#well of course the quiet part of their argument is that they only think white history is real history

[boccher]

I find it funny how when something gets a name change, there's always a group of people saying it's "erasing history" cuz like that argument is not true in any way you think about it. Every news article, plaque, tour guide goes from just saying "Sir Butfuckington National Park", to like "Swan National Park, formerly known as Sir Butfuckington National Park to honour his discoveries but renamed because he killed like 50 thousand native peoples". Like, I'​m pretty sure we're learning a lot more history in the new instance

[alpydk]

Consequences

Gale x Tav (F)

I don't know what this brought on. Lunar Eclipse I'm blaming (Even if there's not been one. Or Chapter 88 from @auroraesmeraldarose) - If you've not read it, go now and do so. It's filth. Purely amazing filth.

Tav slept with Mizora, Gale left as we all know. Hate sex ensues at the epilogue party. That's it.

Word Count - 4,271 - CW - Smut, hair pulling, dom Gale, lots of catty arguing.

The fire crackled softly as the party goers mingled, catching up on the previous six months of gossip and adventures. Shadowheart absent mindedly stroked the white fur of Scratch as he begged for the roasted lamb upon the table, Wyll and Karlach skulked off rather quickly together with a couple of bottles of Purple Dragon Blush in hand, and Astarion wished his own glass would refill quicker as he listened to the long-winded explanations of portal travel from Gale. None dared mention the one member of their group who had not appeared despite being their leader.

“She’s probably not coming, love,” spoke Astarion as he noticed Gale’s head once again whip around as if searching for something.

They’d all known of the tumultuous end to Gale and Tav’s relationship, the argument turned to fight in the early hours of the morning, plates being thrown, insults hurled in pure anger. It wasn’t the most lively the Elfsong Tavern had ever been, but nearly all inhabitants spoke for weeks afterwards of the shouting and the reckless acts of the Heroes of Baldur’s Gate, of tables destroyed under sparks of lightning, of the rain of arrows piercing the scarlet curtains as she’d stormed out of the premises. If it hadn’t been for the tadpole, she probably would have left for good.

None of the small party of adventurers had ever seen Gale lose his temper to such an extreme, his heart broken and then crushed with such little regard, and it had taken Shadowheart many an hour to calm him down after Tav had walked out of the tavern. He’d alternated between long rants about the audacity of what she’d said and done, and a simmering quiet as he plotted what he’d do when she next appeared. They didn’t know which was the more problematic to handle.

After Tav’s return, the arguments had continued, carrying on even throughout the upcoming battles, only now they had involved bitter sniping at one another. You expect me to take it lying down? That’s much more your style. Only because of your baggage at being dominated. They’d shared so many secrets between each other, but all this had done was provide ammunition to fire, just a constant barrage of spite and venom cutting in deeper than any blade.

“No idea what you are talking about,” Gale replied, his head lowering as he’d been caught in the act. He knew he was on guard for her, his plan of taking the high ground falling apart with the passing seconds. He was going to ignore her mostly, show that she hadn’t wounded him at all, that he was now a successful professor in Waterdeep despite her actions.

Astarion let out a light scoff and smirked. “Of course you don’t. So, the fancy clothing and manicure were meant for me instead, yes?”

“You, of all people, should understand the benefits of self-care.”

“Hm, you’d be right there, but I also know the effects those acts have on others.”

Gale rose his glass to his lips, a fleeting thought going through his mind that maybe he had done all this with her in mind. He hated her, though, for what she had done, how she had ripped out his heart and left him to once again pick up the shattered pieces of the little self-esteem he’d had left. All because of one night… “Well, my intentions were purely self-indulgent for once. After everything, I think I deserved a little pampering.”

“Have you even spoken to her since the docks?”

It was so easy to lie and say he hadn’t seen a thing of her since they’d parted ways that afternoon. However, their paths had crossed a couple of times since, once before he had left the city where they’d picked up their argument from where they’d left it in the tavern, and again in Waterdeep where he’d come across her in the markets. Their second interaction had been less intense, but instead came with it the icy chill of two people who loathed the presence of each other. Comments had again been spoken in anger but without the fury of earlier, both holding their cards close to their chest to not reveal to the other how things were in truth.

“I’ve been far too busy to have involvements with the likes of her.” Gale spat the last words out with disdain, the image of her in his mind as he’d left her near the stalls during that rainy day reminding him of the deeply buried anger.

The remark was met with a soft chuckle. “So catty. And I never thought you had it in you.”

“Then you clearly don’t know him well enough.”

The female voice caused both Gale and Astarion to lift their heads in attention. Tav stood observing them both and neither knew how long she had been there listening to the conversation. The leather armour they’d once known to wear had been replaced with a short scarlet dress, her long ebony hair braided back loosely, allowing wisps of hair to hang over her pale skin. Her dark eyes still burned with the anger of months past, and Gale lowered his head to avoid her scornful gaze.

Astarion was the first to raise his glass, welcoming his old friend. “My dagger-happy friend! We didn’t think you were ever going to grace us with your presence.”

She glanced over briefly at Gale before turning to Astarion and giving him a very intentionally close hug. “You know me. Love to make a fashionable entrance.”

“Or just like to make a show for attention…”

The comment was mumbled from Gale’s direction, but there was no acknowledgement of it. Astarion glanced nervously between the couple before letting go of Tav and grabbing a nearby bottle of wine. “I’ll just be catching up with Wyll…”

“But I’ve only just got here.”

“Yes, and we’ll have plenty of time to speak more intimately later. Especially if you catch up with us drinks-wise.” He gave Tav a wink before, in her opinion, scarpering from the scene, leaving her and Gale alone.

She was unsure what to say as she watched him lift his glass, finding it empty. “You look well.”

“As do you.”

---

Near the stalls of Waterdeep, Tav had bashed into him first, his books falling to the floor and the pages taking in each fresh raindrop with ease. Gale had initially apologised for colliding with her, but as he’d realised who he was dealing with, the response quickly turned to aggression.

“Still as perceptive as a drunk Gelatinous Cube,” he jabbed, collecting the tomes from the puddles and trying to get as much water from them as possible. He knew a few spells would be wasted repairing the pages as he reached his tower, but it was still another easily avoidable annoyance.

She scoffed, nudging a book away from him with the damp leather of her boot. “Or maybe just a little payback for your comments three months ago.”

“Payback!?” he exhaled. “By destroying valuable literature? How petty and childish, but then again, I should expect that of you by now.”

“Oh well, run home to Mummy Dekarios. I’m sure she’ll kiss your boo boo better.”

“At least I have a family, and not just the blood of the murderous god Bhaal flowing through my veins.” He knew these were not the best words to bait her with, elegance and articulacy abandoning him knowing her Bhaalist past would provoke her. Yes, she had renounced her father, but it was a straightforward attack and one she deserved.

The heat rose in her cheeks, and she gritted her teeth, trying to push down the knee jerk reaction she wanted to have. She would not respond as she had before in violence. He wasn’t worth the effort. “Better blood than whatever you pumped into your cuntish goddess.”

Just as they had last time, the situation escalated. Market goers ran past to escape the rain, but the two once lovers stood glaring at one another, each refusing to back down. At one point, they may have been able to discuss what happened, how Mizora had got involved, how the art of seduction had been enough to destroy what some had seen as true love, but now there was nothing but hurt and pain. Gale had refused to listen to reason, Tav’s guilt had resulted in attacks to protect herself, and neither wanted to apologise for the further damage they were causing.

Her words were biting, but they were nothing he hadn’t heard before. Mystra, the orb, his mistakes, social skills, any imperfection she could find, she had thrown at him, and he had done the same in return: Bhaal, alcohol imbibition, lack of education, poor literacy knowledge (what moron did not know of Storm Silverhand!?).

“What? Cat- “ The word rolled off her tongue in mockery “-got your tongue? It would certainly be a first.”

“I’m simply astounded that, despite our parting, you still feel that you could rival a goddess such as Mystra.”

“Not exactly a high bar to reach. Especially if she was interested in you.”

Lightning crackled in the distance as the storm worsened and with it, the skies rumbled as if reflecting the scorn both shared. The rain grew heavier, Tav shivering a little and trying to hide the regret of having chosen the thinner cloak for her outing. Gale noticed and tried to ignore the whisper of concern in the back of his mind. He’d give her none of it.

He didn’t want her to have the last word in this argument as she’d had back in Baldur’s Gate when her arrows had destroyed the bar and his lightning had destroyed the tables. Despite what had happened, they would both at least avoid that outcome. A devilish smirk appeared on his face, his hand giving a gentle flick beneath his moistened robes. “As much as I love to partake in your infantile game of insults, I do actually have somewhere else to be.” He pushed past her, purposefully shoving her shoulder, books in hand, waiting for her realisation at what he had done.

Tav stood, taking the full impact of his body against her arm. She wanted to shout at him, wanted to call him back to finish things properly rather than letting him run away like a coward yet again, but her body would not move. She knew when she’d tried to cut him off exactly what he had done. The fucking wizard with his spells again.

---

The hours had passed in a stony silence as the party continued. Tav had wandered her way around the old campsite, chatting with everyone and finding out what had gone on in the last six months. She’d almost punted Tara on getting hissed at, but knew the tressym had a lot more than just sharp claws and sharper words. Avoiding Gale had been her primary aim for the evening. Her secondary one had been to show how she was over him now, telling of how in the last six months she had continued to adventure, saving lives and being a hero. She’d hadn’t secluded herself to a tower or changed her name in an attempt to reinvent herself.

He tried to ignore her not-so-subtle digs at what he had been up to, his own attempts at one-upmanship being heard by Shadowheart and the rest of the company. Eventually, though, he’d ended up in the company of Tara, who was quick to give her own opinions on his ex.

“You certainly avoided disaster with that one.”

He huffed at her words. Hearing the opinions from others still did not come as he wanted them to. It was one thing for him to throw insults after all he’d been through; it was another for someone else to say them. Part of him wanted to defend to Tav, but he knew it would fall on death ears, and so he simply nodded, keeping his eyes forward and listening for anything that would drag him away from how uncomfortable he was becoming.

As the stars gathered in the sky and the campfire died down, people slowly excused themselves, leaving Tav and Gale alone at the table. Bottles of wine had been emptied, and both felt the warmth in their bodies, their tongues loosened and ready for another round of contention.

Tav glowered across the empty plates, seeing the way Gale’s eyes reflected the dying embers of the fire, noticing how a few more silver strands of hair had grown since her last meeting with him.

“I’m guessing your father never taught you it was inappropriate to stare,” he said without looking at her.

She looked at her empty glass, deciding if it was worth pouring another. She could feel the slight sway in her upper body, the heat in under skin, one she had blamed on anger rather than alcohol. “And I’m guessing Mystra taught you all about ignoring people.”

Gale glanced over at her, thankful for the table separating them. “Not ignoring, simply no longer interacting with those beneath me.”

“I seem to remember you preferring me beneath you.”

“And I seem to remember you not caring what position you were in. Or who you were in that position with.”

Tav was quick to rise to her feet, her palms resting on the table, partly for support, and partly to emphasise her annoyance at his comments. “Oh, like you would have resisted any better, Mr. I’ll fuck anything that shows me a little bit of positive reinforcement.”

He rose to his own feet, his voice increasing with anger. As everyone else had left, there was little reason to hold back any reason and logic. “I only wanted you! I only ever wanted you!”

“Clearly not! You were so quick to throw it away.” She made her way around the table, her dress catching on the off splinter and causing her to tug it in anger and her voice to become more spiteful. “You threw me away just as She did.” 

As she approached Gale, he tensed up, but he would not show any weakness to her. Not now, not after the months had passed, and he’d worked to move on. He’d picked up all his pieces, and he refused to have her break him again. “Threw you away? No, I just made you face the consequences of your actions.”

She stopped in front of him, backing him into the table, her chest touching his. She could smell the hint of wine on his breath, feel the heat of his body emanating and merging with her own. It had been so long since she had been this close to him, his lilac embroidered suit he’d chosen, complimenting the colour of his skin. He still smelt of the ink and parchment of his library, as he’d done all those months ago when they had travelled together, and she wondered if time had caused it to be buried into his pores.

“Because after all you did, you’re such an expert when it comes to outrageous consequences. I’m surprised you’ve not been reading up on how to shove an orb in my chest,” she bitterly replied.

“You’re simply not worth the waste of magical artefacts.”

The two stared at each other, refusing to be the one to back down. With its last flames extinguished, the fire left only the glow of the enchanted lights that encircled the campsite upon them. The musical entertainment had died out hours ago, and now all Tav could hear was the sound of their breaths mingling in the air and the river flowing in the near distance. She’d ran out of the stronger insults with him, wine and rage clouding her judgement of the situation. There were only so many times she could bring up Mystra or his folly before resulting in petty remarks about his behaviour or manhood. Now would be one of those moments. “You reek of your library.”

Gale did not hesitate in his reply. “You’ve put on weight.” It was true what he said, but he would not tell her it suited her, that the way her thighs looked in her dress had fanned the old flames within him almost immediately. Her body close to his, the heat between them, the adrenaline flowing through his veins as it always did in her presence made his heart pound and as much as he despised it, he wanted her.

Tav’s voice caught in her throat with the inane comment. Anger burned within her, his remark creating a whirlwind of emotions. A part of her wanted to laugh in his face, another wished she had brought her bow to the reunion, but his proximity clouded her judgement. She wanted to give him back that same pointless surface level snark he’d retorted with, but as she saw the intensity in his eyes, saw the soft curve of his lips, she knew there was little she could do than fall into her desires.

His lips hit hers with a burning passion, his hands gripped to the sides of her face, his fingertips weaving between her black hair. He pushed her forward slightly with the intensity, feeling the way her mouth responded in kind to his, her tongue dancing with his in a need to make up for lost time. Feeling his body react to hers so forcefully, he slid his hands down to her hips, gripping her tightly against him and turning them both quickly so she was backed to the table. “Tav…”

“Shut up.” She could feel the heat of his body rising as he pushed into her, her scarlet dress riding up over her hips under the force of his wanted movements against her. There was little to argue about further, only the desperate touch starved grabs at his tunic as she tried to gain better access to the flesh beneath.

With his mouth still drawn to hers, he batted her hands away as she fumbled with the ties. Both knew there was little want for the intimacy of old, there was only the raw, intense desire fuelled by fury and wine that drove them forward. Removing his lips from hers, he took in the sight of her before him, lust blazing in her eyes, her cheeks flushed, and body aroused. Gale’s hands remained firmly on her hips, and he turned her from him, bending her chest first onto the table. Glasses topped around her, and he heard her softly groan as the oak met her hands.

He ran his fingers up the tender flesh of the inside of her thighs, listening for the sigh she had given in the past. He knew she was resisting, but it came eventually as his hand reached the hem of her skirt. “I didn’t lie when I said you’d put on weight.”

“Fuck you,” she growled, backing her behind with wanting into the hardened erection that lay hidden underneath the leather of his trousers.  

“As you wish.”

He put Tav in her place with a clothed thrust, hearing her sudden moan with the impact. Little time was wasted as he hoisted her skirt up over her hips, taking in the sight of her filled out buttocks before him, the small black lingerie leaving little to his imagination of what lay beneath. He ran his fingertips over the material, working his way from back to front and feeling the way she arched into the feeling of his hand.

She looked over her shoulder at him, an annoyance in her eyes. “I’m not a glass of wine. Get on with it,” she barked.

Gale took this command as another excuse to toy with her, drawing his body back slightly from hers, releasing his grasp on her and watching as her irritation turned briefly to neediness. “Surely you can ask nicely, or did the cambion take your manners too?”

 “You’re under the assumption I had manners to begin with.”

“Then maybe it is time I introduce you to what I’ve been partaking in the last few months and teach you.”

He drew himself forward, one hand working at the buckles of his trousers, the other sliding the underwear from her hips before him. She averted her eyes from him, her palms outstretched on the table. He could see her ebony braid lying upon the scarlet fabric of her dress, and he remembered nights of his hands entwined in her hair in a gentle caress. This would not be one of those nights. “Now, my dear Tav. Say please.”

She scoffed at his words. “Fuck you.”

The hand on her hip came up and gripped the end of the braid, tugging it to make her aware of his intentions. He positioned his cock at her entrance, teasing her as she tried to back up onto him. “I apologise. I do believe I misheard you.”

Looking at the silver plates and empty bottles before them, she smirked. She could feel the longing building within her before he’d even began his lesson. After Mizora, Tav had not been with anyone else, and the guilt she had felt from her own folly had kept her from even attempting to trying to bed someone. Showing this desperation would not happen, though. She’d drag it out for as long as her body could hold out. Her words were slow, intentional, baiting. “Fuck. You.”

Gale pulled her hair with a sharp yank and, in doing so, pushed into her in one quick thrust. The sharp noise she made was muffled quickly with her hand, as she refused to give him any satisfaction. He lazily pulled himself out, watching as her body relaxed, returning himself to the teasing position once again. “Does the student still protest?”

It took her a moment to compose herself, not expecting him to take charge in the way he had. He’d always been soft with her, worshiping her as if she were a goddess, touching her softly and tenderly. This was a fresh experience, one she welcomed after all that had gone on between them. “For as long as I lie here unsatisfied, yes.”

She could not see him, but she knew he would be grinning at the idea of the control he had over her. She felt the sharp tug of her hair, the deep thrust that filled her, causing her to release an uncharacteristic whimper. “Fuck…” she whispered as she felt him retreat again, sliding over her clit in the process.

His throbbing could not be ignored as he pulled out the second time and he tried to keep his mind focussed, not on what he needed but on the words he spoke. As one hand remained on the braid, the other returned to her hip, his fingernails pressing into her side to keep him grounded. The control remained in his voice, a slow purr of the words. “Unsatisfied? Is that why you ran to her so eagerly?”

“Better to her than Mystra.” she whined, feeling his cock twitch against her. Her mind was clouded with yearning, her composure escaping her as body hungered for release. “Just as you planned to.”

He gave another quick thrust, but this time did not relent as he had before. His hand remained with the braid now wrapped around it, a rein in which to keep her head held high and her back arched. Her side of the story had finally been understood, her fear that she would lose him driving her to the cambion, the one who'd lured her with promises of what could be. Gale buried himself inside Tav, feeling her walls contract around him as she neared a long-awaited climax, his muscles tightening with each pleasured cry she gave out. His own grunts broke free, and he felt as he began to lose all the composure he’d once held onto.

 “…I…I’m so…” Tav stammered

“No.”

She opened her eyes in shock as he denied her, at how selfish he was being with her needs, at how good it felt to hear. “Please…” she begged weakly.

Her words were driving him mad, each thrust becoming shorter and more instinctive as her hips arched into him and the pressure grew. He knew he was close, all resolve breaking with each panted breath. “No.” It was the only word he could manage as his mind became lost in the sensation, his hand clasping her hip tighter, his body trembling as he refused to let go.

“Gale…please...” she repeated in a needy whimper over and over, her voice growing higher with each jolt of his body into hers.  

His name on her pleading lips was all it took to push him over the edge, spilling himself into her fully, feeling as she let go of her own self-control, clenching around him tightly and letting out a lustful cry. Bending over her, he felt her back upon his tunic, his warm palms brought down to the table to help support him as he gasped for air above her. Heated kisses were placed over her shoulder and without realising his thumb had hooked over her pinkie finger, a light stroking of contentment shared with her momentarily.

---

They lay for some time in postcoital bliss, neither speaking of what had happened nor what was to come. Despite the anger, the hurt, the cruel words spoken between each other, they still loved one another, but whether things could ever be repaired between them, neither knew. For now, all they had was this one night, one under stars and enchanted lights, amongst scattered plates and drained bottles. Talking could come later.

[dominantslasherking]

Slashers With Dominant Male S/o On Valentines Day

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+.

Backstory: Takes place at a slashers asylum...but its valentines day

WARNINGS: WHOLESOME

You boredly sat at the table, your eyes closely slanted onto the plain white table, where multiple valentines cards were laid out right in front of you.

"Quiet! He noticed them!" Billy muttered to Stu, the ghost face killers intently watching with wide smiles on their faces. The other tables who were at the tables with the two scream killers had their attention to the table you sat at.

Norman bates was the first to speak up, "Do...you think he will like them?" Norman hummed out, his voice gentle but held no sense of shyness. "Of course he fucking likes them." Chucky aka Charles lee ray spoke up, ruffling his hand through his hair, he wasn't in his doll form currently, he took a drag of his cigarette which he had took from one of the nurses he murdered.

Bo Sinclair turned to his brother in annoyance, before speaking out to the rest of the killers, "Here comes the silent fuckers...----no offence." He mumbled the last part to Vincent who just stayed silent under his wax mask.

Both Jason Voorhes, and Michael Myers had finally arrived at the dinnng room , following after behind them was Thomas hewitt, with his sluggish and sleepy like movement.

All three of them had sat near [Name] With their eyes glued to the valentines cards directed to you, obviously they had already placed theirs there, so they could only wait.

"Thanks everyone." Your husky voice spoke up which was pleasing to everyone's ears, as they melted just by your words. The more demonic slashers had finally arrived, chains both on their neck and wrists were glowing a light blue color, it had restricted their powers.

Pinhead headed over to the table, curious about the silly cards which were in shapes of hearts, and gifted to you, he was pleasured with the panging jealousy inside his chest, which caused him a different sensation of pain: It greatly pleased him.

Freddy Kruger was muttered curses, while staring at pinheads--well pins. Freddy had resisted the urge to grab on of the pins and stick it into a guards eye...he has done that before, but he only ended up getting tackled and months in solitary for killing a guard. "Heyy~ Babee~ Did you read mine yet!" Freddy teasingly asked as his burnt features twisted up into a rigid smile.

"HEY- Freddy, why don't you take your burnt sausage dick and shove it up your ass!" Chucky cackled, while throwing a heart shaped chocolate at Freddy's head. "Say that again! Killer Carrot top! Once I get out of these shitty chains, guess whos dream I'm coming to??---YOURS BITCH!" Freddy insulted right back, but before he could say much more Hannibal had stopped their argument.

"Why don't you two, sit down, and let us enjoy our meals, I'm sure [Name] does not appreciate your tussle as he is trying to read the cards." Hannibal stated, while he stared down at his tasteless food.

Slowly you inhaled a deep breath, "What time...will we go?" You slowly asked, the asylum was getting boring fast, and you were ready to leave.

Pennywise had giggled on your words leaning down on the table, his eyes flashing gold as he suddenly slipped off his shackles once you had spoken. "Penny is always ready." The clown teased, ready to help the other slashers who had chains on.

Lifting up from your seat, you stared at the slashers at the other table, who were also standing.

It sounded like a swell plan...

[jelestes]

the one where casey falls in love

casey x olivia — oneshot/headcanon

₊ ⊹

not in a million years casey would’ve imagine that elizabeth donnelly’s call would led her to what life is right now.

she thought it was a prank call at first, not having heard from the — now — supreme court judge in nearly 5 years, that would be the only rational and logical thing to think.

turns out it wasn’t.

of course casey was resistant at first, yes elizabeth donnelly personally asking you to take over svu’s DA office is a huge deal and isn’t something you accept right away specially not if it’s a sunday night and you have a fair share of wine on your system.

she had lived comfortably throughout the past 11 years, teaching at UCLA, working for non profitable organizations, being Santa Monica’s white collar division DA, hell she even had time to date! (not that the dating aspect of her life was exactly thriving but still). if she was being really honest, her heart had never quite left new york or svu.

or olivia benson.

the first few days were hard, despite being years since her brady violation she knew people would still hold it over her head but casey novak was never one to scare easily or shy away and that’s why donnelly called her.

after everything she’s seen and lived, she was even more fierce and passionate about the job and truth to be told she has been waiting for a chance to come back, she got one now and was more than willing to not let herself or anyone to get in the way of it, except, of course, said “anyone” had brown chocolate hair and eyes.

it had been a slow day, a tedious one even, when olivia barged in her office ready chew her a good one (god only knowing why), she froze on the spot when she saw casey. that was the first time they saw each other after over a decade.

she hadn’t changed a bit, despite looking older, she was still the feisty, fierce, gorgeous — not interest in casey the way casey was — looking olivia she fell in love with many years ago.

despite the initial shock they seemed glad to see each other again, well, casey certainly was, she was also certain by the time she heard her name out of olivia’s lips she was damned.

they fell into a routine pretty quickly, now that olivia was a captain (it was still weird for casey not to tease her with the word detective) they had to spend more time together, even more so than they did the first time around.

of course olivia would pass half of said time picking up stupid fights with casey, they clashed a lot and not because they were different people but because in some ways they were too alike.

sure, casey going after carisi every other five seconds wasn’t helping (he needed mentoring and casey was a tough love kind of teacher) but olivia interfering wasn’t doing any good either, not that casey actually minded the bickering, she found olivia to be at her hottest while angry but things were getting too tiring and as much as she loved that tension electric filled air olivia brought to her office she also wanted to feel appreciated, to feel she was good enough for once. a fucking thank you wouldn’t kill olivia, would it? that’s more than she got.

they had a particularly nasty fight, it was just a little past midnight, she had barely gotten home from the DA’s office when she heard someone knocking on her door, to her surprise it was olivia.

she let her in, they were successfully making amends until they picked up yet another argument, tired and not ready to kick her out of her house casey simply asked “what do you want for me?” and that’s when olivia did the unthinkable. she kissed casey.

olivia likes to think that this was when it all begun and that might be true, for the physical part at least, but casey knows that this was 20 years in the making. casey had fell for olivia the minute she laid eyes on her.

they tried to keep quiet about it but both were running out of excuses to give and there was way too many eye witnesses to their friendly-flirty banter.

they told fin first, he wasn’t at all shocked. amanda second, but she said she knew the moment casey walked in that squad room this was bound to happen (she was of course right), carisi pretended he didn’t care but he was happy for olivia and relieved that casey was being a lot softer on him now that she was head over heels for the captain.

she told donnelly over the phone, too afraid to tell her in person she waited until the judge was out of town to break the news, so certain she was about to get lectured casey had nothing but a confused look in her eyes when she heard nothing but a soft laugher coming from the other side of the line, “looks like you finally got your girl, counselor” said elizabeth.

and boy, she did.

fantasizing about being with olivia for over a decade was something, but being with her was a whole other thing.

now one year into dating the captain she learned that olivia is secretly a hugger, she’s straight up a stand up comedian whenever she’s in the mood, she’s ticklish although she will lie trough her teeth about it, she has the warmest lips casey ever had the pleasure to kiss, her body is addictive and so is her mind.

she’s both a coffee and tea person, she loves board games (and is a sore loser), she rather be bored out of her mind at hers and noah’s softball practices or games than not attending them. she brings casey flowers every friday night, she says it’s her way to apologize for being such a terrible cook and not helping enough in the kitchen but casey knows is because she is a hopelessly romantic.

olivia fights demons casey can’t quite comprehend but she let’s her in, she shares and trusts casey with them. if olivia’s the sea, casey is the shore.

one year into dating olivia benson, casey can safely say, reality is better than any scenario she could’ve ever imagine.

[vee-crytraps]

Kiss Me More | Ch 4-1 | {Ornament}

Chapter Summary: The optics change. AN: Who doesn't love a good Wayne Gala? Part 1 because Tumblr has a word limit apparently!

{Trigger warning/Themes Masterlist} First | Previous | Next | Part 4-2

“You know, this is like, the only time I’m not jealous of those three. I hate talking to these business types,” you share, talking over the rim of your glass as you soak up the mini crowds that have formed around Dick, Tim and Damian. Clumps of high society’s finest roam the packed event under a glittering chandelier mounted high above the dance floor. Circular tables in blinding white cloths pepper the room- the dainty plates slowly filling with tiny sandwiches, puff pastries and hors d’ouvres. You’re much more interested in the literal tower of champagne uniformly poured into crystal flutes with razor thin stems.

You decide to show some restraint and skirt around it, because only a newbie would sneak off with a glass right at the start of an event like this. Someone like Tim or Damian could often get away with snatching a glass or two right from the well balanced trays of the servers that expertly snaked from one end of the room to the other. Often times, said servers even set the glasses straight into their hands without thought. Usually, you were never so lucky. Tonight was different. You could feel it, sure as the glass that was casually placed in front of you.

“You look real pretty tonight, baby bat,” Jason whispers, his hand sliding up and down the back of your arm. His voice is low enough that no one else can hear him, but his eyes search yours.

He’s looking at you in a way that makes you have to shift and press your thighs together. You can only assume that he was telling the truth about the dress, but he would much prefer to see you out of it.

“But you’re right,” he continues, his voice as quiet as a whisper. “These events are boring as hell.”

“At least there’s something to say about the free booze,” You laugh, placing your empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter with practiced grace. “On the business side of things, we’re totally the black sheep as far as the public is concerned. I’m not too worried about that, though.”

Shifting your weight, you look at Jason from the corner of your eye. 

“You’re looking rather dashing yourself, J. How much did dad have to pay you to wear the tie?”

“Do you think he’d notice if I just…took if off?” Jason asks, his voice just as quiet as yours. “It’s been choking me the entire evening.”

His eyes are on you, and they linger across your body in a way that makes your skin tingle a little bit more than you’d like to admit. You can almost hear the phantom noise of him tearing the dress off of you.

“Maybe just loosen it a little, do you want me to help?” 

“Maybe just a little,” Jason mumbles. “Thank you.”

Reaching forward, you begin to loosen his tie. 

His hands settle on your waist, and you can feel the heat of his palms through your dress as you work. His eyes are fixated on your face as your fingers worked the knot in his tie. He can feel your breath against his neck, and he wants nothing more than to pull you against him like he did the other night.

“That dress is…something else, doll.” 

