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randombush3 · 2 days

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a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken?

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible.

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier.

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.”

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.”

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?”

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.”

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.” You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.”

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to.

“I am always on your side.”

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be.

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase.

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

…

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted.

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you.

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad.

And… you, apparently.

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door.

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.”

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously.

“Of course.”

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence.

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft.

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.”

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?”

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this.

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration.

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection?

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor?

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility.

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.”

“Maybe she only likes men.”

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.”

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.”

…

You are more than a little confused.

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend.

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much.

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you?

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world.

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar.

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?”

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.”

“I cried for months.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.”

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes.

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself.

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.”

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving.

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said.

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone.

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.”

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.”

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy.

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more.

Do you regret it?

It’s unclear.

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here.

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become.

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date.

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official.

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face.

There are many reasons why you go out with him.

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied.

He’s not Ona. You know that.

That's the whole point.

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care.

But you just… don’t.

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head.

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself.

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago.

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them.

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.”

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday.

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona.

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger.

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?”

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country.

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.”

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen.

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited.

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially.

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming.

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it.

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun.

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced.

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything.

It won’t. (It does.)

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight.

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden.

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun.

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible.

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk.

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up.

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore.

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit.

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom.

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’.

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right.

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier.

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.”

It’s not true.

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again.

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done.

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit.

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill.

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents.

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again.

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam.

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off.

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams.

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.”

“Why?”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.”

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona.

She picks up.

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”

“Are you back at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.”

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles.

“Need me to show you around the city?”

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no?

…

Your visit goes very well.

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend.

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life.

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery.

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement.

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?”

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa.

“Who do you care about, then?”

“You.”

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day.

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend.

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter.

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before.

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back.

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly.

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.”

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers.

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her.

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh.

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs.

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?”

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly.

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.”

Ona blushes.

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless.

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on.

And that’s when she whispers it.

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering.

It has taken years but it does not matter.

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home.

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle smut

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jinkiezzsstuff · 3 days

Note

Hello!!!

Can I put in a writing request??

Because I love your writing!!! 🥹

Can you do (either human alastor.. or demon alastor i love both but human alastor has a chokehold on me haha) but his partner is plus size and they are very self conscious about it

Can be smut if you like (I'm waaaay okay with that)

omg yessss i’m gonna do human alastor because he does need some attention <3 also felt this personallyyyy so i did it sooo fast 🙈 ima chunky gorl myself and with summer approaching things always get tough. i lot of what i wrote here is my own personal experience and shit so i don’t want anyone to think this is something they should feel or notice or be ashamed of! Just so you know!

warnings: SMUT 18+, gender neutral but use of clit, feral alastor, Human!alastor, kinda ooc in the way he is ravenous for reader sexually, reader doesn’t know he’s a murderer, self loathing, self hate, body worship maybe, biting breifly, alastor kinda rich or whatever for the time, insecure reader, plus size reader, body part like stomach thighs highlighted, crying, husband alastor, comfort from Al. swearing, lmk if there’s anything else! NOT PROOFREAD YALL

also i wanted to use junoisded ‘s work (on IG) but i don’t think they like things reposted unless asked and i am way to shy but go check them out their human alastor is mouthhhhh watering gawd

Closing the door behind you, you sat your bag on the table a sullen look on your face. It was particularly difficult week for you, it was getting warmer in New Orleans and when it got warm what was really meant was hot humid gross. It almost felt embarrassing at times to leave the house, the clothes companies made weren’t anything like what other people wore they were hideous, and you sweat, and just felt kind of self conscious.

Especially with Alastor. His popularity grew expeditiously over the last couple of years, with people now being able to recognize his voice all around. His popularity was a gift and a curse, a gift because you didn’t have to work through the stock market issues whereas many people your age did, and a curse because more women and men alike wanted him.

You weren’t jealous because Alastor made it pretty clear he only had eyes for you, however you couldn’t stop the comparison, you usually felt decent about yourself and your looks and Alastor made you more assured in your beliefs. But as more people would recognize him, and he’d give them that charming smile, and they’d flirt, you’d get a little jealous and insecure.

You walked into yours and Alastors shared bedroom, slipping off your shoes and looking into the mirror. You wanted to buy some nice clothing for an event you and Alastor were attending within the week, it was very hush puppy as it served contraband, however you couldn’t find anything at the market, and the tailors would be just too much to ask of Alastor.

Your lip quivered not with sadness but frustration, you just wanted to be at the same level as everybody else, without the issues, and being constantly told how to eat or use your body or dress yourself. Sitting on the bed your thighs spread out around you, stomach resting atop. Tears kept flowing pitifully as you took a moment to wrap your head around your spiraling thoughts. Taking a deep breath you wrapped your arms around your back, begining to take off the clothes that stuck to your sweaty body.

‘Loose leisure clothes.’ You chanted as you shook your trousers to your ankles and opened the drawers to your dresser. You remembered as you caught sight of one of Alastors red suit jackets, a gentleman who had commented that Alastor was far too small to lend his jacket to you on a cold night, which make you feel so bad about yourself. Slamming the drawer closed you cradled your head, this wasn’t fair, you would be ten times better with yourself if people weren’t so casually cruel.

You were okay, you were loved, but it seemed in other aspects of life people had to assure you weren’t due to how you looked. “My dear, what’re you doing all dressed down like this?” Alastors voice rang out joyfully. With a jump and a squeak your arms go to cover your body, however Alastor had already turned his back for you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart! I should’ve knocked!” Even though Alastor was being respectful, a nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was because he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

“Uhm, well you can look actually…” You muttered voice just above a whisper as you rubbed your arm. Alastors hands were on his hips, elbows pointed out head facing down, then he perked up head looking behind him. Smile present on his face his eyes shamelessly drank you up. “I couldn’t find any clothes,” You mutter your throat closing as the tears returned with the thoughts of before.

Alastors body finally turned his smile falling as he watched your from recoil away from his gaze. Stepping into the room his dress shoes clinked against the wooden floor as he approached you his arms outstretched to you. Immediately you fell into his embrace holding back the urge to cry, you wanted to be as strong as he was; smiling through no matter.

However when his hand began rubbing your back, soft words of worry falling from his lips, you lost it. Burying your face into his shoulder you cried, muttering your insecurities into him as he cradled you. “And Alastor they must think i’m a joke, you’re so small compared to me.” You cried out, pulling back to look into his chocolate eyes. Quickly he pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket, his smile now a frown as he watched tears roll down your cheeks.

“My my, that’s the best part doudou. I love having flesh to bite, grip, squeeze,” Alastor grinned speaking through his closed teeth as he gripped your waist pulling your hips to his and you looked down hiding your face at his ridiculous nickname for you. “I feel proud to be able to feed you, my mother would be proud too, she’d absolutely love you. Worry not my dearest doe, i will have anything tailored to your need, and any crude bastard to comment on you I will hand slaughter the night of thee event, just to send a little message.” Alastor puffed his chest into you, his voice strangely dark and possessive, his eyes gleaming with pride as he kneaded your flesh beneath his fingers.

You never thought about it like that Alastor being able to properly provide for you, no; that was the fun of Alastor though he always knew how to twist things into something better than. Not to mention the idea of him being willing to commit a crime for you in the midst of a serial killer going around, that was something very special to you, strangely enough.

“Alastor you’re insane sometimes, but i love you.” You grinned finally, in turn making Alastors smile return larger then ever. Hands crawling up his chest and neck, you pulled him close and into a kiss. Your immediately Alastor gave into your tug, crashing his lips quickly onto your own roughly, his body grinding into your own as he did so, impatient to show you how much you mean to him though his psychical affections.

His hands gripped every little bit of flesh they passed, trailing up and down your body rolls and all, indulging his desire for you. You moaned lightly into his mouth when you felt the hard pressure of him pressed against your thigh. Alastor pulled away biting your lip as he did so, dragging it out. His eyes were lidded and one of his perfectly gelled curls fell forward and down touching the brim of his eyeglasses. “See how quickly you make me indecent my dear? Oh sweet doe, you make me so disgusting.” Alastor whined in a way, which you’d never heard, and stuffed his head into your neck, kissing, biting and sucking at your warm neck

“Alastor i’m sweaty!” You squeal as he dragged his tongue up your neck, biting at the flesh under you chin. “I know,” He mumbled quickly barely breaking away from decorating your neck. “So stop!” You huffed noncommittally as your hands came down to rest on his shoulders, lightly pushing him. “Why my little doe, you taste better this way.”

Alastor pulled back his coy smile on display as he did so, there was something so disbelieved and feral about how he looked despite not being unkept in the slightest. You felt slightly embarrassed by him admitting he liked you sweaty, but it was also comforting knowing that things you thought made you repulsive, actually attracted him.

“Come to bed with me, chérie?” Alastor hummed slyly, pulling your wrists gently toward the direction of the bed, where he was walking. “To sleep?” You asked flatly eyebrow raised, this caused a genuine laugh to bubble out of Alastors chest his head shaking just a bit. “No, and i think you knew that.” He whispered as he tugged you into him and then down onto the bed. You tensed as he did so, sitting up on your elbows you look at him and scold him.

You paused as Alastors gaze beat down on you hotly, it was sinful how he was looking at you with that cheshire grin on his face. He pulled off his glove with his teeth and used his degloved hand to remove the other one before he undid his vest, chucking it aside carelessly. You took a deep breath your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you watched him closely.

Yes you’ve had sex with Alastor before, although neither of you had a high libido so it wasn’t often, and when it was it wasn’t needy like now, no, it was loving, passionate. Alastor tossed his shirt aside crawling ontop of you right after, groaning as he pressed his bulged into the warmth of your thighs. Whimpering you covered your eyes unable to face the lustful look he was giving you.

His warm flesh melted into yours as he lowered himself ontop of you, his skin hot and sticky from being out in the louisiana heat, his breath tickled your skin as his lips dragged around your neck teasingly. “Gosh Al, I - you’re making me feel so- please.” You moaned quietly unable to place the feeling coursing through you. A mixture of wanting to beg him to devour you and wanting to hide yourself away from his heated gestures.

“What is is it you need, my dear?” His voice was sweet like honey as he breathed his sin into your ear, hand coming up under the leg hole of your undergarments, inching closer to your core. You breath was quievered as your hands found there way to his slightly musicled biceps, sinking your nails into them. Finally he backed up on his knees, and yanked down your undergarments, making you gasp.

Your husband has never been this, it made you dizzy and confused, why has he been hiding such ravenousness from you? Alastor looked down at you with pity, your legs reflexively closed before he could get a glimpse of your pretty. “Please darling don’t be modest, I need you more then ever now. I’m a starved man don’t you know? I need your quench.” You watched him as he spoke, his eyebrows knitted his face soft as he mockingly pleaded with you while he undid the button in his slacks and soon pulled down the zipper.

With jagged breaths you watched him disrobe, pulling his cock from his boxers and stroking it for you to see. Precum dripped from the tip and down his shaft, mixing into the dark coiled public hair at the base. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You whined looking away, you heard him chuckle at an octave you’ve never heard before. “What’s wrong darling? Can’t stand to see how perverse you make me? How cruel, honestly.” He huffed before his warm hands came to grip on your knees, yanking them apart. “My dear, you’re absolutely devine, you have no idea. It’s sickeningly cruel on my part, but I can’t help but be greedy about the way I only get to have you. In a world of commons, i get the rare.” Alastors hips slotted in between your thighs like many times before but this time you were so soaked you needed no foreplay. The head of his shaft prodded at your entrance, making your hips tilt forward attempting to gain friction and contact.

“Please Al, don’t make me beg you.” You moaned quietly, ashamed of how quickly you bent to his will. Alastor grinned down at you, admiring your body relaxed and needy beneath him. There wasn’t a soul he’d replace you for, you were everything and more. He could come clean about his murders and you’d kiss his cheek and serve him some whisky for his stress, because you were family, you were his.

Alastor slid into you slowly, feeling every inch of you against him, his thighs pressed against your own, he loved the feeling of you consuming him all at once. The way your body embraced his own was heaven on earth, you were his comfort that he didn’t deserved. As he watched you beneath him gasp, shake and moan as he sunk into slowly, harshly and repeatedly, he whispered sweet nothings to you. He let out a condescending chuckle while calling you a good pet, told you your body was his to love too and for shame for berating it.

You saw stars and he would slowly pull out and slam back in, believing that was the extent of this session. However, Alastor pressed his hips fully up against your own, kneading the softness of your belly as he stilled. Leaning down he captured you in a kiss, catching you off guard. You reciprocated fisting his curly hair and pulling him closer, which in response made him growl and grunt into you. He felt you clench around him at the sound, and in the moment decided he’d show you how good you make him feel, how much he loves you.

Suddenly Alastor pulled his hips back, and grinded back down into you, his public hair tickling your swollen clit, juices from your arousal squelching as he did so. This time he wasn’t slow, his pace was even and moderate, fucking you into the mattress so hard, the springs snapped, the wood creaked and you swore the bed frame was moving. Alastor pulled away from your swollen lips burying his face in your neck, he moaned for you.

You rolled your eyes back at the sounds he made, ahs, uhs and groans that were only for you. “Oh fuck Alastor i’m gonna cum,” You squeaked clenching your toes tightly as he jackhammered into you, breathing and gasping into your ear as he felt you grip him. Alastor wasn’t proud to admit it but he was too weak to respond, instead he bit down, sucking and groaning into your skin. His pace got clumsy as you cried out in ecstasy, coiling your body around him as you came harshly.

Your arm around his back, one arm around his neck and gripping his hair, and your legs tightly locked around your hips, yeah Alastor couldn’t resist himself from shooting strings into you. Your body jolted as he came shaking your while body, his grunts and whines making your sensitive hole clench him nearer. Without a warning his body collapsed ontop of yours, a deep breath escaping him as he finally relaxed. “I’ve never felt that before dear,” Alastor admitted after a moment of silence. “Me neither, made me forget about everything.” You say hazily, your voice lifted and raw from the noises you let out.

Alastor chucked his fogged glasses to the side, pulling himself out with a huff. Smiling sweetly you watched him gently place a kiss on your stomach and walk off. Sitting up you nearly went to call after him, before his naked body came waltzing back with a rag. “Wanna have a lazy evening in chérie?” You hummed approvingly, and attempted to take the rag, he scoffed at you and lightly pushed your hand away. Softly and embarrassingly so, he cleaned you from himself, enjoying the sight while he was at it.

Once finished Alastor returned the rag as you readied the bed, wanting to cuddle with him. Coming back in Alastor went to grab you both clothes before you called to him. “Can, well- i want to feel you still?” You questioned more than said. Shutting the drawer with a slam he grinned like the little cheshire he was and crawled into bed with you. You pulled him in and he you, nuzzling yourself into his chest you whimpered at the contact, feeling various emotions run through you.

“I chose you my dear, for many reasons not only your looks, your love, your passion but your body too, I love all parts of you, and I know how thoughtless people can be, I will protect you from those comments in the future.” Alastor whispers into your head kissing the top of it right after. You caressed his chest with your nails, throwing your leg over his torso. “Thank you Alastor. I love you too, hell there’s nothing that would make me not love you.” Alastor scoffed his grin returning. “Even murder?” He questioned angling his neck to the side to meet your eyes. Smiling up at him you gave a point nod. “Even murder.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel smut #alastor imagine #human alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #human alastor x reader #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor

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puckinghischier · 2 days

Text

Chef’s Kiss

Nico x reader, soft!Nico, domestic!Nico

summary: Nico fluff, basically

notes: i just really love soft nico and couldn’t get him out of my head so here’s this (also ignore the fact i keep using the same pics in my posts, i need to find more 💀)

[2k]

Nico was always trying to do little things to bring a smile to your face. Whether it was having the laundry washed, folded, and put away by the time you got home, sending you funny videos and silly selfies throughout the day, or simply having a glass of your favorite wine waiting on you as soon as you walked through the door, he loved providing small moments of happiness for you. He didn’t have time to do things for you often, his schedule getting increasingly busier as the season goes on, but today he had a completely free afternoon and wanted to have your favorite meal plated and waiting for you to enjoy as soon as you got off work. The idea came to him when you called him on what was supposed to be your lunch break.

“Neeks, I’m so sorry but I have to work late again. I’m having to re-do all of my reports for the day because my boss didn’t like the format that I used, even though it’s the exact format he told me to use three days ago! I swear sometimes he just wants to make my life a living hell. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

Nico had a fond smile on his face, despite the nature of your call; hearing you rant to him about work was always something he looked forward to. While he didn’t love the fact that you were upset and that your boss was a grade A asshole, he loved being the one you came to when you were frustrated and just needed to blow off steam. It always made him happy to know that he was the one you called when you needed a mid-day pick me up on particularly stressful days. He had tried to tell you multiple times to just quit—that he makes enough for the both of you to live on – but you wouldn’t even entertain the thought. You’d always tell him no and that you needed to pull your weight with the bills and rent, too. You didn’t want to have all of the tears you shed while you were in college go to waste. To quote your exact words ‘I’m going to use this damn degree even if it kills me’. He admired your work ethic and that you didn’t want to have him be your own personal bank, but it was times like this he wishes you would just take his suggestion to heart and actually quit.

“I understand, but don’t work too late, schatz. It’s not good for you. Tuck and I will be here waiting on you when you get here,” Nico looks over at the cat quietly snoozing over on the couch. “I noticed you left your lunch in the fridge; do you need me to bring you something? I don’t have to go back to the rink today for anything, so I could pick up something from that sushi place you like and we could have a little lunch date? Give you a few minutes to reset and recharge?”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t have time to eat today anyways. At this point working through lunch is the only way I’ll be able to come home before midnight. Thanks for the offer, though, Neeks. I have to go, my boss is calling me, probably to tell me something else I did wrong. I’ll text you when I leave, love you,” you hang up the phone, not giving Nico a chance to respond. He knows your boss hates when he catches you taking personal calls on company time, so he just sends you a simple “I love you, too. Please eat something and don’t work too hard” text since you hung up before he had time to tell you himself.

As soon as he pressed send, Nico grabbed his keys and took off to the grocery store. He really only went to pick up the ingredients to make dinner, but he couldn’t help making a quick stop at the local florist, grabbing a small bouquet of daisies he knows you’ll love. As he was driving home, he remembers this bakery you had told him you’ve been wanting to try, so he finds himself in said bakery picking out a few baked goods for you to taste test (and maybe a few for himself, too). By the time he had made it back home it was well past five, when you typically leave your office for the day. Once he brought his haul of groceries, flowers, and pastries in the door, Tuck greeted him by meowing loudly for his food.

“Sorry, Tuck, I’m late for dinner, aren’t I?” Nico asks the cat as he walks over and fills the hangry cat’s food bowl. “Now that you’re fed, I need to get to work on feeding your mom. That is, if I can manage not to burn anything.”

Nico got to work immediately, turning on the cooking playlist you had made and grabbing his ‘Kiss the Swiss’ apron you had jokingly gifted him for Christmas. He pulled out the recipe book that your mom gave you two as a house-warming gift when you first moved in. Just last week you had been talking about how you missed your mom’s famous pasta, so he decided that was his attempted dish of the night. He laid out all of the ingredients and followed the recipe as closely as he could, paying special attention to all of the little notes your mother added in the margins of the typed recipe. About an hour into Nico’s cooking you sent him a text that you were nearly finished and would be home soon, but he was so busy trying to perfect making pasta from scratch that he never even looked at his phone. When he was on his third attempt at the pasta dough, he heard the front door open.

He looked over at the clock to see that it was nearly seven-thirty. He heard your keys hit the bowl sitting on the small table beside the front door and your sigh of relief once you took your shoes off. He could hear the soft thuds your feet made on the hardwood while you walked into the living room. He looked up from the counter to see your tired body drift over to the couch where Tuck laid sound asleep.

“Hey, Tuck. How was your day? Did you catch a lot of Z’s? Dream about catching mice? Poop on your dad’s pillow again?” Nico heard your soft voice say, chuckling at your last question.

