down on the edge of his mattress to kick them off. “Like a creepy porcelain doll.” She pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it into Farleigh’s chest. He was already half undressed himself. Maggie didn’t have a bra on. Her small chest held a sort of unexplainable, ungendered elegance. He preferred her that way.

“You should see the way he looks at Felix like he’s going to eat him or something.” Farleigh emphasized the word eat as he almost fell over trying to yank his socks off.

“I love it when you’re like this.” Maggie was down to her white cotton thong, sprawled out on his bed in a column of mid-morning sunlight. The ever-present dust from the tapestries on his walls left them in a faint, swirling fog. It felt like they were in a dream.

Farleigh stepped between her knees hanging off the bed. He ran his hands up her legs, enjoying the stubble of her unshaven thighs on his fingertips. “Like what?”

Maggie walked her fingers from the top of his hand to his chest before reaching out and pulling him down on top of her. “I like it when you’re a complete bitch.” Her eyes closed when she laughed and he laughed with her.

He shifted into her more, enjoying the way his hips forced her legs wide to compensate for their dramatic difference in size. It was his instinct to say something snide and barbed, dripping with sarcasm, but he knew he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to say anything at all.

Farleigh took his time with Maggie. He always did. They had nowhere to be but with each other. Last summer she had said he looked cast in bronze. She’d called him statuesque. Beautiful. No one else had ever described him as anything more than surface level. No one had ever looked at him long enough.

He pressed himself into her slowly, watching her lip go between her teeth and her face twist upward into a joyful smile. She craned her neck, looking down at were their bodies met. “How’s it look?” He asked with a chuckle, relishing in the way her breaths got heavier the more he moved.

“Really, really fucking hot.” Maggie spoke through a deep exhale, flopping her head back onto his bed and looking up into his eyes. “Best porn I’ve ever watched.” Her hand came up to his cheek, thumb brushing against his bottom lip. “I like to watch this too.”

“See, I like it when you’re like this.” He kept his pace slow and languid, coaxing pleasure out of her steadily. No rush.

“Talking dirty?” Her voice was husky. Her eyes still locked with his.

“No,” It came out sing-song, light. “I like it when you’re having fun.”

Movement in the window behind her caught his eye. Someone walking in the courtyard.

“Look, it’s the real-boy now.” Farleigh separated from Maggie just long enough to flip her over and slip back into her. Her ass bounced off of his hip bones. Her delighted squeal rang out through his open window so he reached forward to clasp a hand over her mouth. “Shhh, just watch him with me.”

#farleigh start #farleigh start fanfiction #farleigh start story #farleigh start smut #farleigh start x ofc #saltburn fanfiction #farleigh #farleigh saltburn #tify

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writingforstraykids · 6 months

Text

Only joking

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 961

Summary: After dance practice Chan and Minho get into a small fight, and one of Chan's jokes crosses a line.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, small fight, comfort

A/N: I hope you like it😊~Moon🌙

You’ve noticed the weird mood the moment your boyfriends returned from their dance practice. Chan seemed pissed, Minho seemed agitated, and they haven’t spoken a word since they got here. You’ve finished dinner, deciding to give them time to work it out on themselves. When nothing happens, you finally speak up. “So…what happened at dance practice?” Minho keeps staring at his phone but stops scrolling as if he’s waiting for Chan to start. Chan looks at you from his place at the kitchen island and huffs softly. “Hello?” you ask, starting to get irritated.

“Chan messed up some steps and got pissed that I told him in front of everyone else,” Minho speaks up, not looking into Chan’s direction on purpose.

“Wow, thanks,” Chan comments darkly.

“I thought you do that with everyone, being the main dancer and all?” you ask gently, trying to get to the bottom of this.

“Mhm, I thought so too,” Minho tells you, getting up as he notices you starting to set the table. He takes the plates from your hands and shakes his head at you. “Let me do that.”

“Alright, darling,” you nod, flashing him a soft smile. “And that pissed you off?” you ask Chan who watches the two of you.

“Apparently,” Minho nods.

“She didn’t ask you, Min,” Chan tells him.

“You didn’t seem so keen on answering just seconds ago, Chan,” he rolls his eyes.

Chan turns in his chair to face him and shoots him a glare. “Listen up, I have no issue with you telling me I mess stuff up, but you don’t have to point out the same mistake five times.”

“Well, then, don’t make it five times,” he mutters, but Chan hears it.

You sigh softly and sit down at the table with Minho, filling their plates. Now, they were starting to be ridiculous. Chan laughs weakly and rolls his eyes playfully. "You know, sometimes I'm really not surprised people out there think you're a sassy ass,"

Minho laughs it off, but you see the confusion and anxiety clouding his soft brown eyes. "Chan, stop sulking now, that’s ridiculous," you tell him, patting the chair next to you. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes again and sits down next to you, finally starting to eat. You watch Minho observantly, stubbornly keeping his eyes down on his food. "So, how was your day besides that practice?" you ask hesitantly. You can tell Minho didn’t take that last comment well and wonder what’s going on in his head now.

"As long as Min didn't act like he knows everything, it was fine," Chan says, clearly joking now, but there's no reaction from your shared boyfriend.

"And for you, Min?" you ask gently.

Minho clears his throat and nods. "It was alright," he simply says.

"Are you?" you ask and gently nudge his leg with your foot beneath the table.

Minho looks up and smiles bravely. "Sure, I'm home. Why wouldn't I be?" he asks, but you can tell how insecure he currently is.

Chan looks up and frowns softly. "What's wrong?" he asks confused. “You’re mad now?”

"Nothing, of course, I’m not," Minho says before swallowing hard and looking back down at his food. He blinks a few times as if he was fighting back tears.

You nudge Chan gently, who's already putting down his spoon. Chan reaches out for him over the table, gently taking his hand. "Min, baby," he says softly.

Minho lets him and very hesitantly intertwines their fingers. "Am I?" he asks timidly.

"What?" Chan asks, confused.

"I'm sorry if I was an ass today, Channie, I didn't mean to," he says and finally looks up. The desperation in his eyes to hear he wasn't was undeniable and hurt you.