Tonight, you were freed from the shackles of your previous gala attire. You shudder to think about the sheer amount of ankle length dresses, doll like lace and silken frills. Of course, you’d been over the moon about said fashion when you were first welcomed into the Wayne household by your godfather. As you got older, though, the overly modest gimmick became more than a little suffocating. Of course, Bruce couldn’t pretend to be oblivious to your developing wardrobe sickness. He was Batman, for fucks sake- so it isn’t like you ever needed to voice that you were unhappydressing like a character in Little Women, but he’d always insisted. You’d certainly gotten into enough arguments about it.

As you sneakily inspected at your reflection in the spotless glass window, you wondered what changed.

Your dress fits you like skin and the low neckline leaves your shoulders bare. The hem flutters low around the heel of your designer shoes, the sole of which were painted a telltale red. For the first time ever, you’re wearing actual heels, grinning from a distance at Tim who you could now cast your gaze over without any effort. Despite you finally getting your hands on your Cinderella moment, you slip into your usual routine of slinking around the corners of the function, opting to people watch with Jason.

“Thanks. Bruce practically had a heart attack when he saw it, but the designer and Selina ganged up on him. They managed to convince him it was good for-“

“The optics.” Jason finished, in unison with you. “Bruce didn’t want you wearing this?” 

Your skin was smooth and well moisturized, glistening in the light. Your hair was styled into submission, adorned with pins cast in literal gold. “You look incredible. Really.”

“So you keep saying,” The pair of you reach a corner table, and as grateful as you are to be wearing such cute shoes, they’re starting to kill you a little bit. “I’m supposed to be his baby girl,” you shrug. “And here I am, in a skin tight dress that costs as much as a brand new car, drinking champagne. If you ask me, I think it freaks him out that I look exactly like the type of girl he used to pick up at these things. If you catch my drift.”

“And here I am, thinking that was exactly why you got this dress.” Jason murmurs. You snort. “Seriously, though. He’s just worried because deep down, he knows you’re getting older.” There’s a familiar heat in his eyes. “It’s…a lot to process. Believe me.”

“I know, he’s just being the best dad he can.” You sigh, sinking into your seat a little. You’d imagined if your mother was still alive, she would have loved to bond with you over mini skirts and go-go boots. It was just the kind of mom she had been. You had ‘sisters’ for that, you supposed, but they hadn’t ever exactly been live-in. Stephanie, Barbara and Cassandra had their own lives, their own families and friends. Even if you had the courage to insert yourself into their every day lives, Bruce would have his usual concerns. You knew he wasn’t classist despite his billions. You supposed the years he spent overseas getting his ass beat by monks and samurai was probably quite the humbling experience. It still didn’t keep him from attempting to herd you away from some of the riff raff- though in your case, that basically meant every person who rocked a mask part time that wasn’t on Bruce’s payroll. From the day Bruce had taken you in, you’ve had everything more or less handed to you. Sometimes even on a literal silver platter. You were grateful and tried not to argue with him much from the beginning, but at 18, you were so desperate to express yourself that it was hurting. So you tried to sit back and enjoy having seized this minor victory in the battle to dress your age. Much like everything else in life, though- it came with some conditions.

“I’ve got a mission, should you chose to accept it…” You sit up, knocking back the rest of your champagne. If you wanted this victory to last beyond tonight, you needed to earn it. It didn’t matter if it isn’t fucking 1810, the rules of high society dictate that you were ‘out’ now. No more hiding in corners with Jason or stuffing your face beneath the pastry table. Simply put, if you wanted to dress like an adult, you had to act like one, too.

“More pictures?” Jason guessed, standing as well.

“You’d think the people of Gotham would tire of seeing me dance with you guys. It stopped being adorable when I hit thirteen.” You grumble, and Jason snorts in response.

“Don’t sweat it. It’s fun. And we look good together anyhow.” He offers you his arm, and you gingerly take it. Jason isn’t sneaky about the sidelong glance he casts at you. You’re sure he’s not admiring your necklace. 

It doesn’t stop when you reach the dance floor. His hands rest low on your hips, and you move them up before setting your own on his shoulders. 

“Earth to Jay. You can’t look at me like that.” He would take you more seriously if there wasn’t an edge of embarrassment in your voice. As if you don’t know what to do with all this attention. “We’re supposed to be like…sibling-ish.”

“Supposed to be,” Jason repeats with a lazy half-smile. “I’m not sure who decided to set the rules for that.”

“Bruce did,” You emphasize, but saying his name only makes Jason pull you closer. You can’t meet his gaze as he drinks you in. 

“What if I’m not sibling material? What if all I can think about is bending you over the dessert table?” “Then think about something else,” “Like what?” It takes you a minute to think as you dance, swaying lazily with him as the small amount of press snapped a picture or two. He turned you in his arms and when you faced him again, you wore a smirk. “Cobblepot, three ‘o clock.” You tried, getting Jason to peak in the direction of the supposedly reformed criminal and his date- a rather tall, gorgeous young woman. “Do you think when she gives him head later he’ll use a high-chair or a step-stool?” Jason barks out laughing, and a well-timed glare from Bruce across the room has your second oldest bother disguising it with a fit of coughs. Jason says your name with shock that is only half fake. “When did you get so fucking gross? I’m a big fan.” “All I was asking is if you think he stands or sits for his blowjobs.” You snicker resting your forehead against his chest to hide your laughter, and he smiles into your hair. “I’d hardly call it a job, princess. That’s barely labor. It’d be like sucking on a Vienna sausage-“ You thank God that you’re dancing and not drinking, because the spit take alone would make the an awesome cover for a gossip rag. The fit of giggles you fall into shakes your shoulders, and Jason continues to hold you close until the song ends. “Bruce is giving us the signal to break it up,” He sighs, linking his arm with yours as he guides you off of the dance floor.  “Boooo,” You mumble, swiping another glass from the tray of a passing caterer. Just as your bring it to your lips, Jason plucks it from your hand and takes a sip. You opt to take another one as a different waiter passes with a full tray. Rolling his eyes, Jason takes that one, too. “Be a good girl and finish your rounds before you accidentally get fucked up on this stuff, please?” He mumbles from behind his second glass. It wouldn’t be the first time he'd double fisted champagne at one of these things, though this was far from his drink of choice. “It’s barely alcohol-"  “Correction. It barely tastes like alcohol. If you get sloshed at this thing, not only will you go back to dressing like a nun, Bruce will slap a chastity belt on you. And a backpack leash.” He tuts, peering over your head as a few new arrivals spill into the room. More sharp suits and sparkling dresses, but chief amongst them was Mayor Hill and his family. “Oooh excuse me. I’m gonna go bet Jordan Hill I can drink his ass under the table.” Part 4-2

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 22 - Glass Shard/Vehicular Accident/“Watch out!”

Scogan Bingo challenge Honeymoon

Marrying Logan was about as romantic and spectacular as anyone would expect, namely, one drunk Vegas chapel trip shy of a horrendous triviality.

It would probably have bothered Scott a lot more if it hadn’t been exactly what he'd expected. They'd talked about things, sure. Once or twice, in passing. Recent political developments once more nurturing mutant hostility in the general public made the climate for their school and their team rough as so often. With more conflicts arising and potentially lethal battles on the horizon every other week? Even two people who'd not even put something like a real label on their relationship so far felt the occasional need for a little bit of regularity, of stability in their lives. Plans, there had not been any, though. Not least because they didn’t want their teammates or the kids at Mutant High to know before the whole thing would be done with. Scott had had more than enough of his turbulent love life financing half the mutant magazine gossip writer salaries in this world.

And Logan mostly agreed to the whole deal in the first place because an according entry in the administration offices of this country made things simpler when it came to certain cases of emergency. Especially since Jean's last death, they couldn’t always rely on one of their own being around to patch either of them up after another mission gone south. Logan in particular could do well without yet another entry on his already impressive police record, for breaking some hospital security baboon's nose one day because he might not be allowed to visit his own boyfriend in some ICU.

Not to mention that, since they'd lost Charles in the clusterfuck that had been the Cure and Phoenix Crisis, finances at Mutant High had become significantly more complicated. Some really sweet tax benefits were a pretty convincing argument as far as Scott was concerned. In the end, nothing more than a convenience that they agreed, they could indulge in at some undefined point whenever the opportunity might knock. When that exactly happened, thanks to the two of them embarking on a small quest together, to stop a couple of lowlife bigots from ruining some wealthy mutant's private wedding in a luxurious country estate up North? It was only logical to accept the favor from a very graceful host, to lend them suits and the officiant already at the site anyway. In five minutes, everything was done with, much like expected. They put their signatures on the right spot on a couple of quickly scribbled-down papers and were even polite enough to stay for a drink each afterward. After wishing the actual happy couple good luck, they changed back into their uniforms and strode back to the X-jeep parked a couple of streets away. Technically, that could have been it. Except it only truly reached the front of Scott's thinking what they'd just done when he rummaged for the car keys in one of his belt pouches and heard the quiet rustling of that certain piece of paper in there, that the officiant had given them to take home. It was indeed the only tangible souvenir of soberly exchanged I Do's, save for a single photo that one of the host's guests had been nice enough to take with Scott's phone. No witnesses from their family or friends, no stinking green stuff in their suit jackets, no rings that neither of them would have worn a lot anyway thanks to their field duties ... No mushy music or fat white birds released into the sky ... Not even a slice of some far too sugary cake. And that part was more than alright. Scott had already had all that in the course of the whole drama that had been Jean and him even before her first demise at Alkali Lake. No need for repeat performances. But now that they were about to return home as if nothing had happened, Scott did feel a small sting of regret that there had not even been a couple of honest, heartfelt sentences to his now-husband earlier, about why today had felt so perfectly natural and right. Like something he'd wanted, instead of just something to be done for the show and for anyone but Jean and him, really, like that party with hundreds of guests at the mansion back then. Logan didn’t seem like he'd missed anything, but Scott suddenly realized that he didn’t want to let this rare day just for themselves end just yet. "Claws? What do you think about heading up North? You've been meaning to show me these parts you've been traveling before Liberty Island for a while."

"Now." Logan forgot that he'd just been about to light one of his obligatory cigars and stared at him over the edge of his zippo as if Scott had just grown red and blue scales and told him, Logan's freshly accepted new last name was Darkholme instead of Summers. "Are you asking me to go on a honeymoon, Slim?"

"Call it whatever you want. It's been more than two years since we went on a trip outside work is all I'm saying." Scott hurried to hide the treacherous blush on his cheeks by getting in the car but didn’t put the key in yet, nervously circling its ring on one fingertip instead. If Logan would say no, that would be entirely alright. Scott's desk at home was notoriously crumbling under the weight of everything that Charles' demise had left him in charge of anyway. Which was exactly why leaving all that administrative crap to his fellow staff members for a while sounded like heaven right now. "Besides, Ororo and Hank said they'd be fine if things here would take longer than expected."

"We're in our uniforms, Slim. I don’t got as much as a toothbrush on me." Logan was still bracing himself on the open passenger door as if he feared Scott would drive right off into the sunset if he sat down.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's gonna be a problem for a feral who's lived on the street for fifteen years. You know, we're in Canada. I heard they have grocery shops here. Fashion stores, even." Scott felt amused more than offended that his lover was being so reluctant about this. He'd known what he would get himself into falling in love with that rough-edged grump as they'd bonded over their shared grief after Alkali Lake. Arguments, diametrically differing opinions on everything from battle strategies to world politics, the occasional screaming match, and especially the fantastic make-up sex afterward were basically part of their relationship identity. The mere fact that they were working out so perfectly anyway proved they'd rightly embarked on this weird, risky adventure together back then. Celebrating that a little with a road trip which was one of their favorite shared hobbies as it was, listening to some good tune, having a couple of disgustingly unhealthy meals in the cheapest road joints possible, and checking in the most dubious motels night after night? As perfect as could get for the two of them. And Scott luckily knew by now how to make his stubborn boyfriend – his husband, Jesus, that thought would still need some time to get used to – see certain things his way. "Who knows, we might even come by an adult store or two. The good thing about hotel rooms?" He leaned over to the passenger seat to be able to look up at Logan with one eyebrow lewdly raised, licking his lips as he slowly eyed his lover from top to bottom, lingering on his midsection for just a second too long where he was pretty sure, the tight black leather of Logan's suit was about to get a little too tight, judging by Logan's slightly choppy breathing. "No nosy pupils with enhanced senses nearby and no immediate neighbors complaining about too-thin walls. Meaning, we can be as loud as we want."

Logan was so fast to get in the car beside him suddenly that it quietly rattled under his adamantium-enhanced weight. "Fine. What are we waiting for? Step on it, Slim."

Scott silently grinned to himself and did just that.

****

With Westchester briefly informed on the phone and no one there luckily seeming to suspect the real reason for Logan's and Scott's timeout, the shopping tour had gone as efficiently as expected as well. With the exception, of course, of an extra hour in said adult store that they'd deliberately entered separately, each leaving the shady one-story building with an inconspicuous brown bag of their own that didn’t reveal what delicious little surprises they held for the nights to come. And the first one of those was coming up in another hour or so already on the road if their electronic map wasn’t lying. Some acceptably clean spot by the roadside, judging by the customer reviews, where they wouldn’t have to listen to cockroach races all night but were very unlikely to be recognized by any non-existent high-profile guests for either their race or their public image. Just what they needed. Covering the miles in amicable silence, save for one of Logan's preferred classic rock discs in the player, Scott found he was really looking forward to relaxing together with his lover. For someone like him who needed well-laid-out plans, meticulous organization, and obsessive routines in everyday life to keep his body, his mind, and especially his gift under control, it had been a big step, letting Logan help him accept that not everything in life had to go according to firm schemes. And this … felt like one of the best of these rare decisions Scott had ever spontaneously made, ever since they'd brought him back at the time, after Phoenix, to a second life that he hadn’t been sure for a long while he deserved. It had been Logan, too, making it clear to Scott that being allowed to come back wasn’t about such ethereal moral questions. That all that counted was doing his best to help improve this world and not waste a single chance of finding something close to happiness in this new attempt at existence while he was at it. At least the latter was probably what they were up to right now. Without really thinking about it, Scott reached to his side to rest his hand on Logan's where it was unmoving on the instrument panel between them, shrugging in embarrassment when Logan snorted a smoke cloud at him. "Excess endorphins. Give me two days and I'll be back to normal."

"Hm." After a long squeeze, Logan let go of him, not quite unexpectedly, but made it a show to lean in closely and sniff at him exaggeratedly which promptly had a hint of heat rise under Scott's skin. Soon. "Nope, gotta disappoint you, Slim. No excess hormones. You're just a hopeless sap."

"Tell that to the people who keep yapping about the stick up my ass," Scott grumbled but quickly forgot about the little dig when Logan bent over to him even further for a kiss.

"Wasn’t complaining, was I?" Logan quickly backed away again, knowing exactly Scott wasn’t comfortable, not having his eyes on the street, even when it was a yawningly empty country road, with only tall oak trees left and right to see for miles. He teasingly patted Scott's hand on the stick, not quite reaching for it again though … That was until he turned his head back to the windshield and Scott saw his lover's narrow eyes suddenly go wide in the rear mirror, his hand immediately back on Scott's to slam that stick into parking position before Logan was even finished hissing out a warning. "Watch out!"

After years of working on one team with a feral, Scott had long stopped questioning such a tone of uncompromising certainty, even in situations when he couldn’t make out anything wrong whatsoever. Compared to someone like Logan, a normal mutant's senses, especially Scott's, thanks to his limited vision, would always be ridiculously inferior. He strongly doubted that his partner would have taken over the jeep from him just to avoid running some squirrel over, being so perfectly aware of exactly that dependency on control Scott had just been reminiscing about. Sadly, he already knew said control was lost for now before bringing his heel down on the brakes, years-long trained instincts of an avid speed racer and pilot kicking in as the car started to drift, dangerously close to the massive tree trunks lining the road. The telltale bangs and jerks of blown tires promptly said, they'd not been fast enough, avoiding the almost invisible trap on the road from whoever was trying to stop them. Scott had only his own instincts and muscle memory from countless simulations and similar attacks to thank for not crashing the damn jeep right against the next tree. Somehow, he managed to have it spin a few times only, the bumpy ride of the still slowing vehicle pressing both Logan and him painfully into their belts before they finally came to a halt. With his head still on that carousel and the pressure from those tremors throbbing behind his forehead, Scott needed a moment to blink his vision as free as his gift allowed, to notice they were back in the direction they'd been driving in and on the right side of the road. And that was where the good news ended.

More than a dozen burly shapes in unmarked black suits were approaching from afar, the menacing blinking of more than one huge weapon in the fading sunlight revealing, the attack had only just begun. Whoever was out to get them this time and had somehow found them in the middle of fucking nowhere – Scott made a frustrated mental note to check the car for trackers as he shook off the last disorientation with gritted teeth –, they were obviously ignorant to details like newlyweds' bliss and honeymoon peace.

His ever-simmering anger on the assholes of this damn world immediately rising to new levels, Scott let out a huff, shaking his head when Logan held out his VISOR from the glove box for him in a reflex long become routine between them in the field. Much as Scott appreciated it, taking his eyes off the damn surroundings even for a split second right now was indeed a very bad idea. He knew before he even saw one of the enemies in the distance raise something long and sharp high over his shoulder. One hand already on the control in the middle of the wheel that changed the car's everyday functions to battle mode, he took another split second to swipe over the button nearby that would activate auto repairs. The at least remotely soothing sound of suppressed vacuum and alien tech mechanics inside the ruined wheels revealed, the almost-crash at least hadn’t shredded all most crucial functions. Including, hopefully, the protection of the thrice-reinforced material shielding their ride from outside threats, but they couldn’t rely on that. Therefore, Scott was only too happy to follow Logan's next warning too, his partner having spotted the incoming projectile just like he had, and crouched down towards the door with his head low. Just in time before the ominous tearing and bursting of their windshield giving in sounded and a sharp-edged shower of glass rained down on Scott's back and side, on the back of his unprotected hand where immediately a sharp twinge arose. No time to look, to bother. So much for reinforced glass. At least Logan's perfectly right reaction had protected them from having shards all over their faces, too, and the cover allowed Scott to switch his glasses for his main weapon of defense, finally … Which would be of absolutely no use at all in this situation as he had to learn, sitting up again, his hand already on the control wheel of his VISOR to fire a first broad salvo at their quickly approaching enemies. Nothing was happening, except the sudden almost painful overload of brightness and color rushing in on his depowered eyes through the small opening of his VISOR sent yet another cruel stab through his brain. The worry for his partner was far worse though, growing by a thousand when Scott turned his head with a surprised hiss to look at whatever their enemies had thrown at them and saw a thin, long rod that had neatly pierced the backseat. Lodged between his partner and him, it blinked in a well-known, hated flash of red.

Inhibitor missile. There weren’t many hostile groups on this planet who had these kinds of weapons.

"Don't." Immediately catching on as well, Logan almost brutally reached for Scott's wrist when Scott tried to grab that damn thing to hurl it far from the car, get rid of the invisible radiation that rendered both of their gifts useless. "Such spears always got contact fuses. You pull that from where it hit, chances are this thing blows us both to pieces." His upper lip drawn back behind his teeth in a display of threatening loss of control, loud growls escaping his throat, Logan's hands were hard fists already but his claws stayed where they were. Experience had taught them painfully that without his healing factor, the blood loss from using his own main weapons thoughtlessly could easily take Logan prematurely out of a fight … And this was not something either of them needed when they were up against a whole Weapon X squad. "Stay put. I'll be right back. You keep your head down, Slim," Logan snapped at him before Scott had even opened his mouth to protest. "They're armed to their teeth. You don't even got some damn Kevlar on. I was promised honeymoon sex, I'm not carrying you out of here full of holes."

"And I'm not losing you to these assholes again. You know exactly they're not here for me. Stay on your ass, Claws," Scott shouted at him at least as pissed but not half as out of it. Not while there were still fortunately other ways to deal with all this than having to fear for his lover's life, freedom, and sanity once again. "I'm taking us out of here. You keep watching them. Tell me if they try anything funny. L.U.C.Y., status report."

Logan, visibly tempted to just jump out of the car anyway, froze with a look of bewilderment when the holo surface of the car's artificial intelligence came to live above the dashboard, a list of green or yellow arrows indicating, most of the car's other functions, too, were indeed still working, in spite of one window less and their tires only just being replaced by the spare set inside. As it dawned on him Scott wasn’t just being latently suicidal, ignoring a group of enemies with all kinds of hypermodern guns getting closer, but that he did have a plan that included far fewer bullets and blades for him to pry from Logan's body afterward, a weak grin appeared on Logan's lips. Along with the shadow of a bad conscience about his usual utter lack of interest in the X-Men's technology options that Scott had included even in their rides over the course of the years. Which in this case might be saving their asses. "You call it L.U.C.Y.?"

"Shut up and look like you're about to pounce them." Scott had to fight back a grin on his own. This was still potentially going south, but at least it would be fun. "Can't have them interfere." He'd rarely been more grateful before for a few very generous additional technical gifts from Stark Tower in the last few years since his resurrection in which not least the X-Men's competitive team had had a hand in. Tony's user surfaces were much easier for humans to navigate than the Shi’ar holo controls which in a situation like this when it was about seconds only, saved crucial time. Scott impatiently wiped his red-stained hand on his jeans, grimacing at the renewed pain before he swiped in another fast string of commands. With tight lips, from the corner of his eyes only, he watched Logan get up on his seat, half leaning out of the ruined window with his claws now threateningly out after all, more blood dripping over the hood's beige paint as his lover was clearly signaling their enemies that he had no intention of backing down and rolling over, just because his powers weren’t working as they should. It was a sight that shouldn’t be half as hot as it was right now. But making the best of every second also included, Scott supposed, committing a perfect view like of his lover's firm ass in tight jeans, for once undisturbed by the usual red of Scott's powers, to memory while the vehicle computer processed his commands. "We're good. Head down," he shouted when the warm female voice of his artificial assistant confirmed that they were ready to go. "All the way down. They're not gonna be happy, and we're not bulletproof right now," he added tightly, pulling Logan with him to cower behind the dashboard a second time. "Cover your ears. L.U.C.Y., engage." Not a second later, the car's external boxes sent a shrill sound, recorded from one of their possible future team members, across all of the nearby surroundings, hurtful to their own ears, too, in spite of protection.

But not half as much as to their enemies who were immediately stopped in their approach. Screams of agony filled the air, another couple of badly aimed projectiles hitting the jeep. Only primitive bullets this time, either stopped easily by the reinforced bodywork or hitting high above their heads, getting stuck in the robust leather of their seats.

And that was when the autopilot got them back going. The moment they'd passed a sharp turn a couple of feet ahead, the prepared hyperdrive mode was activated, and the jeep left their enemies far behind before the soldiers had even gotten back to their feet. A far too merciful hit for these motherfuckers actually, as Scott bitterly thought when he scrambled to sit up again once they were far enough from the hostiles, relieved to take the wheel again. Another day, in another kind of confrontation he wouldn’t have hesitated to turn this thing back around and get rid of these people, making as many prisoners as possible for questioning before giving them to S.H.I.E.L.D. for further prosecution … But a fight against Weapon X never went without casualties. He was just as little interested in spending their honeymoon on some sick bay as Logan was … or worse. Today, they'd been lucky, honestly.

And Scott was obviously not the only one harboring such gloomy thoughts. Once he'd parked the car in some well-hidden clearing at a safe distance from the site of attack and L.U.C.Y.'s external sensors confirmed, there weren’t any enemies or hostile vehicles anywhere in the air or on the ground, Logan was in a remarkable hurry to leave the car for a cigar. He also had the badly hidden excuse of wanting to provisionally repair the ruined windshield with some transparent cover from the trunk.

Scott let him go for the moment because knowing when to give his lover some space was something he'd learned early on in this relationship. He used the time to disinfect and bandage the cut on his hand and, with it somewhat properly usable again, find a couple of tools from the glove box. With the necessary silence and focus on the task, it was a piece of cake, taking apart the enemies' weapon, deactivating the dangerous explosive inside along with the inhibitor function. Only moments later, Scott could feel the usual pressure and sting behind his forehead returning that announced, his gift was back. He closed his eyes with a sigh somewhere between decades-old resignation and relief before slipping his glasses back on, the last of the crisis being taken care of, and for once without any damage to speak of. At least not any outside one. "We should get going," he said hesitatively when Logan made no move to come back to the car from where he was leaning against some tree, the makeshift repair long done.

It didn’t escape Scott that his lover's hand was still slightly shaking though the wounds from his claws were now closed, and that Logan was still a good deal too pale under his rugged beard. Encounters with Weapon X tended to do that, and Scott had little interest in risking yet another one today.

"They could still be nearby."

"Which is why you should leave," Logan said flatly, almost coldly, to Scott's shock, staring down at his cigar as if he'd never seen one before, just to avoid looking Scott in the eye. And suddenly Scott felt like he couldn’t breathe. "Drive to the nearest town, call the others. Have them get you with the jet. I'll take care of these bastards. See if they got a base nearby, tear it to the ground. I want as many of them gone as possible. I'll be fine; don’t look at me like that. Powers are long back."

"Until these guys shoot the next inhibitor spear right through your guts, yeah. Not happening. Seeing that one time still haunts my dreams." Scott wearily rubbed his eyes behind his glasses and got out of the car, with a mental note about a painkiller or two in his immediate future when he used the wrong hand for the handle. Definitely not like he'd pictured this afternoon to go … And yet he was glad that Logan wasn’t entirely shutting down or just running like he would have in the past, actually giving Scott a chance to get through to his thick head. Emma would have called that progress or something. "We talked about this often enough, Logan. Destroying a couple of their pawns and single locations doesn’t do shit with an underground organization that large. Weapon X is a project that we've been working on taking down for years, and not only us. One day, they'll be gone, I promised you that." Leaning against the tree opposite Logan's, Scott reached out for another of these encouraging squeezes of his lover's hand, not too surprised when Logan immediately pulled away once more. This wouldn’t be that easy, not after a fight like this. "Until then, I refuse to let these assholes ruin our lives. We got more fun plans this week than bathing in blood and biting a couple of bullets."

"Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake," Logan answered even more quietly, his shoulders tightly drawn in when Scott drew a sharp, hurt breath. "Look, I'm sorry, Slim. You know how crazy I am about your stupid ass. But you almost just got blown to bits because I had mercenaries on my neck. I always got mercenaries on my neck. You'll never be safe as long as you you're with me."

"Safe." It took a lot not to get pissed enough to shoot his partner right in the dick just on principle for this sudden bout of overprotectiveness. Seeing that haunted look in his beautiful hazel eyes when Scott slowly stepped closer, resting his hands left and right of Logan's head on that trunk, helped at least keep his voice to a low hiss. "I'm being hunted by an all-powerful mad scientist obsessed with my mutation every fucking year for my birthday. I'm fighting shapeshifters, ferals thrice your size, and element masters on a weekly basis, with just a bit of lightning show from my eyes, ever since I was fifteen, for a humanity that would rather lock me up or slit my throat than thank me for it. I'm getting beaten up when I'm entering a damn booze store if I'm not careful because every fucking bigot on this planet knows my mug thanks to these damn glasses. My ex-wife is a possessed almighty cosmic fire demon that might or not come back anytime to rip me right back into particles. My ex-girlfriend is a powerful telepath thirsting for world dominance and rolling for a new moral compass as a first option every other month. Please, Logan, do tell me again how you can get me in danger."

Logan tiredly raised the hand not holding his cigar to Scott's bloodstained shirt, clenching it around those ruined buttons, keeping him on a few last inches of distance left, visibly fighting himself. "You don’t get it, Scooter. None of these people are Weapon X. Nothing of all this …" He paused, struggling with words, when Scott only raised an eyebrow at him, still not ready to let something come between them, just when they'd been closer than ever today. "Of all the shit shows that you and I saw out there, these people are the only ones who ever managed to get inside my head. They controlled me once, Scott, don't you get what that means? They have the power to make me the one thing I'm terrified of. And if that ever happens again, if they manage to lock my mind up again … Then you know where they'll send me for the first kill."

"Probably, yes," Scott nodded calmly, a bitter smile on his lips when Logan quietly gasped, obviously not having expected him to be so sober about this worst possibility of all.

"And what exactly will you do then when I'm standing in front of your house, threatening our children?" Logan urged, desperation in his voice as he tried in vain to get himself to shove Scott away, his hand tensing again and again without the necessary force. He couldn’t, as much as he wanted to, as afraid as he was of this worst-case scenario, and that alone let Scott know, they had made the right choice today.

He leaned in without hesitation to capture Logan's lips in a soft kiss, glad when his lover made no more move to pull away. "Then I'll do exactly what I did with those assholes back there before you can even come inside."

"Is that a promise?" Only now, that veil of panicked concern lifted a little from Logan's distorted features.

"If you need one. This is the day for oaths, isn’t it?" Scott asked cynically. "So here you have another one: Once I've shot you down and I got you knocked out, trussed up and hooked to an IV of narcotics, I'll take you to Emma so she can deprogram you. And if Emma isn’t around I'll find someone else to get the job done. Ever until you're back with me. If you think I'm ever letting that cute ass of yours walk away from me again, you got another think coming, James Summers."

Logan winced a little, very obviously not used to that new official name yet that his documents would soon sport, but when an askew grin curled on his lips, it seemed sincere. "You're fantasizing about my ass an awful lot for a guy covered in blood with a butchered hand."