The poor kitten had, somehow, got locked in yours and Nico’s bedroom a few weeks ago and neither of you noticed until it was well past feeding time and the little furball hadn’t come running into the kitchen screaming for his dinner. It took the two of you twenty minutes to hear the soft meows coming from your bedroom, the TV in the living room having drowned them out for most of the day. As soon as you opened the door Tuck came sprinting out of the room as fast as he could, acting as if he’d been in there for days. He ran straight to his food bowl and turned around, glaring at Nico and yourself. Later that evening the two of you made your way to the bedroom to settle down for the night only to find that Tuck had left a nice, smelly present on his pillow. Nico was appalled, to say the least. Gagging and holding his pillow out with straight arms as if it was poisonous. You, however, were doubled over with laughter. You fell onto the bed and was laughing hysterically when Nico finally came back into the room, no pillow to be seen.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing; it’s disgusting! The cat shit on my pillow!” Nico expressed, standing in front of the bed with his arm crossed, looking like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“Neeks, it’s hilarious! Out of all the places in the room he could’ve shit, he saw your pillow and thought ‘Ah, yes. Dad’s pillow. I think this will be my new bathroom.” You wipe the tears from your eyes, slightly out of breath from your laughing fit.

“Well, of course it’s funny when it’s not your pillow! If he would’ve shit on your pillow, you would be as upset as I am.” Nico huffed, still in his childish stance.

“Wait, where is your pillow?”

“In the trash.”

“You threw away the whole pillow!?” you exclaimed, starting to laugh all over again.

“Of course, I threw away the whole pillow! I’m not about to sleep on that thing tonight! It’s contaminated!”

“Nico, you could’ve just gotten a new pillow case. You didn’t have to throw your whole pillow away! What are you going to sleep on tonight?” You asked him, amusement clear in your voice.

“Well…I didn’t think that far ahead,” Nico said, his stance deflating a little.

He ended up sleeping on a throw pillow from the couch that night, picking up a new pillow on his way home from practice the next morning. Since then, the two of you have always made sure to keep your bedroom door open anytime Tuck isn’t in his usual spot on the couch.

Nico smiles at the memory, completely forgetting the fact that he was supposed to be kneading the pasta dough in his hands. By the time his thoughts circulate back to the task at hand, he hears you ask the cat “Where’s your dad, huh?” followed by the sound of your clothes rustling as you move to get off of the couch.

“Nico? You in here?” you call as you walk around the corner of the living room into the kitchen. “Neeks- Oh, there you are. What are you doing?” You stopped in the doorway of the kitchen when you took in the scene in front of you. The pots and pans on the stove, the steam coming from a pot of boiling water, the smell of chicken in the oven, and the bouquet of flowers and box of pastries on the counter next to them. Then your eyes move over to Nico, noticing he was absolutely covered in flour. He had flour in his hair, on his face, on his apron, in the floor, and all over the counter.

“Nico, what the hell are you doing? What is all of this?” you asked him once the two of you made eye contact.

“Well, I was trying to have dinner waiting on you when you got home because I know you’ve had a shitty day, but I’ve just now realized that I don’t know how to make pasta from scratch.”

“Why are you trying to make pasta from scratch?” you walk towards him, laughing at how distraught he looks.

“You said you’ve been craving your mom’s pasta recipe, so I thought it would be a good way to cheer you up after the day that you’ve had,” he replied, grabbing a towel to wipe the flour off of his hands.

“Nico, I love you, I do. And I appreciate the effort, but please throw that ball of…whatever that is in the trash and just use dried pasta next time,” you look over at what’s supposed to be pasta dough, reaching him and placing your arms on his shoulders, hands coming together to rest on the back of his neck.

“I try to make you a nice meal and this is the response I get? No ‘nice try’ or ‘wow, it smells great in here!’” he jokes, looking down at you, attempting to look offended, but his eyes only reflect love and amusement.

“You’ll get real praise when you learn how to make pasta from scratch. For now, consider this your compliment,” you stand on your toes, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“You call that a compliment? Read the apron and try again.”

You laugh before meeting him halfway for a real kiss this time, thinking to yourself just how lucky you were to have Nico in your life.

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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 2 days

Text

Needy (Matt)

Request: No

Warnings: friends to lovers, dom!matt, degradation, spit kink, daddy kink, slightly rough, whiny!reader, desperate!matt

A/N: very old fic and not proofread

3rd person pov

Matt’s not really the type for one-night stands or hookups, so when him and his girlfriend broke up, he was on his own. It had been a solid eight months without sex, jerking off being his only form of relief. Due to this, Matt’s been jerking off a lot as his orgasms from his hand were a lot less satisfying than the ones he could get from a female.

Apparently he’d been jerking off too much lately because now he can’t seem to make himself cum. Living in the same house as their extremely attractive hometown friend Y/n also wasn’t very helpful. She wore a lot of short shorts and tops that showed off her cleavage perfectly, none of the boys had a problem with it. Though it did make Matt hard most of the time, right now was one of those times.

The four were filming a car video, this one about assumptions fans had about us. They all picked out some assumptions, every time Y/n or Nick said something they’d lean a little bit forward over the center console. This was a problem for Matt as Y/n was wearing a tank top that obviously showed some cleavage, but for Matt it was enough to make him hard.

Matt couldn’t help but stare at her cleavage as well as her glossy lips as she spoke. He tried not to make it too obvious but he could tell it would be noticeable on the video, there was no way Nick could edit it out. Matt knew the fans were going to call him out on it and make edits but he really couldn’t help it, he was pent up and she was obviously attractive.

The four finished filming and headed back home, during the drive Matt couldn’t help but feel guilty over his constant staring at his best friend’s body. When they arrived home they all went to do their own thing, Nick being the only one who went to sleep right away. The other three went off to their own rooms, but that was short-lived as Y/n went up to Matt’s room a few minutes later.

Y/n’s pov

We just got home so I took a quick shower, blow-dried my hair, and put on some pajama shorts with an oversized shirt. Afterward, I was bored so I decided to see if Matt wanted to hang out, I went up to his room and knocked on the door. After a couple of seconds, Matt opened the door “Can we hang out? I’m bored.” I pouted at him. “I was getting ready to watch a movie but you can watch it with me if you want.” he said as he opened his door more for me to come inside. Matt closed the door and crawled onto his bed over the covers, patting the spot next to him.

A few minutes into the movie I started getting cold “Matt I’m cold, can we like cuddle please?” I pouted at him again causing him to crack a small smile. “Sure, come ‘ere.” Matt replied as he wrapped his left arm around my waist. I wrapped both my arms around his torso basically hugging him as I put my head on his shirtless chest, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath me.

3rd person pov

After a couple of minutes, Y/n put her leg over Matt’s lap, her pussy now pressed against his thigh. Her own thighs across his lap, pulling a small and barely audible groan from Matt, this doesn’t go unnoticed by Y/n as she slightly moved her thigh again. Matt was desperately trying not to get turned on and hard from this innocent action but he was so sensitive that it was almost impossible not to, plus Y/n was hot even if she was his best friend.

She moves her thigh to ‘get comfy’ and Matt grabs her thigh. “Stop moving your fucking leg.” he said sternly. She did it again, this time pressing her thigh down, feeling him get hard. “I know you want me Matt, you’ve not very subtle when you’re staring at my tits, ass, and lips.” She teased making Matt blush, he was about to say something when her left hand goes to press down on the tip of his cock.

This causes him to let out a moan as she does it again causing Matt to buck his hips up and whine. “What’s wrong Matty? Don’t get enough pussy?” she teases, “Shut up Y/n, don’t do that!” he replied. Y/n leans closer to Matt’s ear, whispering “Then I guess I won’t let you use me or cum in me…” placing a kiss on his neck before pulling away.

Y/n’s pov

I kissed Matt’s neck and was going to pull away but I guess what I said was the last straw for Matt because he quickly and roughly grabbed my hips, moving me to straddle him. His hand almost instantly going straight to my throat, choking me lightly “You think you’re so slick don’t you? I know you do shit to tease me and make me horny on purpose Y/n. It’s not funny, seems like you’re the needy one huh?” he spoke lowly.

I didn’t know what to say so I just stayed silent, this caused Matt to buck his hips up making his cock go right against my clit. This made my breath hitch before he moved his hand away from my throat to my hip like the other one. He used his hands on my hips to grind me down against him making me let out a few whimpers. Matt starts kissing up my neck until he got near my ear “I’m right, you are a fucking needy little whore. Wanted my cock so badly you don’t even know how to act huh? Fucking slut, I’m gonna show you who the fuck you belong to.” he whispers, making me whine.

“Ye-yes daddy ‘m such a slut for your c-cock! Please.” I said with a whine. “Please what baby? What do you want?” He teased, “Please use me Matt! I need your cock so bad, want your cum inside me please do something!” I begged. “Strip for me baby, leave your panties on.” he demanded before we undressed until we were both only in our underwear, “Always knew your tits were perfect babygirl. Wanna fuck ‘em but that’ll be another time, I know how badly my little whore needs my cock right now.” Matt says as he pulled my panties down.

He notices how wet I am, dragging a finger from my entrance up to my clit collecting the juices dripping out of me. “Mhm Matty please fuck me, need your cock so bad baby.” I begged him while pushing down his boxers. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Make you my cum slut, show you who fucking owns this pussy?” Matt says, teasing his tip at my entrance and leans down, kissing me roughly. The kiss quickly turns into a hot and heavy makeout with Matt quickly gaining dominance as my hands wrap around his neck.

My fingers threaded through his hair, lightly pulling it as I whimpered into the kiss before pulling away. “Fuck daddy, please! Want your cock, I’ll be a good girl I promise, just need you ple-“ I was cut off by Matt roughly thrusting into me, not giving me any time to adjust. “Is that better, is this what you wanted? Fucking slut.” Matt grunted out as his hand came up to wrap around my throat again, squeezing harder this time. I let out a loud moan causing Matt to choke me even harder as he slowed down his thrusts a bit.

“Shut up slut, don’t want Chris and Nick hearing you be treated like a whore do you?” I shook my head no as I bit my lip trying to hold my moans in. “S-Sorry just fe-feels so good.” I stuttered as Matt sped up his thrusts. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were my whines and Matt’s grunts along with his balls slapping against my ass with every thrust. I pulled Matt down closer so I suck hickies into his neck, pulling a rather loud groan from the back of his throat when I sucked on this one specific spot.

Matt moved his hand from my throat down to my clit, just barely touching it as I sucked more hickies into his neck. “Fuck, little slut marking me up, showing everyone who makes you feel good, huh?” He groans out before he pulls my head away from his neck. Matt starts to leave his own hickies all over my neck and chest, making me let out another loud moan. I received a light slap to my face before Matt’s hand tightly wraps around my throat, barely letting me breathe. His other hand coming up to tightly grip my jaw “Open your mouth.” he demanded.

I did as he said, Matt then spit in my mouth “Swallow bitch!” he demanded again as I followed his directions and swallowed before sticking my tongue out to show him I complied. “Good girl.” he praised “S-so close daddy! Want your cum, please.” I whined at him. “I fucking own you, understood? Cum for daddy!” he grunted out in my ear before smashing our lips together, swallowing each other’s moans as we both came. Matt’s hot cum coated my walls with white as he slowly fucked us through our orgasms.

After a minute or so Matt pulled out, running two fingers through the mixture of our cum spilling out of me, scooping it up, and shoving his cum coated fingers into my mouth. “Suck.” he told me, which I did, swiping my tongue around his fingers while sucking before pulling off with a pop. I pulled him down for one last kiss, Matt’s hand came up to cup my face lightly stroking my cheek. This kiss was unlike the others we had shared tonight, it was soft and passionate. He slowly pulled away smiling before he plopped down next to me.

It was quiet for a minute until Nick banged on the wall “Fucking finally, I share a wall with you jackass! Don’t ever do that shit again, I never want to hear you fucking my best friend!” he yelled irritated. Me and Matt both just laughed before I said a simple “Sorry Nick!” while Matt moved us under the covers, pulling me close. “I’m not sorry! I had to make my girl feel good, just did what needed to be done.” Matt added, giving me another kiss and pulled me even closer.

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hotluncheddie · 2 days

Text

Day 1: Accidental subspace

"Open Wide"

wc: 1.5k | rated: M | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, pre relationship, oblivious Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson, non-sexual subspace, aftercare

written for @subeddieweek <3

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

‘So I guess I’ll say something like.. Hi! I’m Steve, I’m just assisting the dentist to check that you’re flossing correctly, nothing to worry about.’ Steve says from above Eddie, putting on a customer service smile.

Steve’s facing down at him, floss in hand. ‘Totally routine procedure?’ He asks, pursing his lips. Then he looks directly at Eddie, face smoothing out into something fond. ‘But just relax for me okay?’ He says softly, moving some hair from Eddie’s cheek.

‘Okay.’ Eddie rasps, clearing his throat. He's still not used to being this close to Steve, even after being roommates for months. Still not used to having Steve’s full attention on him, even after being proper friends for a whole year.

And now Eddie’s here, and Steve has his gloved fingers in Eddie’s mouth. Eddie never realised how intimate the dentist could be. Not until he’s laying here on Steve’s bed, head on one of Steve’s pillows, bracketed by Steve’s thighs so he can lean over Eddie. Lean over and put his gloved fingers in Eddie’s mouth.

(28 hours earlier.)

‘Eddie please.’ Steve whines, sliding his torso across the table between them. Brandishing his clasped hands and burying his head in his elbows.

It’s too early for this. Eddie hasn’t even gotten half way through his coffee and Steve is sitting here asking him things.

Asking him things when it’s so early Steve hasn’t even changed out of his glasses yet.

How is Eddie supposed to think in these conditions?

‘Huh?’ Eddie asks, because, what?

‘I have to practice and the only reason they agreed to interview me for this is job is because I have experience with kids. I’lI need to show them my bedside manner is good dude.’ Steve explains, rapid, like he’s said it before.

Eddie’s eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing, he.. huh? ‘What’s that got to do with me Stevie?’ He asks, still totally lost and he can see down the front of Steve’s old sleep shirt.The chest hair is not helping him process.

Steve huffs, strands of hair on his forehead jumping. ‘I need to pretend you're a patent, floss your teeth and stuff. Just to get a feel for what they might get me to do when I go in.’

‘… Okay.’ Eddie says, still not fully sure what’s going on but, if it’ll help Steve, well, he honestly thinks he’d do pretty much anything.

‘Thank you thank you thank you thank you!’ Steve cheers, clapping Eddie on both shoulders and squeezing. Still leaning across the table. Eddie can see the freckles on Steve’s nose. ‘I’m buying you dinner! First dental assistant check I get, I’m taking. You. Out. Munson!’ Steve says, smile sunny and blinding and Eddie has no idea what his face is doing right now. But, if Steve keeps looking at him like that Eddie thinks he could cry. It’s early, and Steve is too pretty for his fragile constitution.

‘Good, that’s good. Now I’m going to get the teeth at the back okay?’ Steve asks, waiting for Eddie’s small nod. ‘Feel how I’m flossing both sides of the gum too? That’s how you need to do it at home, get rid of all the germs.’ And Eddie does, sort of, he feels something happening in the back of his mouth. Steve’s knuckle against his teeth, forcing them that little bit wider. Eddie’s not sure at what point his eyes slip closed but it’s not until Steve’s retracted his hand and is lightly dabbing Eddie’s chin with a tissue, that he opens them again.They feel so much heavier than before.

‘Sleepy?’ Steve murmurs, smiling down at him.

Eddie swallows and blinks slowly, brain not really processing what Steve just asked. He clears his throat. Is he tired? He slept pretty well last night so, not really. He does feel relaxed though.

Eddie blinks again, looking up at Steve. His bed backs onto the rooms little window and Steve refuses to get proper curtains for them. Instead keeping the light white lacy ones that were left from the elderly couple who lived here before. They let so much light through it would send Eddie insane, but the soft sort of shimmer that glows across Steve’s cheek and shoulders now, it’s pretty.

Steve really is so pretty. Eddie sighs, shifts deeper into the beds soft sheets. A really pretty guy, person.

Eddie knows this already, obviously. But, it feels different. Eddie thinks he’d crawl on all fours for Steve right now without even batting an eye.

Its kind of always been like that for him and pretty people though, ever willing to do anything for a bit of attention. But it’s never felt like this, never felt quite this intense.

Steve ask Eddie to open wide again, getting the other side of his teeth with the floss. Then he gently probes at each tooth’s gum with his finger. Eddie watches the curve of Steve’s eyebrow as he focuses. Eyelids so slow to blink and brain a soupy sort of fog, no thoughts up there. Just the nice feeling of his mouth being played with, Steve doing as he pleases.

The soupy floaty feeling travels down to his fingers a toes, stirs in his gut. Eddie feels like he’s getting his whole body massaged just through his teeth. Almost like he’s in a bath, or like there’s a mouth on his cock.

He makes a noise in his throat, it could honestly be a moan, but Steve’s fingers are in the way. That makes Eddie squirm. Steve’s fingers are in his mouth.

‘Almost done, you’re doing so well.’ Steve says gently.

Eddie really likes being here with Steve, letting him touch.

‘Close.’ Steve instructs finally, fingers pressed lightly into the hinge of Eddie’s jaw. ‘Good. You have nice teeth Ed.’ He murmurs.

Eddie hums happily, a little giggle bubbling out of him. He grins, showing Steve his teeth again, watching his eyebrows lift slightly. But his fingertips keep tracing Eddies jaw, following the curve of it, making goosebumps appear on Eddie’s arms.

‘M’gonna go get you some water okay? And a snack. You okay waiting here for me, for just a sec?’ Steve asks softly, now tracing the shape of Eddie’s lips.

Eddie thinks it’s okay, Steve’s bed has always been the most comfortable. He has the nicest sheets. Eddie nods.

Steve slides his legs out from under the pillow, padding out of the room, taking off his gloves and Eddie hears the fridge open.

Its colder without Steve here. Weird. He misses Steve. Wants him to come back. Maybe Eddie does feel kinda of strange actually, he wants Steve back touching his jaw. He feels so cold, like his chest is caving in.

‘Steve?’ He calls trying to sit up but his body isn’t cooperating. His mind not able to think through the fuzz. His hands trembling a little.

Steve comes back in, holding water and a granola bar. ‘Hey, hey Eddie I’m here. You’re okay.’ And sits down close, wrapping Eddie up in his arms.

‘Feel weird.’ Eddie mumbles, gripped Steve’s shoulders tight and fisting his soft t-shirt.

‘S’okay, let’s go sit on the couch yeah? Watch a movie.’ Steve says gently, rocking Eddie a little. He should maybe be embarrassed but it feels so much better to have Steve close that he doesn’t care. Doesn’t want Steve to go far again.

Eddie nods and stands up, making sure to keep hold of Steve’s arm, hugging it close as he leads them into the living room and onto their worn sofa.

Steve lays down first and pulls Eddie by their still linked fingers to settle between his thighs, Eddie’s face in Steve’s neck until he’s ready to come out. Making him take sips of water every few minutes, sharing bites of granola bar and stroking Eddie’s hair.

Eddie drifts, almost to sleep, he’s so comfortable and calm, wrapped up in Steve. The sound of baseball coming softly from the tv.

‘Hey! I’m home!’ Robin shouts from the front door, dropping her stuff and shuffling through. She stops dead once she sees them cuddles up on the couch. Eddie between Steve and the sofa, head now resting on his chest so he can see the tv too. Steve is channel hopping but stops to look at her. Eddie’s not really sure what to do, he definitely doesn’t want to move but, she’s looking at them really weird.

But Robin is focused on Steve, eyebrows moving, not talking. Eddie edges around to see Steve doing the same thing.

‘Happy for you.’ She finally huffs, stomping off to the kitchen. But Eddie hears her mumbling under her breath.

‘Only Steve fucking Harrington could get a guy with a dentist shtick, Jesus christ.’

‘Huh?’ Eddie asks Steve, really not sure what’s going on.

‘Nothin’ we’ll talk about it tomorrow, when you’re less foggy.’ Steve says softly, kissing Eddie on the forehead and pulling him back into his chest.

Tomorrow. Yeah, that sounds good, Eddie really doesn’t want to move.

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#they talk about it #and make out #:)#sub eddie week #steddie #steve x eddie #hotlunch #my fic #<3 #steddie fic #starting out M not E #gotta ease into it #sunday is for rest #SubEddieWeek

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callsign-mayhem · 1 day

Text

heartbreak feels so good (part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too.