Chan shakes his head and lets go of his hand. Minho's face falls at the loss of physical contact, and he watches him timidly as Chan gets up. Chan walks around the table, steps behind him, and wraps him into a strong hug. "The only ass here is me. I wasn't thinking. I should've known that joke would hurt you," he says, and Minho leans back into him, resting his hands on Chan's arms.

"I was only joking too, you know," he says gently.

"I know you were," Chan nods and plants a kiss on his cheek. "I'm tired, that's all."

"Okay," Minho nods and gently squeezes his arm. "You know I can still show you the steps here later?" he suggests.

"You would?" Chan asks, surprised.

Minho turns in his hold and blinks at him. "Obviously? You wouldn't be the first one who needs a bit of extra time," he tells him.

"I'd like that," he nods with a soft smile, his dimples showing.

Minho smiles back at him before looking at you. "Is that alright with you? We'd have to start the movie a little later then."

"Of course, that's alright," you nod encouragingly. "We'll have plenty of time afterward." Your boys smile at you appreciatively.

"The food's amazing, by the way," Minho tells you with a sweet smile.

"Thank you, love," you say softly and watch Chan with a fond smile as he sits down next to Minho, handing him his plate.

Chan places his hand on Minho's thigh beneath the table, squeezing it soothingly. Minho reaches down, resting his hand on his, and seems at ease again.

Once you're all done, you gather all of your plates even as they start protesting. "Off you go, my loves, you still have work to do," you send them off, giggling. They kiss your cheeks at the same time, making you laugh before leaving. You smile softly, knowing your boys are alright and happy. Sometimes, all it took was a little talk to fix things.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies

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mysteria157 · 4 months

Text

Chapter 10

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~9k

CW: Profanity, mentions of mental health (anxiety), explicit sexual content

Summary: You catch a glimpse of the growing life within. A home cooked meal and a searing kiss.

Notes: Hi! I have a habit of writing long chapters. That’s just what works for me and helps my pacing for this story. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated but not necessary <3 I hope you enjoy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

Previous Chapter | Ao3 | Next Chapter

It Had To Be You Masterlist

The March air that blew onto your skin when you opened the window to your soon to be nursery was cold and biting. It would be the only way to get the fumes out when you began to paint, a clearance you had to beg Dr. Reynolds for, but she allowed as long as you took long breaks and kept the room ventilated.

It was an olive branch, you supposed.

Your excitement to paint your entire house fizzled out the moment you realized you wouldn’t be able to risk the fumes, so you resorted to picking out colors with Ome and letting Chiyo and Santo paint instead.

Without knowing the biological sex of the baby, it gave you much more leeway for neutral colors and sage was a perfect fit. You had spent a week painting the room and now you were left to stencil out a design on the wall where the baby’s crib would rest.

“Kento was right, you have such a wonderful gift.”

Chiyo’s voice from the door of the nursery was soft and low like her son’s but filled with an intensity that could rival even Ome. You threw a small smile back to her before turning back to your half-finished stencil of a mountain landscape. Your pencil pressed hard into the sage colored walls, the lead bleeding onto the surface and slowly giving way to yet another peak that you would paint white with snow.

“I ordered some food. Why don’t you come take a break and eat?”

The Udon that slid down your throat was satisfying a hunger you didn’t realize you had. This past week, your cravings had increased in variety from simple and ordinary to borderline chaotic. When you craved dill pickles and peanut butter, Yuji stopped by the closest convenience store on his way home to get them for you. When your sweet tooth seemed to skyrocket and the only thing you could imagine was chocolate in your mouth, Gojo had whisked you away to Haibara’s bakery and ordered an entire basket of chocolate croissants. Geto, Shoko, Ome and even Nanami’s parents went out of their way to make sure you always got what you needed. It filled a hole since Nanami hasn’t been around.

In fact, he hasn’t been around for almost three weeks.

Ome had whisked you away from the backyard almost as soon as you had pulled away from Nanami during your housewarming party. You didn’t mind really, using the opportunity to get away so that you could get your racing heart under control. It was already overwhelming to realize that the man you used to loathe for weeks had spent just as long righting every wrong he had done. It was already overwhelming to see document after document in a small black folder of his work, clear proof that your ideas had been acknowledged, put to paper and ready to execute. He had gone above and beyond for you once again, showing you clearly that he would do whatever it took to gain your trust and sincerity.

But to top it all off with a date of all things? You agreed in a heartbeat.

But as you mingled with your friends in your new home, riding off your high of joy, it crashed as soon as he broke the news that he had to leave on a business trip, eyes angry as he read the text from Yaga that he had just received. Four hours away in Nagoya, gone for three weeks to get the branch under control and effectively putting a hold on your date. He made up for it as much as he could, texting every day to make you feel special.

Kento Nanami: Omelia tells me you’ve gone through three cans of pickles in a week. Please try to keep your cravings under control so that I can cook for you myself.

Kento Nanami: Most of the people here are idiots. Especially the manager. Balding, halitosis, a shirt that is much too small and a very low IQ. Ome would have a field day with him. What’s taken him years, would have only taken you two days at most. If only you were here to put him in his place.

Kento Nanami: I will have missed three episodes of the Kardashians, if you watch ahead of me, I will never forgive you. I have a new brownie recipe to perfect so please wait for me. Or else.

Kento Nanami: I’ll be back tomorrow in time for your checkup. I promise I won’t be late.

Every interaction made the smiles more frequent, the fluttering in your heart more incessant, the heat between your thighs more prominent with almost every single action you took. Kento Nanami with his indifferent gaze and even tone when he spoke had to be doing this to you on purpose.

That had to be it, right?

You admired the neutral brown on the walls as you slurped down another spoon of Udon, the hot noodles sliding down your throat.

“Only one more coat and a day of drying and your house will be ready for your to properly move in.”

Chiyo smiled softly at you, one of her hands spooling a patch of Udon noodles before she elegantly shoved them in her mouth. Her straight black hair framed her face perfectly, fifty-four years of age perfectly preserved with good eating and a modest skincare routine shined back at you as she smiled and began to twirl her fork with another helping.