"I don't need my hand to eat you alive," Scott answered sweetly before leaning down for another kiss that had nothing of the innocent nature of the last one though, his body instinctively pressing Logan's smaller, broader one against the rough bark as his tongue deeply invaded Logan's mouth, tasting the last of adrenaline, ash and that expensive bourbon from the ceremony earlier. A hum of anticipation came from his lips when he lost himself to the fantasy of all the things they'd be getting up to once they'd arrive at that motel. Starting with indeed a very badly needed shower hopefully taken together. And once Scott would have Logan splayed out on some terrible rose petal-covered mattress all naked and flushed … The alluring image in his mind turned into an unexpected rush of energy in his veins as Logan used the moment of him not being on alert, to take the lead.

His hand on Scott's shirt slipping between those buttons and easily ripping them apart for a first greedy caress, a harsh grip found his behind, kneading in that hard, slow way, clever fingertips already slipping between his legs from behind that always had Scott boneless within seconds.

His head suddenly spinning even more than after that crash earlier, he moaned against Logan's lips, the skeptical voice inside his head very quiet that pointed out that they were in public, as Logan impatiently worked his hand under Scott's jeans and underwear. Fuck that. L.U.C.Y.'s scanners were still activated and programmed to warn about any life sign in the immediate surroundings. Not everything needed to happen in proper order indeed. Distracted by the growing hardness not only under his own pants, Scott willingly let himself be walked back the few steps to their car, both his hands buried in Logan's hair, panting, only stopping to frown when the back of his thighs hit the car's hood because he'd assumed Logan had the backseat in mind, or maybe the truck bed … He should know his passionate lover better by now, especially when they were both pumped full of battle adrenaline and in dire need to forget what had almost just happened back there on that road.

Logan smoothly going to his knees in front of him already, ripping his pants open, such considerations were forgotten for good. A hot velvety mouth was wrapped around Scott's cock without much ado, without any games that out here, in spite of all goodwill to let his hair down a little, didn’t have a place.

His hands tightening on Logan's unruly hair, Scott threw his head back with a turned-on shout when his lover took him right in all the way, swallowing around him greedily. A clear gesture of an elbow at the inside of his thighs nudged his legs further apart, the assault of soft wetness along with a harsh grip around his tightening balls far too overwhelming for now to even think of returning the favor.

The telltale sound of some cap opening provoked the memory of leaving that adult shop earlier, of Scott seeing Logan pocket something from the corner of his eyes … Of course, the sly bastard had had planned something for this first day of the rest of their lives together.

Scott scrambled to reach back for the hood, trembling, bracing himself there because he was pretty sure he would have hurt Logan, holding on to him as the beloved touch of clever, slick fingertips found his tense cheeks, going between them just as purposefully as the rest of this little unexpected encounter shaped out to be. After all these nights spent together, Logan needed less than a minute before he had Scott push down against two thick, quickly thrusting fingers with hardly suppressed moans, writhing on the cool, hard surface, the repeated firm pressure against his most sensitive spot inside soon making him leak thick white into the heavenly suction of Logan's mouth. The beautiful light of the descending sun in the sky was a dear, fresh memory beyond what Scott could make out from behind his glasses when he leaned his head back out of breath, his nails scraping over the paint as he tried to keep himself from getting too carried away. "Fuck … Logan … Please …"

"On it, Slim." With one smooth motion, Logan was back standing before him, grabbing his hips, his arm, in an alluringly easy display of strength to flip him around before Scott had taken as much as one breath to suggest something maybe less out in the open …

If he was being honest, even a few steps to the back of the car would have been far too much right now. With his lover's large, strong hands on his hips, he willingly raised them when he felt the oiled touch of something thick throbbing between his cheeks. An uncontrolled groan came from his lips when that pressure grew, slowly enough but without stopping until he had to bury his face against his elbow to stifle his noises, his body shaking from that perfect sensation of being filled so thoroughly. With Logan's hand back on his own raging erection, shielding him from unpleasant bruises from the car hood thanks to his lover's harsh, quick thrusts, it was less than half an embarrassing minute before Scott spilled all over his lover's hand with his name on his lips, one hand so tightly around a wiper that he almost ripped it off, his muscles clenching down so firmly once more that he could feel Logan empty himself deep inside him almost at the same moment. So. That was what they called consummating a marriage when a feral was involved.

*****

"I still think it might be better if we went home." After checking in, getting sufficiently clean, and with a few carbs from the truck stop on the way in their stomachs, Logan at least approached the subject of their honeymoon a lot more rationally than in the woods earlier. It was obvious he'd used the half an hour for a smoke alone outside that he'd been asking Scott for, to think. The sigh on his lips when he sat down on the bed next to Scott sounded honestly unhappy. "With that wreck of a car, we're not exactly inconspicuous, you know."

"I just checked." Scott held up his phone and showed Logan a spot on the maps program he'd marked, not five minutes from here. "Garage to rent. I already made reservations. I'll have this baby back to factory default within a day, don’t worry. And we'll be all alone, so you can spend that time ogling my ass. Or give me a hand. Whatever you prefer. So once we got tired of watching the Red Sox fucking up, we'll be ready to move on to the next place."

"Burgers, baseball, and shop, huh?" Logan remarked with half a smirk, easily convinced. "Not exactly what most people usually do after tying the knot, I guess."

"Good thing, too. Most people, I don’t want to be married to." Scott itched to pull Logan in for a kiss but he still had his hand under the blanket, holding a certain something that he'd been preparing in these minutes alone, and he hadn’t quite mustered up the guts yet to take it out.

"Speaking of it, Slim …" To his surprise, it was Logan who suddenly fumbled with something in the pocket of his brand-new shirt. The shitty lighting of the run-down room made it hard to tell, just like the obstacle of Scott's glasses, but he could almost have sworn, his dear husband was just about to blush. "Talked to Hank when you were in the shower. Had him finish something he and I were talking about for a while. King Kong got Piotr's kid sister to bring it while I was outside. No freaking out now, please, this is just … Things were a little too close for my taste earlier." After another deep breath, Logan slowly opened his fist and presented Scott with a broad white gold ring, sized to fit his thumb and slightly thicker than normal jewelry as Scott immediately noticed, with his mouth ajar, when Logan laid the thing down between them. "It's got a transmitter inside that can be connected to your VISORs, to open them. Hank's also working on a version of glasses for you that can open similarly to a VISOR. He'll be done by the time we get home. I don't ever want to see you take a bullet just because you're wearing the wrong damn thing on your eyes or because you can't reach your control wheel."

"And here I was certain you'd gut me for the idea of ... uh … this." His hand no longer trembling, Scott finally raised it once he could trust his voice again, to show Logan the set of dog tags he'd found on their shopping trip earlier and engraved in those last thirty minutes alone, with the help of his blast, so that they now sported both Logan's new name and today's date. "Just a reminder," he added hesitantly when Logan took the pendant from him without a word, slowly turning it between his fingertips, lost in memory about the people, the place where he'd last gotten a thing like this. A thing that for so long had been a symbol of hope for his quest for his lost past, until he'd thrown it at Stryker's feet by Alkali Lake … It was something that Scott hoped could become such a beacon for Logan's endless, restless search again. Including the discreet reminder that he was no longer forced to go on it alone. "You don’t need to wear them if you don’t … I just thought …"

When Logan shut him up with a long, tender kiss, they took only just enough time to put on their respective improvised wedding jewelry before being all over each other for a second time today. There was no need for any more words this night.

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

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

[ameagrice]

Save Your Tears

eren jaeger x fem reader

chapter one

You were married on a warm, sunny spring day. Loose cherry blossom petals floated through the air of the church grounds you walked through, your newly-married husband’s hand in yours as you tipped your head back, eyes following the white and pink petals.

Goodness, had you ever been happier?

You remembered your eyes drifting from the tall trees above to your husband at your side, green eyes wide themselves in awe—the photo the photographer took was of this moment, and it would sit in a perfect wooden frame atop the fireplace for many, many years, lovingly dusted and carefully held by many.

He was there for the cutting of the cake. His hands carried you over the threshold of your home. He was there for the birth of your first child, two years later.

Respecting your space, you remembered the moments well, later on, on the nights he had your daughters. How his hand would gently lay atop of yours now and again; you’d opted for kneeling on the floor, arms folded on the bed before you, head on your arms. Sometimes, throughout the long, sixteen-hour period, Eren would whisper sweet words, small hymns of you’ve got this and nearly there.

He let you your peace and time with the child you spent months carrying, before even thinking of accepting his own time with her. Always thoughtful, Eren was. And you couldn’t thank him enough.

But…coming home was when the hard part began.

The two of you struggled on less sleep. Arguments started quicker than flint could start a fire. Your handsome husband grew wearier by the day, exhausted physically, emotionally, mentally, and you were on parr with him.

You’d thought it might have started to pick up when she started at daycare. But the case wasn’t so.

Maybe it was you. You worried and panicked and asked a million questions. Tears weren’t uncommon, nor was the low mood. Eren told you to seek help—even said he’d come with you to the doctor, he just wanted to help.

You asked him for another, when she reached three. But when baby number two arrived, a sudden arrival in your home, and another year passed, you couldn’t handle it anymore.

You wanted quiet, and you wanted life to be less. The arguing with Eren became boring, and exhausting; there was no effort there anymore. He snapped, you yelled, and it only took a single broken glass, knocked by accident off the side table, for you to realise this was it. Maybe you weren’t meant to be.

Nonetheless, thick droplets of tears still slipped down both of your cheeks as you sat side-by-side in the legal office, pen shaking in your hand as you signed your name and signature, and the date. You couldn’t look at him as you handed it over to your husband. Eren copied suit, and slid the papers and pen back over to the suit on the other side of the desk.

He signed it. Three times. In three different places.

The wind howled. The sky was grey. And you paused on the steps of the court building, watching your now-ex-husband walk away. Black pants, a white shirt to his elbows, and chocolate-coloured hair swept by the wind, you couldn’t help the sob leaving your mouth. Eren kept walking.

Forehead against the wheel of your car, you wept.

Tonight was a quiet night. It left a lot of room to reminisce and think. The girls were of course with Eren, who now lived an two hours away by car, in the city, and he’d bring them back in the morning for their school show.

Often he worked away—being in the military was no small feat, nor did it mean being lazy—and no matter how much he wanted to come to their school and nursery plays, and to take them out for the day, he just wasn’t given half a chance.

After dropping them home one day a few weeks ago, he mentioned on your doorstep that there’d be a patrol exercise to a place called Marley, a peacekeeping mission of sorts. You knew what Marley was like—he’d been on a short tour the months before you divorced—so you worried in what state you’d find him. But you met him halfway at a gas station, a small place by the sea close to where your first trip together had been, and subtly checked for anything off as you handed him the girls’ things. Those bright green eyes remained bright; his smile was soft when he looked at you; and most importantly, he looked healthy. It could have something to do with the Marleyan sun, and having to stand on patrol for twelve or so hours a day through vast cities and towns, but he was built well, always slim, but always strong. His dark hair had been cut short, still long enough to sweep with the wind over his forehead, perfect nose tanned and dotted with light freckles here and there.

Maisie sat cradled in your arms, her head against your heart, barely awake. She turned two while Eren was away, so you knew she’d be spoiled by his family the second she got to his house. Five-year-old Lia held her dad’s hands in both of hers, pressing her face into his stomach, smiling.

“How have they been?” He asked, smiling softly, swaying with Lia gently. “I was gonna call last night but I fell asleep before I got chance to.”

You sighed, shifting Maisie. “It’s the terrible twos with this one right now so uh, she might be a handful. Maisie hasn’t stopped talking about you one bit. She’s really missed you, Eren.” You lifted your eyes from your daughter’s chocolate hair, the same as his, to your ex-husband. A pang of something ran along your heart; it always did, when it came to Eren.

“Tantrums?” He raised a brow.

“About everything. She tried to kick an old lady in the grocery story because she called her cute.” You grinned, thinking back to a few days ago. “So she didn’t get the dolly she wanted, and I’m sure you can guess how the rest went.”

He leaned down to kiss Lia on the head. “I can imagine exactly how it went. But I think this one’s tired, so we better get going.”

“Do you want me to put Maisie in her seat, or?…”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it. We’ve got it, haven’t we Lia Loo.”

Lia giggled, beaming, before turning around to squeeze you tight around the stomach. You dropped to one knee to face her—this was the hard part of leaving them.

You met Lia’s eyes, and they began to water. She threw one arm around your shoulder and the other around her sister, who was starting to blink, properly awake. “I love you,” you muttered, your lips pressing the spot above her ear. “I love you so much.”

Although muffled, her face buried in your shirt, she repeated back, “I love you, Mommy.”

Your heart seized in your chest, throat clogged up with emotion. Behind her, Eren looked away, suddenly not smiling anymore, swallowing hard.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? But for now you’re going to have so much fun with Dad, alright? You’ll see Nannie Carla and Uncle Zeke, and Mr. Pennycrumb.”

Nevermind the mention of her favourite grandma and uncle—Mr. Pennycrumb, Eren’s tiny teacup pup, a Maltese terrier—was the thing needed to win her over. A dog perfect for two tiny children.

“I miss you when you’re not there,” she sighed, in a way which told you it was down to the bone. And your mom-guilt doubled, because it was your fault you weren’t with her dad. It was you who wanted the divorce—he just went along with what would make you happy.

“I miss you too, all the time.” You nuzzled your nose playfully against hers so she giggled. “But you’re going to have so much fun at daddy’s.”

Before anyone could get too teary, you sent her off to jump in the car with her princess backpack, and Eren approached you, eyes flitting across your face. He came close, and you felt your breath hitch as he reached for Maisie and the back of his hand brushed your collarbone. She smiled sleepily, uttering a quiet dad, reaching out her hands for him.

Taking her into his arms, your heart dropped with not only sadness but love. It was hard to see them together and not feel anything, for the man who was once your everything. Your baby with a man you still loved in a light, distanced way. You’d only been apart a year, in which you managed to drag yourself from the mental depths of the lowest of lows. A year wasn’t long enough to get rid of any feelings, and it was clear in the way Eren gazed at you that he felt the same.

“How’re you doing?” He asked carefully.

“Truthfully,” you answered firmly, taking Maisie’s hand in yours. “Better. I’m getting there.”

Eren softly smiled. You knew you looked better—you’d put on a healthy amount of weight after you lost it all to PPD, lack of energy and appetite. You felt better in yourself—the way you looked, and the way you felt.

“Good,” he nodded. “I’m glad.”

You nodded too, and for a moment, it was as if it was just the two of you.

But you returned your attention to the child in his arms, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek quickly. “I love you, Mais,” you whispered, and she smiled, uttering a childish version back, words not fully formed.

“I’ll meet you at yours, then? In the morning?”

Yours. Not home.

He’d let you keep the house for the girls, after all.

You nodded. “Sure. I think it starts at one so if you want to come round at like eleven or something for them to settle in that’s fine.”

Earlier than you’d usually asked. Eren nodded. “Sure. I’ll call you before bed for them.”

And thus, you went your separate ways.

At night the longing began. Longing for your girls to be home, longing for the family you once thought you’d be. Eren hadn’t started a new one, and neither had you. You wouldn’t dare dream of if. A year after your divorce, you still loved Eren. At the time you’d not thought of it, going through the motions of post-partum depression, focusing on trying to feed your children and get through the day. But now, in a better place than you were, you sometimes wished you’d never asked for a divorce. But what would he care now, even if you tried to become close once more? It had been a slip-up, a rocky path in your relationship, one that could have been fixed with a bit of perseverance and your own acceptance of help, you saw that now. Eren wanted you to be happy, and you told him that leaving him, having space, would be the answer to that.

You hoped somewhere inside him, he knew you didn’t mean it. It had been a blip, a mistake; you’d just been too in your head and down to realise it. No amount of asking could change your mind.

With quiet in the house, and a long day tomorrow, you decided to get your head down early, and fell into a light sleep, still in mom mode even with no children around.

You were up and tidying before the sun even rose. It was a morning where you were naturally awake with your body clock anyway, so after spending a few hours awake in bed, you finally got up at five thirty, and set about tidying and dressing for the day. And it wasn’t long before the doorbell rang, the frosted glass in the front door showing the silhouettes of your children and Eren.

With a smile, you opened the door.

Before you could even open your mouth, Lia threw herself at you, arms tight around you stomach. “Hi, mom!”

“Hey! You okay?”

She hummed brightly. “Just missed you.”

“That’s okay,” you turned your gaze to your younger daughter, her hands tucked to her chest and tight under Eren’s chin. Sleeping soundly.

Your breath depleted, lungs practically emptying when you landed your eyes on him. Nothing about him had changed in a year. The same jeans and jumper, the same coat, and god—the smile killed you off every time.

“You wanna come in?” You asked. Not the first time, but it wasn’t exactly common these days.

Eren visibly relaxed. “Sure, yeah.”

In some ways, it felt wrong to invite him into a house he once lived in but gave up for you, for your comfort. At the same time, it was almost therapeutic for your family to be together all at once. Lia kicked off her shoes and sprinted up the carpeted staircase, backpack making a racquet as she went. You closed the door gently behind Eren, watching as he stood silent in the hallway, looking at the pictures on the walls. For the sake of the girls, you kept up the family pictures——Lia and Eren in the sea during a day out to the beach; baby Maisie and Eren and yourself on the day she was born. But your wedding day photographs were gone from the mantelpiece in the living room. Your first vacation with Eren was stored in a cupboard somewhere upstairs. Even if you weren’t together anymore, it didn’t mean things never happened, and you wanted to keep the keepsakes safe. Maybe, if the day came where you met another man, you would take Eren’s photographs down. But for now, as you lived alone, you didn’t want to erase the girls’ moments with Eren from their lives. It wasn’t fair.

“Do you want a drink or anything? We’ve got an hour and a half before we have to take Lia over,” you said, trailing past him and into the kitchen. Since the last time he was over, three months ago at least, you had painted the kitchen walls from a pale, baby-blue to a robins-egg-green. You still weren’t sure on it.

“Yeah, I don’t mind. Coffee?”

“Sure.”

Your words weren’t spoken unkindly, or without softness, but they lacked surety. Both of you remained conflicted on just how you felt.

You talked like you’d never been apart, when he asked about work and you asked about his military friends; Mikasa, Armin, Pieck. Apparently Pieck had been injured over in Marley and was taking time off for R&R, and Jean was still recovering from his comrade, Marco’s, death, in the same way Eren had been months back. Apparently Marley trudged up a lot of memories for everyone. You’d attended his funeral with Eren, since he’d been your friend, too, and for the first time since your divorce a few months before, you held hands, and wept together.

Eren let you take Maisie from him to set her in bed for a while before she had to go to daycare, while Lia played dolls in her room. Now and again, she’d run down the stairs and show her dad her new Barbie doll, or her build-a-bear’s new dress and hat combination, and he’d respond with comments like man, she needs to teach me the fashion secrets! and dude, I like what you’ve done with her hair. Very unique.

And when Lia ran back upstairs, it left you both in the quiet. You kept searching the way his eyes swept the mantelpiece—you’d put up a picture of yourself on a day out with the girls, a weekend trip camping with your parents to the North mountains. Where once people had picked up that photo frame and smiled, with words such as you’re perfect together, they frowned and asked, what happened?

“I haven’t had a chance to ask you properly,” Eren voiced, the elephant in the room. “Even though you’ve asked me.” He looked to you. “How are you really doing? You look better.”

You took a deep breath. “A lot better. Really. Things picked up after Marco’s funeral. I think it was the push I needed to actually get help. The girls couldn’t have you when you weren’t okay, and they needed someone to be there for them. So…I didn’t have much of a choice. But in some ways I’m glad it pushed me to get a move on and actually…you know…do something about my head.”

You lifted your eyes from the carpet, cup of tea held between your hands, to look at the man on the other sofa. Eren’s eyes were trained on the swing set outside, the one he put up on Lia’s second birthday. It was way too big at the time, since you’d confused it with another one you ordered while you were pregnant, but Eren, hammering it into the ground on that bright, sunny day, said with fondness that she’d grow into it, and she did.

There were pieces of your past still scattered around the house and outside of it. It affected you like it affected Eren. And it gave you the courage to say what you said next.

“I regret it, Eren.” He snapped his attention back to you. Your own eyes burned. “I was so confused and upset. And if I could take it back I would. And I’m sorry.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Me too. Sometimes I think about what I could have done. But you were adamant and I didn’t want you to feel worse than you already did. So…”

You heart pounded hard in your chest, as if it was dying to be broken out.

“I just wanted to tell you,” you muttered. “That if I could take it all back, I would.”

Lia played Mary, and boy she fancied in her class played Joseph. Afterward, at the small gathering to talk to your children before they went back to class, she talked with passion of how he smelled of Cheetos, and you shared a look with Eren—childhood crushes were strange.

The chatter surrounded you in the hall, shouting children and laughter, and parents talking over cups of tea and coffee. When the bell rang, signalling the start of the next class, Lia looked up to her dad.

“Are you going home with Mommy?”

Eren awkwardly looked to you, then shook his head. “No, baby. Not today.”

Instantly, her whole persona changed. Her smile turned to a deep frown, and her clasped hands in Eren’s suddenly reached around his middle. “But I wanted you to be there when I got home.”

Guilt punched you in the stomach, and you had to look away. It’s my fault.

“You’ll see me in a few days, I promise—”

“But I don’t want to wait days!” She cried.

“Class has started, mom and dad, if you’d like to let her go now.”

You spun on the spot, instantly souring. As much as you knew teachers had to do their job, nothing was more irritating than them telling you what to do when they could see something was happening.

“Yeah, she was just saying bye,” you smiled politely, trying not to be too stiff.

“Can we make it quick? I’m sure mom and dad will be at home for you, sweetie—”

Lia clung to Eren like a baby monkey to its mother. The teacher’s disapproval and tutting was starting fury in your stomach. Even Eren’s jaw was visibly clenched.

“Could you give us a few minutes, please?” Eren ground out, looking at her intently.

She sighed, and raised her wrist, where a watch sat. “Class has started—”

“Yeah,” you bit, “you’ve already said.”

“So she really needs to be on her way. Parents will be leaving here too—”

“She needs another five minutes with her dad before he has to go,” you cut in firmly. “Do you mind giving us some privacy, please.”

She didn’t look happy. Not one bit. But you weren’t backing down. This was between your family, not some busybody. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked off like she owned the place.

Eren kneeled to look Lia in the eyes, swallowing hard. “I’ll call you before bedtime, okay? And before you know it, it’ll be Friday, and I’ll be here to pick you up. I promise.”

Her eyes, the same colour as yours, turned glassy. But the hall was emptying, and you had to hurry for work.

“I love you, Lia. I love you so much.”

Again, the guilt gripped you. It shouldn’t be this way. Eren shouldn’t have had to be saying goodbye to his daughter on the floor of her school hall; he should have been coming home with you, ready to pick her up when the day ended.

It was your fault.

Somehow, you both managed to get her to class. Quietly, without words, you left the hall and began walking to your cars across the lot. Eren unlocked his but didn’t move to open the door, indicating he wanted to talk. So you waited, car keys clutched in both hands, blinking in the wind.

“My mom’s been asking about you,” he started, expression neutral. “How you’re doing.”

Carla Jaeger. She knew what you went through with Maisie’s difficult birth and post-partum-depression, and although she knew you’d filed for divorce to her son, she wasn’t particularly hard on you for it. She’d been through it herself with Eren.

“Will you tell I said I hope she’s alright? Havent had much time to call people with work and school and things. I know the girls missed her.”

He nodded, eyes calm. “I will.”

For a few seconds, you both stood together, just parents, talking.

“I’m off this week,” he said. “I was thinking, if you wanted to, I could take the girls out one day? I know they’re over on Friday night so maybe Saturday or something?”

Smiling, you nodded small. “Yeah, whatever you want to do. As long as they’re happy, I’m happy. Anyway, I gotta go to work. I’ll call you later for the girls.”

Little did you know, you’d be awake all night, thinking about your past with him.

[imthebadguyyy]

Loved your first fic of Lewis!💛

Can you make one where Lewis Hamilton and Y/N have a fight and have been living separately and then Lewis comes to meet Y/N one evening and makes an excuse that his toothbrush is with Y/N? And then Lewis confronts Y/N that he knows Y/N still love him but won't admit?

..

* I know this is a very specific prompt. Bare with me. I just wanted more Angst/ Fluff with Longing for each other and Deep feelings and keep it Non-explicit. *

A/N - I'm so glad you liked the fic 😊

We're Meant To Be

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (female)

Fandom - F1

Summary - After a messy fight, you don't know where your relationship stands. But when love is that strong, an argument can't stand in the way.

Warnings - Angst, fighting, swearing

Angered shouts. Tears of frustration. White noise. Desperate pleads. And then silence. That's what your neighbours would describe if they were asked to describe what they had heard from your house. An argument that seemed to have started over nothing, had blown up into a full scale fight. When had it become this bad? Only yesterday, you two had had a date night at home, with movies and wine. Everything was perfect. But then, suddenly everything seemed to go down a downward spiral.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had always been calm, it had been the type of love where you just loved each other with all your hearts, where fights were an incredibly rare appearance. You were both working, and he was away at races most of the time, so usually, you didn't waste time fighting, something that was an unnecessary waste of time in your opinion. But then, something had just switched for a second. It was after the race in Baku, and it hadn't gone well. Lewis had been heartbroken, after coming P15, and had heavily berated himself for it. To make him feel better, you had taken a couple of days off work. to just be with him and give him company to feel better.

It had been on the third day of you spending time with him that he had made an offhand comment that had struck a nerve with you. "I wish you could be there at race weekends more often. It's like you don't care enough about the races" The comment had pissed you off, to put it lightly. "What do you mean, I don't care about the races? I watch all of them Lewis, I'm always supporting you" you had practically seethed at him. "Don't get all huffy, darling, all I'm saying is that the other girlfriends and wives come quite often, but you only come to like three races a year" he had said, already regretting his words. "Maybe that's because I have a job?! I work for my living, and I love my job. I don't have time to fly around the world to accompany you to your races, and its damn hard to get leave off of work anyway, I was lucky to even get a week off of work, and you want me to be there every weekend? It's not possible for a working person, Lewis" you had said, anger bubbling in your voice, pulling away from him to sit up straight. "I know, I just meant-" "No, I know what you meant. I'm sorry I can't always be there, and don't you think I feel bad when I can't be there for you ?" "I know you do, I shouldn't have brought this up. But can you come for the next race?" He had asked, not looking at your eyes, regretting the answer. "I... can't. I have a really big meeting coming up and-" "And you can't come I get it"

And he had just left. You had felt your heart shatter, hating yourself for being so harsh with him. But it was true, you were a very hardworking person, and you had worked damn hard to get to where you were, successful at your job, one of the best in your field. It took years of hard work and perseverance and you were proud of it. But a part of you also knew that Lewis didn't deserve any of the crap you had given him, and you also knew that he was right, the other guys had their partners to support them during various race weekends, and you only showed up to one or two of them. He was well in his rights to tell you that. And you hated how it had ended.

You all alone, in your house, in a cold and empty bed, in a quiet house with silence that was much, much more deafening than words ever could be. It was heartbreaking, to see a future you had dreamed of just shattering in front of your eyes, dreams of having a family of your own with him fluttering away like wisps of smoke, the burning flames leaving only a heartbroken mess of a human being behind. Was that what it felt like? To be burned and left to turn to ashes, when a person that knew exactly how to ignite your flame just left you to burn away? To have someone who could ignite your all consuming passion, and turn you to putty in his hands, who could mould you back into shape, leave you to melt into a liquid through his fingers to just lay on the ground, a sad, broken, person.

And here you were, lying on your bed, the sheets that had warmed the both of you on cold nights, or been home to your pleasure laced activities now offering only some of the warmth it used to, cold and unforgiving, as you turned your pillow for the fifteenth time, neither side cool anymore. Even the pillow didn't want to forgive you, the sweat settling in on your neck again, beads of sweat running down your forehead again. The pulled curtains shielded you from the over bright sunshine, your damp hair sticking to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes, red rimmed and tired, shut to protect them from the faint light in the room, the tiredness not permitting you to even open them to look in the dim light of your room.

Somewhere near you, your phone buzzed again, for what felt like the hundredth time in three days. It had been three days, three long, painful days since you and Lewis had fought and not seen each other, and those 72 hours had ripped a part of your soul out. You had spent those three days in bed, your leave days still saving you from getting out of bed and dragging your body to office. Was your relationship over? Were you never going to meet the love of your life, the man you were destined to be with again? Sighing, you rolled over, pushing the damp strands of hair away from your face. Using strength you didn't know you had, you pulled yourself up, feeling your head spin.

Slowly, you made yourself walk into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bread and popping it into the toaster. Then you splashed some water on your tired face, shuffling over to the bathroom to brush your teeth. After finishing your toast, you peeled off the sweaty shirt you had pulled on when he had left, realising with a pang that it was Lewis's nightshirt you were wearing, a purple one he loved. Dropping it into the laundry basket, you turned on the shower, stepping under the warm shower. The warm spray untangled the knots in your matted hair, as you soaped your body and hair, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as memories of your showers together with Lewis came flooding back, as heartbroken sobs wracked your form again.

An hour after the not so great shower, you found yourself in another shirt belonging to Lewis, the bed in fresh sheets and covers, your pillow finally cool on both sides. You were clean and refreshed, albeit heartbroken, waiting on your takeout Chinese food and ice cream. Just as you lay there, scrolling through your Netflix account to watch some episode of FRIENDS to help you keep your spirits up, the doorbell rang. The thought of flavourful Chinese food and ice cream was enough to lure you out of your bed again, bare feet padding across the wooden floor to go to the door. You grabbed your wallet, opening the door, to find not your dinner, but Lewis, at the door, in one of your favourite sweatshirts on him. Did the clothes make you feel better? No. In fact, it just shattered your heart further.