He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.

And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him.

Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly.

Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.

‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’

It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.

‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’

It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious.

Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.

You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification.

‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow.

You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly.

‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’

Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’

This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then.

He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away.

‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted. ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’ ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.

Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.

Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac.

Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone.

‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’ ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start. Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’

Being this transparent was embarrassing.

‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’

You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.

‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.

‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’

Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs.

As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection.

While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over.

‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’

Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.

‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’

The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that.

‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’

You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage.

‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’ ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’

Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either.

Bradley needed another drink.

In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you.

‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.

His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him.

‘What’s up, Y/CS?’

Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next.

‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’

Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed.

‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’

She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence.

A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’ Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’ ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’

An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later.

But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing.

‘Y/N’s phone.’

A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life.

‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’ ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’

Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse.

‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’

Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already.

‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him.

Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.

Not that you’d want to escape.

Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.

That’s when it hit you.

You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed.

‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’

He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.

‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’

A wave of nausea hit you.

‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’

You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.

‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’

You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad.

What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.

The worst part was you saw it coming.

‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’

Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

‘Move.’

He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.

‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’

Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.

You called Elijah.

He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time.

Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you.

It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand.

What a beautiful night to have your heart broken.

There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to

convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way.

You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach.

You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley.

He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it.

‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’

You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders.

‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’

Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you.

‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’

He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.

‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly.

Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point.

‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’

You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.

In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’

Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out.

Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact.

You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love.

Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’

Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.

‘Apparently not.’

You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed.

‘This is news to me too.’

The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night.

‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’

He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it.

The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way.

Which was to say, it was a bad morning.

After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed.

When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now.

To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover.

With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast.

Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door.

Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time.

You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again.

‘Bradley?’

He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.

‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’

He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he

perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all.

‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’

You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee, eyeing

you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly.

‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly. ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’

Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally.

‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’

While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no.

‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’

The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.

‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’

You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy.

‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’

This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed.

You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try.

‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’

You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah.

When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop.

‘Thanks for breakfast.’ You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’

Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you.

But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home.

‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’

Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave.

‘I’d love to.’

It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.

Because he really didn’t want to go home.

He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.

A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.

‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’

The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said.

It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else.

E<3: always knew you were a slut.

You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text.

E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.

The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise.

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’

It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.

Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would.

‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you? ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’

The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions.

‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.

Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts.

‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled

So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.

‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’

You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested.

‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’

You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever.

‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’

From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him.

‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time.

The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it.

Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly. He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’

He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.

‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’

The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.

‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’

Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.

‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired. You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’

The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much.

‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’

Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.

And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart.

‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.

Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek.

‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’

He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything.

By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly.

If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears.

Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly.

For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day.

He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them.

But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.

End of part one.

135 notes · View notes

shmaptainwrites · 3 days

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — It was never Reader's plan to be a single mother to a newborn child, but a longtime friend steps in and before long they both have the family they've always wanted, the only catch: they're still just friends

WORD COUNT — 13.6K

WARNINGS — mentions of pregnancy and birth, breastfeeding (like non descriptive? does this need to be a warning?)

NOTE — Okay this fic has been in the works for a while and I have been swamped with school so I'm so happy I'm finally able to post something because it's literally been a full-ass month since I last came out with anything ._. hoping once finals are over I can get back into my writing groove and give some of my ideas the attention they deserve!

Middle photo credit goes to @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

“Are you sure this is okay?” you looked back while holding a baby carrier in both hands.

“Like I told you back at the hospital, and in the car, and then again in the car, I promise this is okay,” James assured you, following right behind, bags under each arm. “You just went through a 40 hour labour, did you really think it would be a smart move to come home alone?”

He was right about that, physically you were exhausted, you were sure how much longer you could keep your eyes open.

“Go take a shower, I’ll look after her until you get out,” he suggested. “If you had a support person here you would have taken shifts.”

“I know, but you have a life James,” you sighed. “One that didn’t involve your friend getting pregnant and then taking care of her.”

“Would it make it any better if I told you I really don’t mind? I like spending time with you, it’s why we’ve been friends for so long,” he put the bags down by the table and then placed a hand on your shoulder.

“James, I love you, but I’m going to be brutally honest because my filter has vanished. This is what happens to all your wives, all your girlfriends. I really don’t need that happening to us too,” you said.

“It won’t,” he pressed. “Come on, just take the shower. I know you want to.”

You sighed, “Alright, but I’m not gonna call for you to come in the middle of the night and every which time of day. If you want to come and see us, do it of your own accord and if you don’t want to then don’t,” you emphasized. “Do what you want, not what you think I want.”

“If I say I will, will you go take a shower?” James asked and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t drop my baby while I’m in there, okay?” you pointed at him. “You still owe me for that vase you broke.”

“You mean the tacky one your crappy ex-boyfriend’s mom gave you? I think I did you a favour there.”

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know?” you said carefully putting the carrier down in the living room and looking down at your resting daughter for a moment before heading towards your room.

“I love you too,” he said simply, replacing you by her side and keeping a close eye on her while she slept.

You had to admit, it was a relief to be able to step into the shower, knowing there was someone you trusted outside looking after the small human you were now fully responsible for. At least before dealing with the stress and everything that would come afterwards you’d be able to be clean.

When you came out of your bedroom after your shower, dressed in the most comfortable clothes you could find lying around, you saw James in the kitchen, the carrier now propped up on the table while he unpacked something from some grocery bags.

“I was craving Indian, do you want some?” he asked.

“Of course I do, the food at your hospital sucks, hand it over,” you put your hand out and he gave you a bowl so you could serve yourself some rice and curry. “She’s still asleep?”

“Woke up once, but I got her to fall back asleep pretty easily. She might get hungry soon though too.”

“So I should eat while I still have the chance,” you sat down at the island and began munching on the food, turning around the carrier so you could see your daughter.

It was interesting, she’d been around only for a short few days but you could barely ever take your eyes off her.

“Did you pick a name for her yet?” James asked, leaning over the table and eating his portion of dinner.

“I think so,” you nodded. “I was between two when she was born, but now that I look at her she fits one better than the other.”

“So what’s the winner?”

“Liana,” you smiled and brushed your fingers along her small curled toes. “It suits her doesn’t it?”

“I think it does,” he nodded. “You made a pretty cute baby.”

“I made a very cute baby, thank you very much,” you scoffed with a chuckle. “You think you could do better?”

“Well I don’t have a uterus so I don’t think we’ll ever be able to find out,” he shook his head. “Shame, I probably would have demolished you.”

“As if,” you laughed, continuing to eat more food just as Liana began to stir awake. “And there’s my cue.”

You stood up and carefully took her out of the carrier, cautious of supporting her neck before moving over to the couch where you could comfortably feed her.

“Once you’re done I’ll burp her,” James said. “So you can keep eating.”

“Sure,” you nodded. “Got practice from your med school days?”

“Yeah, actually,” he nodded. “I thought originally I might specialize in working in the NICU so I spent a lot of time in the maternity ward.”

“What made you change your mind?” you asked.

“I would have burnt out,” he admitted. “Seeing babies and spending time with them is one thing, but seeing them sick and sometimes not get better? It’s a lot harder than you’d imagine.”

You hummed thoughtfully, “You would have been good in that department if you decided to go that route. I think at least.”

“Really, why do you think so?”

“James, you’ve always been great with kids and parents. Don’t you remember how we met?”

He chuckled to himself, “Summer camp days. Yeah, you really did have to know your way around both.”

“You somehow managed, as a nineteen-year-old, to calm a child who was freaking out about staying away from home and dealing with an unhappy parent of a different child. I think your people skills just got better as you got older.”

“I don’t think there’s much in life that trains you to deal with crises as much as being a camp counsellor.”

“You can test your skills with Liana and see if you’ve still got the magic when it comes to babies,” you teased, followed by a yawn.

“Trust me, I definitely do,” he assured you. “Babies love me.”

“And do you love babies?”

“I do, and I think I’m gonna end up loving yours a little more than most,” he admitted.

“Good, she’s gonna need it,” you sighed. “I’m gonna need it.”

There was a pause for a moment before James spoke up again,

“Have you talked to him since the break up?” he asked and you shook your head, feeling the tears develop in your eyes.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, not right now,” you whispered, looking down at Liana again.

James did not peg your boyfriend as the abandoning type, but after he had coaxed the news out of you during one of your visits, he could see how much it crushed you to think of what lied ahead. Not because you didn’t want a child, but because Liana was all you wanted and you thought you were on the same page as your partner, but when it came down to things he couldn’t hold up the mask he’d been wearing any longer.

“You should talk about it sometime though, right?” James said softly. “Doesn’t have to be with me, but you’ve been so laser focused on getting through the past nine months you haven’t really processed what happened.”

Liana had since finished feeding and you carried her over to the kitchen island, passing James a burp cloth that he could drape across his shoulder before taking her from your hands, after you pressed a small kiss to her forehead.

“Not sure if I want to process it,” you admitted. “I’d rather focus on her.”

“And I’d rather you take care of yourself so you don’t crash and burn,” he said.

You knew he was right, but it was nicer to pretend you were alone from start to finish than even imagining the possibility that someone was supposed to be with you through everything. The doctors appointments, the morning sickness, the preparation.

Instead you ended up feeling like a burden to your friends who had gone out of their way to help you and be there for you.

“Okay,” you nodded simply. “I’ll do it for you and her then.”

“It’ll end up being for you in the end,” he assured. “But just…trust me on this okay?”

“I do,” you smiled. “Just like I trust you with her.”

You finished eating your dinner while James took care of Liana and even managed to get her to go back to sleep. It seemed that even though she’d only been in the world a short while, she felt just as safe in his arms as she did in yours.

“You can put her down if you want. I have a cot set up in my room,” you pointed.

“I’m alright like this,” he shook his head. “I’ll hold her until you’re done then I’ll leave you guys so you can get some sleep.”

Considering how hungry you were, it didn't take that much longer for you to finish eating and while you cleared up the dishes, James went and put Liana down in her bed and then gathered his things so he could give you some time alone.

“I’ll see you around, James. Thanks for coming to help today,” you gave him a big hug and he held you tight in that way he would when he wanted to say something, but knew it should probably wait.

“Anytime,” he gave you an additional squeeze. “You’re gonna be a great mom. You are a great mom already. I’m really happy for you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say any words in response so you just nodded your head and held onto him tighter. After a moment he pulled away and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Love you, now go get some sleep.”

“You’ve got it Dr. Wilson,” you saluted him.

You walked him out of the door and after closing it shut behind him you took a deep breath. It was going to be hard, but you could do it.

—

A few months later…

“Don’t you have a life?” you yawned, bouncing Liana in your arms to try and get her to fall asleep.

“I mean I went bowling with House last night and I consistently stay late at work, and that’s about it, so no,” James shook his head.

“So you figured that coming and bothering me is a good use of your spare time.”

“I wouldn’t call it bothering,” James gave you a look. “I made you dinner.”

“Yeah you did, and unfortunately it was really good too,” you sighed. “So you just want to hang out with me and Liana?”

“Yeah, is that so hard to believe?”

“A little considering I always have baby vomit on me now,” you chuckled.

“It brings out your eyes,” he teased. “Here, why don’t I take her.”

“Last time I agreed to that you riled her up, which I didn’t think was possible for a three month old,” you eyed him skeptically.

“I promise I’ll put her to sleep,” he crossed his heart.

“Wrong religion, James,” you shook your head and he laughed.

“Do you want me to swear on the Torah?”

“It would help,” you nodded.

“Alright, I swear on the Torah that I won’t rile her up.”

You reluctantly passed Liana over to James and scoffed when she almost immediately stopped fussing.

“See,” he smiled and kissed her small nose while he rocked her gently, making her eyes slowly close as she fell asleep.

“You two are in kahoots. She’s fine whenever you’re not around, but when you are it’s like she knows she can get passed off to you if she’s fussy enough,” you laughed a little. “It’s cute though, I like how much she likes you.”

“Me too, why do you think I keep coming here?”

“So you came to visit, what do you want to do?” you asked. “My plans were to clean the kitchen and do laundry, so not much more exciting than sitting around at home.”

“Why don’t you let me put her down then we can tackle the kitchen together. I mean I did make half of the mess there.”

“I won’t argue with you there,” you sighed and put your hands on your hips. “Okay, I’m gonna throw a load in before you put her down.”

It took a little bit for James to be confident Liana was fully asleep before putting her down in her cot and then meeting you again in the kitchen where you were packing up leftovers from dinner.

“Have you had many visitors?” James asked.

“Well, I do have this one guy that keeps coming around, about this tall, practicing oncology, I think he’s a little bit obsessed with me,” you joked.

“Aside from me,” he shook his head and went over to the dishes.

“Yeah, a few. My parents were here for a bit while you were out of town and then some of my friends have come around to help with a few things here and there and to meet Liana.”

“Nice.”

“You sound like you want to say something,” you looked back at him.

“It’s not too much having me over all the time, is it?”

“No, not at all,” you shook your head. “You know me, I’d tell you if it was.”

“Because I really do like spending time with you both. It’s a lot nicer than going to an empty house at the end of the day,” he admitted. “So if you don’t mind, maybe I can keep bothering you and making a mess in your kitchen.”

“I think that would be okay,” you smiled.

You cleaned in silence for a bit before James began asking a few questions about Liana.

“She had an appointment with her pediatrician recently, right? Everything went okay?”

“Yeah, fit as a fiddle,” you sighed. “Thank goodness.”

“Have you decided if you’re gonna use formula yet? Or will you wait it out?”

“I was actually going to ask you about this, whenever I ask anyone I think has an opinion I’d like to hear they say I need to make the decision myself and then everyone I don’t want to hear from seems to have something to say,” you chuckled. “What do you think? As a doctor?”

“I mean, if I were in your situation I might wait a bit longer, she’s still pretty young and there’s no real reason to switch over yet. I think a lot of people start maybe around 12 months and from what I’ve seen that works well,” he shrugged.

“Thanks for giving me a straight answer,” you placed a hand on his arm. “I also don’t know if I should try and take leave from work or hire a nanny, but I think I probably have to figure that one out myself.”

“Do you have enough savings to take the time off?” he asked.

“I get a few more months paid leave from the company I work for since I have seniority, but after that I have to figure out what to do. I think I have enough saved to last me some time, but I’m going to have to go back eventually.”

James hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you wanna come up with solutions tonight or relax now that we’ve finished cleaning?” he asked, motioning his head to the kitchen that was definitely in better shape than before.

“Let’s watch a movie or something, I don’t think I’ve turned the TV on since Liana was born. I’ll fold the laundry when it’s done while we watch,” you said. “I’ll figure something out later.”

“We should watch, oh jeez what’s that thing we started ages ago and never finished?”

“The really bad soap?” you asked and he nodded, “Oh yes, we’re definitely watching that.”

“Okay, you go get settled, I’m gonna make some tea, do you want some?”

“Sure, just make me whatever you’re having,” you nodded and grabbed the remote from under the pile of blankets on the couch, turning on the TV and trying to find the episodes you had recorded to watch later.

By the time James had finished making the tea, you had found the show and were just about to start it.

“Here,” James passed you the mug. “So what was the last thing that happened?”

“I think the main guy was sleeping with the head nurse, right and then there was the whole thing with her being engaged to the other surgeon and then her sister was in a coma?”

“Wait, I thought the surgeon she was engaged to was sleeping with one of his patients?”

“He was,” you nodded. “It was a whole thing.”

“Alright, just start it, I’m sure I’ll remember more as we watch.”

James was very sorely mistaken, if anything he’d gotten more confused and you were absolutely no help because nothing was making sense anymore.

“What is up with the writing?” you asked. “Like did they just completely forget they had a whole storyline dedicated to this huge procedure and now they’re acting like nothing happened.”

“Don’t get me started, that guy was doing surgery without gloves, like that doesn’t even take much effort to get right. You’d think it was common sense,” James added.

“Maybe we should turn it off,” you looked over at your friend, “it’s getting us all riled up.”

James pressed his lips together, “I know, but I kind of want to find out who’s the father of Paula’s baby.”

You leaned back into the couch, you had managed to fold all the laundry, and it was still a little too early to go to sleep, you supposed a few more episodes couldn’t hurt.

“If I fall asleep, just lock up on your way out, okay?” you looked over at him and he nodded as you started the next episode.

Just as you predicted, about halfway through the second episode you began to drift off, and as soon as James noticed, he stopped the episode already having decided you could finish it together another time.

He shifted you slightly so you were lying down on the couch instead of in the uncomfortable position you were in before, placing a blanket over top of you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, wishing you a good night before going to check on Liana, and after seeing she was sleeping soundly and the baby monitor was on, he saw himself out, taking your spare key from where it was hidden on the porch and locking the door.

—

“How’s my girl doing?” James grinned, scooping Liana out of your arms. “I haven’t seen you in so long,” he kissed her nose making her giggle.

“James, you were here two days ago,” you laughed.

“And it feels like an eternity.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “She’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

“I don’t mind,” he shrugged. “Just as long as we get to spend time together.”

“Yeah, well she hasn’t napped yet so it can wait until after that,” you reached to take her back but James insisted he could put her to sleep. “James, you just got off work are you sure you don’t want to eat something or take a break for a bit?”

“This is like a break for me,” he assured you.

“Okay, I’m gonna make a salad, come out and eat when you’re done.”

James nodded and went off to the bedroom so he could sit on the armchair there and coax her to sleep.

Usually he didn’t need more than twenty minutes to half an hour to put her down, so when you were hitting the forty-five minute mark you wondered if Liana was being fussy, so you went to check in on them, instead seeing James fast asleep on the armchair with Liana snuggled against his chest.

You bit back a big smile and went to go grab your camera quickly, and quietly snapped a shot of the two of them.

Not wanting to wake either of them, you made your way back to the kitchen, shutting the door of the room behind you to make sure the sound didn’t travel.

Figuring it might be a while before James came back out, you decided to eat your dinner, that way you could take Liana from him when they woke up so he could get something to eat too.

As you had predicted, James exited the room about an hour later, Liana now awake and hungry for her own dinner.

“Want me to take her now?” you teased and he rolled his eyes while you took your baby from him, sitting on the couch to feed her while he grabbed himself something to eat. “You had a good nap?”

“Great actually, I think I needed it. Been pulling a lot of late nights at the office getting paperwork done,” he admitted. “I’m surprised you didn’t wake me.”

“You looked comfortable, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Well, I appreciate it cause I needed the sleep,” he sighed and came and sat next to you while he began to eat his dinner.

“James, I…I tried to talk to him the other week,” you said, knowing he would be able to connect the dots back to your ex. “I’d been meaning to tell you, it just slipped my mind I guess.”

“You did…what did he say?”

“God, I’m gonna start crying again,” you let out a humourless chuckle and lifted a hand to wipe away the tears beginning to form in your eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he said. What matters is that it was probably good that we broke up. He wouldn’t have been a good father or husband for that matter when it came down to it.”

“I’m proud of you for reaching out anyways. It takes a lot of guts to do that after someone leaves you.”

You nodded your head, “I’m just…I know I said you should keep coming here because you want to, but I really do like having you around. It just makes it seem simpler. Easier,” you looked over at him. “You’re a good friend Jamie, I love you.”

“Love you too,” he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, watching as your attention turned back to your daughter as she finished feeding.

You held her just like that in your arms for a little while longer, watching as she reached out for your fingers and then tried to go even further to grab James. Clearly her attention was addictive because he was ready to put his food down to help burp her, but you made a teasing remark about him hogging her and that he needed to eat his food so you’d take care of it and he could have her when he was done.

Eventually, you traded Liana for James’ dishes and went to load the dishwasher while he kept her occupied, letting her gnaw on his tie while making all sorts of nonsensical baby noises that James took as conversation starters.

It was funny to watch the two have what looked like a full blown conversation and you were sure James had been reading some parenting magazine or another that spoke of helping babies develop linguistic abilities.

“Hey James,” you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want a key?”

“A key to what?” he looked at you confused.

“The house,” you said. “I just thought since you’re here all the time you can come and go whenever you want and if you forget something and I’m out you can come get it yourself.”

“A key,” he thought about it. “This feels like a big milestone moment.”

“I mean I already have the key to your place, but that was because you refused to have anyone look after you after you got your wisdom teeth removed.”