Since meeting her during the holidays, she had slotted herself into your life in a permanent way without making herself too insistent. She sent you a text once a week to ask how you were, pulled you to lunch occasionally to get you out of your thoughts and away from your home and even offering her own motherly advice when it came to raising a child. She was everything you wanted in a mother. Not too imposing in your life, but still present enough to make herself known in whatever way you needed.

“So, has my son decided to finally be a man and take you on a date?”

Santo’s usually quiet demeanor was loud in your partially unpacked kitchen as you slurped another fork of noodles, green eyes not the same color as Kento’s but still just as intense.

“He has. But he had to leave on business before we could solidify anything.”

Santo hummed, bright eyes looking down at his soup before he pursed his lips and looked up at you again.

“Take charge, y/n. The Nanami genes are strong in our family. Kento should have warned you that a condom and birth control would not be enough. Our sperm is quite strong when it finds the right match.”

You blanched visibly, choking on a long noodle as Chiyo admonished her husband in the background, smacking him on the arm and cursing with a level of Japanese that even you couldn’t distinguish.

“Forgive Santo, darling. He speaks without thinking. But have you two talked about your plans?” You shook your head, the miso broth filling your cheeks before you swallowed the heated liquid. “While I don’t agree with how my husband put it, I will say that taking charge will prove beneficial. I’m happy to know that Kento is such a gentleman and knows how to approach just about every challenge he faces, but when it comes to you, he is a fish out of water.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in response. You hadn’t really thought about your date with Nanami. After he went away for business, you tried to push the thought as far away as you could. What if he finished his trip and realized he didn’t want to go further with you? Maybe he had simply blurted out that question to you in the heat of the moment, riding off both your emotions and your warm arms around his neck in your backyard.

What if you let him in…and it doesn’t go anywhere?

A messy breakup that would only result in weekend visits and awkward holidays and birthdays.

It’s just the baby having an effect on him. Probably just sympathy. When the baby is born, for all you knew, Nanami would become cold and distant again.

The logical side of you could smell the anxiety from a mile away. You knew you were simply overthinking and using anything to keep yourself protected. You opened your mouth to speak but the words didn’t come, the last thing you wanted was to pour out your nervous thoughts to his parents. They had done more than enough for you recently.

You had forgotten the conversation altogether by the time you threw your overnight bag over your shoulder and locked the front door of your home. Until the paint was completely dry and the fumes gone from your house, Ome demanded that you stay with her.

Santo lingered on the curb, eyes on his phone and a pensive look on his face. Chiyo however, stayed by you, not speaking as you shoved your house keys into your purse and smiled softly at her.

“Kento’s been such a nervous wreck, you know?”

She chuckled to herself, jet black hair billowing with the slight nightly breeze. You watched the silky strands flutter in the air, twisting and squeezing each other before resting again on her unblemished cheeks.

“He sends me different restaurants that he’s been contemplating, asks what he should wear, talks about you constantly in his own ‘Kento’ way. I haven’t seen him like this since high school.” She rested a hand on your cheek, her soft and warm fingers melting into your skin slowly. “I know you have a tendency to worry, but please listen to me when I say that Kento may be a little rough around the edges at first. But once someone is deemed important to him, he will never let that person go. While I believe you are much too intelligent and beautiful for any man, I’m glad you’ve decided to glance your way at my son.”

The chuckle that pulled from your chest was abrupt and low, your mouth curling into a small smile as you listened to her. You were lucky that you learned to self-affirm yourself growing up. You had always longed to hear it from your own mother. But hearing those words from Chiyo, a woman who had only known you a few months but had practically treated you as her own, somehow made it so much better.

“Dear, please leave her be. Omelia is expecting her. She’s threatened me one time and I refuse to feel that shame again.”

Chiyo rolled her eyes at her husband’s rambling, brown eyes dancing with playful annoyance before she stroked your cheek and pulled you into a firm hug. Freesias, it was a smell you had been trying to nail down the moment you met her. It always danced around her when she was with you. Such a strong scent but always gentle and soft in your nostrils when it wafted towards you.

“I would love to see your outfit when you have it picked out. Let me know how the appointment goes, honey.”

***

You took another large gulp of ginger tea, ignoring the slight burn and savoring the taste as it trailed down your throat to nestle in your stomach, soothing the nausea instantly. It had been weeks since you last had any sort of nausea or morning sickness. But it had to be today of all days; the day where you would find out the sex of your baby. The day where you would finally see Nanami again after three weeks. You wanted to be clear headed and free of any ailments because the moment he sees the discomfort on your face, he would be all over you.

Not that you didn’t mind a chance for him to be all over you, but not like this.

The sound of your car door opening pulled you out of your anxious thoughts, your head whipping up in the direction of the source, ready to scream at the intrusion. Your tongue dried up immediately when you saw him.

God, three weeks was too long.

Nanami graced your presence in brown khaki pants and a pair of white Chelsea boots. A light brown ribbed short sleeved shirt hugged his broad torso, chest stretching the material and tantalizing you from where you sat. His typical Cartier watch flashed at you, wrapped around an elegant veiny wrist. No glasses today, no sharp part and hair gel, his shiny blonde locks hung free, the tips almost touching sharp light brown eyebrows. That familiar cologne danced up your nose, setting a fire down your spine and making your skin prickle with heat and excitement. Brown eyes gazed down at you, twinkling slightly and showing off the small smile on his full lips. You suddenly felt like a peasant in your simple black maternity leggings and long cashmere sweater.

“Hello there.”

Just the sound of his voice again after so long had you swallowing hard.

He didn’t wait for a reply, simply holding out a single hand for you that you kindly took and let him pull you from your car. The warmth from his touch radiated up your arm, pulsing against your skin and bleeding into the sound of the heartbeat in your ears. His large form hulked over you, casting a shadow on your face from the harsh sun, the tendrils of his cologne begging you to come closer. You cleared your throat and offered a small hello in reply, letting him lead the way as you both walked through the parking lot and inside of the clinic.