"What are you doing here?" was the predictable line that left your lips. "I um, I left my toothbrush at your place. Can I have it back?"

"I beg your pardon? You left your toothbrush? You came back for a toothbrush, but not for me? Is that all I mean to you?!" you said, anger and a hint of sadness creeping into your tone. "You do mean a lot to me" he replied in a sigh. "Look, I didn't actually leave my toothbrush. That was a lie, and wow, I'm just realising how stupid that sounded, I'm sorry" His words were met with silence. The sadness in your eyes said it all. You were upset. Of course you were. "I don't have any toothbrushes except mine, so please leave" Before you could shut the door in his face, he pushed it back open, stepping into the house on his own.

"No do not come in here, please just get out!"

"No" was his frustrating reply. "What do you mean no? I said get out of my house!" "Not until we stop fighting and talk about what the hell happened!" Lewis yelled back, matching your tone. "Why the hell do you care?!" "Because I still love you damn it, I always have, and this stupid fight cannot, and should not break us apart!"

Your burst into tears. Sliding down against the wall, you buried your face in your hands, the sweatshirt arms covering your face as you sobbed. In an instant, Lewis was walking across to you, strong muscled arms wrapping around your shaking frame. "I'm sorry" you managed to blubber out, "I thought it over, and I don't go to support as often as I feel I should, and I'm sorry"

"No my darling, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all that to you. You work so hard baby, and I'm so proud of you. And I know that you try to come whenever you can, and I love you so much for that. I'm sorry, and I never shouldv'e asked you to prioritize my passion over yours" rubbing your shoulders softly, he let his chin rest on top of yours. Sniffling, you let your head rest on his shoulder. The soft hiccups that left your lips broke his heart even further, something he hadn't thought possible.

The last 3 days had been pure hell for him. He had missed you, God, he had missed you. He had missed having you in his bed in the morning, tracing patterns on your bare skin. He had missed leaving kisses on your soft cheeks and hands and on your cute nose, missed smiling against your skin as you giggled. He had missed you playing with Roscoe, the doggo following the both of you around the house. Even Roscoe had missed you, sniffing around the house for your familiar smell, cocking his ears up and looking at his dad questioningly.

He had missed your perfume, the scent filling his senses, intoxicating him in the best way possible. He missed you curling up to him, playing with his hair or tracing his tattoos, leaving little kisses around the compass tattoo, tracing his 'Still I Rise' tattoo, missing the goosebumps that would rise on his skin when you traced Michelangelo's Pieta on his skin, and kissed the family and faith tattoos on his sternum. He missed you everywhere, and it had taken three days for him to realize that your presence grounded him. Your presence was something he needed, not to survive, he had done that before, he needed you for his happiness.

And having you in his arms, crying over what he had said? It shattered his heart. And he wanted to just fix everything, to bring everything back to normal. Stroking your hair softly, he kept his lips pressed to your ear, whispering soft "I love you's" and "I'm so sorry baby's" and "I'm here for you's" into your ear, feeling his heart lighten ever so softly when your sniffles decreased and your grip on yourself relaxed.

Moving up to meet his eyes, you moved so you were at eye level with him. "So we're both idiots who are sorry?" You murmured, running your hand up to his collarbone. With a soft laugh, he nodded taking your hand into his, rubbing his thumb over yours. "Fighting sucks" he mumbled pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "It really does" your replied, moving so you were straddling his waist. "Let's never do that again, and let's just make a schedule. We can figure out when you can come and visit me, and I'll just deal with the fact that my ethereal girlfriend won't grace the race tracks every race weekend-" "It all sounds lovely but all I want right now is your lips on mine" you interrupted, bringing a smirk to his lips.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to yours, hand moving to maneuver your head closer to his, your hands moving up to cup his cheek, as your traced his jawline, his thumb running over your waist. Breaking apart softly, he let his forehead rest on yours. "I love you" he whispered softly. "I love you too" you mumbled back. Before he could lean back in, the doorbell rang again.

"Damn it. That's my chinese food and ice cream" you sighed, smiling when he laughed. "Was it that bad?" He asked, letting you get up to open the door. "Like you wouldn't believe it"

After getting the food and paying for it, you set two plates on the table and put enough on your plates. "You know what the worst part was about fighting?" "What was?" "Not waking up to you tracing my tattoos" "Aww that's what you missed?" You giggled, walking up to kiss the tattoos on his hands. "I really did. You're cute and adorable and you're all mine. That's why I don't wanna fight. Let's keep it that way" "I love you so much" "I love you too"

***

A/N - I'm so, so sorry I took so long to write this, I really suck at angst, and I hope this is what you wanted, the last thing I want to do is give you subpar work 😭😭

Anyways, have a great day 💙

[tommyspeakycap]

Long distance relationship with Robbo where you’re in Glasgow and he’s in Liverpool 💔 yous have an argument and he ends up driving up in the middle of the night to apologise 💗 v angsty and then v fluffy please xxx

uprooted plans

i couldn’t think of a good name for this one so the title is crap but i hope you enjoy! lots of angst, fluff will be in part two sometime soon :) x

andy tells a large white lie to protect a surprise for you, but in doing so has uprooted both of your future plans

“He’s gorgeous,” you mumble softly, letting the brand new baby boy your best friend has only recently returned home with grasp onto your finger with his tiny little hand. “Aren’t you adorable.” You coo, allowing him to be passed over to you carefully to babble baby noises in your arms settled on the couch.

She immediately takes a million pictures, giggling at the way her little boy looks up at you in wonder, gripping tight to your finger. You spend the entire day there, changing nappies, doing bottles and dangling little baby toys in front of him to make his eyes light up. Your heart feels so full with a little baby in your arms.

The buzzed feeling in your stomach exists the whole way home on the bus, excitedly waiting to phone Andy and tell him all about your day like each of you do every single evening. You met him on a random Thursday in summer when he was home visiting his family for the off-season. You were still in uni at the time, just finishing your third year when you met him in a cafe. There was a last minute assessment needing done and your flat mates were having a party for the end of the year so you couldn’t do work there. You came to the cafe and every seat was full bar the booth he sat in, and though you would usually have been far too anxious and far too quiet to even consider asking, this assessment needed done and it needed done now.

He looked up quickly when you nervously cleared your throat and mumbled a hello. He was pouring over some papers that you now know with hindsight was a draft his book. When you anxiously fumbled out the ask you sit in the other side of the booth, he immediately nodded, shifting some of those papers so you had some room on the table and you worked in silence for a bit. Minutes turned into hours and before you knew it, you got to talking. You told him about your degree and he spoke briefly about what he did for a living. The rest is history, you traded numbers and fell in love while he was home,

The only issue was that your job and studying kept you in Glasgow and his kept him in Liverpool. It wasn’t necessarily an issue, one of you always willing to travel and make the phone calls and do facetimes to talk about each other’s days. Summers were spent lazily lounging by pools that felt miles long and glistened under glorious blue skies and burning sun. Well, you lounged yoder the sun while Andy hid beneath the sun umbrella attached to the lounger. He always came home in the winters for Christmas with his family and now he spent it there with yours too, but going on two and a half years of your relationship, you wanted to be with him more.

He just hadn’t asked you to move down. Of course he had before, usually in the rush of the moment or some passion filled haze but he hasn’t asked in months and you feel as though bringing it up would be far too pushy.

Your phone buzzes in your hand, excitedly enticing you to look at it hoping it was Andy, but instead seeing that your friend had tagged you in an instagram post.

The picture was of you and her son, you smiling down at the baby boy as he coos up at you.

“Little mans first time meeting his Auntie (y/n)! @/andyrobertson, she’s a natural!”

A giggle parts your lips as you double tap the picture, dropping a red heart and a winky face in the comments as you laugh at her tagging Andy just before your bus pulls up to your stop.

It’s pretty much the moment you step off that instagram disappears from your screen to replace it instead with the picture of Andy you have saved for his contact along with his name across the top of your screen.

“Hi!” You cheer down the phone, beaming as you turn the corner towards your flat despite the cold rain threatening to fall above you. He seems uncharacteristically quiet on the other end before you hear a door closing firmly. “What was that about?” He snaps sharply, immediately catching you off guard. At first, you humour the idea he may be joking until you hear no laughter in the other side of the phone. “What was what?” You query confusedly, “I just said hello?”

Andy sighs, his irritation clear despite being many miles away from you. “Not that, i mean that post. Why would she say that?” He grumbles, prompting you to furrow your eyebrows while you stick the key into the lock of your front door, your phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you shove it open and emerge into your apartment. “What?” You ask, almost a little exasperated. “The caption? It was just-.” You try to force a soft laugh that seems to do nothing to soothe his anger for whatever reason, he just cuts you off.

“Are you pregnant or something?” He pushes harshly. making you recoil in a flinch of some kind despite the fact he can’t see you. “What? No of course not Andy. It was a joke.” You refute. Your hands have begun to shake, a lump forming in your throat.

“Thank god.” You hear him murmur to himself.

Your heart sinks. “What do you mean ‘thank god’ Andy, what if i was?” You press carefully, voice quivering as your heart thunders. Kids was a conversation you’d had before, usually in the wee hours of the morning curled up against his chest; talking on and on about kids names, about drawing straws when it came time because he thinks Andrew would be a good name for a boy but you already had a few preferences in mind. You had thought you were on the same page.

“Well you’re not, so it doesn’t matter does it?” He shrugs, casually scuffing his feet on the ground beneath him. You cant understand why he’s so frosty right now, why this words are all snapped with such ferocity. “It definitely does matter.” You refute, “I thought we were in this for the long run?” Your voice sounds almost as argumentative as his, just far more hurt and much more worried. “Yeah,” he shrugs again, “But we barely even see each other right mow. It’s not really time to be talking about commitment like marriage and babies eh?” Andy counters easily, coldly almost.

Your jaw drops open. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Andrew?” You snap, mind fizzing a mile a minute.

Not a time to be talking about commitment?

He’s got someone else, hasn’t he?

“Look we’re not having this conversation right now okay?” Andy grumbles, “I’m busy.”

“You called me!” You yelp, tears bedding in your eyes.

“Yeah,” Andy sighs irritatedly, “But only because your friend put up a completely inappropriate post (y/n)! If you want a sparkling ring and a big house full of babies then you’re looking in the wrong place. I’ve got much bigger, far more important stuff going on right now okay?” He nips harshly. You try to swallow the lump in your throat, allowing those tears to slip down over your cheeks.

“Bye Andrew.” You choke, thumb slamming down on the end call button before he can get the chance to say anything else. Your phone is chucked down on the couch, hand cupping over your mouth as as sob breaks out of your mouth.

He definitely has someone else.

“Hello?” Andy calls loudly into the phone, “(y/n)? You there?”

“You are the biggest, stupidest idiot i’ve ever met Robertson.”

Andy turns around quickly, sparing a look down at his phone to see you had in face hung up before stuffing it in his pocket and turning his gaze to face a scowling James Milner and a glaring Trent, arms folded over his chest with his eyebrows set in a firm frown. You’ve met the team many, many times. Each and every single individual loves you but maybe no one more than Trent. He always jokes about how you’re like his work mum and dad. He’s been banging on to Andy about tying you down for months, barraging him to get a ring, get you here, get married and make a home with you.

“What?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. “What did i do?”

James lunges forward, smacking Andy upside the head forcefully. Andy yelps out, hand immediately raising to rub the sore part of his head. “You just about ruined everything you’ve got with her!” Trent snaps, his glare firm. “What the fuck are you thinking? You do want to marry her, you do want babies with her!” He explains angrily, arms waving around emphatically. Andy nods in obvious agreement, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course I do, you know that.”

“Then why did you lie!”

Andy doesn’t answer verbally, instead stuffing his hand into his kit bag and produced a little black velvet box that is easily flicked open with one swell movement of his strong thumb. Inside it glistens the most beautiful yet simple gleaming diamond either have ever seen. Trent makes a distant reminder to seek out Andy to get his jewellers number when the time came for him to start thinking about buying engagement rings. It’s clearly handcrafted, touched up to perfection until it was the absolute spot on image of what Andy wanted it to be for you.

“It’s a secret for Christmas. I bought us a house too, it’s beautiful. Big garden, perfect because she wants kids.” Andy shrugs with a subconscious smile at the thought of it, his tone slightly hushed as though you may hear him from Glasgow. “Mate,” James cuts in, “Do you realise what you just did? You pulled a Chandler Bing.” He states emphatically, making Andy’s jaw drop. He’s seen friends, of course he has. He knows exactly what his club vice captain means when he says those words.

“Wait you don’t think-” Andy is cut off by the look James shoots him. “I do think. Mate you need to go. Now.”

“Oh fuck.” Andy curses, scraping his bag off the floor, snapping the ring box shut and making a break for the door. “And go fast, Andy!” Trent yells after him, “You do not want to let this one go.” He says firmly. Andy nods, his eyes solemn as the thinks of how stupid he’s been. He just wanted this to be a surprise for christmas, make it the happiest one you’ve ever had and he panicked when you brought this idea up to him. He didn’t want to ruin the surprise and now it’s very possible he’s ruined your entire relationship. Of course he wants kids and a big house and a family with you, in fact that’s actually all he’s ever wanted.

“I know, I can’t live without her.”

James gives Andy a pat on the shoulder and a sorry smile, hoping with everything crossed the Scottish man can win back the love of his life.

It’s just like he always says. Made in Glasgow, found in Liverpool, but only ever really at home with you.

[robininthelabyrinth]

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

-

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

-

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

-

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

-

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

-

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

-

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

[yandere-sins]

Charred

Horrortober Day 7: Shock “You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

Ah yes. Angels. Complicated beings, I love them. Randomizer sure gave me an interesting combination for this day, but I am not complaining :D Also, if you are one of the people leaving a comment on my posts, please just know you are everything. I love you ♥ Even if they are in the tags, I am so happy to read your thoughts and feelings, it really helps so much to stay positive and motivated! ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Corrupted Angel, Mild violent outburst Characters: Simeon x Reader

Angels aren't human.

How could you have forgotten?

Running through this godforsaken hallway, you were constantly blinded by lights. Little remnants of Simeon's power, one you didn't know he had. "I should have known better," you thought as you shielded your eyes from another flash caused by an orb to your left. If only the holy magic Simeon was able to use wasn't that harmful to your vision. If only he wouldn't use it on you. If only you never let it come this far.

But how could you have known? You thought you two were friends and like-minded people when you got closer to Simeon as you two attended RAD as exchange students. You weren't that kind of sinner; you never gave yourself hope there could be anything beyond friendship. And you weren't looking for it either. But to dismiss his exalted status as well, that one was on you. Of course he could use magic that was dangerous to you, especially with how little Simeon could understand human emotions.

Sure, he could crack a smile at a joke, show sadness, and give comfort, but he only did what he learned to do, feigning his sympathy. He didn't mean to hurt anyone with it, but it just wasn't in him to feel as humans do, or else it was threatening to defile them. Angels aren't human, they couldn't feel emotions like you did, and when they did, well, this is what happened.

Simeon was a mess. He was beside himself, trying to figure out what was wrenching his body. Ironically, it had been Lucifer who warned you about this. He kept himself brief when talking about angels and corruption, not wanting to open his own wounds. But he still made a point to tell you that it was overwhelming and maddening to have lived for centuries and only then regaining an emotional conscience. It war pain. Suffering. A change that would take months and years to overcome.

And it was all the scarier how quiet it made Simeon.

He didn't tell you what was happening, and you didn't notice it, busy with your duties and the brothers. You should have seen it! You blamed yourself for not being more careful as his friend, but it was already too late. When he started to demand more of your time and attention, glaring at the others for taking up his space by your side, it should have rung some alarm bells. It was almost painfully obvious that him getting more touchy when you were together and antsy when you pulled away was a warning of what was to come. Maybe you chose to ignore it. Perhaps you thought your friendship could survive him being irrational and angry, snapping at you and others at times.

But by the time Simeon became what he wasn't supposed to be, he had already kidnapped you somewhere strange and magical, just as twisted and scary as he was now. It was like an endless dark, ancient castle. Rooms with high ceilings and tall windows looking into the nothingness around the building. The insides were decorated, but the colors everywhere were constantly shifting, nauseatingly so. Sometimes white, sometimes grey. Gold accents, then copper. The temperature was hot when you were awake and cold when you slept. You knew it was magical and tied to Simeon, but that made it all the more uncomfortable and scary. You didn't want to experience this. You never asked for it! Part of you knew what was going on, and it made the realization worse.

There had been moments of clarity in his eyes when you pleaded with him to get a grip, but they fogged over with emotions an angel shouldn't have. When you tried to reason with him, he got jealous over the argument that others would come looking at you. "You're mine!" he screamed, and then his eyes cleared as he regretted his words, leaving you alone abruptly before you could say another word. He was ashamed and scared, you had seen it in his expression, but he still came back as if nothing happened.

On the surface, he was still the Simeon you knew. The one you loved. But he was so quickly offended and angered by now that you only grew more worried every day. Suddenly he started locking your room or would sit and watch you sleep, and you were scared of this angel that wasn't an angel anymore.

So… you ran.

At the first opportunity, you ran. The hallway seemed endless, and you didn't know where you were going. Flashes went off every few steps, and you ran into a few amenities blindly. Even if it was pure madness and wouldn't help either of you, you couldn't do this. The longer you stayed, the worse Simeon got. You needed to find help for him—and for you. That was the only way. The others would know what to do! They could do something for Simeon that you weren't able to, give him stability and support him in these hard times. You were just a human and didn't know if Simeon could remain an angel after all that happened, but if he could, that's what you wished for him from the bottom of your heart. You never intended any of this to happen, and secretly, you didn't want to be the reason for it.

"AH!" with a loud shriek, you were caught by a slice of light right in front of you. It was like a slit opening up, but even brighter than the orbs that had exploded before that. You could recognize magic when you saw it by now. Simeon's magic. Flashy, dazzling, unbefitting of the tumult he was going through. Simeon was far stronger than you expected him to be, but you realized now that you took his calm and sweet demeanor for weakness, when really, it was mercy.

Tumbling backwards, you landed on your side, your arm throbbing as you slowly tried to get up again. It should have shocked you more to see the person slowly stepping out of the light, but you could barely see anyway, only recognizing the voice as he spoke up. "My, you look like a deer caught in the headlights."

Finally, the light shining at you terrifyingly bright vanished, leaving only you two behind in the warped hallway. It took you a few blinks to recover from it, tiny sparks flying through your vision when you looked up at Simeon. Other than the dark corridor, Simeon was wearing his pristine, white clothes. Pure and amiable. Nothing like the inner tumult he was battling, and still, he looked nothing like the Simeon you knew. The kind Simeon. The one you loved.

You feared he was already gone.

Around you, the colors of the castle shifted to nightmarish black while accents turned into a deep red, all while you and Simeon never broke eye contact. He was walking towards you, hand on his chest and smiling in greeting. You once loved his reassuring smiles, the encouraging message they delivered. But this one was menacing and cold, as was his voice when he spoke up again.

"Where are you going?" he asked curtly, right to the point. Biting your lip, you only looked away. You wanted to argue, but good could come out of that? When you cracked your room's lock, you thought it would take him longer to find out. Long enough for you to form a plan, but it only now crossed your minds that the lights you encountered could have been like security cameras for Simeon to check in the case you ever did break out.

"There is no leaving this place, my dove. You know this. Why are you testing me."

"Why are you keeping me here?" you asked the same question he ignored so many times. Though this time, he indeed had something to say to it.

"It's dangerous out there. Demons will get to you, blemish your skin with their marks and rob you of your life. Aren't you worried at all?"

"I'd like to see for myself what I can do out there," you retorted firmly. "I think you're losing it, Simeon. You are nothing like you were when we were students."

Confronting him may not have been the best idea as his once so kind eyes turned moody, smile turning into a frown as you mentioned the past. "No, I am better. I can protect you now. I take care of you. You owe me more respect if you think I've gone mad. The only thing making me mad is you!"

Gulping, you looked at him. He was prideful now too. It was painful for you.

Simeon was slipping further and further. Every passing second was destroying him.

"Simeon, please," you whispered, pleading with him from the bottom of your heart. "I want to help you! B-But I don't know how! I need help to help you, I need to get out!"

"You're not going anywhere," he decided, cutting his hand through the air in a gesture signaling finality to his word. Kneeling down before you, he pulled you roughly into his chest, pressing your head against him. If there was any good that came out of the change, perhaps it was how open he was now to touches. You longed for this, for something longer than just a hug when you two met. But your heart was throbbing out of devastation now, rather than jumping from joy.

"Please get help," you pleaded, gripping his clothes. "I won't leave you, but please ask the brothers or Lord Diavolo for help, Simeon!"

"Never say their names again," he hissed at you, an unfamiliar hostility in his voice that brought you to tears. But Simeon held you as you cried into his chest. His comfort wasn't helpful, but what else did you have to cling to? If not for him, you would be alone and abandoned in this realm, and you had to painfully admit that he was indeed taking care of you. Good care. In his own, twisted way.

While you were still crying, Simeon carried you back to your room, laid you in your bed, and tugged you in. He did so with a frown deeply lodged on his beautiful face, the wrinkles so unfitting for an angel. But a small hope remained inside of you that you crying would make him see reason. Instead, he sat by your bedside as you two stared at each other, eventually muttering that he was going to get you some food before leaning down and kissing your forehead. You hated this affection. Actually, you hated that it was under these circumstances.

When Simeon got up, he left you without another look back over his shoulders, and you sniffled, the tears never drying out as you looked after him. So cold, so… lonely. He was in pain too, he must have been. If only there was a way to reverse it. To make him see reason and to calm his aching. You wished you could have helped him, at least a little bit. As a human, was there nothing you could do? Maybe just take some of the sins he was living through! As normal as they were for you, they were killing him from the inside.

The intense light from before flashed up as he opened the door to your room, blinding and stinging in your eyes. Still, you were already crying, and it was hard to avoid your gaze from Simeon even now. It was the first time you noticed his wings, usually concealed by magic, but as he used them, they came into plain view. You had believed until the last second that maybe there was a way to help him. To save him from this. But you were a little wiser as you looked at the feathers sprouting from his back. His beautiful, large wings. 

Charred-black.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Forget That Extra•

Summary: Porn with very little plot, just a lot of self induldent smut then some super soft Bakugo. FWB trope and all. This one gets RIGHT INTO THE NEWS (starts with smut immediately) so strap in.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader (both Bakugo and Reader are aged up to 18+)

Warnings: Rough sex, degredation, impact play, choking, ddlg terms, squirting, spitting, dumbification, a dash of breeding/impregnation kink, unprotected sex, overstimulation if you squint, multiple orgasms, marking, possession kink, switch reader, switch Bakugo. (Primarily submissive reader with primarily dominant bakugo.)

Word count: 7,402

A/N: This was,,,, depraved,, and it's only gonna get worse.

Part Two • Part Three

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Fucking- shit- you take this cock so fucking well." Bakugo huffs out as he plows into you from behind, he punctuates his sentence with a harsh slap to your ass. The action earns a high pitched moan from you. Your right hand flies to his headboard, desperate for some kind of a brace against his punishing thrusts.

Sex with Bakugo has always been like this, rough, fast, and urgent. Everything he does in the bedroom is exactly what you would expect from somebody with his explosive personality. You two had started out as "just friends", with immense tension, until one day that tension broke and you introduced the benefits side to your relationship. It happened in an abandoned janitor's closet in the building of the hero agency you both worked at. Ever since then you became Katsuki Bakugo's personal plaything. Your little arrangement had created something truly volatile. One minute you would be all over each other, the next not even willing to speak to each other. You would never cross over the line into an actual relationship, though. That was the only rule set for this shitshow you've both created.

You're in your current predicament because you were caught flirting with some extra at the bar you two were at while Bakugo was in the bathroom. While you're not technically his, he's very territorial. He's decided to teach you a lesson of sorts about flirting behind his back. Something he has no right to do given the dynamic of your relationship, but you're more than willing to pretend if it means he'll rail you like he is right now.

"Who's pussy is this?" He nearly yells as his hand fists into your hair so he can yank you up, your back bends painfully, but you're quickly distracted from the pain by the feeling of his other hand wrapping around your throat.

"I asked you a question bitch, or have I fucked you so stupid you can't even answer?" His tone is nasty, teasing. The harshness of it all renders you incapable of articulating anything. All you can do is moan like a whore while he drills his thick cock in and out of you. His hips slam against your ass and you can feel your juices dripping down the insides of your thighs. Only Bakugo can get you like this, you want to tell him too. You want to stroke his already pompous ego, but all you can do is cry out and take what he's giving you.

"You're so fucking wet, bet you would've let anybody fuck you, huh? You- little -whore." He says the last three words with malice, ramming himself into you as each one leaves his mouth. The hand that isn't on your throat snakes around your waist to tease your clit, he doesn't do much though, just rubs light and slow and it drives you fucking insane. You can feel your body begging for an orgasm, but with the way he's touching you, all you can do is sit on the edge and wait for him to have mercy. Your walls flutter slightly, but not enough to bring you much satisfaction. You groan impatiently, biting your bottom lip hard enough to break the skin. Bakugo chuckles behind you, the sound irritates the hell out of you. Of course he's laughing at you.

"What's wrong baby? Can't cum unless I make you?" He sneers against your neck, he finishes the sentence by releasing your neck just so he can plant his hand between your shoulder blades and force your chest against the bed. Your back arches up in that sinful way you know he loves. His thrusts have slowed slightly, becoming almost gentle, his left hand is still roped around your body so his rough middle finger can trace lazy circles on your clit.

You bury your face in the mattress and cry out, you're right fucking there. Your body is screaming for it, it's like your orgasm is starting but it won't progress past the feeling of falling. It's almost fucking painful. You hear his dark laugh fill the room again and you want nothing more than to turn around and deck him in his handsome face.

He bends down and gathers your hair again, this time his movements are more guiding than demanding. He pulls your roots to turn your face to the side, he presses a sloppy kiss against your temple. His hips continue their lazy push and pull out of your soaked cunt. You let out a pathetic sob like sound and ball the sheets in your fists.

"What is it baby- tell me what you need." He's taunting you again, his voice has that teasing edge. He fucking knows what you want, but he won't give it to you until you say it. Anger bubbles in your chest, creating a strong desire to be defiant. You'll definitely pay for it, but you love it when he gets pissed off.

"I need to cum." You moan, trying to sound pitiful and desperate. You pout slightly, knowing your antics will spur him on.

"Do you think you deserve that?" He growls as he applies just slightly more pressure to your clit, only enough to tease you, making your walls ache and your head spin.

"I bet- fuck Katsuki-" You choke when he pushes himself all the way into you, circling his hips a little once he's fully encased by your soaked hole.

"You bet what?" His voice is dripping with amusement, it pulls you back down to earth long enough to spit out the words you know he'll make you pay for.

"I bet that extra could've made me cum by now." You let your lips pull into a deviant smirk, you look back at him and your chest seizes immediately. His crimson eyes are ablaze with fury, his upper lip pulls up slightly to sneer down at you. He takes a deep breath in, his strong chest expands and your mouth waters at the sweat rolling down his pecs. He stops all movement against you, you internally scream at the loss of stimulation.

He doesn't say a damn word, before you can even say anything to fix this he's ripped himself out of you, his muscular right arm slips around your waist. His hand grabs at your side and he pulls it back swiftly, flipping you onto your back like it's nothing. He leers over you, placing both hands on either side of your head. His movements are slow, almost primal. His gaze is intense and vengeful, you cower beneath him and hold your breath.

He slowly moves his right hand to grasp your chin. You let out a weak breath as soon as his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. He pulls your soft skin down and you immediately open your mouth to pull his thumb in and swirl your tongue around it. His lack of words and action is making you increasingly nervous for what's going to come next, your heart is hammering in your chest and you have a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. He's never this quiet during sex. He's always groaning or barking orders at you, did you go too far?

"I'm sure he's still there." He sighs, pushing his thumb further into your mouth.

Your face scrunches in confusion. Where is he going with this?

He braces himself on his knees on either side of your hips, straddling you so he can move his left hand up your body. You steal a glance down between your bodies and see his cock is still painfully hard, glistening with the slick you covered him in. The sight makes you sigh against his hand while your eyes flutter back to his. His left hand snakes over your breast, flicking your nipple on his way, the action makes your body jump and him chuckle. Soon his hand is around your throat again, squeezing in a warning way that makes your heart beat even faster.

"How about I find him and bring him back here for you?" His eyes flicker to your mouth, watching you suck his thumb intently.

"But first…" His hand leaves your mouth abruptly so he can grab your jaw again, your mouth hangs open while he chokes you further.

"I'm gonna cover you in my fucking cum so he knows how much of a whore you are." He spits into your mouth then forces your jaw shut, then gives you a fierce look as he raises his eyebrows. Between his brutal words and his feral appearance, you don't dare push it. You swallow like you know he wants and open your mouth to prove that you've done it.

"Good girl." He almost moans the words.

"Is that what you want then?" He growls, visibly irritated by your lack of argument with the implications that you want somebody else to satisfy you. The hand on your throat tightens even more, causing your own hands to inch towards the vice he's created around your airway.

"No- I don't want that." You gasp out, electricity pulsing through you at the intensity of it all.

"So what do you want?" He asks impatiently.

"You- I fuckin- shit- You Katsuki, I want your cock, nobody else's." You're sputtering, white stars start to spark in your eyes.

He tears himself away from, you gasp as soon as your throat is free of his crushing grip. He maneuvers down your body so he's kneeling between your thighs, he gathers your shaking legs and presses them together, letting them lean to the left side slightly. He reaches down his body and grabs his thick cock to start stroking himself lazily. Your walls clench with longing as his deep red eyes glare at you.

"You want this?" He asks, nodding down at his impressive length.