“Wait, you have my key?”

“Yeah, I just took yours and had it copied,” you shrugged.

“I feel like I should be a bit more concerned about this, but I’m not.”

“It’s because you’re friends with House, you’re used to it,” you waved him off.

“Liana, did you know your mom’s a thief?” he looked down at the baby in his arms and you rolled your eyes.

“Do you want the key or not?”

“I’ll take it, and I guess you can keep mine, but I’m never there anyways.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just use it if I need to steal your social insurance card to commit identity theft.”

“Liana banana, your mom’s being very silly tonight,” James picked her up and held her out in front of him before bringing her down to press a few kisses to her face, making her giggle. “It’s okay, we still love mommy even though she’s silly, right?”

“You better,” you flicked his shoulder as you walked by after grabbing an ice cream sandwich from the freezer.

“Hey, I’ve got something in my bag I forgot to give you, do you mind bringing it over here?” James asked, motioning to the briefcase on the armchair closest to the front door.

You nodded your head and stood up again to grab it and pass it to him. He rummaged through it with one hand while still holding Liana before passing you what looked like a receipt.

“Uh thanks?” you looked a little confused.

“Read what it’s for,” James chuckled. “They’ll get delivered next week.”

“James,” you put the receipt down. “You didn’t.”

“You’ve been talking about it for four months, I had to do something,” he shrugged. “And I didn’t get you anything for your baby shower.”

“Because you planned it,” you laughed. “Seriously this is a lot. I don’t know if I can accept this.”

“Just think of it this way. I’m here all the time, we like to go out with Liana together and it’s a great stroller with good safety ratings.”

“Okay sure you’ll use that, but the cot too?”

“The one you have in there’s been recalled, I was just doing you a favour,” he said.

You chuckled a little, pressing your lips together. “Liana, my darling, we are very spoiled.”

“I’ll come over when it gets delivered and help set it up,” James said.

“I still don’t know what to say, James, this is…really generous of you.”

“Believe me, right now nothing makes me happier, and I mean that,” he reached out a hand to you and you took it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

As promised, the next week James was back at your home to help set up the stroller and the cot and you figured it would be the right time to pull out that camcorder your father had gotten you to help record some memories you were making with Liana.

“Hey, James wanna tell the camera what you’re doing?”

“Wondering why I didn’t get a degree in engineering apparently.” he mumbled while hunched over some instructions, a pencil behind his ear and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What does your assistant think?” you moved the camera over to Liana, sitting in a rocking seat that was propped up next to James.

“That this video isn’t going to be very good for my image in the future. This stuff is worse than IKEA,” he scratched the back of his head.

“You’re doing great,” you assured him and came to give him an encouraging side hug. “Alright, let me stop this video and we can try and tackle it together.”

You put the camera down on the bed and looked over the instructions with James, having a bit of an easier time piecing things together compared to him, so in the end you were put on deciphering the instructions while he assembled the cot.

An embarrassing amount of time later, the cot was completely assembled (only after having to disassemble it all the first time because there was one piece left over and you had no idea what step you had missed using it), and you carefully placed Liana inside to see how it would hold up.

“You know they say you can be proud of something you built with your own two hands, but I’m afraid this is going to fall apart,” James said.

“We followed the instructions really carefully, it should be fine,” you said, trying to convince yourself. “And Liana looks comfortable in there, look at her she’s giggling.”

“I think that’s because we look like we’ve been building a house or something,” he looked between you, seeing your dirty clothes and messed up hair.

“Who knew putting together a cot would be so labour intensive,” you chuckled. “I think we can safely say we deserve some takeout. What do you want?”

“Anything, I’m starving,” James sat down on the edge of the bed. “You think this will help her sleep a little better?”

“Let’s hope so,” you rubbed your temples. “You coming?” you asked, taking Liana out of the cot and carrying her out towards the door.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” he nodded and you left him in the room, staring at the wooden baby’s bed in front of him. It was a simple thing you had both made together, but for James, it was starting to feel like so much more than just that.

You built a cot, but what did building a cot mean? What did it mean that he bought it for you without a second question or a moment’s hesitation? What did it mean that he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face every single time he stepped into this house?

It probably meant a lot of things, but at the moment, to James, it felt like he had a family and he’d hold onto that for as long as he was able to.

—

As much as you wished it could be, not every day was easy. Today was one of those days at the end of a long week and you wanted nothing more than to collapse and call it quits.

Something was wrong with Liana, she was never this fussy, but all the doctors would just repeat the same thing over and over again.

She has colic.

You have a colic-y baby.

Your baby has colic. She’s going to be fine.

She didn’t sound fine. Not when she would cry and cry and you didn’t know what was happening or how to make her feel better. It made your heart feel tight and constricted especially when all you could do was bounce and rock her in hopes that it might soothe whatever was going on inside her.

You were so focused on the sounds of the crying baby you didn’t hear the door unlock as James entered the house. After putting down his bags, he followed the sound of the crying before finding you in the rocking chair in your room, gently hushing Liana to try and coax her back to sleep.

“James,” you tried to stand up when you noticed he was there, but he rushed over to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder and encouraging you to sit back down. “I’m afraid we’re not really having a fun day today. You might want to just go home and rest,” you suggested.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“James, I’m serious I-,”

“Hey,” he said gently, quieting you as a hand came to hold your cheek. “Talk to me, mom. What’s happening?”

You pressed your lips together and shook your head.

“I don’t know,” you let the tears spill from your eyes, just as they were for Liana, but you basked in the comfort James’ simple action offered. “She just keeps crying and I don’t know what’s wrong. T-They kept saying she has colic, but this isn’t colic, James.”

He nodded his head and wiped away your tears while trying to think of a solution to the problem in front of you.

“I have an idea, just give me a second, I’ll be right back.”

James went off to the kitchen and came back with a bit of a white powder on his finger. He helped you sit Liana up before getting her to eat a little bit of it.

“What is that?”

“Just baking soda. I saw this in a few babies. Doctors think it’s colic, but it’s reflux. Have you been eating anything different from usual?” he asked.

“Me?”

“Yeah, it might be something she’s allergic to getting in the breast milk,” he explained while rubbing Liana’s back. “Here let me take her so you can have a break. Go to the kitchen, get some water and write down a list of what you’ve been eating recently and we’ll go over it and see if we can find anything that lines up with her fussiness.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll survive,” he nodded.

You passed over your baby to him and made your way out of the room, following James’ suggestion and noticing how with a little bit of time her crying had quieted down and instead was replaced by softer sniffles and a much nicer sound. It drew you away from the list you were leaning over and back to the door of the bedroom where you leaned in the frame and watched and listened while James, with his back turned to you, sang a soft lullaby to Liana.

I love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.

Over and over like a prayer until Liana’s sniffles had faded and there was only silence.

He carefully put her back in her bed, waiting a few moments to make sure she was really sleeping, before turning back and seeing you standing in the doorway.

When he made his way up to you, you reached out and pulled him into as tight of a hug as you’d ever given him. You held onto the sleeves of your shirt while one arm came under his and across his back with the other around his neck, holding him as close to you as you possibly could.

“You okay?” James asked and you nodded your head, silently while a few more tears streamed down your face.

“I will be.”

“I-,” James faltered for a moment, but he said it anyway. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Three words he had said so many times, that had meant a particular thing when he said them to you, but now he couldn’t help but feel like they meant something a little different.

You both stayed like that a moment longer before you pulled apart, wiping away your tears and going back to your list to see if James’ theory could be correct.

“Maybe try cutting these ones out of your diet,” he suggested. “See if she gets any better and if not call me and I’ll get her an appointment with one of the pediatricians at the hospital.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I just don’t get why they kept saying colic like is that just some doctor term for I don’t know what’s wrong, but your baby is fussy?”

“I don’t know,” James shook his head, “but don’t ever let anyone bully you into not trusting your gut. She’s your daughter and you know her best.”

“You seem to know her pretty well too. You took one look at her and managed to help her when I couldn’t,” you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Coincidence,” he patted your shoulder.

“Give yourself a little credit. You’re with her a lot too, it’s part of why I trust your judgement so much when it comes to her. I know you’re not just going to tell me some medical mumbo jumbo you…you’re with her, you see how she is, you know.”

“I don’t know how you managed to hold it together so well,” James said. “I was in there with her for twenty minutes and I wanted to cry right with her.”

“It’s so hard,” you shook your head. “You can tell she’s uncomfortable, that something’s wrong, but she can’t tell you what.”

James nodded his head, “Before you know it she’ll be walking and talking and hopefully it’ll be a lot easier to understand what she needs.”

“It’s hard to imagine that,” you chuckled. “She is growing so fast though.”

“And you’re doing a great job,” James wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you took a deep breath. You wanted to correct him and say ‘we’re doing a great job’, but everything about this felt so delicate. It wasn’t his responsibility to parent Liana and you didn’t want to pressure him into thinking that it had become that, but regardless you felt like he’d been around so much it would be wrong to give yourself full credit for everything.

“It takes a village,” you settled on saying, extending your arm so it was wrapped around him as well. “Speaking of a village, I need to hire a nanny.”

“So you’re going to go back to work?” he asked and you nodded.

“Just part time for now. Pay is good enough. I should be fine with that for a while.”

“Good,” James nodded. “Do you need help going through resumes?”

“Nah, Janine is taking care of that for me, her boyfriend works with the police so free background checks. She’s gonna send me a short list and then I’ll interview them.”

You looked up at James and chuckled,

“You seem surprised.”

“I didn’t know you outsourced to other people too,” he teased.

“Are you jealous, Jamie?” you tickled his sides a little bit. “Come on, you know you’re my number one. Can you seriously tell me you could have gotten police-level background checks on nannies?”

“I could have tried.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m gonna save you from this job so you can help me with other stuff, okay?” you turned him around and patted his chest. “I love you, James, but you can’t do it all. I have to look out for you too.”

“You don’t have to look after me,” he assured you. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, I can take care of myself.”

“James, that’s the whole point of this,” you pointed between you. “I’m not about to let it be one-sided.”

“Is that why you keep packing me lunches?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “And it's kind of fun leaving you little notes.”

“House thinks I’m seeing someone because of what you put in the last one. He steals my food, you know.”

“I’ll just pack double next time,” you laughed.

James smiled at the sound of your laughter, savouring the moment of levity he was able to bring you after a long and hard few days.

You looked back up at him once your laughter had died down and filled with a quiet sense of gratitude, you could help but lean into his side, sighing contentedly and it made you feel warm to the touch when his arm wrapped around you and pulled you in closer.

Things may not have been simple or easy, but at least they felt right.

—

James was just about to leave his office to get some food in the cafeteria when he heard the phone ring, keeping him seated at his desk so he could answer.

“Hello, Oncology Department. Dr. James Wilson speaking.”

“James, it’s me,” you said quickly, almost like you were in a hurry.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing dire,” you sighed. “My nanny got sick and my backup nanny is out of town and I have this huge meeting at work I cannot miss, but I-I don’t have anyone to look after Liana. I hate to ask this, you know I wouldn’t bug you unless it was a real emergency, but can I bring her by? Just for two maybe three hours tops. Then I’ll come grab her and she can be in my office with me for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, of course, bring her over,” James nodded. “I have a few patient consults today, but nothing too strenuous or contagious for a small baby.”

“James, are you sure? I feel really bad asking-,”

“It’s fine. Today was going to be boring anyway, I could use some Liana time to spice things up.”

“James, I love you, you’re a lifesaver,” you breathed a sigh of relief. “I owe you one okay? Cash it in whenever.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna go grab a quick bite to eat. I’ll meet you in my office when you come.”

“Great, see you then.”

You both hung up and when James came back upstairs you were just arriving at his office with Liana strapped in her car seat and a bag slung around your shoulder.

“Okay, I’ve got snacks, and a carrier, and her toys, and-,”

“Goodness, take a breath,” James chuckled. “We’re gonna be fine, I’ve looked after her before.”

“I know, I know. I’m just nervous about this meeting and rushing around to get everything prepped and then the nannies fell through,” you took a deep breath to try and slow your heart down and James put a hand on your shoulder assuring you everything was going to be alright.

“You’re gonna kill it at that meeting, alright?” he pulled you in for a quick hug.

“Thanks again, I seriously appreciate and love you and your big fat heart.”

“Thanks, I think,” he chuckled again. “I love you too.”

You kissed your hand and tapped it on his cheek before doing the same for Liana who smiled and James took a moment to stare out the door and watch you as you left the room, still feeling his heart beating a little faster after having said I love you.

Ever since the day he came over when Liana was having a hard time, his heart would race and his palms would get sweaty every time he’d say those three words, knowing he meant it in a different way than he had been saying it all these years.

“Liana banana, what am I gonna do,” James sighed and bent down so he was at eye level with her. “Do you think your mom knows?”

Liana babbled a response.

“Me neither,” he sighed. “It’s okay though, cause we’re gonna have a fun day right?”

He unclipped her from the seat after fastening the baby carrier to his back to begin with before propping her up and clipping her inside.

Once he was content with that, he checked the time and noticed he was almost late for a meeting with a patient who was staying at the hospital for treatment.

James made his way down the halls, knowing not many would question him about the baby on his back, that was aside from his boss who now seemed to be walking directly towards him.

He quickly took a detour into an empty room and thinking he lost her, let out a breath only to be startled when the door opened and Cuddy was standing in front of him.

“Wilson,” she started.

“Mhmm.”

“What’s on your back?” she asked, trying to get a better look, but James simply turned around.

“Oh it’s just a backpack,” he lied, only to be immediately ratted out by Liana’s nonsensical sounds.

“You have a talking backpack?” Cuddy looked at him skeptically.

“No, it’s a tumour. I’m dying,” he lied again, even more poorly than before.

Cuddy sighed, “Are we gonna get sued for it?”

James pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“Will someone get mad at you for it?”

He shook his head again.

“Is House involved?”

A third time.

“Okay,” she nodded slowly. “I won’t question your…talking backpack tumour.”

James nodded his head and Cuddy left the room which hopefully meant he was in the clear for the rest of the day.

Liana had other ideas and decided she didn’t like being in the carrier on his back anymore and began to cry. James wondered what was different, he’d done this with her before, but perhaps it was the new environment and she just wanted to be where she could see him.

So after some maneuvering, he changed the positioning of the carrier and put Liana back inside and she seemed much more relaxed afterwards.

When he got to his patient he apologized for being late, but they were more focused on the child that James had yet to introduce.

“Sorry, I’m a little all over the place right now,” he chuckled. “This is Liana, she’s going to be joining us today.”

“Is she your daughter?” he asked, seeing the way James smiled and held her when he introduced her.

“No,” James shook his head. “She’s the daughter of one of my close friends. I’m just doing her a favour today.”

“Either way, it’s always nice to see someone smiling and happy around here.”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” James nodded.

“How old is she?”

“Six months as of two weeks ago.”

“They grow fast, don’t they?”

James smiled and nodded, “They sure do.”

They continued their consult, and before long James wrapped things up and headed back to his office to meet with another patient.

This time around he was feeding and burping Liana throughout the meeting and it felt so much like second nature to him, it didn’t take him away at all from the questions the patient was asking, and much like he expected, having a baby in the room was a nice distraction from the heavy subject matter.

He got through the next few patients with ease, and he felt lucky that House only decided to come in after all his meetings were over.

“Is that a baby?” House squinted, looking at Liana who was calmly playing with a toy in James’ lap.

“No, it’s an alien,” he deadpanned and House ignored his comment.

“Why do you have a baby? That must be breaking some hospital rule.”

“Since when do you care about rules?”

“Cause rules are there to protect us,” House said sarcastically. “Is this the one you spend all your free time with?”

“Her name is Liana,” James said while standing up and moving to put her in her car seat for a moment. “House, I’m gonna ask you to do something and I’m going to trust that you won’t blow this up in my face.”

“Go on.”

“I need to use the washroom, but you’ve seen the way they get cleaned here, I don’t want to bring Li with me,” he said. “Can you watch her for five minutes? You don’t even have to do anything, just stare at her in the carrier.”

House thought about it for a moment before eventually agreeing, James completely oblivious to his friend’s ulterior motive.

House first sat across from her, turning her car seat around on the table so it was facing him. They stared at each other for a few moments before House stood up and grabbed a picture from one of James’ shelves, sitting back down in front of her.

“You’re probably too young to do this, but never too young to learn, right?”

Liana had no response.

“You see this guy?” House pointed to James in the photo. “He’s dada, right?”

House continued to prompt her, even though he knew she was too young to speak, thinking this would make a great prank if he played his cards right.

House continued to go back and forth with Liana between her babbles, until he heard James begin to open the door of the office.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Perfect,” House nodded. “Your daughter’s an angel.”

James frowned, unable to tell if House was being sarcastic or not, but he was quickly distracted by the frame in his hand.

“Why do you have that picture?” James came closer and took it from him.

“Oh, just trying to pass the time with a story.”

“The story of what exactly? This is just a picture of me with my parents.”

“I don’t know I made something up, she’s a baby, she won’t remember,” House insisted before leaving the office before James could ask any more questions.

A little confused by the encounter, he made his way over to Liana who was reaching out for him.

He checked the time, seeing as your meeting should probably have been over by then and decided to give you a call.

“Hey, I was just about to come and pick Liana up,” you said.

“Yeah, about that, do you just want to leave her with me for the rest of the day?” he asked. “She’s been really good and honestly I think the patients have been loving seeing a baby around.”

“James, it’s fine, my meeting is over. I can come get her,” you said.

James pressed his lips together before gathering the nerve to say what he was going to say.

“I actually would really like it if she could stay with me,” he said. “If you’re okay with it.”

You paused, “This isn’t just some round about way for you to find a way to give me a break?” you asked.

“No, I’m really happy she’s here. I was going to come over after work anyways.”

“You still have the car seat hookup in your car?” you asked and he confirmed. “Okay, call me if you need anything, Jamie.”

“I will, and thank you.”

“Just don’t break her, okay, she’s not replaceable,” you teased.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece,” James chuckled. “We’ll be fine, right Li?”

James gave her a little tickle so that you could hear her laugh in response and you couldn't help but smile before saying goodbye and feeling more at ease leaving her with James than you ever had leaving her with a babysitter.

—

It always felt interesting coming back to Princeton-Plainsboro after you had given birth to Liana. It brought back a lot of memories, both good and maybe not so great of your pregnancy, but recently you and Liana had been visiting a little more often to have lunch with James when you weren’t working.

Today wasn’t one of those days, you were actually just on your way back home after running a few errands and since you were in the area you thought you might stop in and talk to James about that evening.

When you went by his office you peeked inside and noticed he wasn’t there and before you could decide the best course of action, you heard a semi familiar voice behind you.

“You looking for Wilson?”

You turned around and saw House standing in front of you.

“Yeah, actually. Do you know where he is?”

“I think he just went to Cuddy’s office,” he said.

“Alright, I’ll head back downstairs then,” you smiled and were about to haul Liana’s car seat with you, but House stopped you.

“If you want I can look after her in my office,” he said.

“Really?” you seemed a little surprised from the offer, but figured it couldn’t be too bad to leave her with him for five minutes.

“Sure,” House nodded, making it seem like it was no big deal, when really he had already pocketed a picture of James and was looking for another opportunity to continue his prank.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” you said while walking over to his office and putting her car seat on the main table before walking down the hallways and over to the elevator to go and find James, but just to your luck, he was coming out just as you had planned to enter. “Hey, I was looking for you,” you smiled.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were coming, did we make plans?” he asked, worried he’d forgotten about something.

“No, I was just in the area and, well my mom and dad are coming over for dinner tonight, I was wondering if you wanted to join us.”

“Dinner sounds nice,” James nodded. “And I haven’t seen your parents in a while, I just seem to miss them every time they come into town.”

“Yeah, that’s why I thought I’d ask, also maybe as a warning in case you wanted to get as far away as you could,” you chuckled.

“Come on, they’re not that bad,” he nudged you.

“Most of the time, but then again, you’re not their child.”

“Wait, where’s Liana?” James asked. “With a sitter at home?”

“No, I left her with House.”

James’ eyes went wide, “You left her with House?”

“Yeah, what’s the big deal?” you chuckled as James began to walk towards House’s office to make sure he wasn’t up to one of his many schemes. “James he offered!” you called back and that only made him walk faster.