You took another sip of your tea, the contents of the large cup dwindling at a rate you were not satisfied with.

“Are you nauseous again?”

His voice held a hint of concern, head reclining against the wall behind you as he lolled his head over to look down at you. His eyes were still stoic and as unreadable as ever to everyone else, but you could see the flicks of worry and anxiety in his irises. You hummed in reply, picking at the flimsy plastic of your cup lid.

“Just today, came out of nowhere. I’ll be fine though.”

You shot him a small smile, your stomach turning at an angle that made you want to lurch forward in your seat. Nanami saw right through your façade, that worry and anxiety quickly flickering to calculating and observing. But he didn’t comment.

The nausea had died down by the time you were reclined on an examination bed, watching Dr. Williams flitter quietly around the room to gather her ultrasound machine and supplies. Dr. Reynolds thankfully had a counterpart with rave reviews in Nakameguro, a woman of color who was just as distinguished, a smile just as warming, and a demeanor all the more reassuring and safe.

“Alright since this is our first appointment together, I just want to run through some general questions so I can get to know you and the baby a little better.”

She ran through typical clinical questions; date of birth, month of conception and possible birth date, your last meal and current issues you wanted to be addressed.

“The second trimester is always said to be a small break from the anxiety of the first. Do you have more energy?” You nodded in reply.

“Appetite coming back?” Another nod.

“Sleep?” Yet another nod.

“How about libido?”

You faltered for only a second before nodding stiffly. Nanami remained quiet as usual from next to you even though you could feel his eyes on you. Dr. Williams’ eyes narrowed just a little, hazel gaze filling with something that made your blood run cold.

Curiosity.

“It’s very common for it to be incredibly heightened during this time. It’s also the best time to connect with your partner.” Her gaze flickered up at Nanami before coming back to you, her satisfaction fulfilled by whatever she saw on Nanami’s face that you were too shocked to look at.

She chuckled gently.

“I apologize, I love to see the reaction on the father’s face when I ask that question.”

You relaxed instantly, shoulders sagging back into the chair, the back of your head thumping on the plastic behind you. Dr. Williams turned her back to you and began to prep the ultrasound machine. With her distracted, you chanced a glance over at Nanami and held in the urge to gasp. His eyes were on you—always on you, you realized—melted irises of heat that had your mouth watering, cheeks pooling with saliva as you swallowed unashamedly as you looked at him. His gaze dipped down at the movement from your Adam’s apple, locking on your creamy skin for only a moment before sliding his eyes back up to you.

And just as quickly as the look was on his face, it was gone, his lips turning up into a natural smile as he slid his chair closer to you. You ignored the heat from his skin, pushed away the urge to grab him by his shirt and pull his lips to yours.

“Now! Let’s have a look.”

You pulled up your sweater, the smooth bump of your five month old baby making you relax quickly. You had not gained a lot of weight, or at least not yet. Your belly was noticeable, but not enough to obscure anything past your hips if you looked down. Your doctor poured the cold gel on your stomach, rubbing it in with the flat head of the ultrasound wand.

The familiar thumping and whirring of your baby’s heart echoed in the room, practically pulling you into a trance as you looked at the tv panel. The barely formed speck you had first put your eyes on months ago was now more detailed. You could see almost every feature through the black and white grainy film; a well-defined head, two arms and hands, curled up feet and a thin sliver of umbilical cord.

Nanami’s smile from earlier began to grow slowly, his own heart pumping louder at the sight of his child so close and yet still layers away and not quite ready.

“Would you like to know the sex?”

You and Nanami both reacted at the same time; you nodding your head furiously and him muttering a strong ‘yes please’ from next to you. You weren’t anticipating his next action as you felt both of his hands envelop one of yours, the shocking warmth making you startle just a little as you looked over at him. His eyes were still on the screen, eyebrows pinched together with a mixture of happiness and satisfaction as he listened and watched your child move and breathe.

Dr. Williams cleared her throat, pulling all attention to her as she narrowed her eyes at the tv panel before smiling gently at you both.

“A very healthy baby girl.”

You giggled, eyes filling with a thin veil of tears as you took in the information. You had always felt a love for your baby but being able to put just a little more detail to it’s—well her—face, made you feel closer to her. A girl who would hopefully have your curls, Nanami’s eyes and calm demeanor, hands ready to explore the world around her.

A soft chuckle huffed from Nanami’s mouth next to you, pulling your gaze back to him and marveling at the sheer happiness in his eyes. He squeezed your hands in both of his, the feeling shooting a zap of electricity down your spine and into your toes. His soft gaze flickered over to you, sharp cheekbones relaxed and defining his face even more as he rested his chin on his clasped hands over yours, lips curling into a small smile.

Even though he was silent next to you as you both walked back to your car, you could feel the energy radiating off him in waves. His mouth never really got rid of the smile, it was toned down and practically nonexistent, but enough for you to see and be happy with. You squeezed the strap of your purse as you stopped in front of your car, fingers digging into the tough material. He ran a large hand through his blonde locks, the bangs pulling back and then flopping back on his forehead again.

“I was going to ask you to dinner tomorrow, but I can understand if you want to postpone if you’re not feeling well.”

The thought of dinner made your stomach twist with a sudden onslaught of nausea. You couldn’t deny that the thought of sitting in a restaurant was not exactly on the top of your list right now if you could help it. And you highly doubted that would change tomorrow.

These past few weeks you had felt stuffy no matter what you wore, puffy and swollen, and generally insecure in your growing body. Your belly was beautiful, the growing roundness only filling you with a maternal instinct that was multiplying by the day. But you couldn’t help but feel…large and unattractive. While your ankles weren’t swollen yet, your hips began to grow, your thighs peppering with cellulite, your stomach stretching with the growing bump of your child, showing subtle tiger stripes that you were sure would darken quickly. As much as you wanted to be out in public with Nanami to eat what would surely be exquisite food, your plunge in self-esteem had left morale quite low.