"Please…" Your voice is absolutely pathetic, laced with need, you find yourself grabbing at the sheets again.

He doesn't say anything else, just rolls his eyes then lines his tip up at your entrance. You hiss at the contact, so desperate to be filled by him again.

Much to your dismay, he's pulled back out as soon as he's pressed himself in. Then you feel the most maddening sensation you've ever experienced. He presses his dick right between your thighs, using your slick as lube. Your eyes roll back and you huff, you feel the sting of tears gathering and gaze up at him with the most pitiful expression.

"Oh, what's the matter?" Bakugo taunts as he slides his length between your soft thighs again.

"You wanted me to fuck you again, huh?" He asks as his hands trail down the backs of your thighs, coming to the curve of your ass to finish his ministrations with a harsh squeeze.

You nod weakly, the horrible ache in your pussy is absolutely maddening. You take in a shuddering breath as you feel your legs begin to shake slightly. Bakugo doesn't miss this in the slightest, in fact, he seems to get a kick out of your desperation. His face lights up in a ferocious and sadistic way, slowly pulling himself in and out of your squished thighs the whole time.

He brings his hands back up to hook them under your knees so he can spread your legs open again. He glares down at your aching entrance and he lets out a condescending chuckle.

His right hand slithers down to your core, he lets his middle finger skate over your puffy clit. Your whole body jolts at the contact, his eyebrow tweaks up at your reaction, that knowing smirk spreads across his face.

"There is one way you can get this cock inside of you again." He drawls.

This grabs your attention shamefully fast, you shift so you're braced on your elbows. He lets himself settle down between your legs so his hot breath can fan over your dripping folds.

"I'll do it, whatever it is, please Katsuki." You're more than just slightly embarrassed to be pleading in this way, but your body needs release desperately, so your pride is nearly non-existent.

"You can squirt for me." His words send a chill right up your spine. You shiver in anticipation and relax against his touch. He presses his lips into the inside of your thigh as his arms snake around your legs so he can hold them against his strong shoulders. He gives you a few more gentle kisses, nipping your heated skin every once in a while.

His eyes flicker up to yours, the beautiful scarlet irises are flooded with lust and his pupils are blown wide. The sight of him looking at you like that from between your legs makes your chest ignite with exhilarating desire. He opens his mouth, letting his tongue loll out, not breaking eye contact for a second. He flicks the tip of it over your clit with lightning speed, you throw your head back and huff at his agonizing teasing.

You're jolted back to reality with smack the side of your leg with brutal force. The sharp sting makes your walls contract as a whimper leaves your throat.

"Eyes on me, sweet girl." He mumbles against you, lips pressing into your clit as he sighs.

You internally scream, you want to tell him to use his mouth on you, you want to tell him to quit his teasing and be a man. You don't fucking dare though, you're miserable enough.

Then he finally licks a long strip up your lips, letting the tip of his tongue flick your clit like he did seconds ago. This time he applies more pressure and moves slower. Your body reacts instantly, cunt clenching as your thighs jerk inwards. He absolutely hates that, he growls and pulls his hands from your hips to press them against the insides of your thighs so he can pry your legs open.

"Don't make me tie these down." He warns, giving you no time to answer before pressing his hot mouth back against where you need him most.

You cry out but you don't dare let your head fall back, remembering his command from before. Your head is spinning and your body is trembling against your will. He's completely devouring you, his mouth is creating lewd smacking sounds as he tongues your aching clit. Before you can't even process it when you feel two of his thick fingers shove into your fluttering cunt.

"Fucking hell, Katsuki!" You cry as he starts to pump his digits in and out of you, his tongue doesn't slow down at all as he finger fucks you furiously.

Your nerves are on fire as the pleasure in your center builds until you're on the edge again. Your body's reaction is to squeeze your legs together. Just as you start to pull them inwards slightly Katsuki raises the hand that isn't two knuckles deep inside you and lets it fall against the inside of your thigh with a crack. The sweet sting makes you moan, you're pushed even closer to your release and you feel an unnatural pressure build close to where he's working your cunt.

"I'm gonna- oh my god- Baby, I'm gonna-" You spit the words out between gasps, the confirmation that you're about to give him what he wants only spurs him on further. His fingers move even quicker, he lets them curl up against the sponge-like skin, jerking his wrist harshly. As soon as the pads of his fingers find that sweet spot inside you, the dam breaks. Your body collapses against the bed as your back arches off the sweat soaked sheets.

"Oh that's it baby girl, that's what I wanna see." He huffs out as you start to squirt around his fingers. He's replaced his tongue with his other hand, letting his middle finger flick your clit in fervent up and down motions. The change of stimulation has you crying out and thrashing your head as you squirt forcefully, the feeling is so foreign and intense. Blinding pleasure catches every single nerve of your body on fire as your pussy clenches and gushes against him. It's almost embarrassing but it feels so incredible.

"-Feels so fucking good, Suki don't fucking stop." You wail, hands grasping at the bed as your hips lift up. Your cunt gives him one last powerful burst as you sob his name over and over.

He keeps his hands working against you, but slows his movements down as he watches your body ease back out of its rapturous pleasure. As soon as you're flat against the mattress again and he sees you catch your breath, he rips his hands away from you. You want to object, but before you can he's shoving his fingers into your mouth. Your own spunky flavor spreads across your taste buds as you suck him into your mouth so you can clean your release off.

"First of all, don't tell me what to do." He huffs as he pulls his fingers out so he can capture your jaw in a possessive grasp.

"Second of all, I'm not going to stop until you want to fucking worship me." His words send you reeling, still trying to catch your breath from the electrifying orgasm he's just given you.

He bends down and kisses you fiercely, all teeth and tongue as he claims your mouth.

He pulls away and settles back onto his knees between your legs. His hands trail down your sides, his feathery touch raises goosebumps all over your flushed skin.

"You were such a good girl." He mumbles as his hand comes to grasp his hard length, he strokes it lazily as he looks down at you.

You lick your lips at the sight, of course he doesn't miss the action. He lets out a patronizing chuckle.

"Is this what you want?" He asks with a mocking tone.

"Yes." You say quietly, your voice is ragged from your previous cries.

His eyebrows shoot up as he lets himself drop to cage you with his arms. He shoves your drenched thighs apart with his knee so he can settle between them. He presses himself against your folds and you his at the teasing sensation.

"Yes what, baby?" The sweet nickname betrays his menacing tone.

Your hands slide up to claw at his muscular sides, your lip quivers and your thighs squeeze his hips.

"Yes, Daddy, I want you to ruin me with that cock." Your voice is light and begging, just like he likes it.

He glares down at you, still pissed at you for bringing up the guy from the bar, but you see the small crack in his facade at your confession. You decide to keep running with your little desperate act. Well, it's not really an act, you truly are so fucking desperate for him. Pride be damned, you need to get railed.

"I'm so sorry I said anything about that stupid extra." You sigh, letting your hands slide up his tense abs.

"He could never make me feel like you do. Nobody ever could." Your hands find their place on the sides of his face, you let your hips roll up against his aching length as you bat your eyelashes.

"Do you mean that?" He asks. The tone in his voice throws you off. He's the one that sounds desperate now, like he wants you to keep reassuring him. Of course he fucking does. He said it himself, he wants you to worship him.

"Nobody has ever made me come that hard before." You admit. His face almost quivers at your words. You take advantage at the moment of weakness, you wrap your strong thighs around his hips and flip you both so you're straddling him. It's a gamble of a move given how much you just pissed him off, but he's all too ready to have his ego stroked. He submits to you beautifully, allowing you to settle on top of his lap so you can run your slick center on his needy dick. His hands cling to your hips, finger tips digging in when you rake your own hands through his messy blonde spikes.

"You make me feel so good, Suki." You whisper against his ear, reveling in the way his entire body relaxes. Maybe he doesn't need to dominate you, maybe he needs you to prove your devotion to him.

"Yeah? Is that right?" He tries to maintain his intimidating tone, but the feeling of his tip against your soaking hole makes him bite his lip while his eyes roll back.

"That's right baby, your name is the only name I want to scream." You punctuate your sentence with a nip at the soft skin under his ear.

A sweet, breathy moan escapes his throat. Now it's your turn to be power hungry.

You snake your hand up to his jaw, letting your fingers grasp the tense flesh with a delicate hold. His eyes meet yours and it takes every ounce of self control in your body to hold you back from jumping on his dick right that second. He's looking up at you with big, doe like eyes. Desperation is etched on every handsome feature, it's enough to make your knees go weak.

"Can I please make you feel good?" You ask sweetly, letting your thumb trace over his kiss-swollen bottom lip. He just nods and sighs, never letting his eyes leave yours for a second.

You roll your hips against him again, the action only makes his grip on your hips tighten as he throws his head back.

"You're already doin' that." He huffs out. His cheeks have a dusting of blush across them. He looks so beautiful like this, all flushed and desperate. You've never really been in control before, not like this anyway. Sure, you've been on top, but you've never seen Bakugo so… submissive?

You grab the sides of his face instinctively, pulling him towards you to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He moans into your mouth as he lets his hands snake around your waist to pull you against him. He lifts your torso against his and you bite his bottom lip when you feel the tip of his dick press into your dripping hole. You pull away to glance down at him and you notice the strained look in his ruby eyes.

"Don't hold back, pretty boy." You breathe out. Your words break his resolve completely, he snarls at you as he plants his feet on the bed so he can drive his cock into you with one sharp thrust. You scream his name and throw your hands out to brace against the headboard.

"Are you sure about that, princess?" He taunts as he pulls out again, stopping once his head is pressed at your entrance again.

"Yes- fuck- please fuck me like tha- FUCK!" You don't get a chance to finish your begging, he sinks himself into you again but this time he doesn't stop. His pace is immediately unforgiving, your whole body starts to shake and all you can do is cry out with each thrust.

"That's it, fuckin' scream for me, baby." He pants. His mouth then moves to attack your neck with hot open mouthed kisses and nips. Whiny moans fall from his lips between each bite. The sweet sting of his teeth against the delicate skin sends shocks of pleasure straight to your core where you're being split open by his incredibly harsh thrusts.

"I don't want to ever hear you talk about another man like that, not when I can fuck your cunt like this." He gasps when the words make you clamp down on him even more than you already are. His possessive statement makes you want to submit completely, any hint of the dominance you felt seconds ago flies from your brain. You're left with nothing but the need to surrender and please him.

"I'm sorry." You sob against his shoulder as he kisses your cervix with his pounding.

"For what?" He grunts. He's testing you now, seeing just how far you've slipped into your submissive headspace.

"I'm sorry for even talking to him. He's nothing compared to you, Dynamight." Your voice is filled with broken desperation, your mind is set on earning atonement for your behavior at the bar.

The name sends him over the edge, without stopping his hips he flips you both over so he can shove your back into the bed. One hand flies to the headboard while the other comes down to form a vice around your throat. He doesn't choke you though, just applies enough pressure to keep you on edge. His mind is set more on possession than punishment now.

"Is this how I get you to behave? I gotta fuck you senseless so you'll fucking act right?" He snarls at you, nothing but fury in his eyes as he buries himself in you again and again.

You nod your head furiously, your jaw drops when he delivers a particularly rough thrust that sets all of your nerves on fire. Drool slips out of the side of your mouth and you feel hot tears fall from your eyes. Your legs tremble around him and your hands cling to the sheets as you moan and sob beneath him.

"Who makes you feel this good?" He barks.

"You do." You say pitifully, immediately kicking yourself for not answering him the way you're supposed to.

In a flash his hand has left your throat so he can send his knuckles cracking across your cheek as he back hands you with a growl. The hand comes back to grab your jaw and jerk your head to face him, he brings his hips to an agonizing pace. He rolls his body against your a few times before pressing himself into you completely, then he stops moving completely. You cry and squirm against the painful stretch, blinking up at him with blurry, tear filled eyes.

"You have one more chance." He says against your ear, voice low and full of warning. He lets his hand squeeze your face even more, inevitably decorating your jaw with little bruises.

"Who makes you feel this good?" He asks you again, his voice has a slight tremor to it, giving you a heads up that now is not the time to push him.

"You do, sir." You gasp, another sob wracking your body. You want to push your hips up against his to gain back even a trace of the feeling he was previously giving you. Your body trembles like a leaf when you realize how pathetic your voice still sounds, knowing he won't be satisfied.

"Speak up, bitch." He says, letting his palm crack across your other cheek. The pain makes your pussy clench around him, he just chuckles at your slutty behavior.

"You do, sir!" You try to scream, but you just end up crying. You know you have to look like an absolute wreck.

Out of your peripheral vision his hand moves again and you brace for impact, but he shocks you by placing his hand gently against your check. The hand on the headboard comes down to rest beside your head, letting his body come even closer to you. You gaze up at him and wait with baited breath for his next command.

"That's my girl. Now, beg." He says plainly as he pulls his hips back by barely an inch to rock back into you. The motion pushes more tears out of your eyes and more drool from your mouth.

"Please fuck me, Daddy, please- OH FUCK!" Just like that he's ripping you apart again with his relentless thrusts.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you thank you thank you." You cry like a prayer as your eyes drill shut and your back arches off the bed, your walls seize up and your muscles quake when you hear him moaning praises.

"You're so fucking tight, princess." He knows what he's doing, he knows exactly what to say when you're like this, and it's fucking perfect.

"Thank you, daddy." You sob against the hand still pressed to your cheek, you're both surrendering now. Your bodies are aching for that sweet euphoria you offer each other after all this teasing. His other hand mirrors the one holding your cheek so he can cradle your face and lean his forehead against yours. The tenderness sends you careening towards your orgasm, but you know better than to finish without permission.

"Can I please cum." You beg as your hands slide to his back so you can drag your nails down the sweat soaked skin.

"Not yet, you better fuckin' hold it." He huffs out above you, he brings himself back up to brace on one arm. The other slides down to flip one of your legs up so he can hook it around his elbow. The way this new position has your hips angled is absolutely maddening for both of you. You're spread so wide for him that he's able to plunge into you to the hilt with every thrust, and the way your leg is hiked up makes you feel even tighter around him. An all too familiar pressure builds in your core, your walls flutter and your abs tense as the muscles in your cunt shutter.

"I'm gonna fuckin' squirt again." You pray he doesn't punish you for stating it instead of asking if you could, but the look in his eyes tells you he's not in an orgasm ruining mood. His red eyes light up with an animalistic glare, wild blonde hair glued to his forehead by the sweat pouring out of his overworked body.

"Fuckin' do it then, slut. Let me feel that messy cunt cum all over my cock." That's all it takes.

Your hand flies down to assault your clit, and the stimulation sends you straight into your electric orgasm. Your body convulses against Katsuki as your cunt spasms and gushes around his cock, you revel in the sweet pleasure that spreads between your legs and sob out broken cries. He doesn't slow down his thrusts in the slightest, if anything he speeds up. The sight of you squirting around him turns him completely feral.

"Oh fuck yeah, good girl, fuckin' soak me." His voice shifts to that beautiful higher pitch that makes him sound so needy.

You let out gasps and shrill moans as you come undone, between your fingers and his thrust your release is being spread all over the two of you, inevitably ruining the sheets as well.

"Thank you sir- fuck! Thank you for making me squirt." You moan, fingers slowing down as the gushing from your cunt stops. Nerves twitching with the aftershocks of your blinding release, you gain some mental clarity. As Katsuki continues to drill into you, you make sure to not let your walls relax, desperate to see him come undone. You know exactly what he needs. He needs that big ass ego stroked.

His thrusts slow slightly, setting a much less brutal pace. It's not the slow, sloppy pace he sets when he's close, though. His face is scrunched up in deep concentration, breath leaving his lungs in harsh puffs. While he has stamina unmatched by anybody you've ever slept with, he is human. His body is exhausted from all of the exertion it took to get you to finish so forcefully, you look down his body and see his muscles twitching under his lovely, porcelain skin. You owe him after that, big time. It's your turn to make him a mess.

"You ruined me, Daddy." You say as you watch his eyebrows squeeze together, your tone is feather soft as you run your fingers along his sides. His body reacts with a gorgeous shutter, now you've got him.

"You're the only one baby, only you can make me cum that hard." A stunning moan leaves his throat, your sweet talk is doing a number on him, and a wicked idea enters your brain.

"Let me ride you, please, I wanna make it up to you." You beg.

"Make what up to me?" He's so caught off guard by your request, and the fact that he doesn't immediately know what you're talking about tells you he's hanging on by a thread.

"I was such a bad girl, Daddy. I gotta make it up to you." You say with a sweet, innocent tone. Another gentle moan leaves his mouth and his hips stall slightly. That's the exact window you were looking for. You use the same move you did earlier to roll yourself on top. He huffs out as his back meets the mattress, cock still buried inside you. Your hips settle down against his as you lean forward to press your torso against his. One strong hand slides to squeeze your ass while the other sneaks up your side to grab your breast, skilled fingers pinch the nipple and you hiss at the stimulation. You roll your hips against his as your body sings for him.

"Please, baby." He sighs, leaning up to press a kiss against your collar bone.

The gentleness of his request makes your head spin, as well as his willingness to ask so sweetly. Katsuki doesn't ask for anything in the bedroom, or in general. Seeing him in this submissive state makes your mind and body buzz. If you were in a more sadistic mood, you might want to hear him beg a little more, but your body is already so worn from the intense orgasms he's put you through. You settle for lazily rolling your hips against him, gazing down to watch every gorgeous expression cross his fucked out face. His head falls back and his eyes flutter shut, his lips part as and a strained moan leaves his mouth.

"Look at me, baby, please, I want you to watch me." You coo, letting your hands slide up to run through his messy hair. He opens his mouth to say something, probably sass you for even remotely attempting to give him an order. He's cut off as you raise your hips to back down on his length suddenly.

"Oh shit, keep doin' that." He glances down between your bodies, desperate to see where you're connected.

"This?" You tease as you raise your hips again to repeat the motion, this time setting a gentle pace as you bounce on his cock.

"Yeah, just like that, good girl." He sighs, head falling back. Of course he's not going to listen to your request for him to keep his eyes open, even when he's the one underneath you, he won't be told what to do. You're not in the mood to challenge him though, your overstimulated body is already responding to the feeling of him inside you. You sit up and throw your hair over your shoulder as you bring yourself down against him with more force. You grab his wrists and drag his leathery hands up your sides, causing his eyes to snap open as he lifts his head up to gaze at your bouncing breasts.

"Play with me, Daddy, please." You moan softly, guiding his hands up to grasp your tits. He squeezes them greedily and groans at the feeling of the soft flesh. You plant your hands on his strong chest and focus all of your energy into riding him. As your hips snap down against him, he fills you perfectly and you feel your own orgasm starting to build. You're on a mission though, Katsuki has to cum now, and you know exactly how to make that happen.

"Fuck- I wanna feel you cum baby, please fill me up." You beg as you throw your head back, his hands fly to your waist at your confession and his fingers dig into you.

"Yeah? You desperate for Daddy's cum?" He's maintaining his dominance, but his resolve is crumbling.

You nod fervently, grabbing his right hand so you can bring it to your mouth. You take his thumb into your mouth and wrap your pouty lips around it, you feel drool drip out of your mouth to slide down your chin and land on your chest. You look down to see him watching you like a hawk, eyes glued to the spit sliding between your breasts. You let his thumb fall out of your mouth so you can dirty talk some more.

"Make me yours, put a fuckin baby in me, Suki." You throw yourself forward so you can plant your hands beside his head and bare down on his cock even more. Obscene, wet, smacking sounds fill the room as your sopping cunt slams down on his length repeatedly.

"I'll make you mine, slut, I'll fuckin fill you up." He huffs out.

"I'll put a baby in that perfect body, ruin you for everyone else- shit, baby- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fuckin cum." As he finishes his sentence his voice climbs a few octaves, starting at his usual manly tenor to end at a pitiful wine.

"You feel so good Daddy, let me feel you cum, I wanna make you feel good." You run a hand down his chest, letting your nails leave angry red marks in their wake. He throws his head back to cry out as his hips buck against you, the sight sends you hurtling into another earth shattering orgasm. It's so fucking perfect, as soon as he starts cumming your walls start pulsing around him. You both still against each other as you feel him start to fill you up with ropes of his hot cum. You collapse onto his chest as you both work your hips against each other, moaning incoherent praises about how good you both did. You ride out your orgasms in tandem, his beautiful, broken moans fill your ears as hot tears cascade down your pink cheeks.

You both pant as you come back down, nerves firing and bodies twitching. You bring your face up to glance down at him. His ruby eyes flutter open to meet yours, his hands move gingerly up your body. His fingertips glide over the bruises already forming on the skin he abused with his teeth. He moves to press a thankful kiss against your battered neck. You run your fingers through his hair and let out a content hum at his affectionate gesture.

He continues to place kisses up your neck, across your jaw, then he grabs your chin so he can tilt your face to the left to kiss where the impact of his knuckles have welted the skin. He does the same with the other cheek so he can kiss where he slapped you on that side.

"Let's get you cleaned up." He mumbles against your flushed face. He timidly slips his softening cock out of your well used hole, you feel warm liquid leak out and spread down your thighs, but at this point it's impossible to know who it's from. You roll off of him and huff when your back hits the bed. He slides off and stands with his hand out for you, you take it and wince when you stand. Your legs threaten to give out, trembling beneath you as you attempt to walk.

"Come here you big baby." He rolls his eyes and scoops you up bridal style. You sigh and lean your head against his shoulder as he hauls you off to the bathroom. He gently sets you in the large claw foot bathtub, you shiver as the frozen porcelain bites your hot skin.

"Here, move forward." He says simply, you obey thoughtlessly. He slides in behind you after flipping the faucet on. He gathers your hair in his hands then moves it over your shoulder so it can fall across your chest when you lean back against him. He brings a hand up to smooth the hair sticking to your sweaty forehead back, placing a sweet kiss to your temple while he does so.

Your eyes flutter closed and you bask in the warmth of his aftercare. Katsuki might be a rockstar in bed, but he really shines in the quiet moments after. He always cares for you like you're something precious that he doesn't want to break. The thought sends a pang of longing through your chest, knowing the security he offers after his rough sex isn't the result of romance.

"Thank you, sir," You sigh out as the water rises over your shaking legs. He smiles against your head, amused at you still addressing him with the name he demands you use in the bedroom, knowing you're still stuck in your obedient headspace.

"Use my name, baby." He says, coaxing you back out of it.

"Thank you, Suki." He hums at the nickname as he reaches for your hand, bringing the back of it to his soft lips.

Soon the water has covered both of your bodies completely, you reach your foot out to turn the faucet off. The heat of the water feels devine against your exhausted muscles, your legs stop trembling and you relax against Katsuki.

"Can we talk?" He asks, head dropping to kiss along the shoulder not covered by your hair.

"What about?" You ask, taking his hand in yours to observe the scars littering his broad palm.

"I meant it." He says, voice deep and intentional.

"Meant what?" You inquire, bringing his hand up to kiss it like he had yours.

"Be mine." He says it like it's obvious, like you should've known better.

Your heart soars at the proposition, but you have to make sure he isn't just talking out of his ass because he's high on endorphins.

"Suki, we agreed that-"

"I know what we fuckin' agreed on." He says gruffly, there's the harsh Bakugo you know.

"I changed my mind." He says, taking a deep breath after changing his tone back to a more caring one.

"Plus I'm doing you a favor." He says, voice laced with mischief.

"How so?" You ask.

"This way you won't have bad sex with lame extras." He states, making you both laugh a little.

"Yeah, good point." You giggle. You turn so you can straddle him, water splashing around you as you do so.

His hands find their home on your waist and his eyes study your face as you settle on his lap.

"You can't have all your ladies though." You sigh, giving a fake pout as you bring your hands up to cradle his face.

"There haven't been any others since this started." His honesty nearly knocks the wind out of you.

"What?" You ask, absolutely dumbfounded.

"Nobody but you." He confirms, leaning up to kiss across your collar bones. He presses his lips into your skin again and again, you pull his face away to look down at him seriously.

"I don't like seeing you with anyone else, I don't want anyone else to have you." He looks up at you through his lashes, an unusual look in his eyes.

"Ok." You breathe out, causing his eyebrows to raise, an almost excited look on his face.

"I'm yours, Suki." You smile down at him. A rare grin spreads across his handsome face and his lips are on yours instantly, kissing you passionately as his arms snake around to grab at your hips.

"Say it again." He mumbles against your lips, still smiling like a fool.

"I'm all yours, Dynamight." You say with a wry smile.

He chuckles, low and dark, before scooping you up by grabbing you under your thighs. You giggle as he pulls you out of the water, he moves quickly back into the bedroom then throws you on the bed. You laugh as you bounce against the mattress.

"What are you doing? We're gonna get the sheets wet!" You yell.

"We already did that, sweetheart." He laughs as he crawls over you.

"Plus, you're my woman now-" He grabs your waist and starts kissing down your stomach, your body reacts to him immediately, head thrown back as his kisses inch lower.

"I've fucked you, now I've gotta make love to you." He says against your hip bone, punctuating his sentence with a sweet bite.

The promise of something so passionate with Bakugo has you reeling. You're more than ready for whatever he has planned for tonight.

"Take me, sparky." You tease, letting him spread your legs.

"Oh baby, I'll do more than that." And just like that, you're seeing stars again.

[fruitcoops]

could you possibly write something about Sirius & remus dating and remus feeling bad that Sirius keeps paying (since obviously he's big deal NHLer v trainer)

Oof, yes. This was combined with asks for some Coops hurt/comfort where one doesn't want to talk, as well as an argument. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for wealth insecurity, small argument (not a blowout)

Grocery shopping had never been Remus’ favorite thing in the world, but he had to admit it was a lot more fun when everything came with the thrilling reminder that he was living with the love of his life. He got to learn Sirius’ preferences on everything from candles (softer scents, or something woodsy) to towels (as fluffy as humanly possible) and filed every detail away in the little pocket of his brain entirely dedicated to the beautiful man that could reach the top shelves.

“What’s next?” he asked an hour into their latest Target excursion.

Sirius tilted his phone to show the screen. “Sheets.”

“I still can’t believe you had a hole in those and didn’t notice,” Remus said with a shake of his head.

“How do you know it wasn’t your fault?” Sirius countered with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

“I’m not the one that runs marathons in my sleep,” Remus laughed, standing on his toes to kiss his stubbly cheek. “Oof. Prickly.”

Sirius scrunched his nose. “You like it.”

“Hmm. Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” he mimicked, bumping Remus’ hip with his own. “What kind do you want?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder as they turned down the next aisle, scanning the shelves of plastic-wrapped packages in a million different patterns. “I like the look of the white ones, but grey or blue could be nice. You?”

“As long as they’re soft and have you in them, I don’t care.”

“Sap,” he teased, though he was unable to fight the blush racing hot up his neck. Sirius didn’t protest; his small, smug smile needed no explanation. Remus pushed the cart slowly down the aisle, making note of the price tags as he went. Sheets were always an expense—not as bad as blankets or, god forbid, a new mattress, but an expense all the same. He had managed to keep his last ones in good condition for almost ten years before they wore out.

The $30 set doesn’t look too bad, but that’s a weird color…Sirius hates microfiber…I’d rather not sleep on puppy print…getting laid on a 1970s paisley pattern would kill me instantly… “How about these?”

He startled and glanced down the aisle, where Sirius was holding a set in faint gray. An unbidden grin pulled at the side of his mouth. “The softest of the bunch, huh?”

“Of course,” Sirius laughed. “Come feel, it’s like heaven.”

Remus pushed off and hopped up on the undercarriage, riding the cart all the way until he reached Sirius’ side; his hand was halfway to the exposed block of fabric when he froze. $186.99, read the price tag below the stack of sheets in varying colors. Almost $200, and the only difference was the softness. “I…” he faltered slightly, looking between Sirius and the sheets for a moment.

“Do you not like them?”

“No, I do,” Remus said as his mind whirred. He had never spent more than a hundred dollars on sheets before. It wasn’t wildly out his budget, especially once he started working with the Lions, but he had always been careful with money. Sirius…Sirius had never had to do that. Never in his life.

“Is it the color? Because they have white ones—”

“It’s 200 dollars,” he almost laughed. Sirius fell quiet in obvious confusion as Remus turned to look at him. “Sirius, those sheets are 200 dollars.”

“Yes?”

“There’s—” Remus broke off again; something a little too much like shame for his liking crawled up his throat. “I—sure, yeah, if you like them.”

“It’s not about what Ilike,” Sirius continued, as if he couldn’t see the discomfort tensing every one of Remus’ muscles. “It’s our bed. I don’t want to get sheets you hate.”

“No, no, they’re nice.” Too nice. Remus forced a smile. “I like them.”

Sirius looked at him for a moment. “Which ones do you prefer?”

The ones that don’t cost the same as my monthly food budget. “Uh, the color threw me off at first,” he said. “The blue ones are better.”

The crease between Sirius’ brows eased by a degree and he kissed Remus’ jaw gently, then switched the sets. “D’accord, mon loup. Whatever makes you happy.”

Remus was as quiet as he could be without arousing suspicion for the rest of the trip. Sirius paid for their things—like always, Remus realized with a turn of his stomach—and helped him carry the bags to the car without another word about the sheets.

He stayed quiet the whole way home.

The shame mounted as they drove. It seemed everything was a sudden, unwelcome reminder of just how different he and Sirius were. Sirius’ family had a chef during his childhood—Remus made himself PB&Js every morning for the entirety of middle school. Sirius had a brand-new car—Remus had never had cause to justify that over public transportation and Uber. It was embarrassing, and Sirius’ unintentional thoughtlessness was more frustrating than he thought it would be.