It took you a minute to catch up with him, but by that time he was already interrogating House who was simply sitting in front of Liana.

“Can't I offer to look after my friend’s friend’s baby?” House asked.

“Usually someone could, but when that person is you you may see why I think you have some ulterior motive.”

“James what’s going on?” you asked, coming closer to House. “Liana’s fine, I don’t know why you’re being so dramatic.”

“Yeah, listen to single mom over here,” he pointed to you.

James backed off if only for your sake, but he still kept a close eye on House as you picked up Liana’s car seat and told James you’d see him after his shift was over.

He nodded his head and you exchanged a kiss on the cheek before heading out.

“You’re really telling me you’re not getting some of that on the side?” House asked.

“House, drop it,” James was unamused. “I know you’re up to something, I just don’t know what.”

“I guess you’re just going to have to wait and find out,” House shrugged. “In the meantime may I suggest you go get your freak on with the mom? You know she probably hasn’t slept with anyone since that kid was conceived, I’m sure you’d have an easy time convincing her.”

“Shut up, House,” James rolled his eyes and left the office before he could suggest anything more obscene.

He was thankful when the end of his shift came, and before heading to your place he made a stop at the store to buy some flowers and dessert to bring over.

By this point, it was such a habit, he never knocked, just opened the door with his key and announced his presence to whoever was in the house.

“Hey Liana, look who’s here,” you smiled and pointed to James while Liana was being held by your mother.

Liana became very excited at the sight of him and he quickly put down the things he brought on the table before saying his greetings and giving special attention to Liana by means of a kiss on her nose and caress of her face.

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked. “Mom and dad brought some fancy-looking sparkling fruit juice.”

“I could go for some of that,” James nodded. “How have you guys been, I missed you the last time you were in town.”

“We’ve been good,” your dad nodded.

“Unfortunately our granddaughter doesn’t come to visit us very much,” your mom gave you a bit of a look and you rolled your eyes.

“Mom, you guys are retired, I have a job, why don’t we keep this ‘you visit me’ arrangement a while longer until my life sorts itself out a bit more.”

“She’s not wrong, honey,” your dad came and patted his wife’s shoulder.

“I know, I just wish we got to see Liana more. We should come down more often.”

“What about you, James, anything new in your life?”

James looked over at you before shaking his head.

“No, still working at the same place still…”

“Trying to find the right person,” you filled in for him, placing a hand on his shoulder and handing him his drink.

“Yeah,” he nodded with a soft smile and couldn’t help but laugh a little internally at the irony. Maybe the right person had been there all along, the person he’d never once pulled away from, the person he let take care of him, the person who he’d realized he’d most definitely fallen in love with, but risking things between you was out of the question so he would have to be content with the way things were.

“You’re the head of your department, right?” your mom asked and James nodded. “Wow, that’s quite something, your parents must be proud of you.”

“Yes, it never fails to come up in conversation with my mother,” he chuckled.

Liana began to fuss a little bit in her grandmother’s arms and after a few failed attempts at calming her down James offered to take over.

“Are you sure, honey?” she asked. “She gets a bit cranky and it’s hard to calm her down.”

“Don’t worry mom, James is an expert,” you assured her.

James nodded and confirmed he was sure before gently bouncing Liana until she stopped crying and wiping away whatever tears of hers were remaining.

“She seems very attached to you,” your dad remarked and James looked down at Liana who now had her head resting against his chest.

“The feeling’s quite mutual,” James chuckled. “Does she need to be fed?” he asked you.

“Yeah we’re probably getting close to that time now, I’ll warm up the bottle. Maybe I can feed her and you can deal with the sauce on the stove, it’s missing something and I can’t place it.”

“Sure,” James nodded and waited for you to heat up Liana’s bottle before passing her over and taking a turn at the stove.

Your parents watched your interactions curiously and shared a few looks between themselves, but chose to say nothing. They’d known James since you were both nineteen and a lot of things had happened since then, but a lot of time had passed too. It was interesting how your comfort with each other in friendship had so naturally extended itself in this way that you were practically functioning as a family whether you noticed it, or maybe deliberately chose to ignore it.

After you fed Liana and burped her, she was quick to fall asleep and you placed her in her cot in your room before joining James and your parents in the kitchen where they were bringing things to the dining room to lay them out on the table.

“This looks really delicious sweetheart, thank you for making dinner,” your dad said. “And you too James for taking over there in the home stretch.”

“For all we know it could have tasted terrible before he came in so he can take the credit for that,” you chuckled.

“No, I gave it a taste before adding anything. It just needed a little something sour to balance some things out, otherwise it was perfect,” he assured you.

Dinner with your parents was mostly small talk. They shared a little about some of your relatives they had recently spoken to or visited and asked James how his family was doing and they left fairly early to start the drive back home.

“I’ll load the dishes you put away the leftovers?” James yawned and you chuckled.

“How about I do both since I had a day off and you go and lay down for a bit,” you suggested.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about I’m fine,” James waved his hand but yawned again.

“Go to sleep, James. That’s not a suggestion,” you walked up to him. “My ex left some sweatpants here you can change into those and take off this button up,” you tugged at his shirt.

James pressed his lips together and nodded his head, before heading over to the bedroom and quietly getting changed before climbing into bed and not fighting the sleep that came.

He initially wasn’t sure how much later it was when he woke up, but by the looks of it much too late to go come considering you were next to him, despite being groggy, he had a million and one things crossing his mind, but all of those were thrown out when he heard Liana begin to cry.

You shifted next to him, waking up to go and take care of it, but James put an arm on your shoulder.

“I’ve got it, go back to sleep,” he assured you.

You were too tired to argue with him and let your head hit the pillow again while he stood up and picked Liana up from her crib, heading out to the kitchen so he could heat up a bottle for her before coming back and sitting in the chair to feed her.

You watched the scene in front of you and you felt yourself wanting to memorize every detail. How he held her, the quiet things he whispered, the way she curled into his arms while he stood up and rocked her back to sleep.

When he came back to the bed he noticed you were awake and he let out a soft chuckle and you smiled looking up at him with his messy hair. Suddenly you were nineteen again and banging on the door of cabin 3 trying to wake your fellow counsellor to come and deal with an emergency. To you he looked the same as he did all those years ago.

“I told you to go back to sleep.”

“Not everyone can fall asleep instantly,” you yawned with a chuckle.

“You didn’t wake me up to leave,” he said quietly, his head resting on his hand that propped him up.

“You always look so peaceful when you sleep, I feel evil whenever I have to wake you up,” you remarked, but behind your eyes if he could see through the darkness of the room, he would have seen them saying something else. That you wanted him to stay, you didn’t want to wake him up because you wanted to wake up next to him. “You don’t mind do you?”

“That you’re making me do the walk of shame in the morning?” James teased and shook his head.

“Just shut up and go back to sleep, Jamie,” you yawned with a chuckle.

He moved so he was laying down on his back with an arm behind his head and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Maybe he could feel you staring because he reached his other arm out and pulled you closer and you moved with him until your head rested against his chest, your arm draped over top of him.

He gave you a gentle squeeze with the arm that was wrapped around you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight, Jamie,” you mumbled into his shirt.

You couldn’t see how he looked down and smiled at you after you said that, all that filled your ears was a quiet, “Goodnight.”

—

“I haven’t seen you in a few days, how have you been?”

James sat on the carpet of the living room, playing with Liana who was crawling around him while you brought over two mugs of tea so you could chat while you entertained the growing baby.

“Good for the most part, just had a patient who wasn’t doing so great so I spent some extra time at the hospital to keep an eye on things. Not to mention House has been bugging me to go out and it’s been a while so I figured what’s the harm.”

“He got you plastered and you made a fool of yourself, didn’t he?” you asked and James nodded while you laughed. “Liana, did James go out with House and act like an idiot?” you tickled the ten month old and she giggled before coming closer to you, tapping on your legs with her hands.

“Don’t listen to your mama, Li, she’s trying to-,”

“Mama,” Liana repeated after James had spoken and you both stopped dead in your tracks.

You looked over at James and his smile was just as wide as yours before you picked Liana up and smothered her with kisses.

“Liana, look at you! You said your first word!”

“Good job, Liana banana,” James grinned and gave her cheek a little pinch which made her reach out to him and say,

“Dada.”

You both had a similar reaction to what happened moments ago, only this time it was pure shock. Maybe you had misheard her, but when she repeated herself, James could feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

“I-I don’t know where she learnt that from,” he told you. “I swear I didn’t teach her that.”

It took a minute for the shock to fade away for you, but once it did you tried to assure James that it was okay.

“I believe you,” you said. “I-I don’t know where she picked it up from, but it’s okay.”

James chewed on his lip, it wasn’t okay though because he wanted nothing more than to hear Liana say that again.

“It’s not though,” James said softly. “I love her, but I’m not her dad. That’s not fair to her or to you.”

“Jamie,” you pleaded with him, but he still seemed stuck on something.

“I’m really sorry,” he apologized again. “I feel like I ruined a special moment.”

“I’m trying to tell you it really doesn’t matter,” you assured him, you could see it in his eyes, he wanted to leave, to let you have time alone, but you didn’t want to be alone, you wanted him to stay with you. “Please…please stay.”

James reached out his hand to hold yours and was about to give you his answer when his pager went off.

Your heart clenched and you watched as he read the message and sighed, standing up because he was needed again at the hospital.

“Your patient?” you asked, picking Liana up and standing next to him.

He nodded his head, “They were scheduled for an unrelated surgery and there were some complications, I have to go.”

You understood and James wrapped you in a tight hug and you kissed his cheek.

“I love you, Jamie.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, wishing he could hold onto you and never let you go, but instead he was pulled away from your warm embrace wondering how on earth Liana had learnt to call him dad.

—

“You look like you haven’t slept in days, spending time with the baby again?” House asked, waltzing into James’ office.

“No, I haven't been over in a few days,” James shook his head.

“You haven’t been over in a few days…Something happened,” House deduced and James gave him a look.

“Nothing happened. I’m just taking a break,” he lied.

“You’ve been going non-stop to spend time with them since the baby was born ten months ago, why do you need a break now?”

“Because I have a lot on my mind and there’s a few new patients I need to focus on-,”

“You’re lying.”

“Yes I am,” James admitted and House grinned.

“Really?”

“No, I’m not,” he shook his head and continued to look down and do his work.

“We do this every single time and every single time I’m right,” House said. “Why don’t we save the back and forth for another time and just skip to the part where you tell me what’s going on.”

“Oh really and you were right that time you thought I was cheating on my wife and she was the one cheating on me?” he asked.

“Okay, so I’m not perfect,” House shrugged. “What happened, Wilson? I could just as easily get your friend’s number and ask directly if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“God no,” James shook his head. “Leave her alone, she doesn’t need to deal with you on top of working and raising a child.”

“Alright then, what happened?”

James took a deep breath and sighed, “Liana called me dad the other day. I have no idea where she learnt it from.”

“She started speaking,” House nodded, pressing his lips together. “Was it her first word or-,”

“Second. She said mom first,” James said, but caught a glimpse of his friend trying to fight back a smile and suddenly all the offers to take care of Liana paired with the photographs made sense. “You taught her!” he exclaimed. “House I can’t believe you’d pull a prank on me by manipulating my friend’s baby!”

“Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” House rolled his eyes.

“House, I cannot believe you!”

“You’re not mad at me,” House shook his head. “You’re just mad you liked it.”

“No I’m-,”

“Yes, you are,” the diagnostician emphasized. “You’ve been sitting here tearing yourself apart for the past four days because she called you dad and you liked it. You’re mad at yourself for liking it because she’s not your kid.”

“No,” James quieted down. “She’s not.”

“You haven’t gone back because you’re afraid to hear her say it again, aren’t you?”

“Since when did you become an expert on my personal problems, House? You caused this, why should I listen to anything you have to say?”

“Because you’re being an idiot. You’re punishing yourself for liking something. Do you realize how insane that sounds?”

“It’s not insane, House, she’s not my baby-,”

“Sure, she’s not your baby and you have her feeding and nap routine memorized. You’ve been to her doctor's appointments, she’s calmer in your arms than she is in the arms of her grandparents. Yeah, go and tell that to any moron sitting out there and they’ll tell you for me, you’re being an idiot.”

James sighed again, “And why do you care?”

“Because once you’re done with this spiral we can go back to the way things were when you weren’t a boring depressed lump.”

“How kind of you,” James faked a smile.

House’s pager went off, leaving James alone again in his office, thinking about what his friend had said.

You’d told him so many times that things were okay, but maybe a part of him didn’t want to let him believe that you didn’t mind because that was a slippery slope to him facing himself and his feelings and he didn’t care what his heart was telling him, he wouldn’t put himself through that. He wouldn’t put you and Liana through that. But at the same time, he couldn’t keep himself away forever. He didn’t want that either.

So with a deep breath he picked up his office phone and dialled your number, putting it up to his ear and waiting for the line to connect on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“James,” your voice sounded almost relieved. “H-Hey, how are you?”

He pressed his lips together, “Miserable, actually. I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too,” you chuckled with a small sniffle.

“C-Can I come over for dinner tonight?” he asked.

“You still have a key, what do you think?” you asked with a bit of a laugh. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, see you then,” James smiled and after he hung up the phone he took a deep breath, his fast heartbeat slowing down by the second.

Maybe this time House was right.

—

The next few weeks passed by and things resumed to their normal state, much to House’s delight. James’ role as department head always meant at least one day a week where he would stay late and do some extra paperwork, dealing with anything that may have slipped through the cracks before.

This time, that had fallen on a Sunday and it was just past dinner when he heard a knock on his door and wondering who was on the other end he called for them to come in.

You opened the door a crack and again asked permission to come in and James smiled at you, looking up from his paperwork, not expecting to see you in the hospital.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting to see you here, what’s going on?”

“I just wanted to drop by and bring you something for dinner, I know it’s your paperwork day.”

“Thanks, that’s really sweet of you,” he stood up from his chair and came to stand in front of his desk, leaning back on it while you placed the take out bag on the table. “Where’s Liana?”

“Oh Helen’s looking after her tonight,” you said. “I had a few things I needed to do and um just wanted the evening off,” you admitted.

“Fair enough,” James nodded.

“I actually brought you something else,” you rolled back and forth on the balls of your feet and James noticed the tension in your stature. “H-Here,” you handed him a gift bag which he eyed curiously.

Today wasn’t his birthday or some memorable event you celebrated together. There wasn’t much of a reason to get him a present which made it all the more intriguing.

He pulled out a wrapped rectangular box from the bag, and putting the bag aside he began to carefully tear away the wrapping paper to reveal what looked like a picture frame. Overlaid on the frame, on top of the photo, James noticed a card which he unfolded to read its contents.

Happy Father’s Day. We love you loads. - Liana and Mom

James moved the card to see the picture and put his hand over his mouth, feeling tears involuntarily form in his eyes as he saw the familiar scene of your room, lit by the light of your lamp as Liana was fast asleep against his chest while he napped on the armchair.

James quickly wiped away the few tears that were in his eyes and looked up at you with a grateful smile, looking back down at the image before placing it neatly on his desk along with the card.

“I hope you like it,” you said quietly, biting your lip. “I thought you might want to have a copy of that picture and…you know just a thank you for everything you’ve done for me and Liana this past year.”

“I love it,” he assured you. “I-I love it and I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smiled.

“N-No,” James came closer and reached out, taking your hands in his. “I…I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“Jamie,” you spoke in a breathy whisper, unsure of how you lost your voice. “I-,” you opened your mouth to speak again, but paused when James raised a hand to your face, wiping away the tears you didn’t even notice had begun to stream down.

“I just don’t want to be away from you, ever,” he said softly. “I never did. And now with Liana, I want to be there, for all of it.”

You held the wrist of his hand that held your face, pulling him in closer so your foreheads rested against each other.

You took in a shaky breath, thinking back on those words. Something you’d been saying to each other for longer than you could remember. The first time was so clear in your mind, you were on the phone racking up long distance charges while James was in Montreal. It had slipped out by accident, a reflex, and you had convinced yourself when the phone had hung up you’d never call him back, unable to face what you’d just said, but before you could spiral any further, he said it back and you never stopped saying it.

For the longest time that was the only occurrence that was memorable, everything else was a blur, that was until a few months ago. It was so simple, you had fallen asleep on the couch and James had made sure Liana was fed and bathed and even cleared up some things in the kitchen before sitting on the couch with some tea and a book. You had talked and said I love you as a thank you, but when the words left your mouth they also left a lingering airiness in your heart, a feather light feeling that came crashing down like an anvil when he left to go home because you realized you never wanted to be apart from him.

It took you a few moments to realize you hadn’t said anything and James was anxiously waiting for some sort of communication, anything, but since the meaning of your words had changed, for both of you, you thought it might be more conducive to work in actions.

You closed in the space between you, at first gently resting your lips on his and letting him lead you in a soft and slow kiss, putting aside all the restraint you both had been using these past months in an effort to protect your friendship.

One of James’ hands held onto your waist, pulling you in so that there was no space left between you. He kissed you again and again, remembering each one as a core memory, engraved in his mind, paired with the feeling of your arms wrapped around his neck, the feeling of your body pressed so closely against his, his heart beating outside of his chest.

It was easy for his lips to trail away from yours, moving along your jaw, to your temple before you had pulled each other into a warm embrace, simply existing in each other’s arms. James thought to himself what a nice life it would be, not ever having to pull away.

—

“I don’t have much to say,” James smiled. “Everything is looking good, you still seem 100% healthy to me.”

“That’s great news.”

“It definitely is. Standard procedure, but we’ll have one more of these remission follow ups to make sure everything is still in order then you hopefully won’t have to see me again.”

“Thank you Dr. Wilson, I really appreciate all you’ve-.”

“Dad!”

“Sweetheart, wait he’s with a patient!”

James turned his head and saw Liana running over to him, you valiantly trying to chase after her without much success.

He quickly scooped her up in his arms before she crashed into him, pressing a big kiss to her cheek.

“Sorry about that,” James apologized. “It’s Saturday, we normally have lunch together.”

“No worries,” he chuckled.

“Liana, this is my patient Mr. Kimbilio, can you say hi?”

Liana waved and said hi, very exuberantly.

“This is my daughter,” James introduced. “And that’s my wife,” he pointed over to you.

“Daughter,” Mr. Kimbilio smiled. “I think I met you Liana, when you were very small. Your father was looking after you at work and so some of his patients got to meet you.”

“Really?” she looked up at her dad and he nodded.

“He’s right, I remember that,” James smiled. “You’ve grown a lot since then, haven’t you Li,” he kissed her cheek again and she giggled.

You finally caught up to the group and James greeted you with a quick kiss, passing Liana off to you so he could wrap things up and you could all go down to the cafeteria for lunch together.

“If I remember correctly,” Mr. Kimbilio started. “You didn’t introduce her as your daughter the first time we met. I’m glad something changed.”

“Me too,” James smiled, looking over at his wife and daughter fondly who were now in the midst of making him very proud by pulling off a small prank on House as he came out of his office.

It didn’t take much longer for them to wrap things up and you and Liana made a quick pit stop inside James’ office before heading downstairs.

Liana went to go sit in James’ seat while he put away his files and organized them.

It had been a while since you’d been in his office, but it felt like ever since the night you first kissed things had begun to change in the room.

His desk was now more littered with photos than knickknacks and Liana’s artwork was posted wherever there was room.

You came around to the other side, looking a little more closely at the pictures.

There was one of you, James, and Liana on your wedding day, another of just the two of you during an anniversary celebration, Liana’s kindergarten photo from school and another one of you as a family on your last vacation. And still as prominent as ever, the framed photo you had gifted James on his first father’s day.

“You ready to go?” he asked you, looking up and noticing your eyes gazing at the pictures on his desk.

When you didn’t initially respond, too focused on what you were looking at, James wrapped an arm around you and tilted your chin towards him so he could press a kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” you smiled and James kissed you again, saying.

“And I love you,” before moving over to pick up Liana and kiss her cheek. “And you.”

Liana giggled, feeling tickled by the kisses and moving to give both of you a kiss on the cheek before saying.

“Mom, Dad, I’m starving. Can we go eat now?”