But you still wanted to spend time with him. Even if that meant curled up on the couch for a night.

“I haven’t really been in high spirits to be out and about. But…I hear you’re quite the cook?”

He lifted an elegant light brown eyebrow, the gesture smooth and unintentionally seductive.

“You want me to cook for you?”

You shrugged in response, your fingernails worrying the material of your purse strap to distract your sudden bout of nerves.

“Unless you’re afraid you’ll disappoint me? You can admit it, I won’t hold it against you.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, head tilting back slightly towards the sky, full lips twitching at the ends to fight off a smirk. He sighed even more dramatically; his theatrics were clearly at an all-time high today possibly from the riding high of knowing what his child would be.

“I’ve never seen you be so forthcoming with your attempts to play along with me. You must have really missed me.”

Something had to have been driving the words that were leaving your mouth. You were too confident all of a sudden, too daring, too committed to picking Nanami apart to see more and more of emotions and gestures that he never showed anyone else.

And to your joy, he took the bait, his gaze sliding down to you slowly, intense and penetrating and hard to look away from. He crossed the pavement between you both with two strides of his long legs, the air growing thin as you felt the heat from his body grow in intensity as the inches between you both shrank. You refused to flutter your eyes as the clouding effect of his cologne washed over you, invisible hands wrapping around your waist and beckoning you to come closer and give him everything he could possibly want.

The cold steel of your car hitting your back pulled you back into your body, immediately aware of his tall form towering over you. You refused to give in, no matter how much you wanted him to lie you down in the backseat and slide his thick tongue down your body.

Instead you lifted your chin, trying your best to show defiance and ignore the heated gaze that was looking down at you. You could see the mirth in his eyes, his arm pressing against your car, large hand still close to your body.

“And if I did? What then?” His low voice washed over your face, peppermint and a hint of ginger from the tea he snuck a sip of when you weren’t looking. “Hmm?”

You were going to lose this fucking battle and quickly. Your resolve was faltering with every breath you took, every whiff of his smell that practically had you drowning. You were going to make a fool of yourself. You could feel it right around the corner.

He hadn’t moved, his brown eyes sharp and unrelenting as he picked you apart silently, reveling at his effect on you. Your fingers dug into your purse strap further, the sound of the groaning material pulled his eyes to the action before he smirked slowly and slid his eyes back to you. He could tell you were sinking and fast. But you were not going down without a fight. No, instead you lifted your chin again, eyes narrowing at him and casting indifference to his tall frame.

“Cook for me. I expect it to be good.”

He lifted a brow, smirk never faltering.

“And what would you like?”

“Udon, I’ve been craving it. And another batch of brownies.”

He was silent for what felt like minutes, head tilting in contemplation, smirk growing fractionally. The hand on the car slowly drug down to the handle, the sound of the latch disengaging and opening, pushing you closer into his chest that made one of your hands come up to stop yourself from collapsing into him. Well defined muscle and smooth pectorals pressed against your palm, the texture of his ribbed shirt only making you want to rub your hand up and down him.

Damn him to hell.

You cleared your throat and stepped into your open door, his hand falling to his side to give you more breathing room.

“Since you seem to be calling all the shots, what time should I expect you?”

You turned around to look up at him, your eyes still narrowed in challenge.

“Six. It doesn’t have to be done by then, I would like to help if I can. If only to be sure you’re doing it right.”

He pursed his lips, an action you had never seen on him before and it was jarring enough that you cataloged it in your mind for later review.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your blood immediately began to boil, pumping hard between your legs, thighs clenching from his words. He was teasing and the words were only meant in jest, but you couldn’t help but imagine them being whispered to you in earnest, his hands digging in the sheets of his bed, body at your mercy as you rode him into oblivion, snarling at him not to cum until you did.

You could have it if you asked him. Even though your relationship was only just now blossoming, you had a feeling he would make you cum as many times as you wanted if you just pulled him to you and asked.

But instead you growled gently, turning around to climb into your car before the blood made its way to your cheeks and gave you away completely.

“Fuck you.”

He shook out a rare chuckle before closing the door behind you and watching you drive away.

“You look fucking fantastic, stop pulling at your clothes.”

You couldn’t help the eye roll from Ome’s usual ramblings, looking at yourself in the long mirror of her bedroom with frustration. While you wanted to be comfortable, you still wanted to look…a little nice if you could help it.

Ome had insisted on the black leggings and matching long sleeve ribbed sweater in your collection. It was soft and comfortable, showing the gentle curve of your belly but not too tight on your skin. You let your curls hang loose down your back and topped off the look with a simple diamond solitaire necklace and matching earrings.

Ome was glaring at you through the mirror’s reflection, her silver eyes admonishing you from her perch on her large king bed.

“I just want to look nice—”

“You’re fucking beautiful. I hate when you get like this and it’s been a lot more frequent lately.”

Your anger flared as you picked an invisible speck of lint off your arm.

“Well maybe it’s because I don’t feel beautiful, Omelia. I have to hear how I’m overreacting from you and Gojo all the time.”

She scoffed harshly, her body shaking as she rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

“As if Gojo knows what he’s talking—”

You felt some coil snap as you turned around to glare at her.

“While Gojo can be obnoxious and annoying, he’s also been nothing but nice to me and the people he cares about. I get that you hate most men, but Gojo has been around you too much and tried too hard for you to still be this way. You’ve been nothing but a piece of shit to him! I don’t mean to defend a man but Jesus!”

She was struck silent, eyes wide and filled with disbelief, her head inclined back as if you had yelled in her face. Her perfect eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, full lips opening and closing as she tried to find the words to speak.

You shook out a deep breath, shoulders relaxing and guilt filling you quickly.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you. But someone like Gojo has been trying to even get you to speak normally to him for almost six months now. Give him a chance before you completely resign yourself to ignore him forever. Then you’ll have a valid reason. And I…I haven’t felt confident in my body. I love that I’m pregnant, I do. And I love that I’m growing a life inside of me. But I hate how everything is changing, I’m starting to get stretch marks and my cheeks are more puffy, soon my ankles will swell and I’ll look like a whale. I don’t feel beautiful, Ome. I appreciate your encouragement, but this will probably take me some time.”