He didn’t say anything as they pulled up to the house and unloaded their shopping bags; his shirt and jeans itched his skin like sandpaper. Judging from the look on Sirius’ face, he had picked up on Remus’ frustration, but there was no way Remus was going to get into the root of it while he still felt so twitchy.

Damn you and your emotional intelligence, he thought as he slipped past Sirius’ worried glances and up the stairs to their bedroom. Be oblivious for once and let me get through this.

The bed was stripped bare—their duvet and pillows sat in a heap on top of the mattress. Remus thought back to the first night he had slept there, marveling at the cloudlike support on his achy lower back. He had chalked it up to the pure bliss that came with finally having what he really wanted, but his traitorous brain was starting to convince him it wasn’t the joy that made it seem so nice.

He had never gone without food. His parents always made sure he had clothes that mostly fit and the school supplies he needed. They paid for his hockey gear and the team dues until he was old enough to work part-time and start saving his own money; scholarships had always been of a quiet importance in their house. Things got tighter when Jules was born, but they made it work. Remus would always be grateful for that.

Sirius had never had to think about money in that way. Not once.

Remus sighed through his nose as he pulled his battered Wisconsin hoodie over his head and tightened the drawstring of his sweats, letting the comfort envelop him. “It’s not his fault,” he murmured into the mirror. “Don’t get into your head about this.”

Sirius was in the living room when Remus made his way down the stairs with his hands curled into the worn sleeves of the hoodie. He said nothing while Remus began absently cleaning up the scattered items around their junk bowl, though his gaze prickled the back of his neck.

“Mon loup?” came the soft question after two minutes of tense silence.

“Yeah?” he managed around the tightness in his lungs.

He could practically taste Sirius’ hesitation. “Did I—nevermind. Sorry.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said again, though he seemed to be folding in on himself. Remus hated seeing him try and take up less space, and hated the idea that he was the one that caused it.

$200. On sheets.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked, leaning back against the countertop.

“No, I just—” Sirius pasted on a smile and cross the room, dropping a tentative kiss to the top of his head as he passed despite the wary look in his eyes. “Just a thought. It’s nothing.”

“You’re upset.”

“No, no, I’m good.”

“Please don’t lie to me.” It came out harsher than intended and Remus winced. “I mean—Sirius, something is obviously bothering you.”

He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, rubbing his thumbs in small circles over the marble countertop before making brief eye contact. “You’re angry,” he said at last, cautiously. “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Remus said, then paused. Sirius’ face fell. “Well, I’m a little irritated, but—but it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Remus swallowed hard at the kicked-puppy look on Sirius’ face. “It is.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

And that was…honestly, kind of the worst thing he could say. “You don’t get it,” Remus said, staring at the floor. “Sirius, you just spent 200 dollars on sheets.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him more. “You said you liked them.”

“I—” Remus flailed his hand around. “I do! But Jesus, honey, that’s kind of a lot!”

“We both liked the sheets.”

“I don’t know how to tell you that that’s expensive!” he blurted as the words wormed their way out and hung in the air. “Two hundred dollars might be peanuts to you, but that used to be my food budget for the month!”

“Remus—”

“You have never had to budget a day in your life,” he said, quieter. “Your watch probably cost more than a month’s rent for my apartment, you’ve never taken public transportation—”

“Remus—”

“—and you make millions of dollars every year!” He paused, out of breath, and ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “Millions, Sirius. And—and now that we’re together, that we’re living together, it’s just really apparent in a way that it wasn’t before.”

Sirius’ throat bobbed. “I wish you had told me at the store.”

“It’s not about the sheets,” Remus laughed, because there was nothing else he could do other than cry. “We have entirely different views of how much money is worth. You can pay for things for me and I can’t do the same for you, and that feels like shit.”

An unsettling quiet blanketed the whole first floor as Sirius stayed very, very still, like a small animal caught in a trap. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he confessed, barely above a whisper. “You’re right. Money is…it’s not something I’ve had to think about, but I like spending it on you.”

“I don’t like being cared for,” Remus forced out around the grate that had been keeping it down. “I don’t like feeling like I can’t support myself, or that I’m a burden on you and especially that I can’t repay that.”

Sirius finally met his eyes, and he looked appalled. “Remus, you’re never a burden.”

“It feels like it.” He was horrified to feel the burn of tears in his eyes. “Sometimes. When—when you buy nice things for me, or we go on nice vacations, or even when you buy groceries for us for the fifth time in a row, it feels like I’m using you for your money.”

“But you’re not.”

“No!” Remus said immediately. “God, no, never. That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t want you to have to change your lifestyle to make it revolve around me, either. I feel like I’m caught in the middle and there’s no good answer.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, the way that always made Remus feel a little bit like a particularly intricate play he was trying to work out. “What did you want to say at the store?”

“I—what?”

“What did you want to say while we were getting the sheets?”

Remus bit his lip in thought. “Those are too expensive, and I think we should get different ones,” he said eventually. “I like the color and the fabric, but I don’t want to spend that much money on sheets when we could do something else with it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.” The earnest look on Sirius’ face eased some of the bubbling feelings in his chest. “And I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“…why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing to look at your multi-millionaire boyfriend and say, ‘I can’t afford $200 sheets’, Sirius. It sucks. I feel like I can’t measure up.”

Sirius nodded. “I’ve never judged you for your money, not once. Just for the record. There’s nothing I would rather spend it on than making you happy.”

“I don’t want to be sheltered and provided for.” Remus blinked back the last of the tears and closed his eyes. “I want us to be equals. That’s important to me.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t know how to fix this right away.”

“I don’t, either.” Warm fingers brushed the back of his hand and he leaned into Sirius without looking. “Can we try and figure it out, though? As a team?”

“Yes, captain,” he snorted, feeling Sirius’ soft huff on the top of his head. They stood silently for a few seconds before Remus let go of his tension with a slow exhale. “I don’t think a joint bank account is a good idea yet, but maybe we can start by alternating who buys groceries? Or something small like that. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, not with you. I love you too much.”

Sirius nuzzled into his hair for a moment before lips pressed against his temple. “How about we start by making the bed?”

The pressure on Remus’ chest eased. Making the bed was easy. They had the exact same method for it, a function of Sirius growing up with a militant mother and Remus’ aunts lovingly terrorizing him into learning how to do hospital corners. It was an olive branch that he could happily accept with a light squeeze around Sirius’ waist. Baby steps, he thought. We’ll deal with the big stuff when we’re better settled. He offered a half-smile to Sirius. “What are we waiting for?”

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you and harry meet again after six months.

a/n: hiiii! this is for @theharriediaries fic challenge! the photo used is the one on the left of the banner, and the dialogue i chose was ‘Is this seat taken?’ ‘By you, I hope.’ & ‘I’m sorry it took us this long.’ thank you for creating this challenge, soph!

thank you @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, mwah! <3

WORD COUNT: 12k of dad!harry with slight angst and fluff (pls appreciate the dilfrry dialogues in this lmao)

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘THE TRAIN RIDE BACK TO US’ I’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

The gold bell chimed quite loudly, informing the baristas that someone had entered their shop. The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans immediately filled your senses once you pushed open the sage green door as the smell feeling of nostalgia and comforted you. 

Everything looked the same in the coffee shop. The oak wood floor never changed with coffee stains in certain areas that didn’t quite seem to come off all the way, no matter how hard the employees scrubbed—but it gave the shop character, in your opinion. Different colored potted plants filled the shop in every corner and on the clean white windowsill, making the place look lively. Crisp oxygen mixed with Columbian coffee beans flowed around the shop, making customers want to come back to a comfortable environment. Black and white bistro tables sat within the café, with silver metal bases, holding the circular table tops up as they alternated with colors along the built-in brown bench against the light-gray colored wall; with matching black and white metal chairs that practically screeched against the oak wood floors when someone was trying to scoot in or out of the table. 

The entire shop was the exact same from what you remembered it to be six months ago. The only difference was that when you sat on the wooden bench, specifically at the black table in the corner that was right next to the window, the person who was supposed to be in front of you wouldn’t be there; and for that, your heart dropped a little. 

Trying not to think too much about your change of mood, you ordered your usual—an iced mocha latte with a pump of sweet vanilla syrup—before you paid and turned around to see which tables were available. The usual corner table was staring right at you, practically mocking you, and you wished that the table was occupied, but then you would’ve felt wrong sitting at a different table when yours was clearly open. 

You took your seat on the bench, and almost immediately, you started shaking your leg underneath the table. Your seat felt hot, as if the wood was catching fire underneath you, burning your legs and making you antsy. 

Luckily, the shop wasn’t crowded so it took the baristas less than six minutes to make your drink and to call out your name from behind the counter. Quickly, standing up from the burning hot seat, you made your way to the counter, thanking Mel for the drink. Since coming here, you had become quite a constant in the cute Portland coffee shop. Mel was one of the employees that had worked at the shop the longest, so she made everyone’s drinks because she knew the menu the best. So, you caught up with her a bit, and inevitably, she asked where you had been. 

“You didn’t find a better coffee shop did you?” She teased, making you chuckle. 

“No, I’ve just been, uh, too busy to come around. But I promise, your drinks and shop are still the best,” you said truthfully, to which she beamed. To this day, you hadn’t found a superior coffee shop than ‘Coava’ because the others just didn’t compare—they didn’t make you feel the same way you did with this one. “But thanks for the coffee.” You gave her one last smile before you turned around to make your way back to your table. 

And then the bell chimed. 

It was as if the sun was peeking out through the clouds; the sun beams strongly pointed down onto the wet pavement after a night of rain, leaving the air with its pleasant smell of petrichor. He was the light that seeped through the curtains, and you knew it was going to be a lovely day. 

“Harry…” you stopped in your tracks, careful not to spill the contents of your coffee cup. Your heart skipped several beats once he flashed you his gorgeous smile that you were still hopelessly in love with. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry mindlessly played with the buttons of his coat as he mentally tried to situate the nerves in his head and stomach. His breath felt like it was stuck in his throat, making his voice slightly trail off with a crack to the tone. 

It felt like the two of you were the only ones in the coffee shop—minus the locals who were sitting at the tables, minding their own business, or wondering what the fuck they were doing standing in the middle of the shop—completely and fully captured by the other’s stare and presence. 

The loud screeching noise of steam took you out of your dazy trance as you cleared your throat. Harry looked down at his feet before looking up at you through his lashes, shyly intertwining his hands behind his back. 

“Uh, would you like to join me?” 

Harry raised his brows at your proposal, pursing his lips to contain his giddy excitement. “S-Sure.” You took a deep breath before you started to walk towards the table in the corner—one he was also very familiar with. “This seat...Is this seat taken?” He asked politely but, almost instantly, mentally cursed himself because you wouldn’t have invited him if you were with someone. 

You didn’t catch his slip up, instead, you smiled as your face grew warm. “By you, I hope.” Harry blushed, taking a seat on the black metal chair across from you. 

“So, how’ve you been? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” you mentioned. 

It’d been six months since the last time you saw and sat in front of Harry—a very long six months. The conversation six months ago wasn’t the most happiest of memories because that  conversation brought in the heartache and heartbreak; the chat had included the mutual separation of your relationship that involved tears, chest pain, and as always, the smell of Colombian coffee that surrounded your afflictive conversation, hoping it would calm the tension between you two. 

“Yeah, it has been a while, but I’m doing okay. How are you?” 

“I’m good.” There was a bit of awkwardness swirling in the air, and you absolutely despised it—you wanted it to leave the shop and never return. You had always imagined what it would be like bumping into Harry again, more importantly, what you would say to him. And despite all those moments daydreaming of finding the right words, you were completely stuck, and you fully blamed it on the awkward tension. “Can we not be…y’know, awkward? That’s not us,” you simply said. 

Harry let out a sigh of relief, adding a breathy laugh. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re right, that isn’t us at all.” Mel brought him an iced black coffee since it was his usual, and she saw that he didn’t get the chance to order because he was immediately occupied by the sight of you. He softly thanked her with a smile, only taking his attention off of you for a split second before his eyes were right back on you; he didn’t know what this conversation would lead to, nor did he want to get his hopes up, so that meant spending every moment with his complete attention and eyes averted to you. “I miss you…” he said. 

There was a sense of relief as you exhaled deeply, glad that he wasn’t the only one who was missing the other. His words had brought a flutter of butterflies to your stomach, soaring as they pleased while your face felt warm. 

You and Harry had been together for a year and a half before calling it quits. For most of the relationship, it was happiness and bliss—occasional fights, but they weren’t frequent—towards the last few months however, things were getting a bit stressful. You remembered the days like it was yesterday as the vivid memory crept inside of your head...

It was nearing nine in the evening and the house was quiet. The silence was louder than the ongoing noise inside your head that was constantly yelling at you, making your head ache from the incessant thoughts. It was safe to say that you weren’t happy, and that even Harry wasn’t happy either. But you had only gotten a glimpse of him during the evening, so you were simply assuming that he wasn’t content—but it was a very logical assumption since every time he looked at you, it seemed like he was becoming more stressed out by the minute; as if he didn’t already have a lot on his plate during the day, and by night, he would still have to deal with whatever argument and fight either of you would pick for no apparent reason. 

It started with petty little arguments, getting annoyed and frustrated at the other because of burnt toast or something as small as running out of detergent for the laundry. But fighting over nothing had turned into completely confessing that you weren’t happy anymore, and that the exhaustion had gotten to you. 

“I-I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Harry,” you said in between your sobs that you tried to contain. “All we’re doing is hurting each other—we’re not even happy together anymore!” 

It felt like his heart was exploding, but it was the truth. “Darling…” 

“You can’t lie and tell me that we’re happy together because it’s obvious that we’re not.” You wiped the tears from your face, leaving your skin damp from the moisture. 

Harry sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t argue anymore. He felt defeated and upset with himself; it was like he was doing well in everything else or at least trying, and he couldn’t even do his part in being a good boyfriend to you. He knew part of the reason why both of you weren’t happy was because of the neglectance, and both of you were too exhausted to even communicate that feeling. You two were both independent entrepreneurs—always knowing when to close business and how to make a well deserved investment or sale with others who were trying to buy whatever stock or product. But when it came down to each other, to Y/N and Harry, it seemed like the individuals that were trying to please and charm others had dissipated, leaving no room or patience for each other. 

“We’re both busy, Harry, I get that. And maybe it’s best if we call it quits until everything settles down—until we both know what we want—”

“I want you,” he interrupted. 

You softly huffed, looking down at your lap as you slightly nodded before you looked up at him again. He had tears streaming down his face and more forming in his eyes; you loved that he wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to show his true emotions—he was being vulnerable every time he let his guard down, and for that, you would appreciate him forever. 

Muffled, static cracks followed by quiet little groans were heard from the baby monitor on the coffee table. Harry glanced at it before looking back at you, knowing he had to take care of his number one priority, and who were you to stop him? So, you nodded, tilting your head towards the room, and he sadly smiled before heading towards the nursery. 

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote ‘Meet me at Coava tomorrow. Usual time.’ before you placed it on the coffee table beside the monitor. As you were leaving, you heard soft humming coming from the baby monitor, and your heart squeezed, frowning as this was most likely going to be the last time you were going to be in this house. Taking one look around, you took in all of the memories that you made in the building that made you feel safe and warm before you stepped out, immediately welcomed by the cool temperatures of the evening. 

The next afternoon when you walked into Coava, Harry was already sitting at the usual table you two sat at. His head was down, mindlessly wiping down the condensation that formed outside of his glass. You took a seat in front of him without saying a word, making him look up. He had dark circles around eyes as he hadn’t gotten much sleep. 

“Hi,” you whispered. There was your usual cup of iced coffee placed in front of you. “Thank you for the coffee.” 

He nodded and smiled softly, despite his current mood. “Hello.” 

You took a deep breath. “So…where do we go from here?” 

Harry sadly looked at you with desperation in his eyes that spoke, no, begged you to tell him to stay, to tell him that you two could and would work this out. But it seemed like you hadn’t received that specific message from his green and sorrowful eyes. 

“You were right…We haven’t been able to make time for one another. So, we’ll just…take some time apart.” His heart and voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it hard to even form a sentence that didn’t absolutely break him. You nodded, agreeing, but it didn’t hurt any less; you knew this would be best for the two of you because both of you had to focus on yourselves, especially when Harry had his priorities, such as his family, which you weren’t going to make him change whatsoever. “Okay…so, we’re over.” He hadn’t said it as a question but rather a way to see that realization. 

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his, and you were lucky that he didn’t pull away. “Harry, this doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I…will always love you.” 

“And I’ll always love you too,” he said honestly. 

Behind the civil and mature conversation that occurred, there was sadness and heartbreak. There were no more smiles or laughs, no more love and affection, or anymore meet-ups during lunch or coffee dates during breaks. The painful look on Harry’s face had only pained you even more, but you both knew this split-up and time apart was for the best. 

That was six months ago. 

Now, as you sat across Harry, you felt an overwhelming rush of relief and joy; he just looked happier and you saw a familiar glint in his eyes as he looked at you. It may not be the same sparkle of love as it once was, which you were afraid it wasn’t, but there was still some kind of sparkle—the kind someone would give when they reunite with an old friend. 

“The kids miss you—they miss you a lot.” 

Your eyes look at him fondly at the mention of his children. “Really?” 

“Yeah, they do. They said, and I quote, they miss their ‘pretty fairy second mom,’” Harry said quite proudly. 

Harry had three kids that you absolutely adored. There was Mira and Estelle, seven-year-old twins that looked like their father. Mira was very energetic and talkative—that little girl could talk for hours on end without missing a beat; Estelle was more quiet and reserved, but once you started hanging around, she opened up and was quite fun to have a laugh with. Then there was the sweet little two-year-old boy, Rory, who resembled his mother. He was always babbling and giggling, so happy and free. 

If Harry was being honest, Rory was a complete accident. Him and his ex had separated and broken up when the twins were four, but they were still seeing each other. Those occasional hangouts led to another child, which they both thought would help them bond, but six months into the pregnancy, they both knew it wasn’t right anymore—not like before. So, they stuck to coparenting and, if they were speaking the truth, it was much better than being together. 

When Rory was six months old, that was when Harry met you. On an unexpected literal run in the park when you and Harry were on your daily runs, the trail was only narrow and small enough for one person to run. So, when you and Harry were running towards each other, you braced yourself for the awkwardness you were about to face with the man. Harry politely smiled, moving to his left, only for you to move to your right, which made you both giggle. The two of you then moved to the opposite side, only to clash again. The thought was quite hilarious to the two of you, so you both started laughing, clutching your stomachs. Once you two calmed down, Harry then said that he was going to his left, so you moved to your left, running the opposite directions from each other. 

At the end of the trail and on your way to the parking lot, you saw Harry finish the same trail but exit from the other side. And if it said anything more, you parked right next to his car as well. Harry smiled, dimples flashing and asked you how your run was, which then led to a bit of small talk. In the six minutes you two were talking, Harry made the impulsive decision to ask you if you would like some coffee. He wouldn’t have asked if it were anyone else, and until that moment he didn’t even know  if he was ready to date again. But he took the chance and decided to ask you, and luckily, you said yes. 

The rest was history. 

“I miss them so much too.” You smiled softly, thinking about the kids that you had thought of as your own. 

“I, uh, I know it’s too much to ask, but I figured I should ask either way…Would you like to see them? Mira would never live it down if I told them that I saw you and didn’t ask if you wanted to see them.” He added a chuckle at the end, nerves creeping up his skin. 

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You’d let me see them?” 

Harry raised his brows. “Yeah, of course! You could see them anytime you want, if you’d like. Just because we’re not, y’know, together doesn’t mean that you can’t see them. I know how much you love them and how much they love you too,” he reassured. 

“Would Laurie be okay with that?” You asked about his ex and the mother of said children. 

He nodded. “Yeah, she would. I mean, she also knows how much they love you.” Harry was lucky that the mother of his children and his ex was so kind and chill with having someone that Harry loved be ‘another mother’ to her children; all Laurie really asked of you was to not try and replace her role as their mom and to always keep them safe when she wasn’t around, and who were you to disrespect her wishes? 

“Harry, I would love to, thank you. I really do miss them.” You felt yourself getting a bit emotional because of how much you missed the kids, and it’d felt like an eternity since you last saw them. 

“Great! Tomorrow is the weekend, so are you free to go to the park and maybe get some ice cream after?” 

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” You smiled, not too widely as you tried to contain your excitement. 

Harry smiled back at you before quickly looking at his phone to check the time. “I gotta get back. But I’ll see you tomorrow and will text you the details tonight.” 

“Okay, see you soon.” You stood up to hug him, and his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his chest. His stomach was doing flips as he felt your breath against the crook of his neck. He didn’t want the moment to end, and it was the most physical contact that you two had in six months. 

Pulling away, he offered you a smile before bidding you goodbye, and you finally let out the breath you had been holding the moment the bell chimed and the man you still loved walked in. 

A soft blush was planted on Harry’s cheeks for the entire day. He was driving from work to Laurie’s house to pick up his beloved children as he thought about how his day turned out to be. 

In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to see you in the coffee shop that you two had gone to throughout the entirety of your relationship. He had just gotten out of a meeting and was debating on going to Coava because he hadn’t been there since the day you two called it quits, but he figured it was time and thought that maybe reminiscing on the memories you two had with each other wasn’t a bad thing. So, he walked into that shop thinking he was just going to get a coffee to-go, but he had gone in there and left with something so much better. 

The moment his eyes landed on yours his mind had screamed and reassured him that he wasn’t just dreaming that you were standing right in front of him, he felt his stomach drop in the best way. The heat had rushed to his cheeks, tugging on the corners of his lips, urging his mouth to smile, and he did not hold back his joy when he saw you. You were beautiful, just like he remembered, but he had no doubt that there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t not absolutely stunning. 

And the giddy feeling he felt when he asked you if you’d like to see the kids made his heart tumble inside of his chest as he couldn’t wait for you and the kids to finally see each other again. 

Harry pulled into Laurie’s driveway, and he quickly got out and knocked on the door, waiting for Laurie to answer. He chuckled as he could practically hear the twins screaming from across the house to make sure they had everything they needed. When the door opened, he was met by his ex that he once loved, and still had some platonic love for her, naturally, as the mother of his children. 

“Hey, Harry! They’re just getting their stuff ready,” she greeted with a smile, opening the door wider as she walked away from the entrance and let him in. She grabbed Rory from the couch, who was mindlessly playing with a giant puzzle piece, and gave him many kisses to his cheeks before saying goodbye to her son and handing him off to Harry. 

Rory’s eyes lightened up at the sight of his father. “Dada!”

“Hi, my sweet boy. I’ve missed you.” He placed soft kisses to his chubby and squeezable cheeks. 

“Girls, dad’s waiting!” Laurie called out from the bottom of the stairway before turning back towards Harry. “Why do you look like that?” She gave him a knowing look. 

“Like what?” Harry asked, acting like he didn’t know what she was talking about. The blush really gave him away, he thought. 

“You’re just…extra happy today.” 

“Can’t I be happy, Laurie? To see my kids?” He teased, smirking as he hugged Rory to his chest. 

“I mean, sure, but…did something happen today?” 

His smile widened, and it was like he couldn’t contain the exciting feeling anymore and he just had to tell someone. “I saw Y/N today.” 

Her brows raised. “Really? How is she?” 

“She’s doing well, yeah. We talked for a little bit.” Was all that he told her. 

“And I’m assuming it went well.” He nodded, not wanting to tell her more. “Well, that’s great, Harry. She was, is, a lovely woman and she took care of the kids, so that’s all that matters to me,” Laurie said genuinely; she wasn’t jealous, if she was being honest. All that mattered to her was that her kids were in good hands. 

Suddenly more footsteps were coming down the stairs. “Dad!” The twins yelled at the same time. He put Rory down for a moment before he bent down to hug his two girls. 

“Hi, my loves. How are you?” He kissed both of their cheeks, making their small arms hug him tighter. 

“Dad, I scored one hundred percent on all my spelling tests, so I’m qualified for the spelling bee!” Mira explained excitedly once she let go of Harry. 

“Really?! That’s amazing, bug. This week, I’ll help you study for it.” Mira beamed at that before walking over to her mom to say bye. 

“How are you, my sunshine?” He directly asked Estelle, knowing that she was specifically waiting for Harry to have his attention on only her. Even though she’d never told him that, he could tell that sometimes Estelle lets Mira have her moment and wanted to speak with Harry when no one else was paying attention. 

“I’m good. My teacher told me I could become a math…mathmat—daddy, what are they called?” She looked at Harry for help. 

“Look at you, sunshine! I’m so proud of you my little mathematician.” Estelle’s eyes widened. “Is that you meant mathematician, sweetheart?” He smiled. 

“Yes, that! I did good on my math test and even baked cookies for you!” Before Harry could say anything, Estelle ran off to the kitchen to grab the plate of cookies she baked last night. 

“Alright, babies, let’s go. Say bye to mommy.” The kids said their goodbyes before Harry safely buckled them into their car seats and drove home for a week at their father’s. 

When all four of them reached the front door, Harry told the twins to put their belongings away and wash up for dinner. He set Rory down in his high chair before cutting up some bananas in halves, and placing them on the plastic table in front of him for his pre-dinner snack. Knowing that his kids liked home cooked meals better than takeout, fortunately, he set out the ingredients to make some fried rice, which was quick and easy. 

The twins rushed down the stairs once Harry put the leftover rice into the pan filled with sautéed veggies, and they settled onto the couch in front of the TV, waiting for dinner.

“Loves, set the table for me, please!” He called out from the kitchen as he transferred the rice from the pan to a large bowl, topping it with green onions. The girls each had a task for setting the table; Mira was in charge of forks and spoons, and Estelle handled the plates since she was less clums. He rolled Rory’s high chair over to the table, which he was so lucky to have gotten a high chair with wheels because it was so much easier to move him without carrying him and the chair; and he gave everyone an equal scoop, depending on how much they ate, and if they wanted seconds, he would be glad to serve them more. 

As they ate, Harry was occasionally helping Rory eat the rice, just picking up the contents that didn’t make it into his mouth, as Estelle and Mira both took turns talking. Harry loved family dinner, he tried his very best to give all three of his children the attention that they deserved, but dinner was the one time they bonded the most because no one felt competitive or had the urge to start an argument when there was food in front of them. 

“Daddy, how was your day?” Estelle asked curiously, and Harry smiled at his sunshine, as if she was the sun itself, heart swooning. 

“It was great, thanks for asking, my love.” He placed his spoon on his plate. “I actually wanted to talk to you all about something.” The twins didn’t respond, just stared at him, encouraging him to continue. “Do you remember Y/N?” Just at the sound of your name, the crowd went absolutely wild. 

“Y/N, yes!” Screamed Estelle, which was rare for her to raise her voice. 

“Pretty, fairy second mom, of course we remember her, dad!” Mira exclaimed obviously. 

“Fairy!” Rory had repeated the only word he could make out from Mira’s mouth as he fussed because of the volume that had increased from his sisters. 

Harry laughed. “Alright, okay, settle down. Well, I saw her today.” The twins gasped, making him chuckle. It genuinely felt like he was on a talk show with a live audience. “And I wanted to ask you all if you wanted to see her tomorrow? Figured we could go to the park and get some ice cream together?” He asked hesitantly, even though he knew they’d say yes, and he’d get another chance to see you again. 

“Yes!” The girls both answered. 

Harry beamed, turning to Rory. “Bubba, remember Y/N? Your slide friend? Remember you used to go on the slide with Y/N?” Rory giggled, a sound that was Harry’s weakness, and nodded. “Do you wanna see her tomorrow?” 

“Slide with fairy?” Rory asked, and Harry laughed. 

“Yes, slide with fairy,” he confirmed, and Rory nodded his head eagerly. 

Harry smiled, glad his kids were with the plans tomorrow. The rest of the dinner was filled with the twins talking about you; they talked about what you all could do together at the park and what they wanted to show you, and Harry would be lucky if they slept through the entire night without continuously waking up because of their excitement for the upcoming afternoon. 

Once everything was cleaned up and put away, the twins washed and cleaned, Harry give Rory a bath, and everyone was ready for bed, Harry said good night to his babies, spending about five minutes cuddling and talking them to sleep until they fluttered their eyes closed and off to slumber. 

Sighing, Harry closed his door, leaving the baby monitor from Rory’s room on his bedside table before he was able to unwind for the day. He always spent an extra amount of time on his skin care routine, figuring that he sometimes didn’t have time for himself and the only time he had was during nights. 

When he was ready for bed, he felt a huge amount of relief to be getting into bed after a long but grateful day, and he picked up his phone and clicked on your message thread. The last time you two texted was a few weeks after the breakup, asking if you were doing okay, and he could practically feel the awkward tension through the texts as he reread them. But he was glad that this time would be a much lighter and better conversation. 

Hi, Y/N. Hope this is the right number still. But if it is, kids are on board for tomorrow. Does 12:30 work for you? We could meet at the usual park. If it’s not Y/N, please don’t meet at the usual park because the kids are not on board. 

You chuckled at the end of his text, happy to see that Harry is always trying to make jokes and be the comedian. 

Hi, Harry! Don’t worry, this is Y/N. Probably would have hunted the person with my number down to get tomorrow’s plans. But that sounds perfect! I can't wait to see the kids tomorrow. See you then! 

Harry softly smiled at his phone, not feeling the need to respond and figured he would talk to you a lot more tomorrow while the kids are playing. He stared at the message for quite some time, completely blank as he couldn’t believe the chances that he happened to see you at the shop six months after the breakup, and now he’s making plans with you tomorrow; his jaw was aching from smiling so much. 

A few minutes later, he put his phone away to change before he comfortably situated himself under the blanket, feeling the heaviness of his eyes. But once he felt himself starting to drift away into dreamland, his phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he tried his best to ignore it, but curiosity got the best of him, so he picked up his phone and opened the new message. 