“Sure, Liana banana,” James chuckled and you wrapped an arm around him, walking side by side out of the office and in the direction of the elevator to get to the cafeteria, thinking you were pretty lucky that in the end, your best friend listened to his heart and went after what he wanted.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @kiddbegins @il0vebeingdelulu @illicit4ff4irs @lynnsthoughts @miarabanana @iwmflbb @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey @sarcasm-and-stiles @sun-flower-mad @x-uno @han11dh @qardasngan @alexxavicry

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #james wilson fanfiction #james wilsonf anfic #james wilson fic #dr wilson #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #house md #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #robert sean leonard

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suskz · 2 days

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Guess who’s back~

hello my lovely angel <3

I was gonna recommend anonymously again but we need the pic.

so. Remember when chan broke us with this:

I was thinking about what if chan, like, handcuffed you to the bed? Being all rough and shit. Yep. I’m ill lol. So I was just wondering if you weren’t too busy if a fic/drabbles on the table? have a good day/night

remember to eat and drink water💕💕💕

Hi sweetie ♡

Need to say that rough sex with Chan has me on my knees 🛐

I’m sorry that it took so long for it to be finished. I rewrote ur ask like 3 times cuz I didn’t like the way it was coming out lol.

Then I found the right idea, but I’m not totally satisfied with how I wrote it in some parts. Still hope you like it!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

pairing: Bang Chan x fem!Reader

w/c: 2,5k

tw: smut ; rough sex ; dirty talk ; degradation kink ; praising kink ; choking ; handcuffing ; established relationship ; clit play ; it’s not specified, but there are safe-words between them, anyway reader doesn’t use any of them ; bruises.

When you see them, your eyes cling to the shiny pink metal you just found at the bottom of your boyfriend’s closet.

You take them and you turn them over in your hands, observing them carefully. It’s part of the toys he’s used in the past, just not with you.

Your relationship is quite new, and you haven't really discussed your sexual preferences yet. In fact, you're still discovering them, being new to your first romantic relationship. But the way your heart beats faster, your cheeks flush, and you feel a certain tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach at the images that come to mind at the thought of what he might do with those handcuffs, it leaves you with some questions.

But when you hear his voice calling you, you realize you've paused too long. You place them back in their spot and pick up the light white blanket he asked you to retrieve, which had been covering the heart-shaped handcuffs you've just discovered.

When you return to the living room, he’s putting the movie on TV. After cuddling up on the couch, with him half-lying down and you on top of him, covering yourselves with the blanket, he makes it start.

But you can't focus on it because of your previous discovery. Your desire to try it is so high. You think it's time to try introducing something new into sex, and that could be a good start. The only thing left to do is to ask. If only it were that simple.

"Channie…" his name escapes from your lips before you can rethink.

"Mh?" he directs his attention to you without taking his eyes off the TV.

Only when you raise your head to look at him does he do the same, locking eyes with yours.

"Well..." you say, unsure, "I found a c-couple of handcuffs under this blanket, in your closet," your voice comes out more stuttering than you want it to.

"Oh," he says surprised; he doesn't remember leaving them there, "I must have left them there by mistake, I'll put them back in place another time; thanks for telling me, I guess," he observes you closely, "Is there something wrong?".

"Uh... well," there's a small moment of silence, and finally you find the courage to tell him, "I thought we could try them." you take your eyes away from his, looking down, and you're thankful that there's no light in the room other than the one emitted by the TV because you feel your cheeks and ears start to burn.

The movie is long forgotten, and you expect questions from him, but he simply nods. He places two fingers under your chin and lifts your head so you can look him in the eyes, "Do you want to try now?".

"I mean, if you want to...".

"I want it," he replies immediately, "Now, be a good girl and go to the bedroom to undress while I tidy up here, okay?"

You nod quickly and head to the bedroom. You hear some noise in the living room and figure Chan is rearranging things while waiting for you to be ready for him.

You get rid of your pants and shirt, remaining only in your underwear, since you're not wearing a bra. You wonder if you should also take off your panties, but then you remember how much he enjoys touching you over them and seeing them get wet for him, so you keep them on.

You take the handcuffs from the closet and place them on the bed next to where you sit cross-legged, waiting for him.

And a few minutes later, you hear the door of the room open and you raise your head in his direction.

He pauses for a moment at the door, gazing at you, and his lips curl into a smirk. You feel your cheeks warm slightly as you watch him approach you.

He reaches you on the bed and positions himself over you, making you slide back until you're lying beneath him.

"I told you to undress completely, didn’t I?" he looks into your eyes, and before you can respond, one of his hands firmly grabs your inner thigh and you gasp slightly at the sudden touch, "But I won’t complain." He leans in over you and captures your lips with his.

He kisses you deeply and slowly, exploring your mouth with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. The room would be completely enveloped in silence if not for the subtle slurp of your tongues intertwining and the soft sighs escaping from your lips.

His hand that was on your tigh now begins to go up your body, brushing your core with his thumb in the process, continuing up your stomach and stopping at your breast, which he grasps, making sure to have your nipple between two of his fingers. He brings his two fingers together slightly to pinch it lightly, and the slight moan he elicits from you makes him repeat the action.

He breaks away from the kiss only for a moment; while his thumb teases your nipple, his other hand grips your inner thigh to open your legs further and lower his hips onto yours, pressing gently, which becomes rougher as you resume kissing, making both of you moan and making you feel how hard he is in his pants.

Before pulling away, he bites your lip, and then you look into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily. Your lips are red and swollen from the kiss, and he smiles, looking at you.

Finally, one of his hands reaches your most intimate part, sliding his thumb along it, feeling how wet you’ve made your panties, ��Did I get you all worked up without even touching you properly?” he teases you.

You give him a fiery look, “The situation here tells me the same about you.” You reach for the crotch of his pants, grabbing and squeezing it, making him gasp. He returns your gaze and lightly slaps your pussy before lifting his body from yours, still remaining between your legs.

His gaze falls on the handcuffs next to you, and he takes them in his hands, observing them. “You’re just waiting for the moment when I fuck you with these, aren’t you?” he huffs a little chuckle through his nose. “First choking, now these; you like being submissive, huh? Leaving me in control of everything.” there’s a slight edge in his voice that shows how truly turned up he is. Just the fact that you’re trusting him so much, letting him have total control of your body, makes his mind slightly dizzy.

He looks at you and sees the desperation now colouring your features. “Now, face down, ass up”.

You do as you’re told, turning over and raising your ass, and putting your forearms on the bed to keep yourself slightly up so that your face isn’t pressed into the pillow. But without warning, his hands grab your arms and put them behind your back. You feel his hand just above your wrist, and then cold metal touching your skin, and you feel a shiver run through your entire body at the sensation.

His hand tightens its grip on your hip while the thumb of the other presses against your entrance, making your panties even wetter, then he pulls them down to your ankles. He would like to play with you a bit more, but he doesn’t feel that patient right now.

He lowers his pants and boxers just enough to pull out his cock, and you feel arousal coursing through your entire body at the thought of him fucking you with his clothes still on while you’re completely naked underneath him at his mercy.

He grabs the underside of your asscheeks —and beginning of your thighs—, spreading them apart and taking a good look at your hole clenching around nothing; then, one of his hands breaks away from your skin to slide two of his fingers inside, making you whimper.

You move your hips back and forth to the rhythm of his fingers, which is fucking slow, but his other hand tightens harder where it grips your skin, as a warning. And you hope it bruises.

He pulls them out and wipes them on one of your cheeks, and without any warning, he enters you in one swift motion, immediately starting to move without giving you time to settle properly.

“S-slow down—“ you ask him breathlessly, but he doesn’t.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” his breath is heavy, “To be tied up and used the way I like, huh?”. At his words, you clench around his cock, making him moan and grip your hips tightly.

He lowers himself onto you and rests his hands on the bed. Your face is pressed into the pillows as you try to stifle your moans. But it’s difficult with the way his cock moves so skilfully inside you, hitting your weak spots, making it so hard to hold back that you’re breathless and think about asking him to stop for a moment. You’re not usually so shy and never try to hold back your moans, but this time is different, maybe because of the handcuffs? You don’t even know.

But he notices. He stops, slides an arm under your breast, and lifts your body. His other hand grabs the headboard of the bed for balance.

His tongue licks that patch of skin behind your ear where you’re sensitive, “Why aren’t you making yourself heard?” he whispers and starts moving again, “I want to hear how good I make you feel, so don’t you dare hold back again.” it sounds like a threat, but you ignore that as his movements become faster than before, and soon he makes you fall back onto the bed, with half of your face on the pillows but your nose and mouth free, and this time you make yourself heard loud and clear.

“Good girl.” if the nickname didn’t make you moan loudly enough, his hand gripping your nape to choke you and push your head down definitely did.

With every thrust, you feel yourself on the verge of coming and you fucking love this so much.

Suddenly, you feel him stop, and your wrists are freed; but you don’t have time to understand what’s happening or to complain before he pulls his cock out of you and you’re turned onto your back.

He takes your arms and brings them to the headboard of the bed, where he puts the handcuffs back on you, securing them to it.

And then, he looks at you.

He observes your entire body, from your tear-streaked face with saliva-coated lips, to your wet, stretched out pussy, begging to be filled again.

Finally, your brain starts to reason again, and if possible, your cheeks flush an even deeper red. You feel exposed. You want to cover yourself with your arms, and you try, but the metallic noise that comes out reminds you of the situation you’re in. You try to close your legs —as much as you can with him in between them— but his hands roughly grasp your inner thighs, spreading them apart again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hives you a disapproving look, “Why should you hide from me, huh?” He seems annoyed, mad, and you shrink under his judgmental gaze. “I don’t think you deserve my dick inside you again. Maybe I should leave you like this: handcuffed to the bed, naked and needy for the rest of the night. What do you think about that?”.

You feel like crying at his words. He couldn’t really do that, could he?

You shake your head quickly.

“Obviously, a slut like you just wants to be filled with dick all the time,” he takes his cock in hand and slaps the tip against your clit, and as you moan freely, he suppresses the groan that tries to escape his lips. “isn’t that right?”.

“Please.”

“Please what?” he responds coldly, looking down on you.

“Put it in, please.” you beg him, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“What if I don’t?”.

You feel tears of frustration forming at the corners of your eyes, “Channie…”

He slaps his tip against your clit again, drags it to your hole, “You’ll cry if I don’t put it in, won’t you? What a crybaby.”, and then he finally pushes it in.

He starts thrusting into you again, a little slower this time, but deeper than before.

Again, you feel the need to grab onto something, anything, but you can’t, and this makes you frustrated.

He places his hand on your stomach and presses, “Feel it” he moans, “feel my cock pushing inside you”. When your mind registers his words and you glance down at his hand, he removes it, and you can clearly see the outline of his cock bulging from your belly.

This is what makes you both feel close to the edge.

Chan feels he can’t hold out much longer. His hand reaches down where your bodies meet and takes your clit between two fingers, lightly pinching it.

"Are you about to come? Huh? You want to come, don’t you?".

"Please, daddy please." Your eyes are closed and your head thrown back into the pillows, so you don't see the way his face tightens at your words. A loud groan leaves his lips and your walls are painted with white spurts of hot cum. You follow right after him.

You don't realize you've blacked out for a while until you open your eyes and see Chan filling your chest and shoulders with sweet kisses.

He looks at you, and finally his gaze is soft and relaxed, “How was it?” he asks you attentively.

You smile, “Amazing, as always”.

“Good.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips.

Afterward, he takes a warm cloth and cleans you, puts another pair of underwear on you, and one of his shirts simply because he likes to see you wearing his stuff, while he puts on his boxers.

He applies a soothing lotion on your wrists as you talk about how you felt, and finally, he lies down in bed with you, covering both of you with the blanket.

You rest your head on his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat relaxes you as he strokes your hair.

“Was I too rough?” he asks, needing to make sure you don’t feel any pain.

“A bit, but I also liked it because of that”.

"I wasn’t too mean, right? Everything was good?" he's sure you would have told him if it was too much for you, but he still feels the need to hear confirmation from you that everything is okay.

“No, everything was perfect, baby, don't worry," you stroke his side.

“Good," he says, feeling more relaxed, "sleep now." he caresses your shoulder.

You already feel your eyes can't stay open any longer, but you still lift your head to give him a goodnight kiss.

And you fall asleep like that, in each other's arms, in the relaxing silence of the night and the sound of your hearts beating for each other.

#stray kids #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader fluff #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader smut #bang chan hard hours #stray kids bang chan #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #asks ♡#user: bunnii-143

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stylespresleyhearted · 1 day

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what’s the secret project you posted 👀

oh gosh i keep meaning to answer this and then i keep forgetting or pushing it back for reasons unknown to me i think im just unaccustomed to having any asks lol but anyways this is something that actually started because of a certain thing me and marina yell about when it comes to austin and then as our love for callum grew it came to something else grand and beautiful. now it’s only something that has been discussed in the chat, it has no doc or nothing official to it, it may never even come to fruition (marina is already gifting us with so much goodness in the fic worlds she dabbles in)

but i will share some of it and feel free to come further talk about it if it interests you 😘

Warnings: nsfw below the cut, open relationship, threesome, guy x guy, guy x guy x girl

So we’re all aware of how Austin put his blood, sweat, tears, and soul into his Elvis role. This man gave it his all and I’m truly so grateful to him for it because in my opinion (and most importantly in Lisa Marie’s opinion) he did Elvis Presley justice.

• Bree is a famous and highly esteemed guitarist, singer, and lyricist. She’s won multiple Grammies and written for and with Lana Del Rey, Arctic Monkeys, etc., that’s more her vibe. Baz hires her on during the making of Elvis movie so she could help him modernize the soundtrack and help with the choosing of songs. Maybe she’s even there when Austin gathers all the people from the record label and has them ridicule Austin after his first run through.

• But she’s there before filming and she’s there during filming and her and Austin even shack up together for a while during the first COVID lockdown, spending time with him in his apartment and staying up at all hours of the night to help him get certain scenes right. The bed sheets are tangled, kisses are shared, breakfast is eaten in bed not in the kitchen and there are multiple walks on the beach taken together.

• Bree tries her best to be there for him through all of it. She can sense he’s about to sky rocket and rightfully so, she doesn’t think anyone around can currently measure for his talent. She tries to be a soundboard and a friend and a girlfriend of sorts and a co worker and he’s got her playing all these different roles to keep up with him but keep in mind he never asked her to do any of that. She’s doing it because she loves him, maybe she isn’t in love with him or if she is she isn’t aware of it yet but she does love and care for him.

• And he’s going through his shit. He isn’t sure where Austin begins and Elvis ends and he isn’t in the headspace for a relationship, especially with Bree who deserves the world so when he’s sick as a dog and bed ridden before heading to London he makes sure to have the conversation with her. They were never official. Never went public or had rumors swirl. It’s better to end it on a good note and leave it how it is.

• So consider his surprise when a few months into filming MOTA, Bree shows up on Callum’s arm being introduced as his girlfriend. It’s supposed to be a lads night and Barry dragged him out and now someone who he calls one of his closest friends is introducing Bree as his current girlfriend. A close friend who he goes on walks in the parks with, who places kisses on his cheek after a few drinks, who places his hand on the small of Austin’s back when he approaches him, who pinches his cheeks and welcomed him with open arms. Dating someone who was there at his worst and gave him her heart and stayed up entire nights talking him down when his anxiety was too high and made him do self care when he forgot he was supposed to be his own person.

• and see, Callum and Bree are both Brits so they run in semi same circles and they knew of each other and were friends but Callum was with Vanessa Kirby and they were in love and for a while Bree was with Alex Turner and them afterwards there was Austin. So Callum and Bree were already friends and when they run into each other at a record shop and then head to lunch after and maybe Callum gave her a kiss goodbye when they went separate ways - it all just grew from there.

• so maybe Austin feels a green jealous monster growing inside his chest but who he’s jealous of he’s unsure and a larger part of him is actually happy for both of them. They’re good people, they love each other and both deserve each other.

• they’re suddenly everywhere. She accompanies Callum on set and it’s clear to everyone how in love they are and one time when they’re filming the POW scenes and everyone’s on lunch Austin is looking for peace and quiet so he wanders into their “bunks” but there right in front of him - Callum holding Bree up against the wood panel walls, pounding into her as she moans his name so prettily, his sheepskin jacket still on and making him sweaty. Callum’s eyes open and he catches Austin walking, Austin who trips over his own feet to back away but Callum just smiles and winks at him.

• and later Callum approaches Austin with a high five and a cheeky, “see how good I was giving it to her, mate?”

• and fuck, Austin gets hard thinking about it. Gets hard thinking about Bree’s moans and Callum’s grunt and his sweat and her breasts bouncing against his chest.

• then filming wraps and Austin’s free of them. Doesn’t have to be in there presence every day anymore and he meets someone, a nepo baby who’s beautiful and kind and he’s in a place where he feels he can be with someone so he goes for it and he falls in love.

• and MOTA press isn’t until 2024 so it’s two years of only a handful of run ins with them but then press starts and news break: Callum and Bree are engaged. And the entire cast and crew are happy and they all celebrate.

• She didn’t join Elvis press because she was touring.

• so now Austin is around his engaged friends and he has mixed feelings regarding both of them. See he’s happy and he loves his girlfriend and his career is good but if he’s being honest something is missing and when he wants to torture himself he admits he knows exactly what it is. And he’s doing interviews and Bree is backstage and Callum’s always so touchy and so kind in his words in regard to Austin and one day Callum admits Bree told him what went down between Bree and Austin and Callum’s a confident guy, he assures Austin it’s all fine.

• But maybe it’s the first screening of MOTA, and Callum and Bree are tired of Austin’s sad puppy dog eyes every time they catch him watching them so Bree corners Austin backstage. Gets close and starts palming him through his pants, assuring him Callum wouldn’t mind, in fact Callum has been purposely teasing Austin during interviews trying to get him to cave.

• Callum and Bree both decided if they all wanted it how could it be wrong? Why not go for it?

• And Bree’s falling to her knees and taking Austin in her mouth, pretty pouty lips wrapped around him as she takes him all the way in and suddenly Callum is there, watching them, talking her through it.

• “Isn’t she phenomenal, mate? Had to work with her to get rid of that gag reflex and now she can deep throat me.”

• and Callum waits until Austin mewls his name and calls him over, begging him to be a part of this somehow, to please hold him. So Callum is joining them, Bree so pretty on her knees between them and Callum is flicking Austin’s nipple and letting Austin let his moans out in his neck.

That’s all we have more to come soon if ya’ll wish 🌚

• oh yeah there’s a scene where Bree holds Austin’s hand the first time Callum fucks him because she’s aware of the pain of how large Callum is.

@precious-little-scoundrel

#callum turner #austin butler #callum x austin #callum turner fanfiction #austin butler fanfiction #callum turner fanfic #austin butler fanfic #callum turner smut #austin butler smut #*made by me #return to sender 💌#blurbs #austin x callum #mota fanfic #callum turner x reader #austin butler x reader #callum turner x austin butler #illicit affairs 💫

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kangals · 1 day

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forgive me…. i am a little dumb… does that COI number mean stellina is like. 40% inbred?? i’m assuming no but could you explain what the numbers mean?

Stellina is more than 40% inbred 🙃 but yes, that is what it means.

COI = coefficient of inbreeding, or essentially how inbred a dog is. A parent-child breeding, or a breeding between full siblings would theoretically give you a dog that has a COI of 25%. On average, purebred dogs are at about 20%, but that varies depending on breed - some breeds are very diverse, others are very inbred. The collie breed average is estimated to be around 40%, which is very much on the high end - it means on average, collies are almost genetic full siblings. This website has breed breakdowns, for a visual reference.

Genetic COI is a relatively recent thing, as before we had DNA tests we had to rely on “pedigree COI” aka literally laying your dogs pedigree out on paper, counting how many times certain dogs appeared over the generations, and then doing calculations based on that. These tend to be significantly lower than the genetic COI because that doesn’t take into account the overall gene pool of the breed. Stellinas pedigree COI was somewhere around 18% when I calculated it iirc, which is still high but significantly lower than her genetic COI. That’s because the amount of dogs originally used to create the modern collie breed was very small, so all collies today are pulling from the same small pool of DNA. When you have breeds that are all direct descendants from the same handful of dogs, and with how COI only accrues higher and higher with each generation… it’s totally possible to end up with thousands of dogs that are genetic siblings.