You turned back to the mirror, too upset to look at her, and began to tug at your sleeves again.

“I know. I’m sorry. I get so worked up when you talk down on yourself. It only makes me hate your mother more; you were always good at making yourself feel confident, but she should have done that too. I know you’re going through changes so a lot of what you see is hard to comprehend. But you’re glowing, y/n.”

You shook out a small humorless chuckle, your fingers fiddling with the seam along the sides of your sweater.

“All I will say is this, you could have any man you want. Almost every guy in high school tripped over their feet when you looked their way, but you were always focused on grades and getting ahead. Kento Nanami, one of the most distinguished directors of our former company, was able to get all up in that.”

“Ome—” you admonished her, fighting the giggles in your throat as you rolled your eyes to glare at her playfully. She was smiling, pearly whites shining back at you as she reclined on her bed, both hands behind her back.

“I’m serious. That week we were there for the summit, it was almost revolting how many females batted their eyelashes at him. And he turned them down so well even I was impressed. A tall man with a sexy ass voice and an indifferent stare, appearing aloof but capable of taking everyone down a notch with only a few words. Excellent taste in clothes and watches, muscles that make you wanna drool. Men like that have to strap their cock to their leg before they put their pants on.”

You choked on a laugh, your anxiety popping like a bubble before you walked over and kicked her leg.

***

The smell of bread hit your face the minute Nanami opened his apartment door for you.

He was doing this on purpose, there was no other way around it. Black pants, socked feet and a grey short sleeve shirt that hugged him perfectly. Fleshed out pectorals, his biceps stretching the sleeves, a ghosting of abs beneath the fabric. Loose blonde locks framed his sharp face, a few tendrils falling across his forehead as usual and making him look relaxed but also just as rough.

You hated him.

You didn’t, but God how you wanted to in this moment.

“Smells good.”

He didn’t offer a response, pulling the door open and stepping aside so you could walk in. His kitchen island was decorated with different ingredients; a basket of homemade Udon noodles, a small area with dashi and mirin for the soup base, a glass pan shiny with cooking spray and ready for the brownie mix that would surely go inside. A large pot was simmering on the stove, something inside clearly frying and filling the kitchen with the smell of dough that hit you a few minutes ago.

“Would you like a sous chef?”

“No.”

His tone was gentle but firm, a large hand settling on your lower back as he guided you to one of the chairs perched at the island. You settled in the chair, smiling softly at him as he pushed a small pillow down behind you.

“For your lower back, I imagine it’s a little sore. I’ll rub it later.”

You bit your lip at the promise in his low voice, stomach clenching in anticipation as you watched him walk across the kitchen to the fridge, opening it up and setting a small bowl of edamame in front of you. You stayed silent, eyes following his hand as it moved across the counter, long fingers dipping into a bowl of Himalayan salt before he sprinkled a little of it over the green vegetables and pushing it closer to you.

“Eat. A small snack to tide you over so you don’t drool on my granite while dinner is prepared.”

You shot him a narrowed gaze before relenting and popping a stalk into your mouth. He seemed satisfied with the action, a quick emotion passing over his face before he turned around and pulled a kettle from the stove and a glass cup from the cabinet next to him.

You watched the muscles in his back contort and flex, thick bands curling around his shoulder blades and pushing up against the fabric as he poured hot water into the cup and turned around to push ginger tea in your direction before turning back to his position at the stove.

You felt your chest fill with heat at his actions, a blanket of protection falling over you and relaxing your nerves almost instantly. The lapse in conversation had allowed you to finally take in your surroundings. Besides the busy activity in the kitchen, you could hear the faint echoes of jazz music from his living room, pulling your gaze in that direction and landing on the vinyl as it turned slowly, pushing the tonearm up and down as the needle ran over the small ridges and bumps of the record.

The television was playing but the volume was muted and the familiar face of Kourtney and Kim Kardashian bickering over something made you snicker.

“This is a rerun. We both watched it.”

“I like reruns.” He spoke to you softly from across the kitchen, his back still turned to you as his hands moved in the motion of stirring something in the sizzling pot in front of him. “Besides, I’ve missed three episodes and you promised to watch them with me.”

You bit down into another croquette as you watched him mix the soup base together, biceps curling and flexing against the fabric of his shirt, tantalizing you from across the countertop. You swallowed a large chunk of the savory bread, your tongue suddenly too thick in your mouth. Nanami for the most part was his usual silent self, asking you questions occasionally and throwing you soft smiles when you weren’t looking as you ate your fifth croquette of the night, eyes rolling in satisfaction before narrowing at him when you finally caught him staring.

To be honest, Nanami was nervous. It made no sense to be, you both had seen parts of each other to pull away any sort of veil of illusion.

When he blurted out his question of dinner to you three weeks ago in a moment of vulnerability, he hadn’t imagined you would say yes. And since then he had spent too much time on his phone trying to find restaurants. He had tried to picture the layout of his closet to compile an outfit while he laid in his hotel bed night after night, pestered his mother far outside of his character about what she thought you would like. He had finally had it all figured out and one look at your nauseous face yesterday and all of that shattered instantly.

But you had surprised him like always; looked up at him with a fierce gaze and demanded he cook for you. And he agreed immediately, bending to your will without a second thought and slowly reminding himself that this was only the beginning of being prepared to do whatever you asked of him. He reveled at the opportunity. He had never been one to want much; he knew what he liked in a woman. Intelligent, capable, self-assured and motivated, not afraid to speak her mind and state what she wanted without batting an eyelash. You had barged into his life and the minute you had barked at him in his office, showing him just how fierce you were, he knew he was a goner.

Some men would say that he was quick to be ‘whipped’. But Nanami always found that those men were idiots anyway, using their sharp comments to mask insecurity and a small dick. Even Gojo, for as obnoxious and arrogant about his looks and prowess as he was, was quick to give almost anything to the rare girlfriends that he did have.