And I can’t wait to see you tomorrow too.  

And just like that, Harry was wide awake, struggling to sleep, but a smile permanently etched on his face for the night. 

The day that everyone in the Styles’ household had been waiting for had finally arrived. Luckily, the kids had gotten their needed hours of sleep; Harry had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but when the sun seeped through his curtains, he didn’t dread getting up for the day. Instead, he felt a rush of eagerness, instantly remembering what the day held for him and his kids, and he jumped right out of bed. 

Once the four of them were out of the house, Harry had successfully fed, cleaned, and changed his children with no complaints. The house and car ride was filled with conversations about how excited they were to see you again, asking how many more hours there was until they got to see you and if they were almost at the park. 

Screams bounced off the roof of the car once Harry parked on the side of the curb; the twins had already taken their seatbelts off, getting antsy as they waited for their dad to open the car from the outside. Harry unbuckled Rory, carrying him until he rounded on the other side of the car to open the door for the twins. They quickly jumped out, clearly excited, but Harry did not forget to remind them that this was still a public area and anything could happen. 

“Girls, slow down, please.” Estelle was holding Harry’s hand as Mira was holding her sister’s; Harry was still carrying Rory in his arms because his sister’s were practically lugging Harry with all their might, trying to get to their usual spot, so he didn’t want Rory to get hurt. “Loves, you know Y/N would tell you the exact same thing. Please, just slow down for me.” He pulled the Y/N card on them, knowing that they were better listeners with you than they are with him. 

Once they were all close enough, they spotted a thick beige blanket under the tree with a picnic basket, and you sitting on top of it, setting everything up. 

“Y/N!” The girls both screamed, Estelle letting go of Harry’s hand as they both ran towards you. 

You looked up at the sound of your name, eyes brightening at the little girls running. “My Princesses! Hi, my loves!” You opened your arms widely, inviting the twins into your arms— they practically collided into your arms, making you fall onto your back since you didn’t get the chance to stand up—and embracing them with a big hug. Laughs came out of all of your mouths as wide smiles permanently stayed on your faces. “Oh, I missed you two so much!” You kissed both of their cheeks, making them giggle. You stood up, helping the girls up and brushed their clothes off with your hand from the grass. Harry and Rory were in sight, and Harry put the little boy down, making Rory run towards you. “My sweetheart, oh, you’ve gotten so big.” You hugged Rory to your chest, placing your hand behind his head as your other arm wrapped around his small body. 

You were glad that Rory still had some memory of you, and didn’t shy away behind his father’s leg. You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, taking in his baby scent that you always loved. 

After Rory was starting to fuss in your arms, most likely due to feeling overwhelmed from the lack of space, you let go of him before standing up. 

“Hi, Y/N,” Harry greeted, offering a hug, which you gladly took. 

You rubbed his back. “Hi, Harry. I’m so glad I’m here with you all.” You pulled away, smiling at him. Harry’s heart pounded against his chest at the sight of you smiling up at him. His heart did a backflip at the sight of your gorgeous smile, trickling all the way down to his stomach where it triggered the butterflies to release from the net. 

“Please, we were all really excited to see you. So, thank you for agreeing.” His hand innocently ran down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. 

You turned around to look at the kids who were making themselves comfortable on the blanket. You and Harry joined them as you sat in between Estelle and Rory, and Harry sat in between Mira and Rory. 

“Okay, so I made some sandwiches. You all still like grilled cheese, right?” You hoped, and the twins nodded; you turned towards Rory. “What about you, sweet pea? Grilled cheese?” At the sound of cheese, Rory nodded his head and clapped his hands, making you smile. 

Harry was so lost in his mind and heart that he was simply so distracted in helping you out as you unwrapped the sandwiches from the foil, putting them on a paper plate. He was just so fond of watching you interact with his children so naturally, like there was no time that was wasted when you and Harry were apart. And he was especially happy that the kids still loved you just as much as they did when you two were together; and how they still kept talking about you despite the breakup. 

Aside from you and Harry, the kids had taken the breakup the hardest. From the knowledge they had based on what Harry and Laurie told them, they understood that their mommy and daddy couldn’t be together anymore due to adult reasons; it took them a while to adjust to that, but they eventually managed and figured it was better and more fun. But when Harry had to break the news on why they wouldn’t be seeing their ‘Pretty Fairy Second Mom’ anymore, they took it harder than expected. They simply looked at it as you didn’t want to see them anymore, which wasn’t the case at all, Harry explained. 

“Sometimes adults need to take some time apart, loves. That does not mean that Y/N doesn’t love you anymore because she does very much, I can tell you that. But it's good to have some time to yourself, especially in a relationship.” 

“But daddy, I thought you were gonna be together forever with Y/N,” Estelle spoke up, tears in her eyes. He was lucky that his kids loved you so much, and he never doubted that they weren’t going to. But his fear had come true when you two called it quits and he had to tell them the truth. 

“And maybe we will, but as for right now, it’s best to be apart. Sometimes being apart saves the relationship rather than letting it burn,” he told them honestly, which was the best as he could explain it. 

“D-Does Y/N still love you?” Mira asked softly. It wasn’t like Mira to be so soft spoken, which meant that the breakup had affected her deeply. 

Harry sighed, grabbing both of their small hands. “She does,” he replied for the sake of more tears coming out of their eyes—plus, he was taking your word for it back at the cafe. “And she also loves you all so much too,” he reminded them again. What he really wanted to say was that maybe one day you two will get back together, but he really didn’t want to get their hopes up. 

Looking back on his conversation from half a year ago, he was glad that he told them the truth on why you two broke up. He didn’t want to confuse his children even further, making them completely oblivious to the situation—he just wanted to be honest with them because he hoped you two would meet again and get back together at some point. 

“Harry, would you like one?” You asked, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts. He smiled, nodding, not trusting his voice to speak; and you gladly handed him a plate with a sandwich, pouring some chips onto the side—his favorite chips, you still remembered. 

“Thank you.” He smiled softly. The corners of your lips turned up as you bashfully looked at the picnic basket in front of you. You placed Rory’s plate in front of him as he seemed to have crawled to sit closer to you, and you cut out his sandwich into small pieces, along with cutting his grapes in half. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He stopped you from what you were doing, ready to take Rory from your side as he didn’t want you to feel obligated to take care of him.

“Oh, if you don’t want me to, that’s fine. But I wouldn’t mind feeding him a bit.” 

“If you want to.” 

You gave him the sweetest grin, and Harry was lucky to be sitting down because his knees would give out on him if he were standing. “I want to.” He only nodded, a crimson color laid on his cheeks. 

Harry comfortably watched as you made conversation with the twins as you fed Rory. You always gave them your undivided attention; your expression always lit up everytime they talked about something they were passionate about or interested in, and it just made Harry fall even more with how you were always so supportive in what his kids loved. You were always uplifting them, never dragging their hopes and dreams down. 

After everyone was finished with their meals and had time to digest their food, the twins asked if they could go on the swings and Harry said yes. The tree that they were under was only a few feet away, so Harry had a clear view of his girls. 

“You’re, like, a magician.” Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence once the girls were safely on the swing. 

You chuckled. “How’s that?” 

“It’s like hiring a magician at a party—everyone is so excited to see what they do and see them in general—you’re like that; the girls and Rory were so excited to see you.” 

You playfully gasped, holding Rory to your chest. “You were excited to see me? Well, I was excited to see you!” You booped his nose, making Rory giggle. 

“Fairy!” He exclaimed, and you and Harry laughed. Rory was a quiet two-year-old, but he picked up on keywords that he repeatedly said. 

“So, are you seeing anyone?” You cut to the chase, skipping the small talk.

Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Nope. Not entirely sure if anyone wants to date a thirty-four-year-old with three kids.” 

You raised your brows in shock, and he knew that look you’re giving him very well—prepared to tease him; even though you weren’t that much younger than him either. “What? Do you think no one wants to date a hot dad? Harry, you’re peak-dilf, everyone wants to date you.” 

“And what about you? Do you wanna date me? A dilf?” He teased; a smirk that you knew all too well appeared on his face, making you want to kiss it off, which was what you used to do. 

Pursing your lips and cheeks heating up, you gave him an obvious look before you said, “Think you know the answer to that one, baby.” In all honesty, the pet name had slipped, and for a brief moment your eyes widened at the realization, but you brushed it off and continued with your confident and teasing attitude; and it worked quite well on Harry because he definitely heard what you used to call him loud and clear. It made his heart flutter as he missed you calling him that; he never wanted to hear that name come out of anyone else’s mouth because only yours would do it justice. 

Harry was left to ponder about your response before you changed the subject, talking to Rory. “Sweets, do you wanna go on the slide?” The little boy jumped up and down, pulling your arm as he had a big smile on his face. You looked at Harry, and he gave you a nod, telling you that he would stay put and watch your belongings. 

You and Rory walked hand in hand, or more like hand and finger, to the slide. It was an open purple slide with two sides, and it lasted about two seconds if you slid correctly and if the slide was slippery enough. You helped Rory step onto the playground as the dull metal steps were quite high for him to reach on his own before you guided him towards the slide. 

Sitting down at the top and on the edge of the slide, you carried Rory into your lap, hyping him up for what he had been waiting for. “Ready, sweets? Are you ready?” Your tone was pure excitement as you squeezed and tickled his belly. 

“Go, Y/N, go!” Directed Rory, and you scooted forward and held onto the sweet boy in your arms tightly as you two slid down the slide. Mouthfuls of squealing screams and giggles came from Rory’s mouth as he clapped his hands towards the end of the slide, causing you to cheer as well. 

And the proper dad that he was, Harry clicked the red button on the screen to stop recording you and Rory from the slide. He zoomed in, capturing the bright smiles placed on his sweet boy’s and the love of his life’s face, screenshotting the perfect frame. He didn’t think the day could have gone any better than this; it was quite the perfect day, he thought. 

When it was rounding two in the afternoon, Rory’s eyes were starting to droop, exhaustion taking over him from running around for almost an hour that his little body couldn’t keep up, so a nap was in his favor. He lazily looked up at you, reaching his arms up for you to carry him, which you happily held him. He settled his head on your shoulder, and it only took a few kisses and back rubs for him to be out like a light while the sun still shined in his face. 

You walked over to the blanket, figuring it was time to call it a day at the park; Harry and the twins were running around nearby on the bedded grass area playing tag. They retreated to the blanket once they saw you with Rory in your arms, breaths heavy from their run. 

“Oh, my sweet, sweet boy.” Harry sighed when he got to spot under the tree; you handed Rory to him, admiring the two boys cuddling as Harry pressed quiet and soft kisses to his son’s head. Since your lap was available, Estelle and Mira took the chance to finally be able to properly cuddle you since Rory was taking most of your attention. The girls took one leg each, and you wrapped your arms around their waist, kissing their shoulder. 

The five of you stayed put for a while, calming down under the breezy weather that had started to pick up until it got even colder was when Harry decided it was time to leave. Luckily the girls were still awake to help with cleaning up, and were rather helpful because Harry was trying his best with Rory situated on one side of his body. 

Once all of you were next to your cars, Harry placed Rory in his car seat as you were hugging the girls goodbye. You and Harry agreed that everyone was too tired to go out for some ice cream since all the twins wanted to do was lie down. Harry knew he didn’t want the day to end, even though it was still quite early, but the older he got, the tougher it was to keep up with his little children who just loved running around; a relaxing and peaceful night was calling him. 

“Hey.” Harry closed the passenger door before he rounded the car to meet you on the grass. “I know we talked about going for ice cream today, but it seemed like we’re all too tired, but I was wondering…” he paused for a moment, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. “Would you like to come over? Maybe…for dinner, or to have a glass or w-water?” He scratched the back of his neck, nerves getting the best of him. 

You smiled, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was flustered. “Harry, I’d love to. Feels like I haven’t drank any water so I’m parched,” you teased. 

He breathed out a laugh. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you home.” He gave you another smile before walking away and inside of his car, completely unaware of his choice of words. 

Home. More specifically, Harry’s home. It was a place that made you feel safe, and if you’re being honest, it’s been too long since you’d had complete solace. 

Your mental pep-talk throughout the drive toward Harry’s had helped in some way. Keeping it simple without driving your mind into overthinking every single thought, you laid it all down as if you were planning and preparing a business proposal. 

You didn’t want to dive deep into what Harry’s invitation could entail—more like you didn’t want to get your hopes up on if you two were to get back together because the potential rejection you could face would absolutely crush you. Harry’s a kind and sweet guy, he’s simply inviting a friend over for a drink and dinner, if you could even call yourself that. Plus, it was still early to fully call it a day, and he planned for ice cream after the park, so he was fulfilling that promise of sweet dessert. 

Without realizing, you’d been sitting in your car for a solid five minutes, staring over your steering wheel as you were parked on the curb in front of Harry’s house. Harry’s car was already in the driveway, so they were just waiting on you. 

You walked towards the front door, and it swung open before you even got the chance to knock. 

“Hey, thought you’d change your mind when you weren’t getting out of the car,” Harry joked, although that thought really crossed his mind when he peeked out through the window and saw you still in your car. 

You chuckled nervously. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t.” You stepped inside his house, and a wave of nostalgia rushed through you as if you were at the beach and the harsh current knocked you over as you were trying to walk against the sandy wind. 

Everything still looked the same—the same since the night you left without another word to the kids, just a note to Harry telling you to meet at the shop. A pinch of guilt appeared in your face as you frowned, and Harry immediately took notice, but you waved it off as you slightly smiled, telling him that you two would talk later. He didn’t press any further, waiting until later or when you were ready. Instead, he asked if you wanted anything to drink, to which he already knew you’d go for a class of Cabernet, and luckily, he had some in stock—more like, he still had the untouched bottle for when you stayed over. 

The two of you leaned against the cold granite counter as music softly played on the speaker that was connected through Bluetooth on his phone. Conversations were light, but it wasn’t awkward in any sense. As a matter of fact, it felt just like old times when you would stay over his house, talking about each other’s day and simply enjoying the presence of one another. That’s what you think this was, you thought—enjoying the fact that Harry was in front of you after so many months and you were cherishing it until the next set of months went by. 

After a few conversations and sips of wine later, the time had gone by fairly fast, which always happened when you were with him, and it was nearing five. The kids had woken up from their nap at four and quietly settled in the living room—the twins on the couch in front of the television and Rory was on the padded mat playing with his toys, occasionally talking to his sisters. Harry asked if you would be okay watching them so he could make dinner, and you were close to reminding him that he didn’t need to ask to watch his kids, but then again, you had to remind yourself that things were a bit different now. So, you said that you didn’t mind and walked over to the sofa chair next to the couch and watched TV with the girls as well as play with Rory. 

Twenty-five minutes had gone by and Harry called everyone, announcing that dinner was ready. You all walked into the dining room, taking your seats. Your assigned seat was next to Rory’s chair, which was in between you and Harry; the girls were sitting across from you. Once everyone took several bites of Harry’s dinner--a quick fettuccine alfredo--the chatter was back. You enthusiastically listened to the girls and Rory talk; it made Harry smile, loving how natural everything felt. 

Estelle tapped Harry’s shoulder, making him turn towards her with a smile on his face. “What is it, sunshine?” She got off her chair, leaning over to whisper something into his ear and he smiled, turning back to his family who was curious as to what Estelle had said. “Go ahead and ask her, love.” 

You put down your fork and placed your arms on the table. “What’s up, Princess?” 

“Uh, c-can we go to that place?” 

“What place is that?” You asked curiously. 

“That place where you told Daddy you loved him,” she responded quite bashfully. Your mouth was slightly open, not expecting her to say what she did. Looking over at Harry, he simply had a soft smile on his face with his brows raised, shrugging his shoulders.

Did you want to go back there? The answer was a simple yes. There wasn’t any excuse that you could possibly make up on the spot as to why you couldn’t go there, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad place whenever you thought about it. In fact, you really missed going over there and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think about that place often. 

Your head turned towards Estelle. “Sure, why not. How about we go tomorrow?” You asked everyone, and they all had smiles on their faces. You looked at Harry, directly asking him for permission. “Is that okay?” His elbow was resting against the arm of the brown chair, fingers placed under his lips as he slightly puckered his soft and pink lips; without looking under the table, you knew his legs were crossed. Harry smiled, nodding his head, and everyone cheered. 

The rest of the time everyone was sitting at the dinner table, you all talked about plans for tomorrow, and everyone was really excited. Once it was almost eight, Harry realized that it was almost their bedtime, so he hurried them up the stairs to get ready for bed before saying goodnight to you, getting in as many hugs and kisses as they could get. 

Harry was upstairs, changing Rory and putting him to bed before he walked down and found you in the kitchen washing dishes. He slipped past you, placing his hand along your lower back briefly before he grabbed the dish rag. The action sent a chill down your spine and you immediately missed his hands on you. 

“The kids seem really excited about tomorrow.” Harry broke the silence, glancing over at you as you continued to wash the dishes. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really excited too.” 

Harry noticed the slight shortness, and he thought it may be because you were tired. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You turned off the water and faced him, crossing your arms as he did the same. 

“Do the kids hate me?” The corner of his lips turned up before he started laughing, clutching his stomach. If it were any other time, you would obsess over his laugh; it was music to your ears, the highlight of your day, and the sun when it’s bright out. You softly slapped his arm. “Harry! I’m being serious!” 

“Darling, you’re joking, right?” Your heart briefly fluttered at his nickname for you. “Those kids love you!” He noticed your change of attitude and that you’d been thinking about this for a while and beating yourself up over it. 

“It’s just…I don’t want them to think that we broke up and I forgot about them. I mean I understand if they see it that way because I left without saying another word for six months--didn’t even get to say goodbye to them and have a proper talk. I just don’t want them to hate me.” You looked down at your feet as you played with the thin silver band on your middle finger.  

Harry’s seen you in work mode, and it reeks confidence and power. You don’t need much reassurance during work unless it’s when your employees tell you that progress is moving along. But this was completely different; you needed all the reassurance that you could get to get it through your head that the kids that you’d come to love--from the moment you met them--don’t hate you. And Harry didn’t mind telling you over and over again. 

“They were just that we split up, that’s all. But they quickly understood why.” 

“What’d you tell them?” You asked curiously. 

“The truth--that sometimes it’s better to be apart for a while rather than drive ourselves crazy. Told them that when the time is right, then maybe we’ll get back together.” The look in his eyes was so comforting that you immediately fell into them. Harry was always the best with giving you that extra reassurance that you and his kids need. 

You felt the extra beat in your chest that pumped so harshly against your chest, but it was surrounded by butterflies, making it flutter throughout your body. As you looked so deeply into Harry’s beautiful green eyes, you realized one of two things; the first thing was that you never wanted to look so deeply into another person’s eyes unless it was Harry’s; and the second thing was that you were incredibly and overwhelmingly still in love with this man and his three children, and there hadn’t been a day that gone by where you weren’t. 

Taking a deep breath, itches were crawling up your skin, begging you to say something. “D-Do you think it’s time?” Your voice asked shyly. 

Harry was taken back by your question as he raised his brows. He couldn’t deny the nerves that he felt whenever he was around you, but your question seemed to have increased his nervousness. 

“We’ve been separated for what feels like a long time now.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he recouped his thoughts to say the right words. “I think-”

“Daddy?” Yours and Harry’s head whipped towards the staircase, finding Estelle at the bottom of it with groggy eyes. 

Harry walked towards his sunshine. “What is it, my love?” He kneeled down onto the bottom step, matching her height. Estelle told him that she couldn’t sleep, and that she’s been tossing and turning for a while, so Harry told her that he would lay with her until she fell asleep and carried her to her bedroom. He looked back at you as he was walking up the steps, and you gave him a soft smile, letting him know that it was completely okay. 

You finished tidying up the kitchen, wiping down the counters and cleaning the dining table until you realized that you needed to get ready for tomorrow’s adventure. 

Once Harry came down the stairs, he found you sitting on the edge of the armchair with your purse on your shoulder; you looked up as he walked up to you. 

“I’m gonna head out.” 

Harry’s slightly frowned. “Oh, you can stay the night if you want to.” 

“No, it’s okay, thanks.” You really did want to stay the night, but you didn’t have a change of clothes for tomorrow. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He nodded, walking you to the door, opening it for you. 

You stepped out on his doorstep, turning around as you wrapped your arm around his waist, tiptoeing to plant a kiss to his cheek. The slightest bit of touch from your lips sent Harry’s skin on fire, warming up to the affection. The touch was sent away too quickly as you let go of him completely, giving him one last smile before walking to your car and waving at him as you drove away. 

Harry closed the door, the palm of his hand cupped the cheek that you kissed and he sighed as if he was shot with Cupid’s love-arrow, and he wouldn’t mind it if it meant he would feel your affection every single day. 

You arrived at the Styles household at ten in the morning with a tote-full of snacks and water, knowing the kids would get hungry from all the walking. You got there forty-five minutes earlier than planned, knowing that the Styles family wouldn’t be out the door right on time because Harry has three kids, two of them who bicker and complain from time to time—especially when they’re sleepy—and a two-year-old who was starting to run away from everything. So, you figured Harry would appreciate your help. 

When Harry saw you standing on his doorstep, he let out a sigh of relief. He was still in his striped pajamas pants and a white t-shirt, holding a small pair of olive green pants. You walked in and saw Rory running around half naked, despite it being early in the morning. You told Harry that he could shower and get ready for the day, and to leave it to you because you’ll handle it—plus, you both knew that the kids often listened to you more than their own dad. He smiled appreciatively, kissing your head briefly before walking up the stairs and getting ready. 

Once Rory saw you, he stopped running around the house and instead, ran towards you and into your arms. You carried him up the stairs and to his room to get some clothes on him, and luckily, Harry was able to bathe him before you showed up. You gave him his favorite toy to fumble with before you walked into Mira's room, setting Rory on her twin bed before helping her get ready. You left Rory in Mira’s room and went to Estelle’s bedroom, doing the same. 

By the time Harry walked downstairs, you and the three kids were sitting on the couch, eating a banana. He smiled, slowing his steps as he was amazed at the quietness and stillness in the house, but then again, he wasn’t that amazed because he knew you’d come in and get things in order. 

Harry’s home was a two minute walk to the train station, and everyone decided to take the train since it was what you and Harry did when you two were dating, and the kids really wanted to walk through the entire path of their father’s love story. 

Luckily, there weren’t that many people on the train—it was practically empty—so they didn’t have to rush to get a spot for the kids. Rory sat in the middle of his sisters as they all smiled brightly towards Harry’s phone that was capturing the adorable children for a sweet memory sake. You and Harry were standing, making sure neither of the kids fell over if the train made a halting stop. You held onto the metal bar above you, Harry held the bar that was mounted into the floor, and you both watched the kids interact with one another—counting on their fingers, booping one another’s noses, and laughing; it was every parent’s dream. 

Without noticing, Harry moved closer to you, placing his hand directly next to yours; the side of your hand touched his, and you looked at him with wide eyes while your heart fluttered. You were hip to hip, and you saw the smirk he had on his face while occasionally glancing over at you. You couldn’t help the heat that rose onto your cheeks because it felt like old times when you two used to ride the train together and it would get too packed to where you had to stand up; he would always face you as your hands touched—sometimes he would even intertwine your fingers together while you two held the bar as you were one—and he would hover over you, giving you plentiful kisses like the true romantic that he was. 

The train ride took about 30 minutes and it was a two minute walk to the place that gave you so many happy memories and nostalgia—International Rose Test Garden was where the memories of you and Harry were stored. 

You had the girls on either side of you, holding their hands; and Harry carried Rory since he was likely to run around and Harry didn’t want to risk his safety. 

The sun was bright—beautiful for a day in the garden as the roses and flowers bloomed ever so widely. All of you walked the rows and rows of flowers, occasionally taking pictures in front of the rose bushes.

Remembering all the times you and Harry were hand in hand, laughing until your stomachs were sore, like you did an intense ab workout, and there were tears resting in the outer corner of your eyes. All the memories that were swirling around in your head made you come to the conclusion to one thing: you never want to be without Harry and his kids ever again. 

You don’t know how it took you so long to realize this, maybe it was seeing them for the first time in six months that you realized that you had it great—a small family that accepted you and loved you for who you were, and you loved them just the same. 

Harry walked beside you, the kids skipping and playing around in the grass in front of you two. Confidently, you slipped your hand into Harry’s ringed hand, immediately intertwining your fingers together as if your hand knew what it was missing. Harry briefly looked down before looking at you. He smiled, and turned his head back towards the kids, not making a big deal of it as his warm hand accepted the coldness of yours. 

You gently tugged against his arm, pulling him back as he came face to face with you; a quiet gasp came out of his mouth when doing so. You looked up at him with bright eyes, and Harry was taken back to a year and a half ago where you, coincidentally, were in this same spot on the very green patch of grass. 

“Harry…” you breathed out, looking down at your feet nervously. He made the bold move to step closer to you, chests almost touching. Harry lifted your chin up with his fingers, locking eyes with you so intently that you practically lost your breath. 

“What is it?” He whispered. 

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I-I realized something.” 

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

Glancing over at the kids, they were giving you big smiles and thumbs up for reassurance, and your heart swooned at their support and love they provided you to finally get back together with their father, even if you weren’t their biological mother. 

You looked back at Harry, who was waiting patiently. “I love you. I still do and never stopped.” Harry felt like he stopped breathing at that moment. “You make me so happy—you and the kids, and I don’t want to be without you all anymore. I-I don’t like how it’s only taken me this much time to tell you this, but it felt like the perfect time since this was the place where I first told you I loved you.” 

Harry smiled, taking your hands into his. His thumbs smoothed your skin on the back of your hand before he brought them up to his lips and kissed them so delicately. The action made you smile softly before your mind had switched it to thinking that it was affection before the rejection. 

But then he opened his mouth to speak such beautiful words that you had been aching to hear during the breakup. 

“You’re my everything. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you because you. You’re part of my source of happiness, and life didn’t feel the same without you—the kids could agree with me on that.” He chuckled, looking at them to find them holding hands and jumping around in circles. “But I know that we separated for the better only for us to come back stronger than ever, and I’m never gonna let go of you again, okay?” 

Tears pricked your eyes before they streamed down your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was pounding harder than ever, but it was filled with so much love from and for this man in front of you. 

Harry wiped away your tears, leaning in to kiss your forehead, down to your eyelids as he kissed your tears away. He pulled away and you opened your eyes, giving each other a relieved and happy smile. 

“I love you,” he said, and he swore he saw the brightest smile he’s ever seen—brighter than the sun. “Always have and always will.” 

“And I love you. C-Can you kiss me, please?” 

Harry grinned. “It would be an honor.” 

Placing his palms on the side of your face, he leaned his forehead against yours. Your hands were wrapped around his wrists, rubbing his skin softly. With a smile, he kissed you with such softness and passion that the flowers bloomed largely and the sun shined ever so brightly. The kids cheered and clapped, making bystanders think that you’d just gotten engaged, but you both knew that would be the next step. Your stomach was in knots, butterflies surrounding your body as he captured your lips with his. Hugging Harry’s waist, you pulled him closer and wrapped your arms around him, and he kissed you harder, effortlessly moving his lips in sync with yours as if he was a pro on kissing you, which he was. 

Harry pulled away first, giving you several pecks before opening his eyes. “God, I missed doing that. Missed you so much, darling.” 

“I missed you too, baby.” You were high on happiness, high on love. “I’m sorry it took us this long.” A slight frown appeared on your face, but Harry kissed it away. 

“Hey, hey. None of that. I would’ve loved you until the end of time. I don’t care how long it took, you’re my forever,” he vowed, not planning to break that promise. 

Missing his lips on yours, you leaned up to kiss him again while your arms were wrapped around his neck and his were around your waist, holding you tightly as if he was afraid you’d run off. 

Suddenly, you started giggling into the kiss, making Harry smile before he pulled away. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked. You started thinking about the conversation from the park when you asked him if he was seeing someone. 

You curled in your lips before you said, “You’re a literal dilf, and I’m so in love with you.” 

please tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, favorite moments and scenes! thank you for reading <3

[mercy-burning]

Say You’re Sorry

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After a petty argument, Reader and Spencer spend weeks trying to get each other to say they’re sorry first Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: Language, smut (fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, light choking) Word Count: 4.3k

Full Request: “...a smut about Like reader and spencer fight for something stupid, because both of them think are right, And maybe the fbi it has the annual gala of something and reader wears a *SUIT* with just a nice bra under the jacket, and spencer lost his mind.” —Anonymous

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one was so much fun to write! All of these requests have been, of course, but I just loved getting to write Spencer and Reader’s petty tactics and dialogue here 😂❤

***

It was stupid and they both knew it. Everyone in the office knew it, too.

But when two people who were always priding themselves on being right have been dating for years, stupid little arguments like that were bound to happen.

This time, though, Spencer and Y/N seemed to have taken it a little too far. For weeks now they haven't spoken unless it was bickering, and when it wasn't bickering, it was demanding the other person to admit they were sorry.

And now it was just a game.

The first round started when Y/N gave Spencer a cup of coffee as a gesture, a sign of good faith. She hadn't explicitly said sorry, though Spencer was willing to accept it as an apology anyway. The round ended, though, when he took a drink to find it completely bitter, not a grain of sugar to be found. She laughed, the sound somehow even more bitter than the coffee she'd given him, and left him with a prompt, "Gotcha."

Round two was a bit more evil, Spencer retaliating by changing all the settings in her car so that when she got in, everything would be the exact opposite of how she preferred it. She was always particular about how she had the air, the seats, the mirrors, and everything else set up in her car, and the day she got in it after work almost had her in tears of anger. First of all, her seat was set all the way back, which she found strange, but then after adjusting it she turned the car on, and the radio blasted intense techno music, which she always found annoying. She turned it all the way down after almost having a heart attack, suddenly very angry and confused, only to then notice that all the mirrors were adjusted as well.