The good news is that despite their very low genetic diversity, collies are still a healthy breed with a respectable average lifespan on 12-14 and few major health issues. But that’s despite the high COI, not because of it. On the other hand take the Doberman breed, which has a similar average COI around 40%. Something like 2/3 Dobermans will die from a heart disease called DCM, which makes seemingly healthy dogs just drop dead. And because virtually every Doberman is a genetic full sibling with each other, there’s no real way to just breed away from it. The breeds essentially in a death spiral unless there’s some miraculous medical breakthrough, or unless they start breeding Dobermans to other, unrelated dogs to try and increase diversity. Which is a huge can of worms by itself. so while collies are still doing, all things considered, really well, they're very much the exception and not the rule. unfortunately because there's no immediate repercussions, that means a lot of collie breeders and clubs will hand-wave off the high COI as "oh that's not a problem for us" which, like. yeah. for now.

so tl;dr: yes COI is how inbred a dog is. yes it being high is bad. you can have a high COI and still be healthy (and have a low COI and be unhealthy), but it's still really not great and should be avoided. however in breeds where the COI is already high, there's not really a feasible way to get around it.

#the highest COI i've seen was actually a very mixed breed dog #who was from a hoarding situation where presumably it had just been 30+ years of the same 2 dogs descendants inbreeding over and over #that dog had a COI of 79% which is. wild.#anyway. unfortunately with a lot of dog breeds it is a lot more complicated and nuanced then 'well just open the studbooks'#collies are still skating by relatively unscathed but i do very much worry that its just a matter of time #long post

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takenbypeter · 21 hours

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hiii! can i request a chalamet!wonka x fem!reader where they’re childhood best friends and have grown up on the ship together and get stuck at scrubbit’s together?? and willy is super upset he got them into this mess and they’re stuck in own room (with one bed 🤭🤟) and fluff and confessions happen

Share This Moment With Me

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 1728

You couldn’t believe this.

5 years together on the ocean and even then you had your own cabin, but of course, at this small inn where you’ve been trapped the only room they claimed available was a single.

Now you didn’t blame the boy for spending all the sovereigns, you didn’t blame the boy for even finding this place, and to be fair you signed the contract without reading correctly either, so partially it was your fault as well, but what’s done was done and it couldn’t be changed. You were gradually coming to terms with that.

Willy not so much.

There he was pacing back and forth as you sat in the chair, your chin in your hand watching the man practically unravel in front of you.

“Sit down,” you breathed slightly annoyed at his trance, but he ignored and kept his pace. He walked back and forth muttering to himself with his hand raised and a fingernail between his teeth.

You had to do something, you couldn’t let him drive himself insane, or rather you insane. Blurting a “Willy!” You advance to the poor boy and placing your hands on both sides of his shoulders you push down, seating him on the mattress behind that barely looked clean. “Sit down, take a breather. What’s done is done,” you instruct calmly.

He peers up at you, his big brown eyes wide, “how are you so calm right now?”

You remove your hands from him, a tranquil tone present in your voice, “I’m not, but one of us has to keep it together.”

He threw his head in his hands, shaking it disappointedly, “I can’t believe I got us into this mess.”

“Hey, hey, you’re not the only one I could’ve taken a closer look at the contract.”

“I promised you a better life and look where it’s got us stuck.”

You pressed your lips thin at his pessimistic words. Giving up? This was unlike him, you didn’t like it. “It’s alright. Everything will be fine,” you said and he just sat there unmovable. “This isn’t like you,” you said, shocked at how dull your friend appeared.

“What happened to your positivity?”

Without answering your query he stands abruptly and heads for the door, “I’m going to ask again if they have two rooms.”

“Willy, even if they had one they’re not going to give it to us, that’s clear.”

He stopped hand frozen on the door handle because honestly you were right, just from that one experience with Mrs.Scrubbit and Mr. Bleacher, it was obvious they cared not a lick about comfortability that’s for sure.

“Come on, it’s late, let’s just get some rest. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

At your mention of rest you noticed his expression contort a little, it was quick but it was an expression you couldn’t quite name.

“You take the bed, I’ll find comfort on the floor,” you offer but he quickly denied it. “Are you kidding? You take the bed, I'll take the floor.”

“If you take the floor I’ll just join you on the floor.”

“Fine, then let’s both just take the bed.”

“Fine.”

Willy pulls up the blankets that cover the bed, first the heavy one then the light one. You grab the light one while he climbs in and you push the heavy one more to his side.

Shutting off the light you climb in next and throw the light blanket over your body. Laying with your back to the boy and his to yours, you realize just how small the bed actually is.

Trying to ignore the knowledge of his body practically touching yours you pull your blanket tighter, instead focusing on how cold the night was.

That obviously was no help because now your body was just cold, you tried your best to conceal the feeling but no matter how hard you thought you couldn’t stop your body from shivering.

No doubt noticing your shivers, you feel a weight land over you, and you pull the heavy quilt over you and up to your chin.

Five minutes go by.

Fifteen minutes go by.

Twenty minutes go by and you’re still awake and alert.

You knew it wasn’t the cold keeping you up, in fact you were warm now, very warm. Now of course the quilt was keeping you warm but that didn’t explain the warmth you were beginning to feel in your cheeks, no that was caused but the knowledge of Willy Wonka’s body mere centimeters from yours.

You’ve known the boy since you were practically a child, it’s safe to say you’ve had your fair share of a crush on the boy. However, it was always one that would come and go and you’d like to think you had control over your feelings. However it was hard, when you were in such a situation like this.

You wait a few more minutes, but then you feel his body move no doubt turning around as you hear and feel the creak of the bed frame. “Can’t sleep?” You ask.

“No, can you?” You hear from behind and you turn, making your own creaking noises as you shift to face him. “No.”

You lay across from each other, face to face, staring as the light from the moon peeks through the window illuminating his facial features just enough for you to see.

You’re looking into his brown eyes while he does the same to you. You gaze over his features, his curls, his eyes, his nose, his lips, back to his eyes.

“Are you thinking about this whole mess again?” You finally ask.

“No.”

“Then what are you thinking about?”

He was silent, his eyes remaining on you.

“Willy, you’ve gotten into plenty of trouble before, what’s going on?” You ask, genuinely concerned for the boy and his thoughts. It was not healthy to be thinking so negatively.

“Yeah, but It’s easy to be optimistic and positive when it’s just me I have to take care of, but now I’ve roped you into this mess and who knows what will happen?” You lay in silence because he was right, who knows what will happen? “I asked you to come with me, I’m supposed to keep you safe. I just don’t want to be the reason someone I care so deeply about gets hurt.”

That was a lot to take in, he wants to keep you safe? He cares about you deeply?

“How am I supposed to imagine the future if I can’t even keep you safe in the present? “

“The future?”

He must’ve revealed something carelessly because in the next moment you could make out how his eyebrows knitted together and he sat up, “I have to get up,” he says and you sit up as well allowing him to scooch out from the bed and walk around, pacing as he did before.

“You picture us in the future together?”

“Well yeah, of course, I can’t imagine my future without you.”

The warmth that was only in your cheeks, spread, now affecting your whole face.

“Good, cause I can’t imagine a future without you,” you repeat, causing his nervous paces to slow.

“You do?” He asks, appearing to be in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“What do you picture our future like?”

You shrug suddenly growing shy, “what do you picture our future like?”

It seemed like this back and forth would never end.

“Okay, I can’t do this anymore,” he waves his arms around like a lunatic, “I have something to say,” he announces as if you hadn’t been listening. But just to show how in tune you were, you pushed against the bed positioning yourself closer to the edge to show you were paying close attention.

He froze, looking at you for a moment before beginning to pace again. “Just say it!” You urged tired of waiting for an answer.

He interlocks his hands together, tapping his pointer finger against his knuckles, “alright, I’m going to say something, and I don’t want this to ruin anything, because I value our friendship so much.”

You could practically see where this was going, he was just taking too long to get there.

“I mean we’ve been friends for so long, I wouldn’t want to do anything to cause damage to that,” unable to take the suspense any longer you do you both a favor and utter, “I like you.”

His mouth closes, quiet, while you contort your face into an embarrassed expression. It was hard to make Willy speechless but it seemed like you’ve just about done it. “I don’t just like you, I have feelings for you…” still, silence. “…romantic ones,” you add hoping that would knock him out of his apparent coma.

But it didn’t.

“Ahem,” you cough out, eyes now averted from his as you wonder if you’ve misread the whole situation. It can’t be, right?

You don't have too much time to think of it, because luckily he finds his words, “I like you too.” You finally peer back at him and he sits beside you on the bed. “I mean I have romantic feelings for you.”

A smile sneaked onto your face, but his still remains upset, “but now you’re stuck here with me, and it’s my fault.” Reaching over, you take his hand, “Willy, I’ve told you over and over again, it’s alright. Plus there’s no one I’d rather get stuck with than you.”

He let out a single laugh, “that sounds ridiculous.”

“Yeah well I happen to know of a chocolatier who loves ridiculous things, oh wait that’s you…” you say laughing at your own words, and of course your laugh causes him to laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So I guess you love me,” you meant it to be jokingly and lighthearted but you said it without thinking. You expected him to brush it off but apparently he was giving it much thought as he looked at you earnestly.

“I guess I do.”

This time, Willy didn’t hesitate. He tilted forward until his mouth met yours. It was a long awaited and lingering kiss between you two. One that left butterflies in your stomach as he smiled against your lips keeping his forehead pressed against yours.

“Oh I’m definitely going to have a hard time going to sleep now,” you joked while he laughed again, reattaching his lips to yours.

#wonka imagine #willy wonka imagine #willy wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfiction #willy wonka fanfic #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka fanfic

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stranger-stevieee · 2 days

Text

Chapter 1: The Vanishing of Will Byers

Summary: As Will Byers' older sister, you have a responsibility to protect him. When you fail, you have to go through the process of getting him back safely. Between fighting inter-dimensional monsters, a girl with superpowers, and getting your brother back, you might just end up falling in love along the way.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Byers!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings (entire series): cursing, angst, gore and violence (in the later seasons), fem!reader, enemies to lover (sorta), any other warnings from the show

—

November 7, 1983

You woke up to the irritating sound of your alarm going off. Reaching over to the nightstand, you turn it off. Dreading the idea of having to go to school today.

After getting ready for the day, you head down the hall to the kitchen where you see Jonathan making breakfast and your Mom frantically searching around the house for her keys.

“Good morning,” you say, sitting down at the table

Looking back at you over his shoulder with a small smile on his face, he says, “Morning”

Mom not replying until her keys are secured in her hand, “Got ‘em! Good morning sweetheart”

Walking over to Jonathan she starts saying her goodbyes before walking over to you.

“Okay, guys, I will see you tonight…where’s Will?”

“Oh, I didn’t get him up yet,” Jonathan explains

Hearing this, you jump up from your seat, a small smile covering your face as you say, “I’ll wake him, Mom.”

“Thank you, sweetie”

Walking towards Will’s room you can faintly hear mom scolding Jonathan, “You have to make sure he’s up!” “Mom, I’m making breakfast.”

Rolling your eyes playfully you call out, “Will! C’mon, you have to get up for school! You’re gonna be late…”

Your sentence was cut off by the sight of his messy sheets and empty bed. With a bit of panic, you ran out of the room and back into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom? Will’s not here…”

“Did he come home last night?” She asks with a concerned expression while you and Jonathan reply with “I don’t know”

Her expression was somewhere between shocked and irritated, “You didn’t check?”

After Jonathan explained that he had worked an extra shift last night, causing him to come home late, Joyce told him that it was a very irresponsible thing to do, and she directed her attention towards you.

“And you?”

“N-no I was out late last night too. I was working on a project,” you responded

Walking towards the phone she looks back at the both of you and says, “I can’t believe you guys!”

“It’s due today!”

She starts dialing the Wheeler house because that's where Will was last night and figured he might’ve slept over, but when she gets off the phone you can tell something is very wrong.

Your baby brother was missing.

“Okay…uh, I’m gonna go to the police station and see if they could help us in any way. You two stay here and start looking.”

—

You and Jonathan had searched the whole house, plus the shed until you eventually decide to go into the woods.

As you are about to head out, you get a knock at the door.

Opening it, you see Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and Dustin Henderson standing there. Will’s best friends.

These boys have been there for him, basically, forever, and over time they have become like family to you. You gained 3 more brothers.

“Hey, boys… what’s up”

You already know what’s up. Every day the 3 of them show up to pick up Will and ride to school together. Only today will be different.

“Hi, Y/N!” Dustin speaks with the cutest lisp, “Where’s Will? He’s usually here waiting for us.”

You don’t have it in you to tell them the truth. That Will could possibly be missing. So instead you go with, “Oh…yeah we actually didn’t see him this morning. He probably just left early for school”

Mike, always the skeptic, asks “Early? He never leaves early. Late? Maybe, but never early”

Feeling panic rising, you immediately reply, “Well… I don’t know, Mike, just get to school.”

“Whatever,” he says walking away, the other two following behind him.

Taking a deep breath in and out to calm yourself down, you call out to Jonathan telling him your ready to head out.

—

“Will!”

“Will, where are you bud?”

You’ve been out here for at least an hour before Joyce came back from the police station.

“Kids!” She yells out frantically, “Did you find him?”

“No, Mom he’s not anywhere”

As she walks deeper into the woods she asks “Did you check ‘Castle Byers’?”

Jonathan replied, “Yes, that’s the first place we looked”

Completely disregarding his statement, she went towards ‘Castle Byers’ determined to find her son.

Of course, as you both explained, once she pulled back the curtain that acted as a door, she found it to be empty.

With a heavy sigh, you immediately go back to calling for Will. Jonathan and Joyce joining you.

“Will?”

“Will! Where are you?”

This was going to be the longest day ever.

—

“Bitch!” Mom says slamming the phone down. You and Jonathan flinching in response

“Mom. You have to stay calm”

She was calling Lonnie, your dad but you refused to call him that, trying to ask him if he’s seen Will.

While Joyce goes back to the phone, picking it up to dial again, Jonathan goes back to making a missing poster for Will.

He’s making the actual poster part of it while you’re picking out the perfect picture to put on it.

During this process, there was so much going through your mind.

What if we never find him?

What if Will is hurt?

Or worse, what if he’s dead?

This is all my fault. How could I have let this happen? I’m supposed to protect him. I failed.

Your mind won’t stop running, it’s working overtime to find all the answers to all these questions.

You can’t take it anymore until you finally drop the pictures and turn to Jonathan.

“Johnny, what if he’s not ok?”

He stops his writing and looks at you saying, “Hey, we can’t think like that. He’s fine, we just gotta find him. Okay?”

You can tell he’s barely keeping it together himself but is trying so hard.

Looking up out of the front window you hear a noise. A car door.

“Mom,” you say quietly, Jonathan quickly following with, “Cops,”

—

The chief of police and 2 other officers have started wandering around the house. Looking for anything they can that would prove as evidence.

When they arrived, Hopper had Will’s bike in his hand. Saying he found it on the side of the road, just lying there.

As they walked around you knew they weren’t going to find much.

A mess? Maybe. But no evidence.

Because if there was anything you guys would’ve found it already.

Hopper came back inside the house saying that he called for a search party that would start soon and go well into the night.

You volunteered to go but Joyce said she wanted all of you to stay home and get some rest.

And so you do. The three of you stay home, and while still trying to figure out the poster situation you get a call on the phone.

Joyce rushes to answer, and while you can’t hear anything being said on the other line, you can hear her screaming frantically.

“Will?”

Your immediate reaction is to run over to her and try to figure out if it’s Will on the phone.

With Jonathan following closely, you both start questioning her, asking questions like “It’s Will?” and “Mom, is it Will?”

After getting nothing but frantic yelling from her, you decided to grab the phone and question the person yourself.

But before you can, the phone suddenly lets out a bolt of electricity and Joyce jolts back dropping it.

Jonathan immediately rushes to her side asking, “Mom, was it him?”

You stand in shock looking at the both of them wondering what the hell just happened.

“What did they say?” you ask

She replied, saying “He just breathed. He just breathed.”

Jonathan immediately pulls her into a hug whispering “It’s ok, Mom. It’s ok,”

—

Eventually, Mom managed to fall asleep for a bit while Jonathan cleaned up the mess in the living room while you worked in the kitchen.

“We’ll find him right?” you ask Jonathan while organizing all the pictures scattered across the table

“We will. And when we do everything will be okay again.”

—

A/n: Helloooo!!! I’m so excited to be sharing this with you! I absolutely love series rewrites so I decided to make it myself to incorporate the stuff I like into one big fic. So basically this chapter has no Steve in it (😔 ik) but it just is the backstory of everything. Yk Will going missing, how the reader responds to it, all that stuff. Also, I promise the chapters will get longer. Anyways, I really hope you all enjoy and thank you for choosing to read my work! (any criticism is welcome but please be kind)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harington x byers!reader #steve harrington angst #stranger things #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #fluff #angst #steve harrington x reader angst

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virginsexgod69 · 15 hours

Text

Stormy Weather

pairing Daryl Dixon x F! Reader

summary You and Daryl get to know each other while cooped up in the bathroom, hiding from the tornado

cw none! This chapter is chill, but kinda heavy in dialogue

1.1k words

Series Masterlist

You and Daryl were both crammed in the empty bathtub, toe to toe with each of your knees to your chests. You didn’t know why you were in the bathtub, but it’s what you remember doing during tornadoes as a child. It was definitely awkward. The two of you sat in silence, avoiding eye contact.

“So,” you said, opening the door to awkward conversation, his blue eyes snapped up at you. “Did you have a camp before I found you?”

“Yeah. Lived in the prison with my group. You been here the whole time?” He asked. You sighed and nodded your head, not liking the direction the conversation you started was headed in. “Somewhat. A little after the outbreak, a couple of us took shelter here in my hus- ex husband’s cabin.” You cringed at your almost slip up.

“Anyway! How’d you get split from your group?” He told you about a man who called himself the Governor and the atrocities he committed on his group. You cringed at the story of what he went through. Because your cabin was in the middle of nowhere, you never really had run ins with any other people, save for the few times you’ve ran into people during runs. You hadn’t realized, or seen first hand how depraved people have become. You were grateful that it was Daryl who stumbled upon your cabin instead of someone like the man from his story.

“You by yerself now, too?” He asked.

“Nope. I shot a stranger and now he’s in an empty bathtub with me,” you joked in an attempt to lighten the somber mood. A small smile graced his handsome face at your joke. He didn’t need to know that you were all alone in your cabin because your scumbag of a husband abandoned you in the midst of the apocalypse, so you didn’t tell him.

“When the weather clears up, are you gonna go out lookin’ for your friends? You asked. He grunted in the affirmative. You couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy you felt. He had people and he seemed pretty dedicated to them. You wondered if they even knew how lucky they were to have someone who’d look for them when they got split up, instead of having someone who couldn’t wait to ditch them, like the people you had.

“How nice of you,” you bitterly remarked. You didn’t mean to come off so cruel, but for the first time since meeting Daryl, you noticed how lonely you really were. He didn't say anything, but just glared at you.

"I'm goin' to sleep. Wake me up if something happens." You got as comfortable as you could with your pillow and closed your eyes, willing sleep to come quickly.

A loud thud and the sound of glass shattering jolted you awake. You looked around hastily in your state of disorientation before your eyes landed on Daryl and everything started coming back.

"W-what happened?" you asked blearily.

"Think a tree fell through a window." Panic shot through your spine. You couldn’t afford any damage to the cabin. Not only was this your home which held so many memories, both good and bad, but this place has kept you safe from the outside’s dangers for so long. A broken window would compromise that.

“I need to go check, I’ll be back,” you said as you scrambled out the tub and rushed for the door.

“Ain’ no point in checkin’ now. Storm’s still goin’,” Daryl nonchalantly said from the empty tub. He was right and you knew it, but you couldn’t help but feel drawn to leave. Anxiety clawed at your chest causing you to pace in circles around the small bathroom.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asked, unable to tune out your nervous behavior. He wondered if it had anything to do with those two locked rooms.

“Nothin’, I’m just worried about my house is all,” you told the half truth.