He couldn’t even say hello to you when he opened his front door earlier that night, trying hard to swallow the drool in his throat and keep his eyes from roving over your form as you looked up at him with a teasing gaze.

His father had told him about the ‘glow’ that his mother had when she was pregnant. He had even read up on it through the various pregnancy books around his home, but you were truly shining. You always were, but it was almost blinding when you hit your second trimester. Your hair was longer, curly locks hitting the middle of your back when he happened to catch it down. Your skin was smoother than usual, cheeks a little more rounded when he caught you smiling occasionally. Being able to see your belly in the clothes you wore stirred something in his gut that was a mix of admiration and primal lust that he was beginning to question. He did that. Kento Nanami did that and could now watch you grow the life he helped make.

His thoughts were only getting bolder, more arousing, and more loud every time he was around you. He marveled at your fumbling form every time he was a little too forward. He knew you felt something for him, he could practically taste it in the air when you were around. He didn’t want to scare you away but if he managed to get his hands on your thighs tonight, all bets might be out the window. Just a little taste and maybe you would relax just a little more into him. Trust him a little more. Smile at him a little more.

“The Nanami men are insatiable once they find someone they want to be with. For Heavens sake, please go easy on her, Kento.”

“Are you sure I can’t help you with anything, Nanami?”

Your voice pulled him from his father’s teasing thoughts, the picture of his mother smacking him in the head put a small smirk on his face before he turned around to look at you. Your lips were slightly shiny from the grease of the croquettes you were eating, eyebrows pinched in worry and hands perched together on the countertop.

“Call me Kento. We are having a child together and I’m cooking for you. All sense of professionalism left a long time ago.” He refused to smirk at the blush that colored your cheeks before you cleared your throat and shot him an exasperated glare.

“And no, I don’t need your help. I just need to cook the Udon and dinner will be served.”

The restraint to hold back groan after groan as the Udon slid down your throat was practically an art. It was perfect, just what you were craving and it seemed to be endless as he placed another small helping into your soup base when you were running low, long fingers elegantly holding chopsticks as he stirred the noodles and soup together before tapping the side of your bowl and pulling back to his own food. The smell of the brownies was growing stronger by the minute as they cooked in his oven, the promise of chocolate growing closer and closer.

***

“I wish you would sit down.”

His raised brow admonished you as he took the empty bowls from your hands and shooed you out of the kitchen. You wandered to his record player, content to watch the vinyl spin slowly and hit your ears with slow jazz as you listened to him wash dishes behind you. Your eyes roamed down to his collection, admiring the many different records of jazz, classical, and even R&B. Every time you were around him, something small only stood out to you more.

“Kento Nanami likes R&B?”

“You sound very disbelieving.”

His voice was quiet from the kitchen but still carried over to you. You didn’t respond, satisfied to look through his collection in silence, a small smile on your face as you learned more and more about him. The sound of him cleaning faded into the background as that familiar warmth roared back to life in your chest. You heart began to flutter as you swiped through each collection, stomach filling with butterflies at the thought of him showing his daughter each one, playing it for her day after day as she grew.

“I should apologize to you.”

The sudden timbre of his voice made you turn around to find him already perched on the couch, both arms extended along the back, his shirt stretching deliciously across his torso. He looked like straight sin, but his eyes held a sense of worry that made you stop any traitorous thoughts from forming. You made your way across the living room, sinking into the soft couch next to him and offering a curious tilt of your head, your curls cascading over your shoulder at the action.

“Why?”

“You look very nice tonight. I thought it the minute I opened the door but I…got quite nervous and didn’t say anything.”

He swallowed softly, brown eyes glancing at his television screen as a means of distraction before flickering back to you.

“Kento Nanami admitting to being nervous? I thought I would never see the day. I should mark the time.”

He hummed in disappointment, eyes narrowing at you.

“Do not tease me. I was raised to be a gentleman and I wanted tonight to be nice for you. For us both.”

“A gentleman would not have done any of the things you did that night. Making a woman cum three times even while drunk? That’s quite an accomplishment.” He shook out a deep chuckle, rolling his eyes even though his cheeks peppered with a hint of blush.

“Besides, I look no different than any other day. I didn’t notice.”

A flash of indignation colored his features, heavy and instant, his eyebrows furrowing, eyelids blinking in astonishment. He turned more to you, arms leaving the back of his couch and falling into his lap.

“Why must you constantly say things that do not make sense?”

His gaze was sharp and serious, posture stiff and unyielding as he stared down at you.

You shrugged and looked away.

“It’s just the pregnancy, there are just some things that make me uncomfortable about myself. I’m not used to having stretch marks or knowing I’m going to get bigger. I just haven’t felt confident recently, but it will pass, Kento. I’m—”

“Beautiful.”

Your tongue curled into the back of your throat from his response, esophagus clenching together, heart skyrocketing in your chest. You remained silent as you watched him push your curls off your shoulder, the warmth of his hand blazing a trail down the skin of your arm and boiling the blood in the tips of your fingers.

“Your stomach is growing our child, getting bigger by the day and I love every second of it. Your cheeks are fuller when you smile. You will probably begin to get stretch marks that I can’t wait to rub oil to help the scarring. Your ankles will probably swell, and I’ll be there to massage them to help you feel better. These are all normal changes, but they make you more beautiful than you already are, y/n. I’ll be here to tell you that every day until you believe it.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that morphed on your face, his words always making the fluttering in your body increase at alarming rates.

“Gosh, you really must have missed me.”

You meant it to be a small joke to put the attention back on him while you got yourself under control. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, your teeth biting into the flesh as a distraction for your brain so your heart could come back down to normal sinus rhythm.

But all too quickly, you watched him lean closer to you, his body hot and buzzing. You didn’t speak as you watched his dark brown eyes blow out slowly. You stayed frozen when you felt his thumb press against your chin, pulling down to watch your bottom lip slip from the clench of your top teeth. His eyes roved over your face, analyzing every inch, stoic gaze taking you in with an air of nonchalance that was blanketing a heavy layer of lust. When he met your gaze again, you didn’t gasp at the thin ring of brown that looked back at you.