But the tip of the iceberg was when she looked at the speedometer and noticed she was almost entirely out of gas. It certainly wouldn't be enough to get her home.

"What the actual fuck?" she yelled, only to jump again when Spencer knocked on her window.

"Looks like you're gonna have to take the train home with me."

It really was her only option, and she hated it. And he was so hopeful that it would get to her admit that she was sorry, that when they got to his apartment he would be able to convince her to come to bed with him and sleep it all off.

Turns out, he was sorely mistaken. She didn't talk to him the whole way there, and when they did manage to make it up to his apartment, Y/N locked him out of his bedroom and slept in his bed alone. No matter how many times he tried to convince her to let him in, she yelled back, "Say you're sorry, and we'll see if you deserve to sleep with me!"

But he wasn't going to give up that easily. So he gave up trying to reason with her, and stayed on the couch.

When he woke up, he was drenched in freezing cold water, cursing as Y/N stood over him with a smirk. "Mess with my car again, and it'll be something worse, Reid."

She never used his last name. She was doing it to taunt him, and it only made him angrier.

She left that morning, calling Emily for a ride and hoping she'd taught Spencer a lesson.

Unfortunately, no lessons had been learned. A few days later, he 'accidentally' bumped into her, spilling coffee all over her white blouse, and said 'oops,' in the least apologetic way ever.

Y/N scowled as she dabbed up the liquid, not even paying attention to him as she ranted about how pissed off she was and how childish her boyfriend was being.

"If you'd just man up and say you're sorry already, maybe I won't have to be such a bitch, but you're really getting on my fucking nerves..."

He was suspiciously quiet. So she looked up to catch him staring at her, a look in his eyes that she'd seen many a time. In fact, it had to be one of her favorite looks.

He was staring directly at her chest, where she'd unbuttoned a few buttons to get at more of the coffee that splashed on her shirt.

It was only a few seconds, and Spencer seemed to snap out of it rather quickly, giving her a wink before walking away completely.

She glared at him as he disappeared into another room, but in the back of her mind, a plan was already forming.

***

The Bureau was hosting a mandatory gala for a few agents who were retiring, and with the event coming up, Y/N knew it was the perfect opportunity to get Spencer's attention and maybe, just maybe, get him to finally apologize.

But that was all unbeknownst to him.

He knew she was going to show up on her own, because neither of them had stepped up to the plate to apologize, and truth be told, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. It had been about a week since he'd spilled his coffee all over her, and he couldn't stop thinking about her. Not that he never thought about her at all—she was his girlfriend, of course he thought about her—but after going weeks without getting to kiss her, touch her, or even just be around her when they weren't playing stupid, petty games with each other, Spencer was starting to think maybe they should just talk it out.

So that's what he decided. The gala would be a perfect opportunity to make a grand romantic gesture and admit that he missed her, that they were both being childish and he wanted to work it out.

All of that completely went out the window, though, the second she walked through the door.

The drink in his hand almost dropped to the floor. The only thing that even kept him standing upright was Derek's hold on him when he stumbled. And as if he didn't already know he was in trouble, Spencer heard his friend whistle lowly beside him.

"Kid, I think you better apologize, or I have a feeling you're gonna regret it..."

"No kidding," was all he responded with, his eyes still glued to his girlfriend from across the room.

She was wearing a pair of maroon suit pants and a matching jacket that held together at the middle by one button, exposing a lacy black bra underneath. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant updo, exposing more of her neck and chest as small pieces of hair framed the sides of her face. From far away he noticed her wearing some long silver earrings and a matching necklace that landed right above where curve of her breasts met her neck. She walked—no, glided—across the floor with heels that accented her every step with power.

She caught his eye, and though she was the most stunning, captivating woman he'd ever seen, the pure smugness that lit up her pretty features as she walked towards him made Spencer want to win. No romantic gestures, no giving in and talking it out... He wanted to see her beg for forgiveness.

It was a pretty hard task, though, considering the second she got closer and he searched her eyes, he almost crumbled beneath the sheer power they exuded. They gleamed at him as if to say, "You lose."

Everything was made even worse when she smiled at him like nothing was wrong, like they hadn't been playing childish pranks on each other all week. She leaned in and held onto his arms, giving him a sweet kiss on the jawline.

"Hi, babe," she chirped happily, and before she pulled away, she added into his ear with a whisper, "By the end of the night you're gonna be real sorry for last week..." It was low and seductive and pure evil. Spencer would have stumbled again had she not been holding onto his arm.

He wanted to think that Y/N surely wouldn't resort to using her seduction to get him to apologize, but that would be a flat-out lie. She knew exactly what she was doing.

But it wasn't going to work. He wouldn't let it. He couldn't let it.

He cleared his throat and led Y/N to the table they were staying at, trying his hardest to ignore the low burn that settled in his stomach.

But once again, that proved incredibly hard when she was sitting next to him all night, talking confidently with other agents and occasionally slipping her hand along his inner thigh to tease him. When no one was looking, she'd move it higher, lightly drawing circles along the inseam of his pants. And when he gripped her wrist under the table, leaning in to say lowly in her ear, "You better quit," she responded with a turn of the head and a kiss on the cheek, whispering right back, "Not until you say you're sorry."

She pulled back and they smiled at each other sweetly, right before she excused herself to go to the bathroom.

What she wasn't counting on was him following after her, catching her arm and pulling her into an empty storage closet before anyone could see. It all caught her completely by surprise, but even as the light switched on and she saw Spencer standing in front of her, a look of pure frustrated grief flashing across his features, she settled into another smug smile.

"Aw, what's wrong, babe?"

His eyes raked her up and down, and it was obvious how hungry he was for her. His hands reached out tentatively to touch her, and she let him. They settled on slipping under her suit jacket and practically burning handprints into the bare skin of her stomach.

"What's wrong?" he repeated, running his hands farther up her stomach and just below the bra. He could see his fingers peeking up through the jacket, and it made him absolutely feral. "You're a fucking tease, that's what's wrong."

Y/N cooed like she would at a crying baby. "Aw, and who's fault is that, hmm?"

"I'm not gonna say it." His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and still she was unwavering.

"I'm not gonna say it either."

"Well... Maybe I'll just have to fuck it out of you, then."

She would have been lying if she said she hadn't lost a little self control upon hearing those words come from his mouth. Which is why she challenged him yet again, silently hoping that he'd make true on his promise.

"I'd like to see you try..."

They stared at each other then, and for a moment Y/N thought he would actually do it. Her body shivered with excitement, especially when he pushed her into the door and ran his hands up to cup her breasts. He leaned in close and pressed gentle kisses to the side of her neck and down her collarbone, and eventually, he found his way back to her neck.

Right when his hands moved to her back to unclasp her bra, he suddenly removed them altogether, and placed them on either side of her head, trapping her between his body and the door.

And with five simple words hummed lowly into her ear, he'd managed to win this round.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Spencer opened the door and pushed past her, leaving her behind to catch her breath.

***

The night was nearly over, and she still hadn't managed to break him. And after the stunt he pulled in the storage closet, she was getting just as frustrated as he was. Since then, he'd practically dangled himself in front of her all night, making a point to play with his hands (which he knew she went crazy for), doing the same with his mouth (which she also had praised multiple times over), and occasionally resting his hand on her lower back, or on the inside of her thigh under the table.

And now, he had her cornered near the back of the room after she'd excused herself to collect her bearings.

But she wasn't having it.

Before he could say or do anything, she grabbed him by the tie and pulled him to her, sneering in his face. "Back off, baby, or I swear to God..."

She wasn't really sure what she was going to say, because no words could properly accentuate her frustration. All she could do was give vague threats and hope Spencer stepped up to the plate.

Unfortunately for her, he didn't.

"What? What are you gonna do?" he laughed, looking at her hungrily.

At this point they were just needlessly teasing themselves, and they both knew it. But the game had gone on for so long that one of them had to break eventually, right?

She couldn't answer him... There was absolutely nothing in her brain except for images of them, screwing each other to the ends of the earth. So, she looked back at him, silently hoping that he would just forget about the apologies and do something about the tension that had been building up for weeks now.

And truthfully, she thought he would have. He looked like he was ready to say fuck it and kiss her right there. He leaned in, and she gripped his tie even tighter.

But then someone cleared their throat beside them.

"Alright, you two." It was Rossi. "Get out of here, go kiss and make up. That's an order."

"But you're not our boss," Y/N pointed out, apparently still on the high of arguing.

"Tonight I am. Go on, get."

She turned away from them and left without another word.

***

One silent car ride later, the two of them walked up to Y/N's apartment. It wasn't until Spencer had closed the door behind him that either of them said something.

In fact, they both said something at the same time.

"Take your clothes off."

"Leave the suit on."

And then, silence.

For one second. Then two. Then three.

And then the only sound to be heard was Y/N's heels as she glided to Spencer in three large steps and crushed her mouth to his. The second it happened, it was like a rubber band snapped, all this pent up tension finally releasing and shooting across the air until it landed somewhere.

In this case, it landed on the kitchen table. She pushed off his jacket the second her butt landed on the cool wooden surface, and her mouth pulled away from his with a harsh smack. "I thought I told you to take off your clothes."

"So fucking impatient," he breathed, grabbing her face with his hands and kissing her again.

A second later, she pulled back and gripped his tie. "Then don't take so fucking long," she said lowly, and then pulled him forward by the tie, connecting their mouths once more.

He grunted in her mouth, releasing her face and working at the buttons of his shirt while she tried her hardest to get the tie. The second everything was loosened, she slid her hands under his shirt and pulled his body into hers by the waist, digging her nails into his skin.

"Lift your hips, baby," he breathed against her mouth, his hands already at the button. "Let me get these off."

"I thought you wanted me to keep the suit on?" she laughed.

"Well, I can't fuck you with your pants on, Y/N."

She lifted her hips then, using her hands on the table as leverage while he shimmied them off over her heels. "I know, genius, I was just fucking with you."

"Well, stop it," he got out with an exasperated sigh.

And before she could retort, his fingers were pushing her panties aside and slipping through the opening of her pussy, causing her words to get caught in her throat.

She choked on a moan and he laughed. "Yeah, I thought that'd shut you up."

"Fuck you," she gasped.

"I'd rather fuck you instead."

And with that final sentence, he started finger-fucking her, leaning forward and applying kisses and bites to her neck. Her hands reached out to grip his shoulders, pushing the rest of his shirt off and then clinging to him like a cat clinging to a tree.

"Who knew all this fighting would make you so wet for me," he said, punctuating his words with a nip to her neck. As if to prove his point, he worked his fingers in and out of her quicker and deeper, the both of them taking in and relishing the sounds it made. Meanwhile she rocked her hips against his hand and tried her hardest not to make much sound, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much he was affecting her.

Though, it seemed he caught on to her scheme.

"What's the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue? I know you wanna let it out, so why don't you?"

"Not... until you say you're sorry," she managed to respond clearly, leaning back to look him in the eye.

The look he gave her radiated cockiness as his fingers worked even faster, and she squeezed her eyes shut to hold back any noises.

"Aw, not even one little moan for me, pretty girl? I know you've got one in you..."

"N—no," she pressed, obviously trying not to react at all. But it was getting harder when every second Spencer was curling his fingers inside her now, hitting that sweet spot and bringing her closer to the edge.

"Yes," he reiterated, bringing his other hand to her mouth and pushing her lips apart to press his thumb down onto her tongue, keeping her jaw open and forcing out all the sounds she'd tried so hard to hold in.

There was no getting out of it, but... right now she didn't care. Because she loved when he took control like this, seeing his face scrunch up with determination to get what he wanted, the raw, primal look in his eye that boiled her insides and broke her down every time...

Inevitably, she moaned out. Loudly. And when she was met with a smug, "Atta girl," she closed her mouth around his thumb and sucked on it, humming as her pussy clenched around his fingers. "That's a good fucking girl..."

As he worked her through her orgasm, the high subsiding, she thought, Alright... You win this round...

And then, as he pulled away from her and brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them off, Y/N slowly grew a smirk.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow.

She took out her earrings, jumped off the table, and unbuttoned the suit jacket, letting it hang open as she dragged him with her to the bedroom in nothing but her bra, panties, jacket, and heels. "I'm gonna get you for that."

His heart raced as she all but threw him in the direction of the bed. He sat down and leaned back, breathless as she kicked the door shut with her foot and settled her hands on her bare hips. From the low angle he had, she very much radiated dominance and power, and God, if she wasn't the most stunning specimen he'd ever laid his eyes on...

He wanted in that moment so badly to submit to her, to give her everything she wanted, but... If he didn't, what would she do?

She took a few slow steps, and with every one Spencer sunk back, until he was laying down and she was standing at the edge of the bed, using her knee to push his legs apart.

"Sit up," she demanded softly, and he almost obliged. But he wanted to see what she'd do if he refused. So when he remained on his back, she stretched her arm out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him up and then gripping his chin in her other hand to make him look up at her.

In the dim light of the bedroom, he studied her, every curve and peak of her face and the way the shadows accented her prettiest features, the faint glimmer of the eyeshadow she was wearing, the way her tongue danced behind her lips as she figured out what to say next...

Likewise, she took him in completely, the way his eyes softened with each passing second as they roamed her face, and how his just settled in her hand, like he was completely submitting to and amazed by her. And truth be told, the feeling was mutual. Just looking into his eyes alone, Y/N could tell how much he loved her, and it made her heart swell.

Consequently, the electric buzz that had been between them all night and growing stronger for weeks was a dull hum, something more warm and... remorseful.

"I love you," Y/N breathed, loosening the grip on Spencer's chin. She let her fingers slide down his neck and over to his shoulder, where she gave him a light, loving squeeze. "And I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered back, bringing one of his hands up to cup her cheek. "And I love you."

She sat down on one of his legs, bringing them closer together and to eye-level. And with a smile, she said, "Truce?"

"Truce."

"Good. Now, fuck me?"

"Always."

Her body melted into his when he pulled her face to him and kissed her. His lips moved slowly against hers, yet with a burning passion and need that made it hard for her to breathe. It wasn't long before she starting rocking against him, butterflies swarming in her stomach when he noticed and used one of his hands to run up her thigh. Meanwhile their kisses grew stronger, deeper, and the little sighs and moans they produced together provided the cherry on top.

Y/N slid off of him, then reached down to take his pants off, head spinning and heart soaring. And Spencer felt the same, tugging at the hem of her panties.

She laughed, breaking away once his pants were off. "How do you want me, baby?"

"Just like this," he responded, not needing any time to think about it. "Ride me, do whatever you want to me. I just want you."

With another little laugh, she pushed him back lightly and took off her underweat and heels, then climbed over him to straddle his hips. "Careful what you wish for."

When she reached back her arms to remove the jacket, Spencer stopped her, gripping her thighs and saying in a low voice, "Don't you dare take that off."

She sounded satisfied. Triumphant. "I knew you'd like it."

And before he had a chance to elaborate on just how much he liked it, she shifted her hips and ground down on his bare, hard dick. All words escaped him at the feeling, and she seemed to know it, because she smiled down at him victoriously.

She leaned down and braced her hands on his chest as she continued to rock back and forth, slicking him up with her arousal. Soon after, she snuck one of her hands down to help herself onto him, and she sank down slowly, ever so slowly...

Spencer sighed out, long and drawn out, and the sound was like music to Y/N's ears. She started off slowly, but it wasn't long before she sat up and set a steady pace riding him. And once he found his bearings, getting used to the feeling of her around him after almost a whole month of missing it completely, his eyes opened and took her in once more, the sight before him almost shattering him to pieces.

As his hands flew out to grip her waist, Y/N sighed, reaching down and placing her hands on his stomach. "Fuck, I missed this, baby... Missed you..." Then she slid forward and settled her hands at his collarbone, slowing her hips and making sure to speak just as slowly. "Missed the feeling of your cock deep inside me..."

He lost it then. His grip tightened on her waist and he shifted his hips, repeatedly thrusting up into her with a force that elicited a deep moan from Y/N's throat. She gasped out as he continued this pace, the tension inside of her starting to stretch thin.

"Fuck, baby, please! Oh, right there!" she couldn't help but yell out. She sat up just a little so he had a better angle, and her hands gently wrapped around his throat, to which he rolled his eyes back and groaned out a soft, "Fuck, yes."

They were moving together now, meeting each others' hips with an urgency that could only be present through weeks of built up tension and depravation. It was like a thunderstorm, intense and filled to the brim with flashes of lightning that danced behind both of their eyes as they reached the pinnacle.

Their bodies slowed down naturally, and Y/N's hands were now combing through his hair as she slumped down over him and felt his release as it started to drip down her thigh, and Spencer basked in the feeling of her envelopment, her body weight over the top of him like a warm blanket. They both felt little aftershocks of pleasure as they slowed their breathing and just laid there, hands gently rubbing each others' skin and mouths exhaling soft whispers of 'I love you,' and 'I missed you.'

And then they fully came to their senses, the storm having rolled through completely and leaving them in a calm breeze. It was peaceful. Rehabilitating.

Y/N kissed Spencer's neck and lifted her head to look him in the eyes. "Babe, you know I love you, but I'm not sleeping in this thing tonight."

He laughed, tucking some of the hair behind her ear that had fallen from the updo and then running his thumb along her bottom lip. "That's fair. You should... wear suits more often, though. They're a good look for you."

She smiled and kissed him softly. "Duly noted."

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[bakugotsundere]

Hating Him - Bakugo Katsuki (3)

Bakugo x (black) fem reader

( still can read if you’re not)

sorry if it bothers you, i just felt that my black readers weren’t feeling black as they were reading y/n stories cause i for sure wasn’t

Warning: Smut, Rough sex, hair pulling, name calling, Nsfw 18+

It had been weeks since you talked to Bakugo. You had been avoiding him ever since that night at Minas house. Practice was quiet, no arguing between you two. There was a time a couple of days ago you argued, only because of him of course. He had to lead the team during practice once and was just being very obnoxious and he tried it with you and you snapped on him, so then it started a argument. Some hurtful things were said, you told him that Shindo had looked better than him and you knew this made his blood boil but he had already called you desperate so you could careless.

“Are you alright?” You heard shindo ask, pulling you out of your thoughts. You placed your feet in his lap, “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” You said softly. Shindo was a transfer student. Mina had introduced him to the group right before you and bakugo had got into that argument. Shindo was very handsome and was a pretty chill person so you and him got along well. Bakugo hated Shindo for some unknown reason so he never came around anymore, he barely came around before so it didn’t matter. Shindos hands messaged your legs as you watched Denki try to act as something. You were playing a game of charades and you had to guess what denki was trying to be.

Everyone was here except for bakugo and Kirishima. “Hey guys.” You heard a familiar voice say. Speaking of the fucking devil. You turned around to be greeted with a happy kirishima and a angry bakugo. He just had to bring him. Bakugos eyes met yours and he clenched his jaw once he saw your legs on Shindo. You didn’t say a word to each other. Bakugo had on a white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. You gave kirishima a small smile before turning back around in your seat. The tension between you and Bakugo had to be noticeable. Bakugo sat down on the other couch with Kirishima as they greeted everyone. Bakugo greeted everyone except you and Shindo.

The game of charades continued and you and Shindo were having your own conversation, “Where’d you get those rings from?” He asked and you could feel Bakugos eyes on you. You began to get nervous because the truth would cause a lot. Telling him that Bakugo gave them to you because he couldn’t finger you with them on didn’t sound like a plan. Kirishima noticed that these were Bakugos too, “Hey Bakugo aren’t those-

Bakugo hit Kirishima in his shoulder and once he caught on kirishima gave you a confused smile. Fuck kirishima. “I got them from a friend.” You said and he grabbed your hand, looking at it, “May I ask who this friend is?” He asked and you gave him a small smile nodding your head, “Her name is...Alena, before I left for college she gave me them to keep.” You lied and he nodded his head before you went on to talk about something else. That was close but it’s not like you and Shindo are together but saying you got them from Bakugo would stir up a lot of things. From then on Bakugo kept his eyes on you. You were the only thing he was focusing on until everyone started to leave until you were the only one left in the lounge area.

You stared at your hand with bakugos rings on it, remembering everything from that night. You figured that The rings were causing too much trouble and decided that you had to go give them back to Bakugo. Bakugo lived behind the university in like a loft looking home. You only knew this because there was once a part at his house that you ended up not going to. You walked off out of the university, heading straight to his place.

...

Once you made it to his loft, you knocked on the door a few times before he finally opened it. He was wearing a pair of grey nike shirts and a pair of white socks. His shirt was off, showing his toned body. He also had the on the wrist bands that you’re guessing his mother gave him from all of those community help outs she worked at. He looked good but you knew you couldn’t say that. He looked down at you, “What do you want?” He asked and you removed his rings from off of your small finger and handed them to him, “Here are your rings.” You told him and he sighed taking them in his hand, “Is that all?” He asked and you nodded your head. “Do you wanna come in?” He asked and you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, Depends on if it’s considered desperate or not.” You told him and he sighed, “Look-

You walked past him, going inside his loft. You looked around, all his furniture was grey and black, some wooden, which fit him. Everything was neat. Nothing out of place. The stairs to his room was to the right while his living room was on the left and there was also a really black tall bookshelf in the corner. And all the way in the back was his kitchen. The wall on the right was brick. It was really cold inside his house but you liked it. You took off your jacket leaving you only in a white see-through tank top and a pair of grey biker shorts that were a bit too short and he watched you. He could feel him self start to get hard down there and he had wished he didn’t like the sight of you in your natural state. All you had to do was touch him and he’d be in for it.

You turned around to face him, “So why did you invite me in? I thought I was the reason for all your problems?” You slyly said craving his reaction. “Why’d you accept the offer? Shindo’s much more attractive than me right?” He asked, “Mhmm. You called me desperate in front of the whole track team. Now if I told them how much you liked the taste of me I’d be wrong.” You told him and he walked towards you.

His large body towered over yours. “Should’ve done it while you could, I’m not taking back anything I said. You are desperate. You know like I know that I’m the only one who has ever made you feel that good.” He told you and you looked up at him, “And I’m not taking back anything I said either. Your ego is too big for you to be losing to a girl like me. And as much as you hate to admit it, you are also desperate for me. I can tell by the way you’re getting harder by the second. I’m attractive even when we’re arguing?” You asked him and this hit a nerve. You wanted it to. His large hands found there way to your hair and he pulled your freshly straightened hair. He sat down on the couch and pulled your body onto him, making you straddle him. Somehow he still felt taller even while you were sitting on him.

“You’re mouth is so fucking smart, you know that?” He asked and you smiled, “Only with you. Shindo has never made me as angry as you do.” You told him and he pulled you in, kissing you on your lips. His kisses were rough and you liked it. His teeth pulled at your bottom lip before they sunk into your neck. He yanked your hair, leaving your neck open. A soft moan left your lips as bakugos mouth played at your neck, “D-Dont leave a Mark.” You breathed out and he shook his head no, “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with you, you’re mine .” He told you and your hands found there way to his blonde hair. His nibbles slowly turned into gentle kisses, just to let you know he had already placed many hickeys on your neck and his hands dragged over your curves as he bring his lips back to yours.

Your hips grind against his cock as your wet pussy soaked through your shorts, staining his grey ones. You gasp as he hands find there way to your ass, gripping it roughly. Kneading it almost. Your moans went straight into his mouth as he kissed your lips. You cupped his warm cheeks with your hands as he used his hands to guide you along his throbbing cock. The heat from both your bodies didn’t match to to the coldness in his loft. His body was like a drug to yours, you couldn’t help but want more. “You’re making a fucking mess.” He growled lowly and you looked at him, “S-Sorry. I can’t control it.” You told him softly between kisses, “You’re such a fucking slut.” He said as you buried your head into his warm neck. There was no doubt that you had already was lost on him.

You gently kissed his neck, making his jaw clenched, you found yourself wanting to Mark him too. You nibble at his neck and short grunts left his lips. You placed them everywhere, you knew Bakugo wasn’t even gonna try to cover it up. He was gonna have everyone guessing whose lips had planted them. “I-I need it. ” You whispered softly in his ear, “Don’t know what it is. Be specific sweetheart.” He told you through gritted teeth as his throbbing cock pressed directly against your pussy. “C-Can you please fuck me daddy?” You asked him. Your words went straight to his dick making his urge to have himself deep inside you more incompetent.

He shifted underneath you, pulling his shorts off revealing his cock. It was bigger than you had thought. It was very thick and long. It leaked with Precum and the tip was swollen. Veins were everywhere and all of that you wanted it was gone. You didn’t know if you could take it. You wrapped your hand around it, bringing your thumb to the tip. You looked at him, “B-Bakugo I don’t think we should be doing this.” You managed to say and his hands found there way to your shorts, starting to pull them off.

His tip pressed at your entrance waiting to feel your walls. “Why not?” He asked lowly and you looked down at his dick, “This is bad sportsmanship.” You told him, trying to focus on your words but his dick had been way too distracting at the moment, “And arguing all day isn’t? Stop acting innocent, I know how much of a slut you really fucking are.” He said before he pushed you down all the way on him, making your thighs clench and your hands grip his large shoulders. He gripped your waist, moving you up and down, giving you no time to adjust. Your eyes flutter as you push out insufficient moans from your lips. His cock was getting larger and larger inside your gushy flesh making you whimper each thrust. You found yourself savoring this feeling.

He watched in satisfaction as your body bounced up and down on him. The view of your brown frame doing so made him want to fuck you harder. “So god damn tight and wet for me.” He muttered. The sound of your ass clapping down into him was the only thing that could be heard. Your moans were barely audible and every groan that came from him made your Pussy wetter and wetter. As you started to move faster, you could tell you were about to meet your climax. His cock was hitting more than just your cervix. You were about to cum. You were reaching your ending point. You found yourself collapsing on him and letting out a series of moans and falling into his chest.

“Good girl. I wanna see you cum for me again.”

He moved your hands behind your back and started to fuck the shit out of you. His cock grazed against your walls as he did so, your cries were ignored by him. He was going faster than before, way faster. You couldn’t move at all, Bakugo had done more than just take control, “I-I can’t.” You cried to him and he ignored you, “You can’t what?” He asked as he continued to fuck you. “I can’t t-take it Bakugo.” You moaned into his neck. “I don’t give a shit. Should’ve thought about that before you came here.” He growled and tears brimmed at your eyes. This had felt so good, he was rough, so rough and you enjoyed it. Enjoyed every single part of it. He really was perfect for you.

Your moans turned into whimpers as you let out loud begs. His constant ramming at your sweet spot turned into a feeling of euphoria. Your walls started to suck him in, squeezing around his veins as another wave of cum was about to rush over you. “Shit. Your squeezing me so tight. God dammit.” He said between gritted teeth. You could feel him about to come so you fee into it, “Cum inside me please.” Your words straight to his cock and he let put a series of curse words followed by his cum pouring inside of you. You took his dick from out of you, letting his cum pour out of you and onto your fingers. You put them in your mouth, licking up every last drop of it. You then fell into his chest, feeling tired already, “My legs hurt.” You told him.

“We’re not done yet.”

His hands gripped underneath your ass, lifting you up. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you buried your head into his neck, knowing that you probably weren’t going to be able to walk after this. He brung you upstairs to his room, placing you on his bed. He turned you on your stomach, and you arched your back for him, Knowing what was already about to happen.

He placed his hands at your waist and pressed the tip at your entrance. He teased you a little before shoving himself all the way in. You could never get used to this feeling. He started off slow before he found the Rhythm and started fucking the shit out of you. Your mind began to feel hazy as in this position, you could feel every single inch of them and it fucking drove you mad.

Your small hands gripped the covers, grabbing the satin fabric tightly. He was literally fucking you senseless. Nothing but the sound of your ass bouncing off his torso could be heard. With each thrust, you felt something jolt inside you. His cock was piercing through you almost. Your mind wasn’t filled with anything but him and his length, hoping his constant thrusting didn’t stop. You wanted to be wasted off him. “M-More. I want more.” You whimpered and he went crazy inside you. He pulled your hair and started to go faster than before. His grip on your hair was strong, hurting your scalp almost. He was farther than your cervix and your eyes started to flutter. He was destroying you. Showing you what more really was.

“K-Katsuki, I-I,” you tried to say something but you couldn’t. He was fucking you too hard for words to even form from your lips. His hand rubbed down your back and he held your waist down into the bed and started ramming himself inside your already abused pussy. “Who’s pussy is this?” He asked and you answered quickly, “Yours- Katsuki please.” You begged as he stretched you out even more. He slapped your ass making you yelp. Your moans were muffled into the covers as you buried your head into them. You felt so dizzy, your vision was blurry and you felt hopeless. Your legs started to shake, and your walls squeezed him tightly. You didn’t even have time to tell him because right then and there you came all over him but he didn’t care, he continued. After a few sloppy strokes he eventually came inside you.

You felt so violated and disgusted. “Fuck. Come and clean me up.” He demanded referring to his dick. You sat up, cum dripped from out of your pussy as you took his length in your mouth, cleaning up the mess you made on it. Once you were done he grabbed you buy your chin, pulling you towards his face. Sweat dripped from down his face. You started blinking a lot when you felt nervous. He noticed and chuckled lowly before placing a kiss on your forehead and cheek, “You look so pretty all worn out from me y/n.” He stated. You turned away embarrassed and still shaken up by what he just had done. “I’m tired.” You told him and he stood up, walking into the bathroom to get a towel.

“If that’s only how long you can last you’re in for a rude awakening with me next time my love.”