“It’s gon’ be fine. It didn’ seem like the tornado’s gon come through here.” Whether he said that to comfort you or not, you couldn’t tell, but it did help you relax a little.

“Were you a meteorologist before all this or somethin’?” You teased.

“Nah,” came his reply. Suddenly interested in the man, you sat down on the ledge of the tub to question him further.

“What did you do before all this, anyway?”

He removed his thumb from between his lips before he replied with an unsatisfying “Nothin.” You raised your eyebrows at him in disbelief. You didn’t know much, or anything, about him, but people who do nothing don’t usually look like Daryl. “I highly doubt that, but I’m guessin’ this is a touchy subject.” Maybe, if he ends up staying here long enough, he’d open up eventually.

“I was a marriage counselor, which is kinda ironic since I couldn’t save my own marriage,” you said before laughing to yourself. You had a tendency to overshare when you felt an awkward silence needed to be filled and right now it was biting you in the ass. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from sharing more about yourself since Daryl seemed not to be in the mood for conversation.

“I jus’ stuck with my brother. Did what he did. Drugs an’ stuff like that,” he replied vaguely.

“Oh wow, I would’ve guessed you were a model or somethin’.”

“Wha’ makes ya think that?” He asked.

“Pfff, look in a mirror when you get the chance.” You wouldn’t even try to deny that the man was good looking. Whenever you made eye contact with him, you felt timid under his piercing blue gaze. When you turned to face him, his ears were a soft pink and the skin of his thumb between his teeth.

You were woken up by Daryl gently shaking your shoulder. You blinked your eyes open and saw him towering over you, standing outside of the bathtub.

“C’mon, storm’s calmed down,” he informed as he held a hand out to help you up, which you accepted. Heat tingled in your cheeks when your hand touched his warm one. Your uncertainty from earlier rapidly made a reappearance and you hurried out the bathroom with a curious Daryl not far behind. You sighed in relief when you saw that the living room was fine, relatively untouched by the horrid weather. You then hurried back down the hallway and dug around in your pants pockets until you pulled out a key. Daryl watched closely as you hurriedly unlocked the door. In truth, he wanted to get inside and see where you were hiding his stuff. Even though it was raining pretty hard again, he knew he’d find a sense of comfort knowing where they were in case he needed them beforehand.

When Daryl first found out those doors were locked, he figured you were keeping something like an armory or pantry out of his reach, considering that he was just a stranger in your home. When you opened the door, he realized that he couldn’t be more wrong.

Next Chapter (coming soon)

WOO! 3rd chapter, hell yea! >=] thanks for reading <3333

maybe this was kinda obvious, but i have no idea what to do during a tornado! i'm more of an earthquake girlie

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enchantressiren · 1 hour

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❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐭, 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.❞

What is it about you that makes your lover forget everyone else? + channeled song(s)

Subliminal channel | Masterlist

Tips | Paid Readings

Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition. Credit: an anonymous person, thank you.

Normal intuitive readings: @sefinaa

Average word count: 1.4K

Divider | Divider II

Pile 1

Instantly, I hear “your eyes, your eyes,” and then I start to sing the song “just the way you are” by Bruno Mars in my head. The gaze you have with other people draws them towards you very quickly, and you have noticed that because you focus on the way you dress and that you take care of yourself, you have seen a drastic change with other people. Society focuses on beauty, and you have noticed that, but instead of using your beauty, you have used it to get the things you desire, regardless of your weight and your gender. For example, I see you guys, regardless of your gender, wearing some type of makeup, whether that’s mascara, eyeliner, blush, concealer, or foundation. Whatever it is that you do, it is working, and for you, your lover, or your future lover, is going to go nuts on it—in terms of the song that I channel for you guys, they will literally love you for you. Have you seen those troupes where it says, “I love you just the way you are, and when you open yourself and you remove that shell, I will love you even more?” That is the biggest vibe I’m getting from them with you. They cannot get you out of their heads. They literally think about you 24/7, and they like to think about you when they’re stressed about something. They will drift their minds towards you, and they will feel completely relaxed. You have such a radiant energy that people also think of you aside from romance; they feel happy, you have a genuine heart, and you have a lot of empathy. You show it to other people, and you’re very genuine with them, and they can see that, so when they speak to you, they feel completely energized, and they feel so good about themselves. They wonder why this is the case. But you already know how this is the case because you came to the conclusion with one of the last readings or the pick your card piles that you have read about yourself, and all of this makes sense to you now, and now that you see this, this is your sign once more. None of you guys doubt it, but to have another sign about this makes you or will make you realize so many things about yourself that you have been pushing away.

Coming back to the question, it’s your intelligence. My intuition tells me that you come up with so many ideas and can pick up on things so quickly. For example, a lot of you guys in this pile are focusing on the art section, like writing, singing, drawing, etc., and you have never done this ever, but the way that you pick up on things you are doing makes you look like you are an amateur or a professional, and when you tell people that you have only been doing it or practicing it for a little bit, they are fully shocked because they don’t believe you, but it’s the truth.

For sexual, I see that the way that you grip onto the bed sheet and the way that you hide your moans and your groans because of embarrassment is one of the cutest things for them. First of all, when you are with other people, you ooze confidence, and people do not realize that you are beyond insecure. You are a very insecure person. The only people who know it are the people you trust and your lover, or in the future, they will. But it’s okay to be insecure, everyone feels that way at some point in their life, so do not be so harsh with yourself. Especially in the bedroom or having sexual intercourse with them. You’re small moans, and your groans always echo in their minds whenever they’re aroused thinking about you or the horny when they see their kinks or dirty talk around them. It is very easy to make them aroused, so if you spoke dirty to them for like two minutes, they would be it, they would want to fuck you and bend you over, and the rest is a story. So I’m also hearing from my intuition that when you grip the sheets, you are going to show them pure vulnerability and trust, but you’re also showing them that they are making you feel good, and for them, it’s a long-term goal of theirs that they have been trying to achieve for a few months with you. And because it finally happened, they were very happy, or they will be very happy, but you are insecure about it. but my intuition tells me not to feel that way. It's the cutest shit for them—sometimes people say babies are so cute, and they will say, “oh I want to eat them because they’re so cute.” It has the same energy here. I know that you read some piles as mentioned and came to the realization of who you are, and this can help you, but intuitively, I truly hear lots of sadness with this pile and a lot of anxiety. As I was channeling this reading, I was breaking my nails and biting them, which never happens because I don’t do that, so I want you to start to work on taking care of your inner child and shadow work to get rid of the unwanted negativity that you do not deserve.

Coming back to the question again, another thing that your lover will literally think about is your butt. They are huge ass lover, and your size is like the perfect grab. During sex or when sex with you guys happens, they will always be either spanking your ass or grabbing it, and then always eating it out, but I also see them pinching it too. I’m getting a mix of energy from different genders.. so those who have lovers or will have lovers who have dicks will be into your butt to spank you, eat you out, and pinch you, and those who have lovers, or in the future, who have vaginas, will be into pinching your butt, squeezing it, or using sex toys—are you guys bottoms? I’m getting a lot of bottom energy from every single person in this pile, and this comes back to how I spoke about you guys showing confidence, a dominant energy with other people, but deep inside you guys are very insecure, and you will hide it from everyone. You also love having your lover take control, but in a way, you guys feel very insecure about it, like you've always been this person who has always been dominant in your life, and now you come to terms that you like to be a sub or the bottom or even a vers or a switch or whatever. But you guys, it’s literally okay to be like a bottom or a switch or whatever. You don’t always have to be a dom, and you don’t always have to be a confident person, because even confident people will have doubts, negative emotions, and they will also feel insecure. It is human emotions, and you have nothing to worry about. My intuition tells me you have nothing to worry about; therefore, you have nothing to worry about.

Channel song:

Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars

Pile II

Why are you guys such sweet souls? I mean, seriously, I’m getting this very relaxed and calm feeling, but I’m also getting the sense that I want to donate to many charities that are involved with good people. I also hear the song Kill Him with Kindness by Selena Gomez repeatedly in my head. Your future spouse or your current lover knows that when someone is mean to you and they use cruel words about you when they spread rumors about you, instead of getting mad and going after them with revenge or doing the same as them, you instead, give them kindness. And some people may see that as naïve or something weak, but to you and your lover… It is strength and resilience. to have that much courage to show kindness to someone else, despite the hardships that you have gone through, and not have an ounce of hatred for them, but forgiveness is incredibly beautiful, but also so heartwarming and wholesome to your lover that instead of thinking about everyone else, they think about your kindness. And to point out something.. your kindness has changed your lover drastically, and if they are your current lover, you can see it yourself. I see the sexual troupe “brat x softies doms.” That’s your relationship with them. I know that your lover is not dom. Both of you do both positions (top/bottom, dom/sub), etc., but that is what I see for both of you. You guys have respect for each other, and you show it through sexual intercourse or you will show it, but because you have this softness and love for them, this feeling of care and compassion, you will listen to anything they say with sweetness. They don’t have this desire to be a brat with you. They genuinely want to improve themselves, so you would be proud of them. I hear that they seek your validation, but only because they want to improve themselves as people, just like you have. The amount of trauma you guys went through is insane, and they admire you so much.

My mind is wondering about a scene about a school where the teachers would always ask a student, “who do you admire? Who do you look up to?” and I see your future lover or your current lover sitting in a chair. And they look up to the teacher, and they just mention your name, and they go on and on about details about you that they truly love, but they don’t tell you because it’s so sacred and personal to them. And I see the teacher just listening to your current lover, your future spouse, as a ramble on, and instead of anger or annoyance, because they keep talking, there’s a sense of patience and sincerity from them. My intuition tells me the teacher is you and how you treat them, and the student is your lover’s heart. Their heart is speaking and rambling on, and they cannot control what they’re saying, but the teacher or you are there to listen, help, and guide them. That’s why I’m feeling the song “kill em with kindness” because that’s kind of what you do with people, and when you guys fight or when you guys will fight—when you do fight and you do make up, they will be coming running to you and apologizing profusely because they feel extremely guilty because you’re such a sweet person that they just can't stay mad at you.

In terms of sexual life, they really adore when you give them so much trust to take control when they are topping or when they are your dom because their trust is superior. It is so important for them that they would die on the hill just to have your trust. Intuition tells me that they literally worship the ground you walk on, and you are literally like their “god.” I also hear that “your body is a temple that I must worship.” I can see that there’s a lot of love with your pile, and so my intuition tells me that there is going to be a lot of body worship around your sexual life with them and that they don’t even care about their own pleasure. They focus on making you feel really good about yourself, because I hear that you guys are actually insecure, and sometimes you feel like the kindness that you have is stupid or naïve, or you just want to be tough, and if you're assertive, it's a good thing. But keep in mind, you guys, that it is okay to be kind. Kindness is not weakness. It is strength and bravery to literally forgive someone, maybe not for them but for you, and to not fight with dirty playing or revenge, but to show compassion for them—that is something to be incredibly proud of, and I’m so proud of you, as are your lover, your friends, and everyone who literally loves you, so promise me that you guys will treat yourself with kindness.

Coming back to the sexual life in terms of body worship, they’re also going to be focusing on your genitalia part because some of you guys have sexual trauma around it, and some of you also have insecurities focused on it, so they’re going to be more gentle with it than they would be in general because I hear that some of you have rough lovers. So they’ll leave kiss marks on your thighs, and if they were lipstick, it would be on your inner thigh, not like an imprint but like “whenever you feel sad, you’ll see the marks, and you’ll know that I love you when I’m not there” kind of energy. I’m not feeling it’s something rough or something like I’m marking you and I’m claiming you; it’s really, really soft energy despite the trope you guys have. And it’s really wholesome too. Like, out of everyone that your future spouse, your lover would think of, and out of every single thing that they are stressed out with or bothered by, whenever they feel stressed out, they go back to you and your sweet smile and your sincerity, or whenever they want to be back in the present moment, it’s always you on their mind. I don’t know how to explain the love that I feel thinking and channeling this reading for you, but do you know that I feel safe? I feel such security that I can do anything I desire, and I know that I would have someone to back me up. And I also feel like if I had a child with them, I know they wouldn’t leave me and that it would last so long till I’m old and I'd die with them. That is the energy and love I feel from them. It’s so powerful, it’s so enlightening, it’s so peaceful, and I’m just feeling pure happiness. There is not an ounce of hatred or anger in my heart, and when I think of you, and as you read this pile, you’re going to feel the same way, and you’re going to be incredibly confused, just like I am. Because I also hear that you guys are very intuitive, and you know that this was your pile instantly, and as you read what I have said, you kind of know it’s them too. You guys just know who they are, but you don’t know who they are. You get this energy when you see them; you know it’s them, and you kind of see what they look like, but you can’t. It’s very contradictory. It confuses you and stresses you out, and you’re starting to doubt your intuition, but don’t. When you read the piles from other tarot readers, you just know, but you can’t explain or say who it is, and it drives you insane, so let me just tell you something. Let it go. Just go with the flow and let it come to you naturally. It’s okay not to know everything; believe me, I know. Your intuition is a guide, so don’t force it. It is like forcing a journey you are going through; some things are just out of your control, and that’s okay! If you force the energy, you’re going to become stressed out, you're going to lose trust in yourself, and you’re going to lose yourself in the moment that you forget who you are. So just relax; it’s okay, you’re going to find out, and when you do find out, you’re going to be kicking your feet because you knew it was them, but you’re just going to know at the final moment, and that is supposed to happen. It’s your soul journey.

Things like these are very complicated. It is a struggle, even for me. It is a struggle, like I’m getting some of you guys feel like tarot readers or intuitive readers just know everything, but we don't; we literally do not know. We get confused just like you guys because we are all humans, so honestly and intuitively, do not worry.

Channel song:

Kill ‘em with kindness - Selena Gomez

Don’t worry, be happy - Bobby McFerrin

Pile III

Right off the bat, the way you walk turns your future lover or your current lover on. I'm seeing a model walking on a runway as she sways her hip back and forth and she has a calm, resting face, but she is pure confident, has sexy energy, and has a bad bitch vibe. I see the model walking on the runway, she’s getting a lot of attention from people and those in the audience, but at the same time, she’s not overwhelmed with the attention. She just keeps doing her own thing, and then, when she finishes her walk, she comes back, sits on a chair that they use for movie stars, drinks her refreshing lime water, and talks to herself in the mirror as she hypes herself up and tells herself how good she did, how amazing she is, how proud she is, etc. This is a huge vibe I feel with you, like you guys will not let anyone step over you, and you will not let anyone, especially if your lover fights with you, get mad at you. No, this is not how you work because I get this—I’m hearing my intuition say, “I’m a bad bitch. I’m the queen. I’m the king. You cannot walk over me. I know who I am; that’s my truth, so fuck off.” Yeah, so what my intuition is telling me is the same thing that I have been telling you: you have this very, very strong energy, and your current lover or your future spouse feels the same way, and that’s what makes you so irresistible. They can’t stop thinking about you.

People say that you have narcissistic tendencies, but in reality, you care about yourself so much that it does not matter what people say about you. You do whatever you want, and you do not apologize for how you act, and that’s what they’re going to love so much about you, and that's why they keep thinking about you. They will literally want to pass the time as they think about you. Think of meditation, but the meditation is just you and their memories with you. You are their motivation to gain confidence because sometimes they are insecure and you always try to hype them up, or that you will try to hype them up, and it’s a bit of a struggle, but because they keep thinking about you and how you act with others lately, or in the future they will have enough confidence to do what they desire to do, their own things to do.. or even chores? I see someone wearing some kind of black aesthetic, maybe alt, Gothic, emo, or maybe a suit, washing the dishes, so I’m also getting the sense that it’s really based on their clothes and their style that your confidence, your love, and your devotion help them to wear what they love. And your confidence also gives them a sense of purpose.

With sexual, I’m feeling a song about daddies—you give off mommy/daddy vibes. And I’m getting the sense that you like to take control during sex, so with them, they’re going to keep thinking about how you’re such a good top or dom and how you can make them feel so comfortable doing it because with other people, they are never comfortable, but with you, they’re so comfortable that they would literally let you control everything about their lives, and they’ll be persistent with that, but you don’t like that, and they’re okay with it if you do be their dom for everything. Like, the trust they have in you is insane and beautiful (don’t take it for granted). I see a box of cash that has been crumbled up; you can think of the cash as their feelings being played with like a fiddle stick, and they push the box to you to give it to you to control, and you keep pushing it back to them like, “no I’m not going to play with your emotions. I want to love and take care of you because I love you.” So I’m getting a sense of deep devotion from your side, and because they’re more shy about who they are, you're able to help them embrace their authenticity and other favorite things to do during sex. I keep hearing this reading more on them for whatever reason, and there’s not much energy on you because I think in a way you also wanted to see more about them than you wanted to see with yourself because you really know yourself and my opinions wouldn’t change how you see yourself. And when you get compliments, you don’t really take them; you just accept them and let them go because you only care about your own opinion, and having an ego isn’t that fun for you anyway. My intuition tells me that you guys pick a card about yourself and the first impressions of other people, but then when you get the reading, you're just like, “I don’t really want to do this because I don’t need it.”

So coming back to the vibes of you guys, give mommy and daddy vibes. I’m also in the sense that you guys like to listen to music when you guys masturbate, have sex, or, in the future, you guys will, because it kind of gets you into this mood and this passion with them. When you guys finish, they will think of the song and remember you guys making love in a way this is like for you because they keep thinking about you and keep showing their love and admiration towards you. So I’m also getting this feeling that you're a sneaky bastard. You guys do small trinkets of things to get them to think of you. For example, you guys will watch a movie with them that’s more focused on the sexual life and about the lover focusing on their partner, and it kind of goes into their subconscious mind, and then they’re like, "oh, let me worship you and love you,” or you just send them a social media video about you or what you want or what you want them to buy, and they just buy it for you because they love you so much, but at the same time, it’s like, “I’m getting kind of influenced by the videos or the things you show me, but I don’t regret anything, and I’m not a mindless zombie, I just, I just want to do it for you.” Intuition tells me they have a love language for receiving and giving gifts, and them buying new gifts is showing their devotion. You send them videos and stuff. It's not like a gift, but they also feel loved by it, like you think about them and want to show them something, and you’re giving them more attention or more company with them, like you’re spoiling them with your attention.

Right now, I'm hearing, “you’re such a fucking whore; I love it.” I think you guys have a thing for saying derogatory words to your lover during sex like sometimes you’ll call them a slut or a whore or like a bitch like you’re my bottom bitch, etc. and for some reason you kind of feel bad afterwards but like they love it, they literally love it; it just a heat fire into their chest or their soul and they’re just like “you know what screw you, I can do this, I can do that”, so like whenever they’re hurting and they are struggling with their own emotions, they will literally think about that moment, and they will just do whatever they’re scared of like they will just completely attack the fear—you feel bad for them but this is literally like their key of getting their ass up and doing what they need to do. I’m hearing “you are my savior,” so for them, they think you are the hero, like you don’t even have to have a complex I’m just getting this whole energy of “you are my hero, you saved my life, you mean the world to me, and I cannot thank you enough.” I’m also getting another song called Maniac, and I keep hearing, “she’s a maniac, a maniac. I sure know.” During sex, you guys literally, like I said, are completely in that moment. You have that much passion that when you keep taking control, it gives you a high, like you are in that moment, and you become like a maniac that you keep going and going and you just cannot stop. The only way for you to stop is if they say a safe word, and I know what you’re thinking, but you are not hurting them. You are okay, so do not worry. But I’m getting this fast, this fast thinking; everything is fast in my mind, and I feel very hyper, and that’s how I feel overall with your energy during sex because it’s like fast pace, quickies, etc., even public sex I hear.

Overall, the energy, the feeling of passion, the confidence, and these daddy/mommy vibes are what make your lover completely forget everyone else but you. You just have this dominant energy, you don’t have a tough persona, because it’s literally you, and you do not apologize to anyone for being yourself. When people attack you with snarky comments, you don’t give a shit; you just keep going, and that’s what your future lover or your current lover, as of the moment, loves about you, and that’s what they fully think about most of the time. They are supposed to think about their work, their homework, a meeting, their hobbies, etc., but no, it’s always you, you, you, you, on their mind, always and forever

Channel songs:

Such a whore - Jvla

Maniac - Michael Sembello

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