“Is that okay? That I missed you these past three weeks? Am I allowed that?”

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as his hungry gaze never left yours.

“I…I suppose that’s okay. I can allow that.”

He hummed in satisfaction, the vibration rattling the barely functioning brain cells in your head. Muscular arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap immediately. You held in a squeak at the immediate change in position. He was under you, his warm body bleeding into your skin, soft cologne shooting up your nose and pulling you further into delirium. Even with you on top of him, he still was a head taller than you, his form imposing and looming, head inclined down toward you as he remained silent. His gaze was still sharp, blonde locks on his forehead messy and wild. You wanted to push them out of his face, feel the thick hair between your fingers and watch it flop back into place again.

You wrung your hands together at your sides, nerves making them tremble slightly before you felt Nanami gently grab them both and set them on his chest to help ground you. You wanted to squeeze his muscles, run your fingers down his chest and dip between every crevice of his abdominals. God how you wanted to.

“What else am I allowed then?”

You didn’t have time to stop the blush before it came, coloring your face with shame as you picked apart the innuendo. You would allow him to do just about anything at this point.

“I…well.”

You cleared your throat, trying your best to shoot him an annoyed glare.

From the way the corners of his lips twitched into a smirk, you had clearly failed.

“That depends, Kento. Name your price.”

He hummed playfully in contemplation, his large hands smoothing up your back, burning your skin and making your eyes flutter.

“A kiss. Nothing too scandalous.”

You felt one of his hands tilt your chin up to face him.

“Unless you would like it to be.”

There was a ringing in your ears, faint but incessant in your head as you tried to pull your soul back down to your body. You didn’t know why you were resisting so much. Maybe it was fear that he would have you again and then not want you anymore. Maybe you were afraid to disappoint him. Your lips were chapped, cheeks burning and slightly sweaty, chest heaving against him, definitely not the picture of lust.

You held your ground, his last teasing sentence playing in your mind over and over as you spoke.

“Not too scandalous then.”

His lips were on you as soon as you finished speaking, soft and full and overwhelming. Without the haze of alcohol, it was so much more powerful. His lips practically made yours dance, telling you where to go and how to tilt your head. The gentle dig of his teeth in your bottom lip made you clench your hands into the fabric of his chest. Large hands squeezed your waist, pulling you impossibly closer before one trailed up your back and buried into the hair at the nape of your neck.

You felt him tug firmly, pulling your lips from each other with a loud smack, your heavy breathing filling the air and then stuttering to gain control as you felt him trail his lips down your neck. His full lips were wet as they kissed against your skin, pulling it into his mouth before digging his teeth into the flesh. You blushed hard at the choked breath that rushed out your throat, head still inclined to the ceiling as he kept a gentle grip in the hair of your nape.

You knew what was coming, had dreamt of it ever since that night. Nanami could get progressively nasty and fast. It didn’t take long and you didn’t hold back the whine that slid from your mouth as you felt a thick and hot tongue lick a slow trail up your neck, tantalizing and eager, pressing into the salt of your skin with the promise to be everywhere else if you let him.

“K-Kento.”

You were practically dripping in your leggings, your cunt throbbing and ceaseless as it ground against him. Your jaw dropped open as you felt him hard and thick beneath you, pressing through the crease of his pants.

The hand in your hair slid down to your ass, joining the other before he squeezed hard and pressed his lips to yours again. Your vision was swimming and you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer and ground yourself into the present at the same time. Anything to fight the onslaught of lightheadedness as you felt his lips open yours with a gentle give and his tongue slide into your mouth. You could still taste the Udon and tea on his tongue.

You didn’t care about the whimper that left your throat. You couldn’t give a shit as you rocked your hips against his, the slick arousal making you slide in your panties as reveled in the firmness of him beneath you.

You tried not to care as the sound of the oven beeping made you both jump. You pulled your lips away from him, your eyes sliding to the open kitchen. Nanami didn’t seem to care, his lips sliding back against the skin of your throat, worrying the flesh between his teeth.

“Kento. The brownies.”

“Let them burn.”

His voice was rough, thick and heady as he spoke against your throat. You felt your cunt throb against him in response, an action that he clearly felt before he rutted his hips up into yours.

Even though the lust was practically suffocating you, you had been craving those brownies the minute Nanami slid them into the oven. Your pregnancy cravings were hard to curb once they made their intentions known.

How you loved the girl growing inside of you. But she had proved yet again to be a cock block.

You pushed him away playfully, marveling at the subtle pout on his face. Blown out pupils narrowed up at you. He was the very picture of a boy who had been deprived of sweets before dinner; petulant and miffed, but still going to listen.

“Fine, fine.”

He sighed out the words, sliding you off his lap before he stood and disappeared into the kitchen. You turned to look at him over the couch, the action making the muscles in your lower back croak in soreness. You winced silently, cursing internally at yet another thing in your life keeping you from getting laid.

You thought the twinges in your back would disappear after a minute or so. But by the time Nanami joined you in the living room ten minutes later, they had only intensified. He set a plate of freshly cut brownies on the coffee table in front of you before sitting back down next to you.

“What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you hated how observant he was; your face was straight as an arrow but he saw right through it. Even though his brain was riddled with sinful thoughts, his concern for you made it all fizzle away.

You sighed in defeat.

“My lower back. It’s hurting a little. I didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

A familiar eyebrow lifted in response before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours softly and briefly, pulling away with a playful smirk on his face.

“What an odd thing to say. You're here with me, my mood will always be better than what it was before.”

He offered you nothing else as he moved you to sit between his legs with your back to his chest. You watched in silence as he turned on one of the episodes of the Kardashians he had missed, placed the plate of brownies into your lap, and gently pressed his fingers into your lower back.

One of his hands smoothed your curls from your back and over a shoulder to be out of the way and you felt his lips press to the side of your neck before he watched television with you in silence. Your heart fluttered for what felt like the millionth time in the two days since he had returned, chest filling with warmth as you took a big bite of a brownie and settled further into him.

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